Amalia Grape Walks the Earth (formerly Another Departure from Eating Disorders)

So Many Possible Titles...

2008-11-10T19:27:00.000-08:00

I could call this entry many many things:

I Now Belong to Two Gyms

Why Jobs Suck

Why Teaching Sucks

Why Having a Large Belly Sucks

Why I Hate Food

Why I Only Appear to Associate with Food

Why is it that I continue to shovel food in my mouth when I'm already in physical pain and have a hard time breathing?

Why? Why? Why?

Where did Monday go?

How the hell am I going to have parent conferences tomorrow when I barely know these kids?

What the fuck 'suit' am I going to put on this swollen gut that won't send me into panic attacks?

How the fuck am I going to get rid of this weight?

But instead, I will say, tomorrow is another day.

Right?

I need a change. My behaviors right now are repetitive and destructive. I seem to only have one good day a week.

I don't quite know what the next best move is. I just don't know.

I want to find a DBT Skills group here in DC. I will have good health insurance that starts Dec 1. So maybe then...

Here's to you guys!

love ya,
A

Itchy

2008-11-05T10:53:00.000-08:00

I finally had a good day yesterday-- a day with clean eating.

Schools were closed so I bagged up 5 contractor trash bags full of baby girl clothes and set out for good will. Dumping those bags was so incredibly liberating! Next I went to vote. Then I got to exercise. If it hadn't been raining, it would have been a perfect day.

I had tickets to see Bad Brains last night. I was going with an old friend who I hadn't seen in a long time. I knew the show was going to suck but I have had feelings for this guy for almost 15 years. Now, the man is married and has children and I would NEVER act on these feelings, but it was pretty fun to see a show and sit in a bar and drink while watching election returns.

I live in DC and the whole city EXPLODED with the news of Obama's victory. I am still teary-eyed and I cry at NOTHING.

I feel hope. I feel hope for so many things and somewhere, in the bottom of that pile, I feel hope for me.

I have a job. I almost have benefits. I sort of have a new band. I have some very high paying tutoring clients. I am running my life just a little more, how I want to run my life. I have had two hellish weeks of binging but I think I am ready to stop now. I'll see my ED doctor tomorrow afternoon to discuss the medications that I do NOT want to take. I'm hardly on anything at the moment. We stopped almost everything else I was taking-- three meds prescribed very specifically to reduce urges to binge. But I thought they were no longer effective. So we decided to start fresh. The med weaning period didn't go very well. I don't like the new/old med he chose for me. He wants me to take a tricyclic and I think he couldn't be more wrong. Tricyclics tend to be weight gainers but he wants me to take it at night ( I have night eating syndrome) and it is also good for people with OCD. But why take a drug that is VERY likely to cause weight gain when that is the greatest source of my anxiety??

I'll report back tomorrow.

Good Brain, Bad Brain

2008-10-29T11:05:00.000-07:00

Brains are neither all good, nor all bad. However, it is the tendency of one with an eating disorder to engage in "black and white" thinking. Sometimes, I engage in black and white thinking.

I haven't posted anything in a very long time.

I got a job-- a real job. I signed a teaching contract with a middle school. My hours are 7:35 am to noon, M to F. My sleep schedule is pretty messed up and my eating has been disastrous.

My ED doctor decided to yank all my meds over the course of a few weeks and then start something new.

I think he picked the wrong new drug. I haven't started it yet- an old tricyclic- but I think he is way off on the this one.

I'm glad to have a job but I'm stressed beyond belief.

And the real reason I'm writing- I just binged like fucking crazy and I'm off to band practice. There is a new band because we aren't working with our crazy singer anymore. But that doesn't change the dynamic of the bandmates with whom I will continue to work.

Today is not lost. I am not lost. I am just very tired, very stressed, and very very full.

I miss you guys and I hope everyone is ok.

I might try to start posting again.

love,
Amalia

Just Back from Baltimore and It's Off to the Tracks!

2008-09-18T18:32:00.000-07:00

I went to see my ED shrink at Hopkins Hospital today. I wasn't supposed to see him until October but I emailed earlier in the week. I needed help. I needed to throw a wrench in the habits and the obsessions before I lost control completely. Exercise seems to have become the most important force in my life again since I can't seem to quit food (Duh, you aren't supposed to quit food).

But when you are working out two hours a day, you don't have too much time to do other things. Or you are so out of it because you are severely anemic you can't think straight to even know what you should be working on.

I also called the surgeon who did my gastric bypass for help. He said I should of called him 6 years ago. He thinks that we just need to attack on issue at a time. He gave me a list of 4 years to do- new bloodwork, keep a food diary (for the night eating and the debilitating gas), get IV iron treatments, and I forget the last one.

Well, I have a PPO insurance plan now. So I'll be paying a deductible and then 20% of all of this. The spiral downward continues. Because addressing these health issues increases my pit of debt and the eating disorder has already put me so far into debt. But do I rationalize this expenditure by saying that this is for real health? I dunno.

My doctor in Baltimore told me to a) chill on exercise and b) increase the remeron (my night anxiety/anti depression pill.

Well, I had tried to quit remeron. Everyone knows remeron is a weight gainer and I have gained 12 pounds in the two years I have been taking. Granted, I have been night eating and bingeing. But Remeron doesn't seem to help my sleep anyway. But that is why he said to increase it. I'll know mighty quick if it makes me gain weight. BUT I DONT WANT TO TAKE ANY MEDICATION IF THERE IS EVEN ONCE OUNCE OF CHANCE THAT IT WILL INCREASE APPETITE AND PUT ON MORE FAT.

Spinning! My head is spinning!

I just want to go to the gym. Today I seem to look a little less puffy, but I was up 3 times last night eating massive quantities of food. And I haven't burned it all of yet. I actually did my resume today instead of working out. But the day isn't over and I have access to a 24 hour gym now and it is chilly in DC but I can still use that roof deck pool.

I should do this, I could do this-- shoulda coulda woulda.....

Dr. R. (he is such a great guy) told me that no one is putting a gun to my head about anything....so I don't need to put a gun to my head either.

My brother with the baby is about to cause his wife to divorce him. More about that later.

I still read blogs here and there. I miss you guys. Erin, I'm proud of you. Love you tons! Summer Jen, I'm thinking of you too! And Z! And Frida! And my other friends who I will keep anonymous.

Love, A

"I'm used to men adoring me!" (I didn't say that)

2008-09-14T09:50:00.000-07:00

This past Friday night, I was visiting with friends. We were at the apartment of someone I do music work with. He lives with his girlfriend-- a sweet, adorable, Spanish national who grew up extremely wealthy and quite privileged. They love to talk about their relationship.

Tonight the girl was speaking about how things started.

"He dumped me! He was so busy with the music business that I asked him, 'do you just want to be friends?' and he said, 'yes'. I about died! My ego was destroyed! I was so used to men absolutely adoring me."

I guess that is how the world works. There are quite a few ladies all over the world who are used to men 'adoring' them. The people that are naturally physically "beautiful" do have a VERY different life than the ones who are "average to unattractive" looking. They just do. The world treats them very differently. I am not saying it is good. I am not saying it is bad. It just is.

I allowed myself to be triggered by that. The last two nights have been pretty intense. I have been self-injurious with food consumption. And today, I'm looking puffier than normal. So now I have something new to dwell on.

There are new records being made. There is a new job coming my way. There is progress. There is also stagnation. I joined a very popular commercial diet club against the advice of my ED shrink. The first week, even with over eating, I lost a few. But I was also working out twice a day. The second week I did not go weigh in. I weighed myself at my parent's house during the middle of the week and I was back at almost the starting weight (there wasn't a huge difference) but I haven't recovered. I WAS retaining water AND had not had a bowel movement in five days, so it might have not even been real weight.

The point is I haven't recovered from that. I haven't gone back to weigh in. And now I probably do have a real gain. It isn't like I haven't been through this before.

I like a real boy. I think he might be interested in me as well. But he doesn't know the me who has the nude body of a 75 year old woman who had 4 children. He doesn't know the body that emits foul odors (thank you bypass) almost all day.

I believe in positive attitudes. I believe in joy. I believe in being met with the energy that you project. But my bass player and x boyfriend put it like this-- "You have a hard time looking at the world with rose colored glasses because you have been disappointed over and over and over again. I want to smile! I want to laugh! I want to feel what I see other people experiencing! Sometimes I can force myself....

I know these feelings are a combination of multiple things- hormone levels, neurotransmitters, adrenal activity, and your entire life experience.

When I started this blog, I wanted to document positives and recovery ( i hate the word recovery, it is a loaded word). I wanted to document growth.

Well there has been growth and there has been stagnation. That is what life is. I know that. I don't want to be a whiner. I just wish, like all of you, that I could wake up and have a very different brain, just for a day. But of course, I would need a very different body.

But the world says before I can quit this ED, I have to love myself UNCONDITIONALLY RIGHT NOW! ACCEPT AND EMBRACE AND CELEBRATE ME!

And the thoughts continue to swirl.

Selfish me- sad me- lonely me- me who wants to be loved- that me wishes that just once, I could know the feeling of real love and adoration.

reconnection

2008-09-01T11:36:00.000-07:00

I really feel the need to re-connect with the culdy girls. I try to fight the urge to sit on the computer and get lost in other people's blogs because I am working on so many things in real life. That's not saying much.

Hope you guys are great.

I Took A Summer Vacation

2008-08-25T22:53:00.000-07:00

I actually just got very lazy about writing. Many things have changed since my last post, and many things are very much the same.

I think a list would be the quickest and easiest way to highlight the changes:

1) My ED doctor finally gave me meds for ADD.
2) I realized that with a little effort, I can make a manageable salary tutoring.
3) I have a weight-lifting regimen constructed for me by a trainer.
4) I was given a key to the building where E's sister lives- she has the pool on the roof deck and the 24 hour gym in the basement.
5) I lost 4 pounds and then gained it back.
6) I am continuing to make efforts to hang out with men.
7) I am recognizing more and more, that it is nearly impossible to get decent medical care unless you are working for a posh organization or a government.
8) My insurance is refusing to pay for the ER visit for my broken ankle last spring. I should only be responsible for the 75 dollar co-pay. Here come the appeals packages!
9) I joined weight watchers today.

I think that many humans are under the impression that life is supposed to be wonderful, magical, enchanted, happy, full of love, full of material comforts, a constant adventure, and simply intoxicating.

It isn't. I am a huge fan of literature that tells stories of woman from other countries who have suffered the most insane monstrosities and take it with a grain of salt. Life is far worse in other parts of the world, my friends. I recently read a book called, "Aman, The Story of a Somali Girl." Aman tells her own true story in first person. She describes a childhood where she was born in the arid bush while her mom is leading the herds to find water. At age 9, she undergoes a clitorectomy. At 11, her white boyfriend is murdered because of the inter-racial dating. By age 13, she had been given away in an arranged marriage and had to run away to escape the insane husband. She is then forced to prostitute as she had no other way to support herself.

Do we really have it that bad?

Another favorite book is called, "The Good Women of China" by Xinran.

http://www.randomhouse.co.uk/xinran/home.htm

That is the most disturbing story I have ever read.

Somehow in the last 30 years, Americans have become a society of clinical depressives, anxiety-ridden, bi-polar'ed, ADD'd monkeys that must take pills everyday, just to survive. When did this happen? When did the pharmaceutical companies become the most powerful entity in our lives?

I'm not saying we shouldn't feel sadness. I'm not saying that many of us have not had horrendous horrible things done to us. I'm just saying that we need to keep it in perspective and look outside of our own misery to the real suffering of those in other lands. Have you ever read any books about women growing up in Iraq? Saudi Arabia?

I can't be a hypocrite here because half of my brain time is spent engaging phrases telling me I'm not good enough, not smart enough, not successful enough. But I also know that there are so many people that have it so much worse.

Read Xinran.

You won't be the same person.

My doctor would say that I have done a damn good job, yet once again, of avoiding any articulations about my needs and my feelings.

Must sleep.

Quick and Dirty

2008-07-23T11:37:00.000-07:00

I think life has been moderate. Good things happen. Bad things happen. I manage.
I had a great weekend at the shore with my friends. I ate too much. Shocker. The last two days at camp, I have done some shitty eating. Shocker. I am surviving. There is a boy. He could be a good one but I have yet to REALLY hang out with him. Could be a bust, too.

I have/had an idea for a business that encompasses all of my abilities/talents or lack thereof. I started looking into trademarks, started designing the products, and then I started doing some reading about what goes into starting this type of company. Instantly I felt so far out of my league and had my hands on the meals that were supposed to be for the rest of the day. Oops. Panic has passed.

I am recording this afternoon and just sent E an email telling him to be happy and positive because there is no reason not to be.

That's called being proactive.

I'm feeling rather flat but hope everyone is great. You already are.

Thanks

2008-07-09T17:54:00.000-07:00

Thanks SB and DG and Erin for writing.

There were a few weeks there where things were going quite well and now I'm in a gentle downward spiral. Music was going well. I had met a few men that seemed like people I could really hang out with. Eating was decent.

There was one boy in particular that I met that seemed like a person I could really BE with. I just had that feeling. I think he did, too. We were supposed to go swimming Monday night and he canceled. He said he had too much work to do. Maybe he did. I tend to think someone in this town told him about the eating disorder or he just read some of my band blogs. Or maybe he really is busy with work.

We had two very cool shows in NYC over the 4th of July weekend. MTV and New York Times were filming. In fact, my band was in the New York Times video blog today. We were the only band they actually played music clips from AND they listed our name on the screen while we played. In truth though, I sucked so hard at that show. The MTV camera man knocked my power cord loose and the organ proceeded to shut itself off and turn itself back on at least 7 times, leaving a total absence of sound. I wanted to die. We were playing in front of at least 1000 people who had never heard us before. The promoter had hyped us to no end. Then I go and SUCK! I ate all weekend. I gained weight. I couldn't deal. Then the boy. And now my campers this session are super annoying.

I know that the cycle will swing in a different direction soon but only if I declare that the cycle swing. I do have the power. All of this is my choice. I will not falter in my pit of pity.

I am condo sitting for a friend who lives in a brand new condo building not far from my place in DC. She has a rooftop pool, a full gym, a fancy business center, coffee every morning, central air, a garage. This has been such a delight! Oh I wish I had a job.

I get weird in the summer

2008-06-24T17:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think it is never going to get better. Tonight is one of those nights. I'm going to the gym. I know a whole bunch of you need support right now. I'm stuck in my own little well of hell. I'm sorry.

Doors Uhinged

2008-06-19T13:40:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm coming unhinged and I'm not sure why.

Something just feels wrong or off. I can't get food out of my brain. It is now my job to re-route. Go draw a picture. Read a distracting book. Go to the gym.

I know what the issues are: I am overtired. I haven't eaten enough protein today. I started the day with a messy breakfast at 6am. 2 cups of kefir, blueberries, two pieces of sourdough bread, with unsweetened apple butter. My stomach swelled up like a basketball as the intestines filled with noxious fumes. I think yogurt heals me but kefir destroys me. Lunch was ok. Snack is freaking me out. I ate some slices of apple at 3:15 and I wasn't totally hungry. Binge trigger. I am meeting band friends for an early dinner. Came home and had a protein drink with frozen strawberries. I also ate a plum. Thank god it wasn't bread.

There are other things out there beside food. I have interests and skills and talents. I feel so hideously unfocused right now. Not sure where to start. How about a nap.
Oh I want to sleep. But food thoughts are swarming me. Why oh Why oh Why! If I eat recklessly it is because I have chosen to.

I want I want I want I want I need I need I need I need

How bout I am pretty damn lucky to live in a house and have a car and have food and have access to employment and have limbs that work and even a few friends.

I'm chilling out a little. I just need to sleep.

What is up?

2008-06-17T14:29:00.000-07:00

For all of my high talk yesterday, last night didn't go very well. The first day of camp was fine but it was raining when I was driving home. I was too hungry. I had eaten very lightly all day. I bought a bag of SmartFood Popcorn. I just can't handle deviations. It wasn't that it was the end of the world, that bag of popcorn, I had just been so pleased with my food up till that point.

Mind you, I'm obsessed with these 3 fucking pounds. I haven't weighed in a few days. For the best???

So, I got upset when I ate the popcorn. I was bummed that it was raining. I came home and rolled around my room for a while not knowing what to do with myself. Take a nap? Go to the gym? Meditate?

Once the gym popped into my head, I knew that anything less would be another upset. Off to the gym. I did nothing excessive. 15 minutes on the elliptical and weight-lifting till I hit a safe max. At 7:45, I was starving again, and came home to no food prepared.

I started eating raw veggies while trying to figure out what the fuck to eat for dinner. Salad? I had some old lettuce I was trying to get rid of. Chicken patty? With bread or without? Somehow I got it in my head that I would be happy if I made a fresh blueberry vinegarette. Not a smart choice. My stomach started freaking out the second I started eating that salad. Raw sprouts-- I love them, but the guts don't. I made that chicken patty into a sandwich. I was full when I ate one half but I didn't stop there. I finished it, and was stuffed, painfully stuffed. The veggies were gassing up and there wasn't room for that whole sandwich.

I was mad at E. He wanted me to go out late at night to work on our other music project. We yelled at eachother when I expressed that I need to go to bed early for the next 8 weeks. He wanted me to drive him to this guy's house. I silenced myself.

When I got home from the guy's house at 10:30, all I could think of was my frozen yogurt carton, 3/4 full. I ate it while talking to my roommate. I added some pretzels to it, then shoved one cracker, and one ginger snap into my mouth. I was done. That for me is basically a binge and pain for a long time, because the dinner was far from digested.

When I woke up with morning, I was certain that my cheeks were just a tad puffier.

The second day of camp went well, aside from the mounting anxiety. The food cravings are hitting me hard right now, along with the fear of staying heavy forever.

This fear thing....it is high time I let it go. It doesn't really help change anything.

It isn't helpful, thought provoking, or inspiring. It is choking, suffocating, and breeds despair. Once on the path of fear, the road ahead is dark.

I want to jump off that path for the rest of today. It is beautiful outside. I am going for a walk with E now. But there is mounting feelings that I have done something terrible to someone and that everyone is mad at me.

Maybe they are. I can't give a damn.

Hope everyone is ok.

Monday Monday

2008-06-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

Camp has begun!

My little afternoon class has just left with our counselor for recess so I have a 20 minute break. Rather than look up calories (or exercise, this place has a gym), I thought I would write a quick post. I am enjoying writing again, even if I don't get to read everyone else's blog on a daily basis, I still find writing incredibly therapeutic and thought-provoking.

I turned it around yesterday. I had a great day.

I went over to my friend's apartment and we went to the 8th floor, to her roof deck pool. I did mini laps for 45 minutes while talking to a very hot guy. My friend opened her mouth and said, "You are talking to a rock star..." which opened up further discussion. I have NO interest in this person, it was just fun to flirt, especially in an environment where I feel the most comfortable and the least comfortable. Bathing suits are a garment that I have NEVER felt comfortable in, not underweight, not overweight, and not now. But there were lots of bodies on that roof and I just didn't care. This is my body and I'm living in it. Bam. The weather was perfect and nothing makes me happier than water. I'm hoping that my friend will invite me over on a regular basis. It is actually E's older sister and she is very very friendly. She always seems to call when I am at my lowest. The two are polar opposites.

I went over to my parents' house for dinner after the pool. Father's Day.

I have really changed my tune with my mother. I am making real strides at simply being pleasant. We had a long time some time ago and I mostly tried to understand what has caused her to act as she has as a mother. I do understand in many ways. It takes an incredibly astute person, a very insightful person, and probably an eating disorder, to realize the errs of our parents and to TRULY BREAK THE CYCLE.

I still don't think I will birth babies-- just to be on the safe side.

The ad that I posted got me about 8 e-mails. Even if the subject line seemed self-deprecating, it certainly weeds out a whole lot of people that I wouldn't even consider wanting to spend time with. I did get some very nice responses, and maybe, just maybe, I will meet a few of these peoples. To quote my shrink, "A, you are not that fucked up."

I had a weird breakfast...leftover vegetables and yogurt, which of course, gave me ridiculous amounts of gas this morning. I spent lots of time running back and forth to the bathroom to spare my campers of the smells on the first day. But it worked out. I have a bathroom just outside my room.

The morning class is mature and thoughtful. I am excited to be working with them. The afternoon class is very young and it is always a challenge to find activities that the are developmentally ready for. I also have less patience for them but I do a great job of teaching to all children so they get the same quality of care, humor, and instruction that everyone else gets.

My counselor is a cool kid, too.

I have just learned that our county has had a water main break and the entire county will have to drink bottled water for the next three days. I'm telling you, things are getting weird out there.

Anyway, I'm blabbering.

Love to all of you, A

Craigslist has all the Answers

2008-06-15T11:19:00.000-07:00

Detroit was honestly a blast. The drive ended up being 9 1/2 hours and we got to the venue at 9:00pm, Friday night. I did most of the driving and the heat was pretty brutal but after eating half a sandwich and drinking a ton of water, I felt pretty good. I had enough time to practicing setting up all the new equipment and boom, at 10:45, we were loading onto stage. The only thing that I didn't do all day was-- mentally rehearse the new songs.

We decided to only play one out of the three new ones. They let me pick the one I felt most comfortable with. I botched it completely. I came in one beat too late, didn't change at the end of the first verse, forgot to switch sound banks at the chorus, and even missed notes during the chorus. I didn't feel too bad as otherwise, the show was amazing. For our stage, we absolutely had the best crowd and afterward, we were inundated with people claiming how blown away they were by the show. It was the first show I had played since the ankle has basically healed and I amped it up to a ridiculous degree but it felt SO GOOD to play. Afterward I was still in a good mood. I was definitely thinking I had to get something sweet to eat-- not because I was craving it, simply because it is my best defense in night eating at the homes of strangers. I got two large cookies from the pizza place downstairs.

We had met a guy whose band is on our old record label and he had invited us to stay at his house. It was a lovely home and I had my own room. The temps had cooled off and I thought I would be ok with food. I ate half of each one of those cookies and I still night ate. I got up twice and ate some banana bread that the wife had made that was sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Their bedroom door was open and I was sure she heard me. The next day I noticed that the bread had been entirely removed from the counter. I sent a text message to the husband and apologized. He said no problem and wasn't upset at all.

Now the shitty part is that I have been eating TONS of food that belongs to my roommates. I have to stop once and for all. It is mentally destroying me. I worry about it constantly. I always want what other people have and I have to stop.

Also, I got on the scale. Old habits die hard. A few weeks back, without trying, I had suddenly lost 3 pounds. It stayed off for almost two weeks. I had a bad week last week and the little bitches are back. Oh do I feel bad. The difference between 147 and 144, in my mind was profound. 144 made me feel so close to the 130's, and the 130's made me feel close to the 120's, where I truly believe I could rest easily. I don't long for the bones and the cold of days gone by. I long for smaller.

I am going to visit my friend who has a pool on the roof deck of her apartment. I am going even with a stomach full of gas. This could be a mistake. Then I am supposed to meet my parents for dinner. Camp starts tomorrow.

I have a list of things to do that is 100 miles long, and I always have so much anxiety before camp starts.

This morning, I put yet another ad on Craigslist. The subject line read, "Poor Flabby Musician with Smelly Farts seeks companion"

I have gotten some replies. Maybe this will be the time I actually meet some people.

Happy Father's Day. Ha Ha.

There's a Hole in the Bucket, dear Liza

2008-06-12T21:38:00.000-07:00

Warning: This is not a tremendously positive post. It is not pure evil but not very hopeful.

We are leaving for the festival in Detroit early tomorrow morning. Thanks to everyone who wrote. I forget to write back to comments but I read them and I take them very seriously. It just means a lot that we are connected.

E might be a nasty nasty person, but he is effective in scaring me into practicing. I have learned how to use the stupid sequencer and now I have three instruments that I use live. We'll see how it comes across live though. Might not be too snappy.

I was walking around with him tonight. We had to go to 2 different CVS's so I could find velcro to secure my mixer (a whole separate unit) onto my red organ. We passed the street where I last lived with my ex boyfriend. This was the last place I lived where I still had the anorexia in tact. This was the place where I forced the boyfriend to lock me in our room every night, so I couldn't eat.

When we broke up, I felt like it was the end for me, not because I was going to miss him, because no one would be able to stop me from night eating, certainly not me.

I thought about where I am in my life now, and I'll be perfectly honest here-- I'd go back in one second. I still don't really care for most of humanity. I still can't really support myself (or choose not to). I still have a bizarre-looking body and produce horrible smells (gastric-bypass gas ain't pretty) on a very regular basis. I still walk around looking at new apartments and people coming out of restaurants and people who don't have 10 pounds of loose skin hanging from their body and I'm envious. Its not exactly envy, it is more like I'm simply full of longing. Acceptance, recovery, weeeee.

I just want to have to be free.

Smells, debt, lots of loose skin, some moderate amounts of fat, and a debilitating habit of eating when I should be sleeping-- those are my shackles. My ADD is a shackle.

I don't really buy lottery tickets. I just choose to put the tiny amounts of money I have into stock which I have no business playing with.

This is all about fear.

I have lots of reason to fear.

I missed that teeny tiny body so much it hurts. I know you guys write about it, too and I feel like an ass for saying it, but sometimes I need to let it out. I still feel like I lost the only good thing I ever had. You know, if I had just cut calories a little, and did a lot of weight lifting, things may have been very different. But I am a person of extremes. All or nothing.

Very often, nothing. Or weak attempts at something and then I wait for E to bail me out.

More on this later.

I have to drive all day tomorrow in a hot dirty van with no AC and my wonderful band so we can lose money on gas.

Bikes! Let the world be overtaken by bikes! and reindeer

To Erin

2008-06-11T08:31:00.000-07:00

Erin, I'm pulling for you, my friend. Love, A

Hope, Heart, Healing, Feeling

2008-06-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in my bedroom with the the AC window unit pumping and a fan blowing. The last few days I have not listened to music other than that open my band. I am still desperately trying to learn new songs and learn to use the sampler. Through this process, E has been more verbally cruel than I ever quite remember. Yesterday I couldn't take it. I sat there silently sobbing while trying to practice, re-write, play with them, record. He just doesn't understand that a fearful brain simply isn't available for learning. While I was trying to play, I was mentally planning to resign. That was making me cry even harder. The one thing that I have that connects me to the world at large, well, I was about to sever it. I have never quit. He has never fired me. But yesterday I was about there.

When we were driving back to the city, I still continued to cry. There was an intense thunder/lightning storm the whole way back and I felt like quite the little drama queen.

You know what was running through my mind more than anything though? I gained back those little 3 pounds that I lost. That was the kicker. Hopeless, I said to myself, over and over and over. No band, no respect, no admiration, and fat. I forgot to add old. I suddenly seem to be aging.

Now, I have come to recognize this thought pattern as the black and white thinking of a person with an eating disorder.

By the end of the ride, E had vented his frustration, which he has done over and over and over. He feels like he can't work of ANY of his own parts, his own sounds, because he spends SO MUCH TIME babysitting me. And he does. I so rarely take the time to work on my stuff at home. My brain is still quite engaged in thoughts about food, my body, exercise, diet changes, weight, and about a million other ED things. Of course, add the attentional issues, and the not-so-great short term memory, and I'm a whole basket of fun to be in a band with.

I just don't know anymore. Am I trying to fit a square peg in a round whole? Or would I really get better, write better, play better, remember more, if I practiced, and listened to music, on my own time. I probably would get better to a point. But at this point, E will NEVER respect me. He has known me since I was 15 and has actively warned me about every amount of craziness that I have ever engaged, long before I did it. Don't diet, don't take pills, don't have life-altering surgery, don't continue to violate nature, don't weigh and measure your food, don't try to kill yourself by starving. I didn't listen. The quest for societal approval was too strong and I clearly never got it.

If you make food you like, and eat some of it, on a regular basis, you don't gain weight. If you eat slowly, listen to your body, and stop when you are full, your body will naturally find its set point.
The more we starve, the more we binge, we put on the highest pedestal, and make it the greatest weapon, pointed straight at our hearts and brains.

The scale is a murderer. Denying, restricting, those are destroyers. Food is good. Food is ok. Every kid I know who grew up in a house with plenty of food and liberal access to it, does not binge. Food is no big deal.

We have to practice making food a 'no big deal' every day.

I didn't binge last night (not till night eating anyway, well not a real binge).

I went home, marinated some chicken, combined it with brown rice I had made earlier in the day, and ate it with some of the Asian food E's mom had made for me. I ate a little past fullness but then went upstairs. I talked on the phone with a new friend in CA who has an ED. We talked for 2 hours. I walked in my neighborhood for part of that time.

That was a real connection to a real human and we supported each other for 2 hours. This is the hardest time of day for me. I have now spoken to Erin more than once, and those conversations are pretty fantastic. We need to talk to humans, too.

I ate another smaller meal at 1 am. I was hungry and that was my 'snack'. Things were almost cool. I went to bed at 2 and popped up at 3 and eventually got the lock off my door. I ate a pb and j sandwich. The PB was not mine. I also ate a bowl of my roommate's ice cream.

Today, the real issue, is that I am going back to band practice, and I still might not have mastered those new songs. Will he offer verbal abuse? Probably. Am I going to quit? Doubt it. A healthy person would quit or try to get better.

I am going to beg my beloved ED shrink for ADD meds. BEG.

I am getting healthier. I am getting better. It is going to take a long time. I have no expectation of greatness by tomorrow morning.

I think it is a HUGE success that I didn't binge last night. I didn't lay around watching ED movies on YouTube. I talked on the phone, didn't isolate (didn't practice which I should have) but I made a new friend, a new friend who is just starting to battle the ED, and she needed support. Talking to her was just as helpful for me.

So today I can't say what will happen. I can say I will do my best. I will try not to cry even if E is horrible because I have to make his words lose their power as long as I stay in this band.

I know I have been commenting much on other people's blogs. I feel heavy guilt about this. I have been crazy ass busy and beg forgiveness from everyone.

I am sending out a basket of love to everyone. I have never asked this before but if you are a person who prays, would you pray for me? I don't know what I believe in but I do believe in the power of positivity, connectedness, and love in the universe.

Feelings

2008-06-08T10:25:00.001-07:00

I am sitting in my bedroom right now crying. The most immediate reason for the tears is because I am about to go to band practice and I have to start using a sampler while I am also doing organ parts. We have a festival to play in Detroit this coming Friday and we want to play 3 new songs. I have to use the sampler on all 3 of the songs. I also have keyboard parts. Each new song has one row of triggers designated for it but then there is a top row of triggers that has additional sounds, and a full set to go with each lower trigger. The lower triggers are on loop and they can go out of tempo instantly. This is the most complex tool I have ever had to use and I can't remember what sounds go where in the song and which button and which set will trigger the sounds that I am supposed to use. And I am still supposed to play some organ in the middle of this. I want to vomit. I just called E to ask what time he wanted to leave for practice and when he asked how it was going, I said not too great and explained my current status with this sampler. He just said "well you are going to have to simplify and breath....you get really tense".

I get really tense because he screams at me and calls me names. I get tense because I want to write out each song and where I am supposed to make each sound.

I cried when I had to add a second keyboard two years ago.

I am supposed to go out with a newer boy for dinner very late tonight. I already know that E will want to go to his parent's house after practice and have dinner there. I will be a tense mess. It will be an issue that I want to come back to the city. Actually I could just drop him at his parents because his sister might be there and can bring him back to the city after they have dinner. Right now, I need to get my shit together and stay calm and breathe and tell myself I WILL LEARN THIS TOOL. I WILL NOT BE FLUSTERED BY E WHO IS SIMPLY MAKING NOISE.

I have 25 minutes before we will leave. Should I be making lunch to take to practice? Should I be practicing? I probably shouldn't be writing a blog post but it seemed like a better idea to at least write a little bit and get some of this out of my head before the slaughter begins.

Trying to do 3 songs at once is not a good idea either.

I am calmer now. Brains that are fearful are not operating at their best. I wish that E would learn that. I am working on teaching him that. I have been working on it for 5 years. There has been some slight progress. I guess that everything good takes time.

My progress for the weekend-- I finally have decent fabric on my windows. I can't tell you what a difference it has made.

Last night was a mess, but I'll post about that later.

Peace.

Bodywork Sparks the Rebel!

2008-06-05T10:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had my first 'body work' session with a very good friend. My friend, K, teaches Qui Gong, and meditates with my meditation group or 'sangha'. Another friend of mine, J, who is a crack addict in recovery, recommended I begin work with K, as he felt he had made tremendous progress with K's help. It seemed like a smart thing to do since I have quit going to my ED counselor.

Now I think a lot of you know that I use a bizarre locking system with a time-locked safe to prevent myself from night eating. Every now and again, the system fails, or I fail the system. For some reason, Monday morning, the safe wouldn't open. I couldn't get my key out, and I was locked in my room. In the past, I have used all sorts of weird tools to physically remove the lock from the door in the middle of the night so I could race to the kitchen and eat. The mornings after I do this are incredibly painful, both emotionally, and physically. I have intense stomach/gas pains that can last all day (side effect of the gastric bypass) and the terror from the extra calories can trigger some restriction. But lately, the system was working quite well. I had managed to remove most bobby pins, nail clippers, hair clips, ANYTHING that I could use as a screwdriver to unscrew the latch for the lock.

I was shocked when the safe wouldn't open. This had happened a few times before but only around daylight savings and other things like that. Now, I have a window high above my door that I could probably climb out of in an emergency but it would have been a BITCH to get up there and get through it. I also have a fire ladder but my room is pretty far from the ground level. I dug through the closet and eventually found a stiffer hair pin that I could use as a screwdriver to remove the largest screw. E has helped me reinforce these screws several times and they were pretty secure.

Now the problems started. I couldn't open my safe for the next 3 days. I ate 2 times every night. I knew there was an emergency key to open it but I couldn't find any opening for that key. The manual is written in German (I special ordered this safe from Germany) and I couldn't find it anyway.

Well, my bodywork session was scheduled for 11 am. I desperately wanted to NOT HAVE GAS when I saw K for the first time. I woke up intense stomach pain and started eating more. NOT GOOD! The guts were in bad shape when I got to his house.

We talked for a full hour before I got on the table. I told him about the gas (in addition to telling him EVERYTHING else). He told me that he had gone to a retreat taught by a proctologist. The whole retreat was above embracing and understanding all of the features of the rectum. People walked around naked and farting with eachother for a week. When someone farted, they were supposed to thank them. They took enemas and analyzed feces. This was all to reduce the stigma of the body functions. K told me that he wanted me to feel comfortable with gas and if need be, he would be HAPPY to light a match if it would make me more comfortable. My embarrassment was lessened to a degree. However, when I finally did get on the table, his massage did trigger my guts to want to release gas and I couldn't do it. When I hold it in, it gets trapped and hurts for the rest of the day.

We did have a great session. His hands were amazing and healing. He also did a guided visualization where he told me to go back to my childhood, where I first learned to hate my body and fear food. Then he told me to go even further back and re-teach myself the right lessons. I did it. He told me I can do this visualization ANY TIME for ANY DISTORTED BRAIN VOICE. We can all do this if we want to! If you try it, please tell me how it goes.

But when I left, I still had no solution for my lock. The anxiety wasn't acute but I knew I couldn't afford to buy a knew safe. The first one was over 200 bucks with international shipping.

When I got home last night, ALL of my roommates were in the kitchen cooking wonderful meals. I can't stand when the kitchen is full. I like to prepare food and eat when no one is around. Also, I always want what other people are cooking. I know that isn't great but that is my behavior.

I pictured eating their food after they all went to sleep-- taking a few bites of each dish, as to not show that anything was missing.

I waited till they were done and finally made some food. One of the girls gave me a bowl of her pasta and I ate that bowl, plus too much of my own food. And sadly, the belly being too full was giving me the anxiety that leads to a binge. It was pouring or I would have gone to 7-11 and bought one decent sized dessert. That might have ended it. But I didn't. I went to the kitchen several times that evening and through the night. I ate their food, opened a bag of cookies (not mine), made shitty sandwiches with bread (not mine), and even took the lock off the door in the middle of the night, even after I was so relieved to have it functional again. I was still in binge mode when I woke up with morning. I made some stupid smoothie out of their soymilk, frozen fruit, cocoa, and liquid saccharin. I haven't done that in a long time.

At 11 pm last night, I finally asked my roommate, M, for help. He is the satellite engineer who helps me constantly with every technical challenge I face. He figured out how to take the front panel off to use the key.

Even with the lock system working again, I took the lock off and ate three times.

I weighed myself yesterday, too. I had lost a few pounds the week before and thought I might see another small drop. I didn't. It was the same. That was another 'no no'.

So I think I am done with the maladaptive behaviors for now. I need to go to the grocery store. I need to cook. I need to go to the gym. I need to get rid of some more farts. And I need to start drawing again. Last week was much better because I was doing three art projects at once. It was the perfect thing to deal with my challenge of focusing on one thing at a time.

The night before I wasted watching ED movies on YouTube and exercising alone in the dark since my window shade is gone. Nothing I can do about that. Maybe I learned something, like, don't watch ED movies in the dark while exercising.

Well, I am ending this on a positive note. I have a good music friend in town tonight and I will go see his band play and hang out. If I can get my ass out of the door, I will walk to the gym and then get some groceries.

I might put another ad on Craigslist looking for people in my neighborhood to go on walks late at night. I love to put ads on Craigslist but I never meet with anyone who writes me (for dinners, for dates, for anything). I loose steam really quick. But walks in the neighborhood are pretty doable. This time, I'll get it right.

Have a peaceful day!

I am going to enjoy this day. It is a gift

Decisions, Decisions

2008-06-02T11:14:00.000-07:00

I saw my beloved psychiatrist last Wednesday. I had not seen him since March, as we had been on tour and then my ankle was broken.

We had a great conversation. I am still dialoging with him about my OCD, ADD, and all of the related nonsense. This was the first time I really communicated how much the obsessive compulsive disorder plays into the ED. I also finally articulated how intensely difficult it is to make a decision.

Decision-making has to do with trusting yourself. It has to do with knowing that you are able to make judgment calls about what is best for you (or others and the rest of the world). I presented a classic example of my difficulties with decisions. It took me two weeks to decide if I would purchase a new battery for my pedometer. I was evaluating a) should I use it again? b) should I order one? would it be cheaper? c) should I go to CVS? d) when will I go to CVS? Two weeks and lots of brain time.

Then I told him I had also been spending a lot of brain time thinking about how I was going to increase my income and stability, to the point where I can pretty much guarantee that I will make $2200 a month (what I need to pay my bills and debt). His response- two weeks spent on job thoughts is valid. Anything short of that, anything less important- make a quick decision and let it go. What should I eat is a huge one. Where should I grocery shop? When should I grocery shop? Should I go to multiple stores to save money? Should I buy organic? Should I return groceries? Should I try this recipe? Should I try that recipe? Be a vegan? A fruit-eater? Stop carbs again? Too much brain time.

I think meditation helps. I think having this new awareness helps. I think learning to trust myself is a GREAT IDEA. When I stay present during band practice, I can actually follow discussions about song parts and structuring instead of crying when I get yelled at for having no idea what is going on. Additionally, I realized that I need to be present because I have a knack for knowing how songs should be structured and how many times parts should be played, where they should come, how long they should go. When I am present, I can write the catchiest damn lines. I can make those decisions. Sometimes my band mates listen, sometimes not. But perhaps over time, I can slowly, possibly, earn their respect? They tend to think that I throw out 70%bullshit, and 30% good ideas. I think they are wrong.

But back to decisions. It is now a goal for me to spend less time agonizing over each move I make during the day. It is also a goal for me to stop obsessing over who will get mad at me for each decision I make. And the biggest one- not engage at least some of my OCD behaviors. My OCD behaviors are visual-- I need everything clean (not for bacterial reasons, for visual reasons) and I need things to be ordered properly-- all for visual purposes. Now I know nothing bad will happen if I don't have things in order. I am simply VERY agitated until they are. That's where meditation comes in. I can't control everything. But I can control my breath. I can enjoy my breath.

I learned how to BBQ last night. I am slowly getting over my fear of fire and my roommate taught me how to start the grill. I grilled my dinner all by myself! Now, it may have been more fun to do it with other people, but I couldn't possibly share food. Not yet anyway. I can bake sweet things for others but I have a hard time sharing the healthy things.

These things might not seem directly related to the ED but they really are. The ED loses power when I trust myself, when I learn new things, when I make myself nice dinners and try new foods and recipes and preparation styles. It loses power when I throw food in the trashcan when I am full (my visual OCD wants the plate clean and the food accounted for).

So today is a good day (despite not getting out of the house yet). I made my list of morning goals and have gotten through 4 out of 6. Not bad. Good.

And the best part of all-- I spent a LOT of time starting new art projects this weekend. I am EXCITED about each new idea. I love PROGRESS!

What the doctor really did say....

2008-05-31T08:34:00.000-07:00

I took the day off yesterday.

I had grand plans of going for walk, going to the gym, getting an oil change, making some art-- all of the things I don't get to during the week. My doctor appointment was at 3:45 so I figured I would slowly make my way to the suburbs.

The morning started off well. I cleaned, started cutting colored paper that I was placing on my bedroom walls to cover ugly marks left by the last tenant (some 7 years ago). I decided to trim the hideous shredded bottom of my green window shade so it would at least be clean-looking. I climbed up on the radiator, did what I had to do and began admiring my work. Then, BAM!

I felt a sharp pain in my foot. I looked down and my x-acto knife was sticking straight out of the top of my foot. It was deep but I just yanked it out without thinking. Honestly, it wasn't that bad. The thing bled till late last night when I put super glue in it. I probably should have gotten a stitch or two but it seemed stupid to go the the emergency room for one stitch.

So, I still cut lots of neat-o wall art but didn't get many of the other things done.

And this is what the doctor had to say:

You are still very anemic and Vit D deficient. You don't absorb iron well and you don't store it (duh, I had a gastric bypass). Then she started asking about osteoperosis, menstrual periods, and about my stomach function.

I told her about my stomach. Debilitating gas, diarrhea, constipation, and bloating, usually everyday. She tested me for celiac disease but also suggested that I might have a bacterial overgrowth in my small intestine. I happen to be 100% certain I have bacterial overgrowth in my small intestine. But she still wants me to see a gastroenterologist and make me do hydrogen and methane breath tests which aren't all too accurate.

The treatment is first antibiotics to kill off the overgrowth and then probiotics to try to build up the healthier bacteria.

I wish we could have just done that.

But I am THRILLED that I might get some relief from my constant stomach agony. I always had hope that it would get better.

I just love progress.

I cleaned out a little of the jungle that is my urban backyard this morning. I now have some potted herbs and vegetables. I will probably get a few more. This is SO IMPORTANT TO ME! I am kind of obsessed with not buying expensive produce from stores and my farmers market is even more expensive.

I have been meditating. Meditation, for me, is a very good thing.

This weekend is going to be full of band practices. I never wrote about the last blow-out with our vocalist. It was rather traumatic. This is the first time we are together since then. Shows were canceled, and hopes dashed.

But there is always hope.

love you guys.

The doctor said.

2008-05-29T10:44:00.001-07:00

I had significant blood work done last Friday. Tuesday morning I got a message from the physician's office that I need to make an appointment with my doctor to discuss the results. I am trying not to speculate. If my vitamin or mineral levels were low, she would have called me to tell me to take more or new supplements.

I just have an odd feelings.

In 2005, I had a series of spinal MRI's as I have a bizarre sensation that my spine was sticking through my back and digging into everything. That was due in part to being undernourished and underweight. The MRI showed some mildly herniated and bulging discs. There was also one "hot spot" in one of the upper mid verterbrae. Further exploration said that it was a 'benign hemangioma', a little bruising.

In the last several months, I have felt this odd twinge in that same spot. It used to come only sporadically and I just thought it was a muscle knot. Now it comes and stays, all day, every day. It isn't pain, it is just an odd sensation, but I feel it getting bigger. Actually it is now becoming painful when I take a large breath.

We'll see. Appt is tomorrow, Friday, 3:45.

It'll be fine.

Peace.

I Remember

2008-05-27T15:11:00.001-07:00

I remember when I starting writing this blog, I had hoped to contribute something positive to this community. This is a great place to vent and to get feedback but I want to remind myself that this is also a forum to talk to myself in a hopeful and uplifting way. I am not speaking affirmations exactly, but a personal dialog to think things through and pull out the challenges and the lessons.

Sunny Days

2008-05-26T07:44:00.000-07:00

I am feeling kind of positive right now. That feeling of positivity is a choice. I like that feeling.

Last night I was reflecting on a lot of different things that have happened in the last year or two or five. Despite all of the battles, I have made tremendous progress in many areas of my life. That progress continues every day. Moods are supposed to go up and down. Messes will be made. And by golly gosh, bodies are infinitely changing. If I had to choose between a body missing limbs or a body ravaged with disease, I would gladly take mine. I mean no disrespect to any human because I truly love and value people/animals in every condition. My point is simply that my body is serving me. If I treat it with care, respect, love, and honor, it will continue to serve me. It is important to me to try to consume less pesticides, less genetically-altered foods, less chemicals and preservatives. I have even stopped using artificial sweeteners. That is HUGE. It is important to me to push my household recycling, reduce our use of power, and leave less of a 'carbon' print on the world at large. In both of these areas, I have made tremendous progress. I can't change the world but I am responsible for my own behaviors and I can gently offer some insights into change for those around me.

I know I'm rambling a little. I have a student coming in five minutes but I just want to write a little reflection before he gets here.

Hope everyone is enjoying this weekend!

Love you all.

The Battle Continues

2008-05-23T08:08:00.000-07:00

I do apologize for not posting.

I have not seen my shrink since mid-March.

I stopped seeing my ED counselor for financial reasons and time constraints.

I thought if I ignored some things, they might go away.

At this point, in whatever place (place in life in general) I am living in, I believe this ED or lack of it, to be a set of deeply ingrained maladaptive behaviors. I believe that my brain is so well schooled in how to fire neurons on paths that spark these behaviors, that I will need major interruptions and re-training and new stimulation, to re-set and reboot.

I know that some of these resets and reboots can begin with a regular practice of insight meditation. I have started meditating again-- alone and in a group. My natural rebel, however, kicks in when I say, "OK I am going to meditate 30 minutes a day every day. But I think I noticed late last week, I was calmer in general and more thoughtful about food, and I think more thoughtful about my life.

Then I rebeled. Big Time. I don't know what happened starting Sunday. I think I have been bingeing since then, or eating recklessly. I do know what happend. Some seriously bad stuff with my band happened. More on that later.

But somehow, with all that eating, and without trying, I have lost a few pounds. I can certainly afford to lose a few, but I wasn't trying. I was bingeing.

I think I have diabetes. I'm getting a blood glucose test today if I can manage to fast for a few more hours.

I can't stop drinking water. I can't stop peeing. I have had fungal infections on my skin for months despite multiple ointments of steroidal strength. If I do have diabetes, I brought it on myself.

I am not really worried. I'll just wait and see what the tests reveal.

I think my band might be winding down. Our singer is just not on the same boat as we are. We are tired of fighting for something with every ounce of human energy available when all of the players are not on that boat. E is already starting something new. It is still going to be the 3 of us but we are also asking our label manager to play with us, and working with a female vocalist. I'm not excited. I havent indulged the feelings yet but I feel like my child has died. I have no close family. I have no friends (not true, I do, but sometimes I feel like I don't) . I only have this band.

It hurts. I loved us.

I know that in Buddhist teachings, it is longing and craving that causes suffering. I would like to not suffer. It is up to me.

The weather has been amazing and I have two feet again. I have been walking some and that is amazing to me.

I am going out with a new boy tonight. I have NO feelings for him whatsoever. But he has been asking me out for two months so I finally gave in. ANY break from my routine is a good thing.

I have a real stalker who lives in the neighborhood next to mine. He has done some deep searching and found my unlisted home phone number. He knows my address and he calls late at night. My roommates know the drill. I am waiting for him to show up when I am taking out the trash in the alley at midnight.

I'll be ready.

I hope you guys are great. Have a beautiful weekend. Breathe.

anxiety

2008-04-28T09:13:00.000-07:00

I am at work. I am substituting for a 7th grade math teacher and I'm in the midst of a nasty anxiety attack. I was sitting in the 7th grade team room right now eating lunch with my mother, a reading teacher, and the school's media assistant. When I walked in the room I saw a paper on the table advertising long term disability insurance for teachers. You have to be a full time staff member to qualify purchasing a policy. It triggered terror.

I am not going to rattle off the list of the things/securities/funds I don't have. You have heard me whine about it a thousand times. If we lived in a country with socialized healthcare, maybe I wouldn't have yet one more fear hanging over my head. We don't. And even with the right administration, I can't see that change coming about quickly or easily.

The thoughts are surging through my head. I know they are just thoughts but they are based on real and scary scenarios. Is the one solution to go back to teaching full time? I really don't know. I feel like I don't know anything anymore. I want to be positive right now but I have to allow these feelings. If I stuff them with food, I loose the whole day.

Melancholia

2008-04-25T05:13:00.000-07:00

I had a good day on Wednesday. I think that may have been the only day this week that I felt was good. There is something going on with me. One of the culdy girls suggested hashing it out in here and perhaps I'll figure out what's going on.

I know there is one major thought that is running through my head. It is not positive or constructive and it hasn't directly led to a major change, at least not yet.

I am sick of my life.

I am so tired of being debt. I am so tired of worrying about money. I am so tired of trying to make music with a couple of real assholes. I am not a good musician and I feel like I have taken this joke far enough. I am tired of living in a body that can't quite make it nutritionally. I ALWAYS have a few vitamin and mineral deficiencies from the gastric bypass. It is like there is a symptomatic rotation. Iron stores gone- tired, light headed, blue hands. Vit D and Calcium- I break bones. Thyroid- my hair falls out. Zinc- I start getting fungal infections in the corners of my mouth/lips and hands. And the gas. I never stop thinking about the gas. It is present more often than not. I am so tired of a brain that is all over the place, in every direction, at all moments of the day. I am tired of wandering around alone.

It could be worse. It could always be worse. But I want it to be better. No one is going to show up and make it better. No prince charming is going to start buying my groceries and cooking my food. No personal trainer is going to knock on my door and ask to help me develop muscle tone. No surgeon is going to waltz in and reverse my surgery. And the DC housing authority won't call to invite me to my new sunny apartment in a nice neighborhood with lots of light. I have to make these things happen.

I just sat and paused because I'm not sure what to write next.

I have to focus on the successes and the hope.

I did make a few positive changes this week.

Off topic-

My one female friend and I went to Target last night. We tried on some shitty Target clothes. I had been telling myself that 147 was not a bad place to be. It is a stable place for me and my body really wants to be this weight. It has wanted to be this weight for a very long time. But it doesn't look good. My doctor says it is not a death sentence and it doesn't have to be forever.
I bought a shirt even though I promised myself yesterday that I would never spend money on anything ever again except food and gas. Busted. One shirt, one bottle of vitamins, and no sunscreen.

I want to live on a farm. I want to know the seasons are changing by the harvests and the planting rituals, not by the onslaught of plastic flip flops in CVS.

Today it is my job to get myself in a better mood because no one is going to fix any of this. All of my bullshit is truly a matter of perspective. This is my day and I can choose to enjoy it, to learn something, to help someone, and to make something cool. So, that is what I will do.

How to Have Fun with your Favorite (Family) Junkie

2008-04-21T06:03:00.000-07:00

1. Steal his shit first

2. Hide the spoons

3. Remove his lump of tarry heroin and replace it with tarry baby turds.

4. Rat on his dealer

5. Write on his face with a sharpie when he's nodding

6. Dip his needles in pee- pee

7. Put tacks on the bathroom floor just before he vomits

8. Tell him his poetry sucks

9. Change the locks and bar the windows, this time for real!

10. Put him in a straightjacket to induce withdrawl and pump and pump a Tammy Faye Baker sermon through the speakers at full blast.

Strange and Wonderful Things

2008-04-18T19:40:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in my bedroom listening to a radio show. The DJ is a fellow who I met on Craiglist. The guy is married but wants to have a crush on me. He only knows me because of the band. I'm not interested. I answer the emails because I want even the smallest token of male affection even if its only from an email written by someone I have never met. He is married. Pathetic.

This week has been very strange. I don't know if I can honestly say I've made progress. I know I am trying. I am trying to learn too many things at once and it's hard to master anything when your brain is flying in a million directions. Its so hard to measure progress when its NOT a number getting smaller on a scale.

While preparing my taxes, I discovered that I spent over $7000 last year in out-of-pocket medical expenses (that was an underestimation). My income is $14000 a year. Health insurance premiums, hospital co-pays, tons of medication ( i didn't even include all the supplements I have to take because of the gastric bypass) doctor visits, shrinks, counselors, gas to and from the hospital, two months without work because I was in the hospital.

Dare I say I have had enough.

I called my ED counselor and told her I can't see her for a while. I can't pay my balance as it is.
Maybe this wasn't the smartest thing to subtract from the equation. That remains to be seen.
I need my afternoons to either tutor or play music. I feel so guilty though.

The surgeon who did my gastric bypass has several hundred videos on YouTube. He has videos showing the procedure, showing the pre-clinic visits, showing his happy little post-ops, showing him answering questions.

I found one about the gas. ANY time, you bypass the upper intestine, the bacteria in your lower gut are forced to breakdown all the food matter. The result is an strangely excess amount of methane and sulfuric gas. Thus, the strange and bizarre odor. I will have this for the rest of my life, unless I have the surgery reversed. That seems unlikely.

He mentioned that fats and milk products are extremely brutal ( I knew about the milk but I didn't consider the hundreds of foods that have milk product as ingredients). I NEVER was told that fats cause terrible gas. My guts cant break them down. He also mentioned the typical offenders: cabbage, beans, broccoli, sugars... If you add corn syrup to the mix, and most raw vegetables, and you have a 24 hour a day explosion of pain and offensive smells. But hey! I weigh less than 200 pounds. I look sort of average with clothes on.

And I sit and stink up my room.

NOW I know I am not damned to a life of tragedy and loneliness (at least this is what I tell myself).

I am trying to pick ONE new thing to learn. Maybe the Japanese will invent something to make your intestines smell good, like jellyfish.

I know I am all over the place with this post.

I have more to write, but alas, I will have social hour now, with my ex boyfriends.

At least I can walk across the street!!!

Love you guys.

Please try to have the best weekend that you possibly can!

Amalia

Clothes, Kitchens, the "Hug and Hold "

2008-04-13T08:30:00.000-07:00

This past Friday, the temperature reached 81 degrees Fahrenheit in Washington, DC. The act of looking through my closet and dresser drawers instigated a drop in mood from peaceful to melancholy. I have no attractive clothes that fit my body.

In the last year I have amassed countless huge t-shirts. I bought one pair of jeans from Chico's that were actually decent the day I bought them. Every other garment is an ill-fitting hand-me-down, or from a box in an alley. I won't rehash my whiny story of financial crisis. I'm sure it's getting old. The reality is that I am adding another CHALLENGE to the list-- must find decent clothes. I stress 'find' because these hypothetical clothes won't be bought in stores. Last year I placed at ad on craiglist.org that read, "Recovering anorexic in search of clothes from your goodwill pile". I did manage to meet one young DC go-getter who was moving and donating a bag of trendy things from last season. I was extremely grateful for her generosity but most of the items didn't quite fit. Maybe I will try again.

Yesterday, E (bandmate, ex, and parent-like friend who can be pretty honest and very nasty at times) ran errands for music equipment. I knew we would be working on song writing after we were done. He was brutal, frustrated, and a real bitch while we were working. I understand his frustrations as I am not the quickest fish in the pond when we were writing songs. Additionally, I am so stressed trying to make up something cool quickly, that I don't even start to think about how my parts should change throughout the songs. Just like with cooking, figuring out what to add to make it taste or sound better, is not my strength.

The hunger sensation started at 8:30 pm. Sometimes it goes away if you ignore the first twinges. This particular hunger only became increasingly present. I could not get up from the organ however, without E losing his mind. Finally by 9:50 pm, we recorded something. I was a mess but the basic parts were there. I went downstairs to try to start putting together some kind of dinner. E is a good cook. He lives across the street and will occasionally offer me dinner. When I eat his dinners though, I can't even imagine the calorie content. It shouldn't matter yet some days it does. Today was one of those days. Stressed. I was very stressed.

I opted to do something in my kitchen and E left. My house was empty. It was quiet. Being in that kitchen gives me an incredible sense of sadness. It has been the starting, continuing, and ending site of SO MANY self destructive behaviors. I would love to start fresh somewhere else. With rent being what it is in DC, that might never happen OR to re-frame, it would be an incredible challenge to find a new home with a different kitchen. Large empty house. Quiet except for my ringing ears. I didn't binge. I eat a reasonable dinner. Went out for a walk later, with E, of course. It was my first recreational walk since the ankle breakage. Once the nasty storm is over, we go back to being friends without any discussion. Not healthy.

I'm sick of eating alone. I also decided last night that I was tired and wanted to be held. By who? Where?

I think my next ad for craigslist will read "34 year old SWF from Washington, DC, seeks human for dinners and holding. The ideal person will be a good cook and will also provide the food." Sounds like a win-win!

I'm going to place the ad, just to see what happens. I'll let you guys know.

The Sun Will Come Out-- Today.

2008-04-10T08:51:00.001-07:00

I have meant to write every evening this week.

My brother took me to the grocery store after his wife went to work on Monday morning. I asked him if he was using oxycontin. He says that he get scrips for 100 pills a month BUT he doesn't use them. He claimed that oxycontin does nothing for him. He claimed that oxycontin only makes him sleepy but does nothing to alleviate his severe and chronic back pain. He stated that with his MRI (multiple hearniated and compressed discs), he could get a scrip for the rest of his life. However, he prefers his muscle relaxers. Could it be a combination of high doses of Atavan for anxiety, Lexapro for depression, and some unnamed muscle relaxer- that he could nod while driving his wife, baby, and sister? Me no think so.

He offerred me Adderall for my ADD. What a sport.

My sister-in-law is very concerned as they are now having financial problems. Her father is a multi-millionaire and would be willing to help but my brother is too ashamed to tell them he lost two jobs in less than a year. Instead he walks around the house with his eyes half closed, leaving dishes in the sink, and NOT sending out resumes.

It's his life. It's his pride. I wish I could take that baby right now. I promise I would feed her and never call her fat. I firmly believe that I can break the cycle. I know how to love someone. I know how to set limits and reinforce without yelling.

Work: I got a design assignment that I am loving. A professor who is a fan of the band asked me to design an Ex Libris for him. This is right up my alley and is inspiring me to get myself a portfolio together to ellicit Illustration work. I need to seriously increase my skills with Adobe Illustrator but there are lots of online tutorials, if I can just stay focused.

I also met with my new tutoring client this week. He is a high school senior and we are getting along great. His mom happens to be the owner of the gym I belonged to for five years. I quit this fall because I couldn't afford it. She is going to give me my membership back because I gave her a tutoring discount. She wants me to work with him next year in Junior College as well. It will be my pleasure.

I am currently negiotating with a woman who wants me to help her write a literature review for her graduate thesis due next month.

Another friend who owns a yoga studio has asked me to build an online presence for her in myspace and facebook. We are working out those details.

I also got hired my a marketing company to do research on a project by project basis.

I feel hopeful.

I am off crutches. My ankle is healing appropriately. Today I am substitute teaching. It's my first day back. My bandmates took me to my parents' house last night and my mom drove me to work with her today. It was a relatively calm evening in the K. household of loonies. I am not supposed to drive for another month but at least I can walk. I love to walk.

The band has been writing new songs. I suddenly feel like I am heading into interesting new territory with my organ and piano playing. Yesterday I was jamming like Jerry Lee Lewis and it was a great feeling. I am fighting every urge to space out during practice.

Even with sitting around for three weeks with no exercise and eating what I consider to be much more than acceptable, I have not gained weight. Sometimes it blows me away how much I can eat and not gain weight. I am at my set point; this is the only possible explanation.

Now, there are still TONS of problems. There are MAJOR financial worries, more battle with the ED hospital for bills that I already settled, doctor bills that haven't even started to come in, and the ever-growing debt.
However, when I am learning, creative, productive, and working, the problems lose their fury.

This whole experience has forced me to assess what I CAN do and try to overcome major feelings of inadequacy. The feelings exist but I can't afford to listen.

It's lunchtime at the middle school and I am hungry. I will eat.

Have Headache, Will Follow

2008-04-06T21:16:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl, I used to write a very peculiar phrase over and over.

"Have headache, will follow."

I wonder what the hell I was trying to say. I always felt ill when I was little. I had constant headaches, stomaches, sore throats, sinus infections, sprains and whatnot. I imagine this is pretty typical of most kids. But today I wonder if those little sicknesses were exacerbated by incest, forced dieting, and self-loathe. Gotcha.

I had a better day today. I woke up a little late and focused, once and for all, on the mountain of mess that was/is my record keeping. I got some numbers together, scanned some documents, and emailed the whole little package to my accountant.

My brother, R, called me around noon. He asked if I would like to go to his house later that day. I haven't seen my infant niece since Jan 1, last time they needed a babysitter. I hold no grudges. They had no problem waiting till I finished my taxes. I had a pretty productive day. I managed to recycle a TON of extra papers that I had stuck within all my important documents. I even managed to roughly file some of the mess. I still need to go back and separate everything by year but the filing system has at least given me a first step toward order. I also accomplished two things on my computer that had been frustrating me and finally, today, problem solved.

My brother, his wife, and the baby picked me up around 4:30. My brother was clearly on something. He drove and he was falling asleep and weaving the whole way home. I can't even believe that one brother is finally OFF heroin and now I am 98% certain that 'normal' brother is addicted to Oxycontin. He has lost two jobs in six months. His first firing occurred a week after the baby was born. I know he takes Lexapro, Ativan (he has major anxiety) and some 'muscle relaxer' or at least that is what his wife said. When I asked R what muscle relaxer he was taking, he said he wasn't. However, last week when we spoke about my ankle, he asked if I needed anything for pain, anything like Oxycontin. I silently died.

My Brother The Junky, Round TWO by Amalia Grape

I am at his house right now. He was too fucked up to drive me back to the city. His wife has to get up early to go to work. He babies his wife. She offered to drive me back (everyone knows I hate being in the suburbs) and he discouraged her. LET THE WOMAN OUT FOR GODSAKE!

Should I ask him in the morning? He is defensive, uptight, and our relationship is already shaky from 10 years of incest. I am thinking that there is no one else in the world that could call him out. His wife is totally naive. He has cut himself off from my parents. He doesn't associate with his friends anymore. His wife's family is totally in the dark about everything, including the second firing.

He's going to freak on me.

My crazy dreams continue. Last night, just after I feel asleep I had the sensation that there were hands all over me, trying to first hug me, and then squeeze tighter and tighter and tighter. I know my ED counselor believes your subconscious tries to talk to your conscious mind in your dreams. She (used to be anoretic) used to have a dream where a monster was after her and eventually she became lucid enough in her dreams that she was able to kiss him on the cheek. Then she saw that it wasn't a monster. It was a very large sad woman. Her interpretation of this was that it was just a person inside her with true appetites for food that were begging to be fed- begging to experience nutrition AND pleasure that can come from eating.

Last night I remembered this in my dream because it felt so real that I was convinced I was awake. I tried to turn myself around to kiss the faceless force that touches me and squeezes me and I couldn't turn. I was stuck. I have to think more about what my subconscious is telling me here.

There are photos on the walls here. There are photos of me with the baby right after she was born in December. I don't look fat. I look fine. I thought I was huge then. Why oh why do we destroy ourselves? I don't want to wake up when I am 60 and think I spent the last 55 years hating myself.

I don't hate myself. I just wish the world truly CELEBRATED all types of bodies, all types of ladies- even ones with loose skin and jiggly parts all over. We are people, too. We all want to be loved and cherished. We all want to be held. We all want to learn, travel, enjoy food, enjoy people, enjoy our environment. I do think secretly, deep down inside, somewhere within each one of us, there is peace.

I just don't know.

2008-04-06T00:04:00.001-07:00

Thank you to everyone who has reached out the last few days. I don't know what my problem is. I went back down the rabbit hole.

I wasn't sure if I should write out everything that was going on in my brain or just try to erase them with positive self talk and reframing questions.

I am going to write some of it out. Otherwise I'll keep eating.

Last week when I got home from tour (with broken ankle) and weighed myself. It was not a happy number but it was my 'set point' and it was less than I have convinced myself that I had become.

Now, that number has nothing to do with the REAL problems but it is a problem. I have been in the house CONSTANTLY. I have been worrying, trying to get jobs, trying to sort out my taxes, and trying to somehow find money to pay for my April bills. I thought my mom was going to lend me around $300. I have been waiting for a check to arrive from South America from a woman who subletted my room for one week while I was on tour. It hasn't show up. A piece of artwork that had sold last month was supposed to bring me another $100. The gallery owner has been out of town for several weeks and I haven't been able to get that check either.

Friday morning I emailed my mom and cc'ed my dad. I asked my mom straight out if she could pay my rent-- about $560. Yes it was more than I had asked her to prepare for. I also reminded them that my next orthopedist appointment was this coming tuesday during the day. I needed one of them to try me.

My dad wrote back in all caps. " WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! IM 65 YEARS OLD!"

Then he wrote another one. "When I got your email before you left tour, it made me sick."

I had warned them that I had run out of money. I had begun to try to pay off some of my credit card debt, just barely. I had also put the most insignificant amount of money in a Roth IRA. These are two issues that have added to my feelings of hopelessness in the past and I had decided to face them and work on making changes. But I fucked myself because I lost my one month buffer.

My parents aren't rich-- far from it in fact. My dad has already retired and he is now working as a para educator for an elementary school. My mom is a social studies teacher. The last two years have been horrible for them. Suddenly they were facing a son who was a mentally ill junkie and will probably live with them for the rest of their lives, an adult daughter with anorexia, and a 'normal' son (married, home owner, dog owner, and father) with an addiction to pain killers and severe anxiety. We all hate our mother and can rarely feign pleasantries. The normal brother has now decided that my parents are dead to him.

But back to Friday-- I didn't quite know how to respond to my dad's emails. My mom got them and she called me. I started crying. I wanted my dad to save me. I wanted him to make it better. Instead he screamed at me and implied that I make him sick. I can send home hundreds of newspaper clippings, magazine clippings, web reviews, blah blah blah. But at the end of the day I have no job, no security, and this is all by choice. I have a masters degree and I AM IN A BAND.

If I was financially secure, things would be different.

So my parents flipped. I have been overeating just enough to make me feel like I am probably gaining weight. I simply can't exercise. I have tried to do some shadow boxing with upper body only and lots of light weights with high reps for a more cardio heavy workout. But I can't continue to do this. My arms, shoulders, elbows, and tendons are a firey mess from sudden overuse. The crutches are a bitch and I was taxing my upper body even more.

My brain simplifies this situation into "trapped, fat, penniless, unlovable and no good executable plan to change any of it".

My brain is driving me crazy. Being at home all day is flitting from one thing to the next and getting distracted at every task and never really finishing anything. As I try to calculate all of my deductions I am realizing that my record keeping is atrocious. I have NOT kept most receipts from 2007. I have TONS of expenses that are deductible. My out of pocket medical expenses alone are around $7000.00 and I have about half of those receipts to back it up. I pay union dues for the teaching association and I have no idea what I have paid. I can't find credit card statements for most months and I can't find my bank statements or canceled checks either.

A friend brought me a wheelchair that she found in an industrial space. I had been asking folks to be on the lookout. I kept thinking if I had a wheelchair, at least I could zip around the neighborhood a little. She brought me a chair covered with pigeon feces and missing one arm.

I swear if I had a decent body, I would sell it in some way.

And again, like the last time I posted, I just ate too much food.

We played a show in town last night, and another tonight.

I'm falling asleep writing this. I will really finish in the morning. I have to stay out of the rabbit hole.

Indulge My Boo Hoo Hoo

2008-04-01T15:06:00.000-07:00

Today is rough.

I just binged in a modified, calorically-reduced intake of food. Nonetheless the physical discomfort, emotional upheaval, and nausea from dumping syndrome have all arrived simultaneously to remind me that yes, this in fact, was a binge.

I know what the trigger was. And I don't have the answer.

This is not a full on panic attack but do you ever get the feeling that no matter what you do, no matter what you say, things will never be 'ok'?

I don't even know where to begin. I don't know if I should write it all out.

I think I have to go lay down.

to be continued

One Leg is Better Than No Legs (Work From Home)

2008-03-31T08:10:00.000-07:00

I have been reading blogs far more often that writing. Time to reverse that trend.
My parents dropped me off in the city last Thursday afternoon. There have been positives and challenges everyday since.

The most significant positive report I have is based on social activity. I have managed to either go out at night with friends, or hang out with my roommates, for a few hours every evening since I have gotten back. Getting around on one leg is far more challenging that I ever imagined. Thursday night I tried to hop two blocks, to get to a restaurant close by. Big mistake. The pain and the resulting re-swelling were a quick sign that I am not ready for such adventures. Friday night, another friend drove me a few blocks away to go out to eat and be with people. Then he drove me home and they went back out. Saturday night, our record label manager picked up E. and me and took us to two separate parties, and around 1 am, his girlfriend drove me home. All positives. On Friday, I wrote an email to a friend who sits on the board of about 30 non-profit organizations. I explained my plight and asked if he might be able to find me work I can do from home for the next two months. He sent out my CV just before 5 pm PST (he lives in San Francisco). I got one 'maybe' from a guy who works for the Democratic Party of NC. I guess had was a fan of the band.

Today I will sent out an email to whole entire group of friends. I will explain my situation, briefly describe my skills, and hope for the best. A old student of mine suggested to me last night, that I start selling sex toys. So sweet.

I also need to find a wheelchair so I can at least get around my neighborhood. Doing anything functional has been very challenging. I am a mess in the kitchen because I can't carry anything and I can't stand at the stove to cook. I made some really shitty meals this weekend and that may have been one of the reasons that I did struggle with food.

My challenges have been dealing with anxiety over this situation. I can swing wildly from fear about the issues; having NO money at all, not being able to be independent at all, not being able to exercise, not being able to get anything I need. But then I right myself with basic thoughts like, "This is temporary. I am okay. I have everything I need. I have good friends. My family (god forbid) is helping. I am going to learn so much from this challenge". I certainly will learn a great deal from this challenge. First and foremost, I am hoping to increase my skill set to increase earning potential while traveling with the band, and at home.

Dealing with the real issues is pretty critical here. Jobs, income, loneliness, physical health. I believe that I am a bright, capable person and this too will be okay.

I have to talk about the food because it is an issue. I did pretty well while I was still at my mom's house. They had plenty of leftovers that I felt good about eating. But since I have been home, I am getting increasingly frustrated by what I can prepare. There have been lots of moments of me balancing on one foot in front of the refrigerator, trying to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from bread that is dried out and falling apart. From there, I have been grabbing little bites of food leftover from my roommates. They all tend to prepare foods that they enjoy, and their body weights don't fluctuate in extremes.

I weighed myself last Thursday at my mother's house. Two years ago, if I had seen that particular number on the scale, I would have blown my brains out. However, this past Thursday, I was pleased. I had thought I had entered a whole new realm of digits and I was at the same weight I had been before all the Christmas binges. And honestly, this particular number is probably my set point. That number was the point of origin when I began the descent into anorexia so many years ago.

Now, I feel like, after a weekend of reckless eating, I have taken off again. And because I can't go running, I have doomed myself. That is probably not the case.

I am trying to continue to learn to access my real appetites, my real needs. Today I need a job I can do from home. I need a wheelchair. I need to call my health insurance company and continue to battle them for payment of my inpatient hospitalization, which had already been settled. I just got a letter stating that I still owe money. I have gone back and forth with them, for hours and hours, and hours and the issue was settled. Now it has popped back open with this letter. And I can't find the records I took on my last set of phone calls. I don't know who I spoke with or when. Add that to my credit card debt.

I lost a lot of time this weekend to watching the same old anorexia movies on YouTube. I could have watched "how to" videos to learn about a million things that I want to learn about. So now I evaluate and correct.

Today if I use YouTube, I will watch clips about computers, copy editing, and music.
I made a rough meal plan. I will follow that plan. Late tonight, I will read your blogs.

This past Saturday morning, I wrote a long letter to a culdy friend who I love dearly. I may ask her if she minds if I post part of it, and leave her name out.

I am also going to start writing my "3 things" again.

Yesterday:

For myself, I had lunch with family, bought groceries, picked up meds, and got myself less depressed.
For others, I tried to help my mom, I called my grandfather, and spoke to another lonely person. I saw my homeless friend and talked to him.
For the world, I turned off lights, stopped leaky faucets, recycled.

For all of us working toward a freer mind, I want to send out one general, "YOU CAN DO THIS!" sentiment. Because, YOU CAN! I love all of you unconditionally.

There's no place like "home"?

2008-03-25T09:14:00.000-07:00

I got back to the DC Metro area late yesterday evening. We were supposed to drive back directly after our Sunday night show at Bard college but it didn't happen. One of the wheel bearings on the van went bad and the tire almost fell off while we were driving. So I missed at 8am appt with the orthopedist on Monday morning.

Last night, E drove me in my car to my parents' house. He dropped me off and then took himself back to the city. I am having flashbacks to being a teenager, trapped in this house of insanity. My mother is completely nuts. My dad is half-in, half-out (tolerable at times even though I like the guy) and my brother has a long standing battle with major drug addiction and mental illness. The doctor appt has been rescheduled for today.

My goals for today are: 1) be nice to my mother no matter how difficult. She is intensely sensitive and wants love and high praise in every conversational exchange. My natural demeanor when I enter this house as, at its best, stoic, flat, critical, and defensive. I do not want to engage her anymore than necessary.

2) Ask for help when I need it. My leg is a swollen mess because I haven't been laying in bed with it properly elevated. There is no wi fi here. The idea of asking my mother for food is just insane. This morning she offered me a hard boiled egg and a carrot for breakfast. The more I am on my feet, the longer it takes to heal. I am going to just eat what she offers.

3) Focus on gratitude and positives. I can't solve my money problems today. I am really thankful that I have only broken an ankle. I could have SO MANY MORE SEVERE problems. My ankle will heal. I will walk again. I will run again. I will use this time wisely.

4) Follow instructions.

I am not going to be a sad "poor me" person. I just had an amazing tour with some fantastic shows in cities that we have NEVER done well previously. There has been a TON of great press, and great reviews, and great interviews, and articles. And even with a broken ankle, we still had three great shows. Even if my family is nuts, thank god they are around to help me.

After today, i am going to send an email out to all of my friends asking if anyone has any type of desk job that I may be able to do for a few months. I am pretty adept at research, academic papers, editing. I would even be willing to do data entry or answer phones. I am going to ask my friend to host an art show for me for one night and try to sell a bunch of work and finally attempt to get commissions for portraits and illustrations. I am guessing that I need to raise about $4500 dollars to pay for three months of bills and I BELIEVE that it can be done.

Every month my friend J who owns an art gallery and I joke that this is the month we go to the knees ( prostitution) to pay bills. I am not going there just yet.

And do I want to lose weight? You betcha, BUT, I have a lot of REAL messes to clean and I will focus on that. I am truly learning how much of a complete and utter waste of time and distraction this disease is. The longer I stay in it, the less I am able to focus on what my true desires are.

We ALL have a right to be able to express our true desires for food, for sex, for love, for human connection. Life is about living, learning, loving, and creating. Mutilating ourselves is simply a distraction from whats truly missing. I have lots of missing parts but the pieces are available to capture when I am ready , willing, and able.

Even with a broken bone, I am ready, willing, and able.

I miss you guys terrible and I am glad to be home. I love you all in EVERY stage of recovery or lack there of. We can get there. We can make it. Let's beat the odds, my friends. Lets stand up to the powers that be and decide we are going to be happy right now.

busted and perky

2008-03-21T09:20:00.000-07:00

Hey Everyone, I have had almost no internet access this whole tour and I have been missing everyone quite a bit. We are on the final stretch but I'm trying to get home a little earlier.

I was sleepwalking in Minneapolis Thursday night and fainted 3 times and broke my ankle. I have a horrible cast and have to have surgery when I get home. I am panicked because when substitute teachers don't work, they don't get paid and I am not going to be able to drive. I have no one that I can really ask for help. My family may or may not be an option but they are simply not people that I can count on or even want to.

I know it will be okay. It always is.

I was lucky enough to meet DG in Austin. She is beautiful, wonderful, sweet, and amazing.

Meeting DG was the highlight of my whole trip.

Its Just Food, Dude

2008-03-09T10:33:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning (one of my favorite Velvet Underground songs).

We are in Raleigh, NC. The first two shows were great and we are on tour with a great band.

I feel like I have been eating too much. I am not counting calories. And I am eating at night.

I am not able to read how everyone is doing right now. I simply just don't have enough time online. When I have internet time, I will read. But I am thinking of everyone and hoping you are well, and if you are not, that you are safe.

I am not too upset at the moment about the food. If I get upset, it only gets worse. Its only rock 'n roll.

haha.

There is a cute boy in the band we are on tour with. I could have a very flirty month with him if I wanted to. Not sure I want the drama. I tend to flirt just until I think they want something. They ALWAYS want something. And then I feel like I absolutely can't hook up with them because of my wacky body, saggy, loose, mushy, and not ANYTHING like a boy would expect from a chick who otherwise looks VERY VERY young. I have a baby face and there is a huge discrepancy.

I want to wear a t-shirt that says, "Baby face, old lady body-- I'm not joking".

I don't think people would get it.

I just don't want to have to explain.

Millions of things reduced to two

2008-03-06T20:28:00.000-08:00

I had a million things that I wanted to write about today. Now I am so tired that I can barely remember two.

I saw my ED counselor today, Claire. She is pretty astute. She had anorexia during her entire undergraduate career and it really does help to know that she knows exactly what I have experienced but she has been there. She gave me a book to read and many of you have probably read it. Caroline Knapp's Why Woman Want. I started it tonight. Looking forward to learning how I need to acknowledge and relish in my wants, needs, AND desires. I am human AND I have desires. This is a tough one. The only life I know is one that doesn't allow for any acknowledgment of human needs. There are multiple sources for that mode of thinking, obviously, and I don't need to rehash them all right now.

Claire is very into dreams and the messages that our unconscious gives us. She talks about the shadow self, the person who is chasing us or killing us in our dreams is very often the part of ourselves that we are trying to suppress in our waking life. She described for me a dream where this very angry obese woman was chasing her and wanted to kill her, so she kissed the woman and the woman relaxed. Then a whole parade of women of all sizes came into her room to celebrate in a parade like fashion. She thinks her unconscious fear, this woman who obviously had needs AND desires for food, needed to be acknowledged, supported, and loved.

It almost makes sense.

Since returning to food, I have started dreaming again. Those dreams are VERY scary and quite often, I will bolt awake, and that is when I run down to the kitchen and start shoveling food in my mouth. She has maintained all along that the night eating was one attempt to supress that unconscious fear.

I have had 3 days in a row without nighteating. I have woken up (im still locking myself in my room) after freaky dreams, but I have not jumped up witha desperate need for food. I have stayed in bed. I am making some new patterns.

We leave for tour tomorrow. I will be back to writing a little less often.

My three things:

Today, for myself, I ate foods I truly enjoyed. I took several walks outside.
For others, I held doors for people, was kind with driving courtesies, took E to an art show, hung out and talked to people.
For the world, I put my car in neutral at every traffic light, walked to do my errands, turned off lights in public places that didn't need to be lit, recycled.

My goals for tomorrow- I will eat meals consisting of foods that I will prbably enjoy. I am also going to express my desires. I am not quite sure how, but I'm going to do it.

Thanks to everyone who offered support today. I wonder if there is a correlation between the onset of early spring like behavior and some us doing a little better. Lots of spring coming our way!

I wrote this Wednesday night, now its Thursday morning

2008-03-05T18:33:00.000-08:00

I have feelings. My feelings were hurt on Monday. My feelings were hurt again today.

This past Monday, I emailed my father. It was a beautiful day in DC and I haven't seen him since before we left for tour in the early part of February. I love my dad. He isn't perfect, far from it. He can be a real asshole, but I still love him and I know he loves me. The last three years of his life have become complete unadulterated hell (my mom's too but I don't like her and I think she deserves this). The reason for their lives falling apart is having to face my 21 year old brothers massive drug addiction, major mental illnesses, and his criminal behavior. How they didn't know more before now, I will never know. I was clueless too, but I had my own addiction. I have written about little brother B before so i won't rehash the whole story. Essentially, because my parents never stood up to him, never gave him a consequence, never truly parented, he has kept them prisoners of their home. He is 6'4" tall and about 300 some pounds and he could be a sociopath. He truly has very little ability to know things right from wrong. He has his own little code of ethics; never hit a woman. That's about it. Anything else is completely self-serving. He was a MAJOR heroin dealer for many years before the addiction took hold. He prided himself on all of the money he saved. And then one day, he stopped dealing, because several of his friends got busted. He tells me that he had a chunk of heroin the size of a basketball that he couldn't sell. And when he wasn't getting high from making tons of money, he lost all hope and starting shooting his own supply. He went through $15,000 in a few months and then began robbing people and houses to support his habit. I only found out about ANY of this on my shameful Spring tour 2006, when I started rebound binging. He was trying to quit and finally told my parents. I nearly lost my mind when they told me. I knew that they would never be able to make the right decisions regarding his treatment or whatever else they had to deal with. Basically, my crazy fucking brother became the head of the household and turned the upstairs into some horrible crack den. I couldn't walk around because his room was full of pipes and needles and bottle of urine. He was too paranoid to leave his room sometimes to go to the bathroom. And my parents just catered too him or he would completely tantrum. And they were terrified of him.
They thought he was capable of killing them. Maybe he was. When I got back from tour, I was coming home constantly to tell them what to do and to try to handle Brett. I felt like I was the only adult that had any sense (even though I was an anorexic losing her mind because of a 5 pound weight gain, that still didn't put me in the healthy weight range).

Two years later- they hired a professional interventionist, lost thousands of dollars when Brett was kicked out of two rehab hospitals in California, and just lost thousands more dollars paying a private attorney to defend him in a felony assault charge. Of course, he was innocent. But finally, having spent two days in jail, he claims he hit bottom. But he is still a sociopath. He has NO respect for authority or any gauge of moral or ethical decision making.

And I still love him. If I stop and think about everything, I can't describe the gut wrenching pain. He is 13 years younger than me and was my baby growing up. My mom wasn't there, and when she was, I knew she wasn't parenting. So I did it, the best I could.

Fast forward to Monday. I wanted to go for a walk with my dad, so I emailed him at work. He said that Monday wasn't good for him. He wrote back "How about Wednesday?"

I had just made plans to see my sister-in-law and my new baby niece on Wednesday. I have one other brother who is married and just had a baby. I havent seen the baby in two months and I wanted to see her before I left town again.

I replied to my father. "I have plans to go see SK and the baby." He wrote back "We'll play it by ear."

I never heard from him again.

Well this morning I sent a text message and an email to my sister in law. I was checking to see if she wanted me to come over right after work, or later, after rush hour. I never heard from her (not till much later). He could have a million other things going on in his life. I just wish he wanted to see me.

At 1:45 pm, I started thinking about frozen yogurt. I had eaten only ½ of my breakfast at 6:45 am. By 12:15, I was finally hungry (I try to eat when I feel the real hunger sensation) but my stomach had been so painfully gassy all morning, I didn’t want to eat all of my lunch either. At 1:45, I started researching where in the DC Metro area I could get frozen yogurt. I found two places that I wanted to go to. That's me being a baby. I also recognize that I put his behaviors in control of my actions, and I don't have to do that.

But I was hurting. I knew my sister-in-law was going to blow me off. And because she never communicated with me till late afternoon, I couldn’t call my dad and say lets go for a walk after all. So no baby and no daddy.

I went to one of the frozen yogurt places when I was driving back to the city where I live. They had a 10 cal per ounce kind. I bought a medium and ate part of it outside on the bench like a normal person. I had NO idea if this was bad. I thought it was pretty bad, that I had no right to do this. If I want a ‘treat’ then I better damn well eat it late at night, lest I start binging because I have gotten upset with my food choice.

I knew the frozen yogurt was going to make my stomach hurt worse. I am lactose intolerant and was not carrying lactose-enzymes. I even thought about purging and I am not much of a puker. But that would have been a disaster. I imagined that since my band mates thought I had plans, at least I could go home and sleep off the agony of more gas pains and possible dumping syndrome.

When I walked in my front door, EJ and B were already in the house, drinking my coffee.

I had to play. If they are there, I have to play music. You just don’t not play because you don’t feel good. Not acceptable.

I had more yogurt on the brain and was counting the seconds until they left.

At 8pm, I wasn’t even hungry for dinner yet. I started reading a book and then doing sit ups. Someone rang my doorbell and I knew they saw me doing sit ups. I let the person in the house and then ran to the kitchen and started eating some half-assed cold leftovers.

And then I went and got more yogurt. It was not a binge but I didn’t need a size large.

Should I tell my sister in law that she hurt my feelings? That she kind of ruined my afternoon because I could’ve seen my dad (even though he never called or wrote me again). I let her ruin my afternoon.

I have a history of blowing people off so I don’t exactly feel like I have a right to say anything to her but I want too. I think both yogurts today were because of my feelings.

I really don’t know what to do. I leave Friday.

Love you all very much! Amalia

3 more things and Tuesday tales

2008-03-04T19:25:00.000-08:00

Today, for myself, I ate three meals, spent time outside, rearranged my room, and bought new running shoes.

For others- I tried to find my photographer friend a place to stay at the festival we are playing in Austin. I took EJ to run two errands he needed to do. I gave my roommate some instant pudding ( I'm not good at sharing food).

For the world- I walked around the city to run my errands and did not use my car. I turned off lots of lights in the house. I made certain I took a quick shower. I recycled.

I found out today that my band's publicist is trying to get us on the Conan O'Brien television show. Pretty cool. But the ED voice tells me VERY LOUDLY that I have to be thin to be on TV. This was my worst nightmare-- that we would start doing really well when I got heavier. I saw some video from our CD release show Friday night. I looked okay. I guess until I know whether it is going to happen, I just need to eat 3 meals a day, and probably a few snacks. And the more I like the food I eat, and the more I eat slowly, patiently, and feel satisfaction, the lesser the desire is to binge. This is about healing. This is about feeling. This is about communicating. I'm going to be ok. I already am.

3 things

2008-03-04T08:46:00.000-08:00

I am so glad that Ania posted her 3 things!

For myself-I went on several walks outside-- 2 during the day when I had free periods and one in the afternoon with EJ.

For others- I taught children with disabilities.

For the world- I turned off lights, kept the water from running.

I'm hoping to do a little better on the 'for the world' part today.

Yesterday I ended up getting a large ice coffee and putting sugar and soymilk in it, when I was out with EJ. It probably wasn't the best idea-- the sugar, but there was no food binge.

I didn't go near the kitchen till 8pm, when one of the roommates was there. We had a GREAT talk about women, eating disorders, life in general. I cooked a TON of veggies, tried a recipe that I had been wanting to try for a long time. When I finally ate dinner, I felt horrible, because I had eaten a TON of cauliflower and my stomach swelled to the size of a basketball, but I was still aching for a treat.

I did something pretty sane. I walked up to 7-11 and got an ice-cream bar. It was real ice cream and it was a high end brand. I took it home (didn't walk and eat), peeled the chocolate coating from it, and ate only the ice cream. Now I must say, I felt like I had enough. I didn't want to eat another thing after that. It had real fat and somehow I think that helped with the satiety.

I was pretty scared that the bar was going to turn me into a whale by this morning.

It didn't.

Averting a crisis?

2008-03-03T13:21:00.000-08:00

I went to work today without taking meds. I was okay till 1:30, till I taught in the classroom next to a team room. Two boxes of cookies and one box of bite size brownies were spotted instantly. The images were burned into my brain. I ignored them until 2:15, when my 4 students started begging for candy. I was subbing and had no candy. I thought of the cookies again. I wanted to see the boxes. I wanted to touch them. I went in to the team room and got four cookies, one for each kid.

But one of the kids didn't want it. I stuck the extra right in my mouth. Well, I had eaten a lemon cookies. I also wanted to try a chocolate chip. One left. Down the hatch. I left the kids alone in the class (even though I was in the attached room) to eat the cookie.

Then the little kid who didnt want the cookie, well she asked for a brownie. So I got her one and I ate a half.

I have never been able to eat sweets in the day and not get upset. Total calorie intake was less than 200 and I was low for the day, but still. I was already feeling bingey.

And then my dad rejected me. I don't have to explain any more than that.

I was off racing home thinking of what I was going to eat. A healthy smoothie? Made of yogurt, soy milk, and strawberries? It came out disgusting because I put green tea powder, liquid saccharin, and coconut extract. Unsatisfied and rejected. I came upstairs and started working on my blog. I had my mind on walnuts. I wanted walnuts. I was waiting it out.

Then EJ called. He did nothing to upset me but I had to go near the kitchen to get my phone and I ran to the walnuts and chomped a handful, then grabbed my turkey breast, ate some of that, and lastly stuck my finger in my roommates lentils.

The stomach hurts. The heart hurts. Its a beautiful day in DC and now I am going to go for a walk with EJ. All I can think about is getting a real baked good somewhere out there in the DC streets.

I have a few afternoons this week with no band practice. It seems like a good thing but that means there are MANY hours between when I get home from work and when I go to bed.

We leave again Friday and of course, I want to lose weight!

My belly feels so full but my heart feels so sad. I am really sick of this nonsense.

I honestly don't know how to deal with food.

I love you guys!

Amalia

Three things to change your life

2008-03-03T06:34:00.000-08:00

I am doing a new before bed journal piece that takes 3 minutes.

I answer the following questions-

1) What have I done for myself today?

2) What have I done for my friends today?

3) What have I done for the world today?

Anyone want to join me? I would love to start posting those responses here.

Love you all!

Amalia

Inconsistent and Overdone

2008-03-02T16:18:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

Please accept my apology for my half-assed inconsistent posts.

My eating disorder persists for several reasons but one huge factor is what I am convinced is a MAJOR case of Attention Deficit Disorder. I can't get anything done unless someone is CRACKING a whip.

I have gone through questionnaires that asked over 90 questions about your life, your history and your day to day experiences. I had 79 present behaviors/symptoms of this disorder. My doctor doesn't want to treat it because he says that in cases where people have eating disorders or depression, it is difficult to tell what is causing what. I try to tell him that I had ADD when I was 4 years old and nobody noticed because I was really smart. I was also a mess. By middle school, I couldn't coast anymore. I had severe depression, an eating disorder, AND ADD. I couldn't pay attention in school to save my life. My grades started slipping and by high school I only had one honors class left.

When I was in my junior year, I met EJ. He loved me for some reason (I had big tits) and sensed my lack of parenting and discipline. His mom began to feed me and he became my dad/boyfriend. He forced me to study and suddenly I was getting A's again. Our relationship was quite dysfunctional for multiple reasons but essentially when he was around, I got good grades. When he wasn't around, I fell apart. At age 25, when we broke up, I was like a child who couldn't take care of herself. But we had already started our band, and his parenting never ended. The fun part was that he was no longer loving.

When I got the gastric bypass, he was not in favor. He told me that it wasn't going to solve 'me'. He believed that the more I messed with things, the worse they would get. Ironically, he was the first person to point out to me, how disturbed my family unit was.

And when I became anorexic, he was still not in favor. He didn't believe me when I insisted that I HAD to count calories. I was a FAT person, and couldn't be trusted to feed myself any other way.

But I needed those systems because of the ADD.

Today was one of those days that blew my mind. Somehow I managed to 'clean' a part of room but it took a day and happened in fits and starts. And you know what I cleaned? I took bunches of clothes and shoes that I couldn't find a place for, or even begin to figure out how to organize, put them in boxes and put them on my porch with a 'free' sign. I don't even know what I gave away. I just had to get rid of at least one pile.

Every day I come up with some new organizational system but by the end of the day, its forgotten and the piles start and I end of gazing at the internet. I don't watch tv at all. Its the internet. I want to shove my computer on a shelf and lock the closet.

And my eating disorder continues because I HATE to cook alone. Planning meals is absolutely horrendous for me. I change my mind 9 times throughout the prep process but I finally throw everything in some cold bowl because I can't pay attention any longer and then I hate my meal. Dissatisfaction and frustration with meals leads to everyone's favorite behavior, boys and girls! The binge! Or at least the sneaking bits of tastes of everyone else's food.

Unless, I am on the salads.

I don't know how to make the ADD better and I don't know how to make the meals better.

Every time I come with an idea to increase my non-existent income, I can't finish it. I just don't do it. And those are just a few of the reasons that I continue to tread water with my head an inch below the surface.

The band is a safety net and a time bomb. EJ is now my evil army captain and keeps me on task by fear and nastiness. I understand his frustration but I now have serious trauma issues associated with our basement practice space. And 90% of the reason he gets frustrated? My inability to focus.

I know I am quite intelligent. I know my brain crosses multiple intelligences. I have talents in writing, art, science, math, photography, music, acting, performing. I have unlimited potential to learn, create, and excel.

I just can't freaking pay attention to what I am doing.

Where am I

2008-03-02T07:17:00.000-08:00

I have been home from tour for almost one week. I leave again Friday morning. The next leg of the tour is March 7 to March 24. On this segment, my band will be playing shows in the southeastern, south central, and Midwest portion of the United States.

The first few days after I got back were rough. There is no other way to describe them. I had some serious depression as I had run out of medication in the middle of the tour and had no cash, no health insurance card, no credit card, and no access to support from anyone at home or my band mates. After day 5 without meds, I was crashing hard. That combined with coming home to a life in shambles (multiple messes to be cleaned and they are still dirty) and not much love, and I was bummed.

I keep fighting the good fight. Even through the rare moments of tears (I tend to be flat, feeding, or restricting), I have been trying to reframe my thoughts, and associate hardships with learning challenges. In all honesty, my massive challenge with life organization, structuring, decision-making, finances, and follow through, does at times feel very insurmountable.

It all starts at home. When I was little, my mom would force me to clean my room and I would sit there crying for hours because I couldn't even fathom how to start. Eventually she would come in and throw everything away because she couldn't tolerate my mess. My response? More tears.

Early in the week, I had a couple of solid days of significant over-eating and night eating. But by Wednesday I was counting those calories, pretty determined to lose a few pounds by Friday for our huge CD release show at one of the main local rock clubs. Every major and minor newspaper in the DC metro area had given us a huge push. Record reviews, photos, and pre-show write ups were abundant-- even in all of the DC entertainment/political blogs. In many ways, it was blowing my mind. With all of that pressure (my own self-imposed pressure) wouldn't it be great if I could just lose a FEW pounds before the show?

I really have no idea if I actually lost weight last week. I probably did lose a few pounds because by Friday my face looked slightly thinner, and my boots zipped easily. My stomach didn't look as massive as I had sensed it had become. None of these were acceptable shapes overall, but the best I could do in two days.

Locking myself in my own room at night might not be the safest measure of eliminating night eating but it does two things for me. It gives me an empty belly in the morning-- not a sick bloated gassy belly. And it also gives me hope for losing weight again.

I want to be that present, effective, happy, positive, optimistic, creative, financially successful person that I believe I can be. I just want it to happen to a smaller person. Can I do two things at once? If I lost 20 pounds, I would be at a healthy for my height, right smack dab in the middle of a healthy weight for my height. And I kind of believe that I could stop there. I do not want to be sidelined with anorexia anymore. I just want to be THINNER! Right guys??

If I had a nutritionist, it might make my efforts more reasonable. I simply can't afford any more appointments. I can't afford any more time with doctors and counselors each week. I honestly don't know how I will be able to pay April bills. I won't have worked for almost a month and you can be damn sure that I won't be making more than a few hundred bucks from the tour at the most. All of the money from the last tour went to a new transmission that was completely burned out by the time we got home. How I made it home safely, I will never know. If the van hit a pothole on the highway, it would simply turn off. My engine shut down multiple times while I was driving 75 mph.

My counselor has begun guiding me toward discussion about the incest that occurred in my early years. She wants to focus on the overall sickness that was occurring my house. And I feel like so far, I simply do not know what to do with this information.

We are going to keep it on the light side till I get back toward April but there are things coming up. I heard a song from 1979 on the radio this week. I had never heard that song before but it triggered some bizarre feelings of a discomfort, deja vu, some weird sense of days in my childhood that were very very wrong.

My therapist has suggested to me that incest that occurs between children is very often a result of a little child who is starving-- physically, mentally, emotionally. It does make sense to me. I was a 'fat kid'-- unacceptable in every way. Not fit for love, food, kindness, or even acceptance from the world at large. When I have tried to explain this to my family they simply think I am being dramatic. Six weeks in a ED hospital, a gastric bypass surgery, thousands of dollars spent on a disease that has almost taken my life multiple times and they think I am being dramatic.

I have never stated anything to them with one ounce of emotion. No tears, no yelling, no threats, no crying. Does that seem dramatic to them? I can not show weakness.

And there in lies the problem. I still connect my authentic self and my feelings with weakness. If the whole Asian culture can exist for thousands of years ignoring sensitivities, feelings, emotional needs, and physical affections, than why must I indulge it? I suppose it is because I want to get better.

I want to be all that I can be. Even if I am weighing the thoughts of taking some kind of laxative right now because of the MASSIVE over consumption of food that has been taking place since Saturday morning 5 am, I know I want to get better. Sometimes I wish I wasn't friends with some of our town's best chefs. I wish we weren't invited to restaurants for celebration dinners. Last night I had a HUGE dinner-- I did not turning off the feeding behavior when I got home. I did not lock my door and was up twice eating bread, rice, ice cream and ice cream cones, chocolates....and none of it belongs to me.

This too shall pass.

Its beautiful outside today. I wish my dad would call and ask me to go on a hike. I wish my brother would call and invite me over to see my niece. I haven't seen her since New Years day. He has his own issues.

I have to go to the bathroom.

Home is where the Fart Is

2008-02-26T06:22:00.000-08:00

We got back from tour part 1 on Sunday night. In conclusion, the shows were great. The press for this record has been phenomenal and the shows were well attended and extremely well recieved. Mission accomplished. Round two starts two weeks from today.

Now, can I lose 30 pounds before March 7? Probably not.

But can I continue to change my brain? Yes.

I went back to work this morning so I am a little sleepy right now. Two nights ago I was going to sleep at 4 am, and this morning I got up at 6 am. I call it the night/day flip and its not cool, UNLESS I say I look forward to the CHALLENGE of getting myself back into the working world!

Its all in the mind, kids. You can say anything, think anything, and it will be so. Its not easy but its worth the struggle.

I will post more directions later.

love,
A

The clouds do part. The sun is always behind them.

2008-02-18T21:43:00.000-08:00

I had a day off today. Yesterday my eating was much more reasonable and I am feeling like things will be okay. If I can resist restricting, I will be great. I thought about what I wrote yesterday, and I have to admit that this tour still is much better than other tours comparatively. It used to be that I would start eating as soon as the show was over (as soon as I could get away from people) and I would eat until morning. I just don't feel like I want to do that anymore. My generalized goal is to be healthy and fit. I want to be healthy and fit so I can feel comfortable in my life and accomplish things OTHER than counting calories and studying the art of creative starvation.

Today was incredibly productive. I wrote six pages of tour diaries for my band blog and caught up on 106 emails that were in the inbox. I did a written interview, had two nice meals with my band, watched a movie, and exercised. I was present about 69% of the day. It is so nice to have night off.

I have continued my reading on changing my brain, my thoughts, and my subsequent behaviors. One of the first suggested ways to do this includes closing your eyes and envisioning your life as how you would wish it to be. Then in the visualization you are supposed to picture yourself as you are now stepping into the you from your perfect world. Visualize it and make it as real as possible. That's the first step in recreating your reality.

Now, if I can resist the urge to focus only on an emaciated body, then I will be on the right track. Today I tried this and I visualized a person that was thinner (not stick like)being financially independent, successful in multiple creative endeavors, living in a home that I felt good about, and having some kind of loving partner. I truly believe that all of these things are in the realm of possibilities. I plan to actualize them.

Anything is possible. Everything is possible. Each hurdle is a learning opportunity. Think of how smart we are.

I am sending out a thick layer of love to everyone!

nuts....this tour is nuts

2008-02-17T22:49:00.000-08:00

Historically, every rock tour has been a nightmare for me with respect to food, eating binging, and gaining weight. Every time I am about to hit the road, I freak out, lose some weight, start to feel good, and vow that this tour will be different! This will be the tour that I eat meals like my bandmates do, and NOT eat food at night in other people's homes.

Our last tour was in October and I did do slightly better. I bought myself some big sweet thing and ate that at night and managed to basically not eat other people's food. It was also the first tour that I did not gain weight. But I did slowly manage to pack on a few more pounds after I got home.

Right before I left, I had 3 days where I successfully locked myself in my bedroom at night (I can explain more about this later), and I was feeling extremely hopeful. But I was also restricting and had a few pounds. It was enough weight to make me feel good about leaving. I started calculating how much weight I could lose by the time we started the next tour.

The first day of tour was a icy and snowy hell drive to upstate New York. Our windsheild wiper blades were not making contact with the windsheild. Our defroster was not working. Our heat in the van was not working. We stopped on several occasions because I literally had no visibility.

I did not reach food to cope with the added stress. In fact, I was still happy with my food choices. But I was also furious that we were doing this stupid tour in the far Northeast and the upper Midwest, in the middle of February. No one listened to me when I said dying wasn't worth it. Everyone thought I was overreacting and being dramatic. They were wrong.

I kept driving through heavy ice and snow all day into the night. I never saw a plow on the Jersey Turnpike. There were salt trucks. That's it. I was basically driving through snow the whole way, going about 35 mph at my top speed. We got to SUNY Purchase around 9:30pm, just in time, to throw our stuff on stage and play.

I went to SUNY Purchase for my freshman year of college. I was assaulted by someone that I was friends with, right before Thanksgiving. I never reported the incident, believing that it was my fault. After that, I was scared for the rest of the school year, and chose to run away to France instead of going back the next fall. By winter I had transferred to the U of MD, but was miserable there as well. My weight ballooned up to 240 pounds there, I believe largely due to taking Zoloft, and becoming more depressed than I ever thought possible. I was also reconnecting with my best friend from high school who was co-dependent, anorexic, and bulimic. I wanted to be her. She died 4 years later.

So back to the tour-- We played and immediately after, the promoter took us to the food court to get dinner. I was terrified suddenly. I knew that if I didn't get something I enjoyed, I would be more inclined to do night eating. I got something that was a compromise but also bought a big cookie. That night I did alright.

The next day, we went back south to Philadelphia for the second show. Things were going well until at 2 am, when we stopped at the 24 hour snack store, on my request, I discovered that my wallet was gone. Everyone thought that I certainly had dropped it in the van but I had not. I wanted to go back to the club but someone said it was closed. I should have gone back and looked around the street in case I had dropped it out there. I didn't return till the next day.

When I went into the Wawa, I was already freaking out because my wallet was gone. On impulse, I bought two sweet things. After we got back to our host's house, we pulled out a carbohydrate fest and I chowed down. I had only eaten protein and veggies all day. It was not a smart move. The carb loading sent me into a major attack of dumping syndrome because of my gastric bypass. I fell asleep on a couch fully clothed, sweating, and exhausted. I woke up at 4:45am, and ran into the kitchen and started eating my snacks. I got up again at 7:45am, and ate food that belonged to the host.

When I got up for good, it was 10:30, and I fully realized that I had eaten ALL of my snacks, AND other people's food. I was devastated, and then I had to deal with the lost wallet. I took that van and drove back to the club on my own. The owner let me in and it wasn't there. It never turned up. I canceled my bank card and my credit cards but it only occurred to me yesterday that I have to cancel checks, my health insurance card, and even my AAA card. After the wallet disappeared, I lost that control. I started making some very poor food decisions. By Thursday, I knew that I had started gaining that weight back. Thursday night was our big Valentine's Day show in NYC. I was so sad that I was 'fat' again. That night was a food fiasco.

Friday morning we went out for brunch with our booking agent and I wasn't sure if I should eat or not since I had been eating all night into the morning. I thought I should just stick to regular meals so I went ahead and ate part of my breakfast. Big mistake. The gas pains were so severe that I couldn't drive. I just prayed that my bandmates would not chastise me for stinking up the van.

Friday night, we played in Boston. We went to a Thai restaurant, and once again, I ate food. I felt that I played terribly that night and my missed notes were ringing in my ears. After that show, I ran upstairs to eat alone. I ate my food and other people's food. When we got back to our friend's house, I slept in the computer room since I just started snoring again.

At 7 in the morning, I snuck down to the parents' kitchen and ate a half a bag of trail mix. At 9:30 am, I woke up just as I started vomiting bile. People with gastric bypasses occasionlly get severe bile reflux when they either overload the pouch, or they eat too much fat. Then if you lay down to go to sleep, the bile seeps back into your digestive tract, and bam! You puke bile.

Bile reflux is horrible. It burns like hell, your nose, your throat. Only two things stop the burning-- drinking an acid, because bile is a base. Diet coke, OJ, coffee, something like that. Additionally, citrucel will take the bile back down to where its supposed to be. But the reflux was so bad that I had inhaled some into my lungs. I ran into the bathroom connected to where the boys were sleeping and coughed and hacked and tried to make the burning stop without the acids.

Ever since then, I have had chills, been dizzy, been wheezing. I wonder if I have pneumonia from the inhalation of bile into my lungs. I can't get any medicine. I have no ID, no money, no health insurance card, no credit cards. My tour lasts for another week.

Today, I decided I would try again, to only eat a 'safe' quantity and type of food.

I did better without eating sugar, that's for sure. And I re-read all of my writing about optimism. I still believe that I can do better.

The last two shows were fantastic. I finally feel like I am kicking ass when we are playing. That's why I do this.

I am inconsistent, For that I am sorry

2008-02-13T15:00:00.000-08:00

Thank you so much to the folks that have written to say hello. I am sorry that I have been posting and commenting inconsistently. My band tour started yesterday and the last 10 days have been totally concentrated preparation.

Last Wednesday I made yet another commitment to my self to work on changing my thinking. Some of the changes that I am attempting are an all around feeling of optimism, looking at problems as challenges that are opportunities to learn something new, making real goals for myself that are present, positive, and believing that I will reach them. I have been reframing questions to myself as well. When doing battle with a destructive food behavior, I have been asking myself questions like, "What can I do right now to achieve my goal of being Healthy, Fit, and Happy? Its so much less self deprecating. I don't know if I will continue these patterns tomorrow but its so helpful in the short term.

Before we left town, I had three good nights without eating. I tightened the screws in my door lock and while my shrink might not approve of my barrier method to prevent night eating, it certainly has contributed to my feelings of hope.

Yesterday, I drove our van through a crazy ice storm and then snow storm from DC to upstate NY. There were lots of stops to clean ice of the windows because I literally had zero visibility. We didn't get to our show till 9:30 pm but we made it, quite exhausted but it was a self confidence booster. I drove the entire trip through snow and ice and no heat and no defrosters. We listened to the Conan The Barbarian Soundtrack for the whole second part. There were simply no plows on the road. I heard today that 95 N was shut down because of an over turned tractor trailer and a 20 car pile up. Thank god we missed that.

The rest of the tour is in the far northeast and upper mid west. I am just going to be careful and voice my safety concerns as they arise.

The biggest success of yesterday was no binge. I bought a cookie to eat during night eating. It worked. I ate it and went back to sleep.

Philly tonight and NYC tomorrow. We are playing a big valentine's day show and I'm pretty sure it will sell out.

true confessions- I lost a few pounds in the two days before we left. I also found a costume that I look great in. It has been a huge confidence booster.

My bass player saw me entering calories on a database and freaked. But I am the type of person that needs some order to my eating. Without it, I have never managed to do okay.

We'll see.

Sending the love in every direction.

Sunday stories

2008-02-03T10:08:00.000-08:00

I haven't read blogs or written for a few days as I've been locked in the basement with my bandmates. But I will tell you that the last fews days have been less damaging with regards to food abuse. My days have been much less filled with ED behaviors and thoughts.

Haley's post a few days really touched me and gave me new motivation to battle every inappropriate thought that crosses my mind. Some days I felt like I wasn't even trying but I do want to get better, so I may as well try. And truly, I control my behaviors. If I don't want to do something, I won't do it. Today, I don't want to be an eating disorder. I want to be a productive, creative, and happy human. I am.

I am going to try to catch up on blog reading later today or this evening while the rest of the world watches the Super Bowl.

Thursday Morning

2008-01-31T05:00:00.000-08:00

For two weeks, I have been abusing my body with excess food. Why? Why? Why? The nights have been bad. When the nights are bad, I stuff the fears during the day. I haven't been doing food logs. I have been downing caloric liquids (milks, soymilks, juices, coffees with cream). I have been eating large quantities of carbohydrate-heavy foods. I have been acting like an ass. On Monday, I weighed myself at practice-- up two pounds from the average that I have been holding for the last several months. Okay- not that terrible. But Monday night was terrible. And Tuesday night, I had my friends over for dinner. I kept eating while I was washing dishes and they were sitting in the dining room. I kept eating when they left. I kept eating after I went to sleep.

Yesterday at school, my first meal was okay(I didn't eat till lunch since I was so full from the night before). I stopped eating when I was full. At 2:30 pm, I had a momentary lull in my classes. My brain shot right to the refrigerator in the team room. I visualized a large left over dessert item that I had seen the day before. I did not sit with that vision. I moved immediately to that room and starting putting pieces of it in my mouth. Now, I only ate the equivalent of one piece, but I ate it standing by the frig in a state of terror.

Then I had band practice. I weighed myself on the drummer's scale. Sometimes I wonder if its better to just weigh and not speculate. The facts are the facts. Well, the facts yesterday were not comforting. I had gained a total of five pounds.

I know its 'BAD' to go sleep at my mother's hosue, but I also knew I needed a night without eating and that was the one place that this need could be actualized. I went over there after she was asleep. There was no binge last night. I had dinner, talked to my dad, and went to bed. I needed the sleep so desperately. I think half of my crazy food actions begin with a sleep-deprived brain.

There was no binge this morning. I had to break the cycle. And I'm not totally freaking out about the weight. Its a wake up call in a way. My behaviors are not cool.

The feelings that could be triggering the behaviors:

Money concerns. Its the end of the month and I have major bills to pay. My substitute teaching salary is always lousy at this time of year because of Christmas break and less teacher absences during January. AND I didn't go two days that I had scheduled work because I was sick the morning from night eating. AND I had made two not so great investments decisions. Bought a mutual fund when it was high and sold when the thing kept dropping and dropping. Then I bought stock on a tip and the thing has only dropped more everyday since then. I picked a great time to start investing. AND I had to buy a bunch of new meds and supplements, and STILL haven't picked up everything that I need.

General fears about tour and being ready and having to wear a costume and being in shitty weather with our crappy van. I am allowing myself run on sentences.

Health issues have been weighing heavily on brain. The bypass has effected so much. The systems just were not meant to operate with the ways that they have been altered.

I have not been exercising, not enough anyway.

And the major underlying theme in all of this is- I see my body is so completely disfigured that I believe myself unlovable and unattractive.

Okay- so there it is. Sometimes I ask myself if I am even trying to resist my urges. Well today I will try.

I think everything is going to be okay. Oddly enough, I feel okay. I am still extremely tired but I plan on sleeping at my mom's tonight. I plan on having a decent food day.

Some of you have been writing some truly wonderful and inspirational messages. I don't say that lightly. You are setting a great example.

Hey, I'm sending out one massive pile of love. Grab some from the air if you need it.

Turned Off Comment Moderation/other stuff

2008-01-29T10:42:00.000-08:00

Hey Crew,

I turned off comment moderation just because I sometimes will be away from the computer for hours and hours. Thanks so much for reading and sending feedback. I listen to everything. Phoenix, I know C is not good for me. I had limited my time with him SEVERLY during the fall and that is going to stay in effect.

I am actually having a group dinner at my house tonight and invited over a boy that has had a crush on me for a long time. He is a truly nice person. He is an artist, and he is a professional. I have been putting up a wall to him for a long time but having B around (my singer), I feel more comfortable and they are friends. Plus, B will cook. No one has to eat my weird food.

Now, for my confessional. Today I visited the flickr account of the boyfriend that I broke up with in Jan 2006. We have not spoken in 1 1/2 years and I never had particularly strong feelings for him. Really, I saw him as irritating only and used to lock me into my bedroom every night (to prevent night eating). This ultimately allowed me to develop anorexia and I was quite ill for most of our relationship.

But I found myself digging back through old photos that he had posted. I found about 20 pictures of myself at a VERY low body weight and all I could think when I saw those photos was, "My how I fucked up. I had everything. I was the tiny person I wanted to be. And I could have eaten normal food and stayed that weight. I didn't have to binge for two years and gain it all back. Why didn't I know that I could've eaten? I was trained by my family and society that I was not worthy of food. Still, couldn't I have just stopped? Anywhere? Somewhere? "

I couldn't help thinking that I looked absolutely adorable. Even though I had osteopenia, genital atrophy, no menstrual cycle (never did start getting a period again)

Oh man. I wonder if there is any hope of me being ever able to lose weight again and be healthy? I don't think I am healthy now. I have too much body fat now. I am back into the 'overweight' scale, though not obese, not yet anyway.

Not good thoughts.

I will evaluate and correct.

I don't know what is going on here

2008-01-29T06:45:00.001-08:00

All day yesterday I was thinking that I would temporarily stop eating sugar and flour and try to lose a little weight before we leave for tour. Its making me sick that I am so heavy now and about to try to look good in a costume and feel like a musician. All is feel is terror at my size and fearful about lack of eating control. My nights have been terrible.

I don't want to wallow in the negatives. But I did manage to avoid sugar and flour for most of the day yesterday. B (my vocalist) and I went back to my house after practice. I was falling asleep only moments before while driving because I had slept so little the night before. B said he was going to chill for a few minutes before starting dinner. I took the opportunity to run into the kitchen to eat salad and tuna before he came down and started cooking. But then I started eating other things and started rationalizing why I was doing it (still not sugar or flour).

Then he came down and started making pancakes. I was offerred some. I couldn't refuse. When someone makes food for me in my kitchen, I kind of melt. Its not something I am used to. Left over from the days of my mom NOT cooking, I have a weakness for being around people cooking, especially comfort foods like pancakes.

I ate two of his and went on to keep eating every few hours till 4:00 am this morning. I was supposed to go to Rite Aid and pick up prescriptions. I did not go. I just found out that I have some MAJOR nutritional deficiencies because of my bypass and I haven't purchased the medications, vitamins, and supplements that my doctor PRESCRIBED. They are expensive, but I am going to charge them. Even though I am trying to stop charging things. Diagnosis- heart murmur, major anemia, major vit d deficiency, two infections on my hands and my mouth from the deficiencies. I am supposed to have an echocardiogram on Friday.

I ALMOST didn't go to work. However, I cancelled on this school last week before of night of binges. And I need the money desperately! So I came here anyway. But I can't find my log in for their computers. And I am using someone else's computer right now, which is illegal. And when I leave this computer, I will feel cut off for the rest of the day.

but I am going to use the day to work on my drawings. I have finally come up with a new series of characters that could be quite cool and profitable if I can get my shit together.

I can get my shit together. I believe. Positive self talk. I can do this. I am going to do this.

I will overcome this.

I believe in all of us.

4 days later..........

2008-01-28T14:15:00.001-08:00

Hey Culdy Crew-

Sorry for the 4 day silence. My singer is in town and we are in the depths of the basement trying to get new compositions ready before our tour. B has been staying at my house and its been a real treat. Nothing is perfect but B and I get along quite well AND he is a great cook. I love having just a little bit of my family close. As much as I tell myself that I am a loner, when B is around, I just feel less alone.

The dinner with C last Thursday night-

We did talk about some things but not to the depths that I wanted to talk. In a way, I almost felt like I had maintained some of boundaries by not revealing EVERYTHING.

We were having a great conversational banter like always. He was truly enjoying watching me try steak and lobster and creme brulee for the first time ever. I was fine with the food and eating. That wasn't a problem. In fact there was a very thin girl at the table next to us and the whole night she was picking at everything and her friends were making light of her eating habits. She was so annoying that I wanted to shove the rice down her throat but I certainly understand. I also understand that everyone heals at their own rate. But this chick was BEAUTIFUL and I sometimes don't understand that beautiful people can suffer to. I also contemplated the idea that maybe she was simply acting withing social norms and expectations for female public eating habits.

But back to C- at one point he was telling me that he wished I would "bust his balls more". And I replied, "why would I? You do your thing, I do mine. I don't need to harass you. I'm not that girl. Harass yourself."

then I reminded him that the one time I did bust his balls (i called him a womanizer in an email when I was just trying to tell him I gave a damn, but I did it so badly, I already told that story, sorry) that it took him weeks to get over.

And I continued, " so what was your damn problem?"

C: I was really frustrated with our relationship (i don't know what kind of frustrated he means)
You were this awesome fun person who was cagey and lying about this weird food issue and the whole picture just wasn't right. It was like an angel with a tail sticking out of your shoulder.

A:that was the eating disorder. It begs you to lie to people and to hide it. It doesn't want you to get well. When I met you, I had every intention of starving myself to death. I NEVER planned to recover. But on that tour in spring 2006, my body had it. It overrode my brain and I began to binge.

I told him about refeeding syndrome and how sick I was. He just listened. The only thing I left out was that he was one of the two triggers that starting the binging. I reiterated that the anorexia started about the same time that I decided my weird gut deemed me unlovable, unfuckable and not worthy of humanity When I finished he said,

C: Things make a lot more sense now. I get it.

But there is no closure because I didn't reveal the one thing I wanted to reveal. And now I am on the fence. He went to NYC to see his girlfriend this weekend because she was about to dump him for some comment he made. He was emailing me and complaining about her behavior. I just said too bad, get over it or get out.

The weekend was not terrible although practice sunday was brutal since I didn't know my parts.

Today I prayed to some higher power to take away my obsession with food. I have too much to do to be ruled by food. I have never really believed in anything beside rock music and love (not really) but today felt desperate. And I figured why not?

I appreciate every thought and comment!!!

2008-01-24T13:48:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to drop a quick post here and say that I truly appreciate ALL of your thoughts, feedback, and comments.

Feel free now, and forever more, to call it like you see it.

I am not sensitive and I will not get sad and hurt feelings.

Rather, I appreciate the folks who say it straight.

I am trying to get an earlier reservation for tonight.

But I hear you guys. I think you are right on the money.

Thanks

The lesson of the day is "Speak Your Feelings".

2008-01-24T09:44:00.000-08:00

I saw my ED pyschiatrist yesterday. Dr. R is a phenomenal physician who is an ED expert and a researcher based out of Johns Hopkins Unversity and their hospital. He is on top of all of the latest research and medication trials. Yesterday we changed my meds to something that has been just published as showing some clinical efficacy in significantly reducing binge episodes in women who fit the diagnostic criteria as either having Bulemia or Binge Eating disorder. The last medication I took was moderately effective in helping me manage binge behaviors, but the side effect of 'cognitive dulling' was more than I could take. I do not need to feel dumber.

Our discussion yesterday centered on my extreme difficulty in articulating my feelings, acknowleding my feelings, and communicating them. Tonight I am having dinner with a friend, and I have been preparing myself to tell him about feelings that I have had for the entire two years that we have known eachother.

I can't tell you how many times I would spend wonderful days, evenings, weekends with this person. Our connection felt special, or level of fun was intense. I felt that there was a HEAVY amount of flirting.

The first two months that I knew this person, C, I will call him C, I was severaly anoretic. We went on several dates and I NEVER made a move. I was so freaked out and shocked that I had crazy, intense, passionate feelings for this person! I had NO idea what to do with this. My anorexic world was designed to keep people, feelings, vulnerabilities far far away. Someone who is hell bent on dying a slow death of starvation is not supposed to be in the market for crushes, dates, and crazy intense feelings.

One night he told me that he wasn't interested in me "that way". I think he was used to having women jump in his pants and my failure to do ANYTHING at all was baffling. I couldn't imagine anyone seeing my bony, and terribly saggy body and be anything but disgusted. He was already getting the idea that I had a MAJOR eating disorder since I wouldn't go ANYWHERE without my food kit--measuring cups, food scales, my own salad dressing, and my calorie guidebooks. The name "Crazy Pants" sticks out in my mind and I wasn't in denial, I just had no intention of gaining weight. EVER.

The night before I was about to leave on a six week tour, I ended up in his bed. We didn't do anything except spoon but it was more than I could handle. I jumped up and left in the middle of the night. "Didn't he already reject me?" I thought. What was I doing in his bed then?

Well, one week into tour, and I am already bingeing every night after shows, like I had always done. I always gained a couple of pounds and tour and lost it immediately when I got home. As soon as we hit Texas, the shit hit the fan.

I got another word from C that he was still not interested. I pretended that it was okay. I wanted to be friends. It wasn't okay, I felt horrible. And the next day, I found out that my baby brother was a heroin-addicted ex-drug dealing mentally-ill junkie, and my parents had no idea what to do.

It was more than I could take. The body overrode the brain, and the re-feeding binges started. I thought I was dying. It was classic re-feeding but without any medical attention and know idea what was happening. C came to the West Coast to see me while we were on tour. I couldn't tell him how sick I was, or why I had fallen apart.

When I finally got home in mid-July, I had only gained 6 pounds, but I thought I had destroyed my life and I had lost everything. The next year and a half were binges in response to the anorexia, and to the constant terror that I had gained more weight. The cycle of madness--fear about gaining weight, and bingeing in terror to stuff down the pain.

In the fall of '06, we went on tour again. I tried to email C and tell him I was having feelings for him and the email SUCKED. I called him a womanizer and never told him what was going on for real. He didn't want to hear it anyway. When I finally got home from that tour in Nov '06, he and I sat down and he said maybe we shouldn't be friends if you have these feelings, and I said, "No, I don't have the feelings." I also said that maybe we had run the course of our friendship, and I could accept that. We parted in a very akward, "see ya" kind of way. He sent me a text message an hour later and came running to the art gallery where I was going to be that night. We have hung out non-stop since then. I know he has had girlfriends the whole time. I was never introduced to any of them. He never mentioned their names. I was the fun friend. We drank together, we camped together, we sailed and canoed together.

There are very few "celebrities" in DC. I am no means a celebrity by standard definition, but when you hang out with me, there are perks. I get into all of the shows for free. I get free drinks. I get invited to fancy art parties, and dinners, and receptions. This is because of my place in my band, but I secretly thought he liked hanging out with the MINOR dc music celebrities.

Last August, we went camping. It was the most intense weekend we have had together. We had so much fun it was ridiculous. The next weekend, my bass player, E, was having an art opening at a gallery. C brought a girl. My friends freaked. I felt so low and so shitty, but I never said anything. He knew that my friends were pissed and he didn't come out with us afterward. I also stopped calling him for almost two months. I was just done. I couldn't take it anymore.

Keep in mind that everytime I said goodnight or goodbye to this person, I was eating recklessly within 30 minutes. I am getting better at communicating my feelings in some cases. It feels so gross, but the objective is to not stuff those feelings with anything.

We have hung out maybe 4 times since Gallery Meltdown in September. He was away. I was away.

Tonight he is taking me out for a fancy dinner. He now, finally, has a serious girlfriend. I heard about it through the grapevine and I asked about her last week. They have only been dating a few months. They met during my period of silence. Well, that hurts too.

So our reservation is for 10:00pm tonight. Would it make more sense to tell him everything in an email? Its easier for me to write than to speak. I am much less likely to hold back.
What is the point is telling him everything now? I think because I matter. I existed that whole time, and I pretended that I didn't matter. I pretended that my feelings didn't exist.

I don't want to ruin our dinner. I wish we weren't eating at 10pm on a Thursday night when I have to be at work on Friday morning at 7:45 am. I get stressed just knowing that I might have less opportunity for sleeping. But I put my feelings aside when I agreed to this ridiculously late meal. Its a hard restaurant to get into and its restaurant week in DC. Everything is overbooked.
I don't care if we ever go to this place. He probabaly doesn't care either although is was his suggestion.

Well, I guess I be writing about it later.

I could whine, instead I'll make plans

2008-01-23T09:58:00.000-08:00

Thanks to everyone who has been communicating lately. I appreciate it and love you guys tremendously. This comes from my heart.

Its a bright sunny day here in DC, and I did not go to work. I had a high paying substitute teaching job today. I woke up at 6am after having very lately sleep, dragged my butt to the kitchen to start baking a weird breakfast loaf, and began flirting with the idea of going back to sleep. I was not ill, I was just exhausted, from another night of being awake and eating far more times than necessary.
My fears- going to a school that I don't usually go to, and that I have gained more weight. The binge feelings started as soon as I got up. They come from fear! They come from anxiety! I left a message at the school office and went back to bed.

Depression. Fear. Hopelessness. I have to acknowledge them or else I will stuff them back in my mouth and down my throat.

I am going to see my psychiatrist in Baltimore today (Johns Hopkins Hospital, where I was an in-patient last year at this time. There is a medication that we have been talking about trying and I am about ready to ask for it. I suddenly have major concerns that my insurance won't pay for it. Yesterday I went to pick up a stomach medication and found my insurance had rejected payment. I left the $200 purple pills at the counter and went home with a stomach ache. Parsley-- parsley helps with reflux.

I need to be working. My days available to make money are shrinking as tour draws near.
I have not actively sought free lance work in quite some time but I am thinking its time to set up a website and start advertising. I tutor. I write resumes. I do illustration. I almost never advertise. Its time to prioritize and get my shit together.

What if today happens to be the day that I weigh my HIGHEST post anorexia weight? What if? It could be. Am I going to die? Not because of that weight. In fact, the more terror I feel, the more I eat to mask, and the more weight I gain. I have been doing this off and on for almost 2 years now. Its time to quiet the mind and quiet the fear. When I love myself, when I acknowledge my feelings, my humanity, my needs, then I can take care of myself. Over-eating and under-eating are self abuse. Haven't I had enough abuse?

Haven't we all had enough abuse?

lost a day to food

2008-01-22T16:34:00.001-08:00

Easy come, easy go.

I stopped taking one of my medications last week. I ran out of it and I haven't gone to pick up the new scrip. This medication is specifically to reduce binges, and I think it does help. The major side effect though, is cognitive dulling, and this week, I couldn't take cognitive dulling. The band is writing songs and getting ready for a tour, and I need to be sharp. And sharp Amalia is a tense Amalia. Tense Amalia binges, or gets impulsive around food, gets upset, and then continues eating. Impulsive Amalia almost never ever restricts anymore.

Today was one of those days.

I can write out the details but I am not sure if that will help. I still feel like I could go down at any moment and start again. My stomach is killing me since the post-op gastric bypass belly simply cannot handle volume and many types of food.

Do I go out and try to burn off the calories? Do I not eat for the rest of the day? Do I ask myself what is really wrong? What was I feeling that prompted my behavior?

I was at the school where I substitute teach. The kids were not there today since the teachers had to do report card prep. I was already feeling that I had gained weight again. This has been the root fear that has caused SO MANY BINGES AND SO MUCH WEIGHT GAIN.

I had just seen my mother. She teaches there, too. Its the most disturbing thing-- this woman who I despise and shouldnt even associate with, works at the same school as me.

But my mother had just started harassing me about something. I went straight to the cafeteria. The teachers had a pot luck lunch today. Everybody brought food.

Lo and behold, the entire room was empty. I shoved a dessert into my mouth. Then I grabbed something else. I didn't even try to stop. Whenever I get in situations where there is food that I don't usually have around me....I grabbed a bowl of chili and started eating a little bit of that, thinking the meat would stop the binge. Or I would just stop. I grabbed a little more dessert food, stuck it in a cup and ran for my car.

Now I chewed a little more and spit some out. Calorically, it could have been so much worse. But then I was devastated. Here we go again! And I had a dentist appointment today. Well I promptly canceled it because I hadn't yet paid off my bill from the last time I was there. That was stressing me out, too.

And I just saw all of those spring tour dates lined up together. LOTS of shows. Lots of time away from money-making employment. I thought I was doing a great job at practice the last few days, and then the bass player, E, calls me and harasses me because he was listening to all the new songs and my parts are very messy still.

And my phone keeps ringing and ringing and ringing.

There was a guy who wanted a second date...change of subject...and I wasn't interested. Well, I emailed him and told him I wasn't interested. He has left me two message requesting that I call him. I don't need to discuss why I don't want to go out again. That was stressing me out, too.
He is a big shot real estate developer in DC and I am guessing he isn't used to people not responding to him. He has probably never hung out with a chick with an ED. No response available, my dear.

One last thing, there are two very strange rough patches of scaly skin on my right hand. They have been there for a few months now. I thought it was dry skin from the weather but I now realize, they should have healed back in November. I use lotion. I need to go to get them checked out. They certainly look like pre-cancerous lesions, or squamos cell carcinomas.

I wasn't sure when I started writing this post if I was going to start whining, but I think now that this is an okay place to vent. The purpose of this writing process was to deal with my feelings and these are my feelings. Stress about money. Stress about my health. Stress about my binges. Stress about the shitty relationships. I am working on all of these things. They have not gone unnoticed. Today, I let them get the best of me.

Now, how bout that exercise???

Haha. Its not funny but a girl's got crack a joke every now and then.

Peace.

Love.

Struck with how AWESOME this group is

2008-01-21T22:16:00.000-08:00

I read some amazing posts tonight from the crew. I now know that some of you refer to this crew as the culdy. I have a habit of referring to groups of people that I care for as "crew". But what I wanted to say is that right now, I am struck by how amazing ALL of you are.

Every post I read tonight was from a person who is deeply caring of those around her. Every post I read tonight expressed some kind of love for others. And every post I read had a truly insightful and interesting idea about the ED, and the idea that we all have hope.

We do all have hope.

Sometimes we are slammed with ugliness from the outside world and there is nothing we can do about it. Tonight, I do not feel like slamming myself with even greater ugliness.

I think I am going to read a book and go to bed.

That seems pretty damn close to normal. I'll pretend until I am. For now.

Feeling GOOD! WAHOO!

2008-01-20T09:49:00.000-08:00

Whenever I am excited about anything, I will write the word, "wahoo" as my exclamation of joy. This can be used in email, text message, story, blog update, or letter. And right now, on Sunday morning, I am feeling pretty good.

Three things are the source of this feeling of goodness.

1) I am in the midst of learning several new skills. I am actively seeking opportunities to learn how to DJ, mix records, mix beats, the whole thing. I am also suddenly into music again, as a result of this quest.

2) I am practicing music on my own and my brain seems to be remembering song structures and parts more efficiently. I believe that the idea of 'muscle memory' is critical to musicianship just as much as it is to any sport one might practice. Athletes study the notion of muscle memory to improve their playing, running, jumping, kicking, whatever the verb may be. Musicians do it, too.

3) I am getting some excellent reviews in the Washington Post, and the local art blogs for my piece. I knew the song/video was funny, arty, entertaining. It still feels good to have the public acknowledgment.

4) I moved my blog. I feel so much freer now. I can write anything without worrying about family, friends, and fans finding about things about me that are not their concern. In a way, I used to really want to be able to write about the eating disorder in the band blog, and someday I might. But for the moment, separation of the two worlds will be just fine.

5) I had a fantastic phone session with my ED counselor last Thursday. It was probably the most enlightening session we have had yet, and maybe the most enlightening session I have EVER had with any therapist. I am 34, and have been seeing shrinks since I was 19.

6) I have not weighed myself in a few weeks. I think I might be okay with this.

7) I have been trying to have a balance of healthy meals and some really indulgent foods that I enjoy, every day. This, for the moment, seems to reduce some of my crazy sugar cravings. Maybe its only temporary. I know its only temporary. Everything is temporary.

I have NOT had any decent workouts lately. I have opted to do other activities, over working out. I have put art, music, laundry, and food prep in front of exercise recently. I know I will re-evaluate and try to kick up the exercise again, but for right now, I am doing the best I can.

Busy, busy, busy! Must stay busy, and engaged, and stimulated with new learning, new activities, new challenges.

lots of love,
Amalia

Jan 2008, up to now

2008-01-19T18:35:00.000-08:00

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Another departure from Eating Disorders

I have lived a lifetime of abuse and eating disorders and now I am writing a blog to help me connect with others who have gone through similar traumas are trying to begin to leave certain lifestyles behind. I want to be a part of the community of support. Writing for me has always been an invaluable tool of self expression, perhaps, the only one that goes unmoderated. Please write and say hello!

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

trying to find a way

I know I haven't gone private yet. I have been leaving the house at 6:55 am and getting home around 8 pm. That schedule has left little time to cook, exercise, bathe, write, or figure out which of those activities is most essential. And I certainly haven't done any art this week or learned any new computer applications.

The night eating has been horrible. My sleep has been horrible. I have been laying in bed and feeling tired. Suddenly I am aware that my heart is racing and I bolt out of my room and down to the kitchen. This has been happening 3 or 4 times a night. I feel like I am hardly sleeping. Last night, out of pure necessity of survival, I went to my parents' house. I felt I had no choice. Sleep deprivation by itself makes one feel crazy and I was entering that realm.

My doctor told me last week that he is not thrilled with my medication regimen and has some ideas for things we could try. I am probably willing to give them a roll. I know what we are doing now is not working. I know what I am doing now is not working.

Am I not TRYING hard enough? Am I not believing that I can stay in bed?Am I not fighting the binge or some hidden dark secret that I am trying to avoid by bingeing all night? I don't believe there is some weird secret. I feel like I know all of the hideous things that happened in my childhood. And once again I am stuck in the loop of

now I don't know how to make this better

to be cont....

Sunday, January 13, 2008

I'm going to probably have to go anonymous

Hey Super Crew,

I am either going to have to go invite only or move this blog completely.

The reason is that I am starting to post to my band blog again and I have them both under the same account.

The name Amalia pops up for both.

I didn't realize until last night that I am a public person, but I am.

I was watching people watch my movie and over and over, people were telling folks about the song. When asking about authorship, it was pointed out that the artist was "the girl from the band the ******"

And I heard, "Oh! I love that band the *"

People would tell people about our show, our history, and it freaked me out.

Please email me or send me your email if you want an invite because I don't want to lose track of you guys.

No fancy titles here...

The opening was last night. I was working right up until I left the house-- printing DVD inserts, running out to the suburbs to gather DVD's from my drummer, and putting printing lyric sheets in case people wanted to sing along with the song.

At 5pm, I had one hour to show, dress, go to Kinko's, and get my ass to the gallery, for the early crowd of show goers. I sat on my bedroom floor, exhausted, and started reading, "The Weightloss Diaries," by Courtney Rubin. I was so physically exhausted.

At 5:30pm, I looked at the clock again. Now officially late, I had to move. My stomach was killing me from some earlier poor judgment. But I was showered, got pretty, and went to the show.

The gallery is in a building with 5 other galleries. People REALLY come to openings. In fact, there are moments when it gets so packed, you can't breathe. Anytime you offer free booze and a chance to look cultured and cool in a town that prides itself on cultured, then hot damn, expect a smashed crowd. Tonight would be no different.

And if you are in the one person out of many that has a sense of humor, you will be admired. Additionally, if you are a sort of 'somebody' (music person/one who plays in a band that people know/that band tours, leaves town, gets press) then people will get really excited about your piece.

It was just a funny little song, a funny little movie. People did go ape shit over it and it felt good.

Afterward, the masses were going to an after party at a bar and restaurant where the owners often take care of us. I was hungry for healthy food. I went to Whole Foods with my little crew. We actually went back to E&J's house in my neighborhood (my bandmate and his girlfriend's house). My OTHER ex-boyfriend was with us. That was a good thing. I held his hand and hugged him a lot. I often have a need for physical contact that I RARELY get met. But he will indulge that on the most surface level.

Now, I ate some Christmas cookies in a non-bingey way.

At 12:45 am I came home. I was about to start eating popcorn, and cookies that belong to my roommate. Then I got another phone call. It was from 'C'. I was in love with 'C' for two years. He is an economist with the department of treasury and is about to go to medical school even though he is 35 years old. He was my best friend and was the jerk that made me start feeling things, enough to break out the of the isolation and numbness of anorexia. But I never told him how I really felt because I knew it would never happen. He looks like George Clooney but he's hotter. He is truly kind. He is brilliant. He is fun as shit. He is NOT in my circle of friends.

He just got back from medical school interviews at U of Michigan. Wanted to know if we were still partying. I said no. We talked for a while. He wanted to make plans for brunch.

I can almost NEVER make plans in the morning because I have gas-- sick, horrible, obnoxious, socially unacceptable gas because of the night eating. I said I would call in the morning.

I did some night eating. Bread, some oatmeal, another cookie, a few pieces of popcorn.

I don't know why-- I don't have gas. But I am not hungry either. And honestly, I should do prep work for band practice. So that is what I am going to do know.

The art show is over. And I promised my crazy fucking abusive band mate that I would do my best to focus on music now. I would do my best to compensate for my feeble brain (that isn't feeble, it just doesn't have the strongest instantaneous auditory memory for new pieces of song parts that are strong together in random formations) if he would try to stop screaming at me and calling me names.

I am willing, this morning, to review some song parts, and to try to focus on pre-practice, so I should stop writing in this blog now.

Hope you guys are okay today.

Friday, January 11, 2008

This might seem like a little thing...

Last night as I was laying in my bed trying to fall asleep, I kept asking myself, "Why does this feel so wrong? What feels wrong?"

Well, there were two factors that suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. I was cold and had a light little blanket.

We keep the temperature in my house very low because the house is absolutely huge and it costs a fortune to heat. It is four stories and has ten foot ceilings. I went downstairs and found heavy blankets.

I slept through the night. I woke up at 5 am. I asked myself if I was even hungry yet. I was not. I had overeaten at dinner, and then eaten 3 cookies for dessert. But this was the amount of food I needed to hold me till morning. I physically felt secure and I had enough food.

Mind blowing.

If I can do something once, I can do it again. I have art shows tonight, and a fancy dinner after. The food will be rich and it could upset me. I am friendly with a few DC restaurant owners and sometimes, get invited to a post gallery opening artist dinner. Its one of those things that I feel like I should go to, simply because its a $100 meal for free. But the food is VERY heavy.

Could I eat mindfully? Could I not eat to excess? Anything is possible.

I feel pretty good right now. I almost want to try. I don't want to miss my friends to be alone. That could be a set up, too.

I also have MY art opening tomorrow night, and I'm not done with my project, now that the curators have asked me to do extra drawings to try to sell with my DVD's.

Man, oh man.

I'm sure everything will be fine. I haven't died yet.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

its not that I believe in metaphors

I saw the Eating Disorder Counselor today-- the young one, who used to have anorexia as well. I do like her quite a bit as I have mentioned before.

She does often bring up metaphors in connection to my conscious and unconscious behaviors and until today, I didn't quite agree. As always, I am saddened and physically distressed over the night eating. The question she asked me as I was leaving was this-

"I wonder if there is something that you have labeled "bad" (done to you, you have done, in your past...blah blah blah) and you have locked it so far away, that you use food to punish yourself every night. But the food as punishment is much more of a HUGE distraction from whatever is TRULY TRULY the thing you have stuffed down down down and labeled bad bad bad".

On one level, I always think the shrinks or counselors are alluded to sexual abuse. I already know. I was abused as a 5 year old, and then I became the abuser. Its not hidden, its not stuffed.

But I did have some sort of minor epiphany today, partially while I was in her office, and partially after I left her office.

My bandmate/my friend/E/the jerk/bff, well, we dated from age 15 to 25, and the band had already started. We broke up? Yes. Did we really break up? I can't leave that band because if I do, I lose him-- my only family that I don't associate with sexual deviance. And even if he is an asshole, I picked him, and he is still better than no family at all.

But the part that I have been stuffing. Could it be that maybe I want to grow up? Maybe I want to be an adult?

I have so many issues because of my income. I have so many issues because I have no job security, I live in a group house, I am some weird child-woman, I can't even have a real job as long as I have this band. I can't really get any other life going. Tour- 10 days in Feb, 3 weeks in March, most of April, record in May or June....it never ends. I stay a child because I am always in awe of people that can afford to buy food.

Half of my night eating is stealing roommate food that I wish I could buy. Some things are clicking. Maybe.

I get so choked up when I think about NOT being with my band...J and E, and the most recent member, B. There is also a whole family of musicians all over the country, that's my family, too.

E and I broke up in 2000, but we never spent more than a few days apart. We live across the street from each other. His girlfriend and I decided to become friends long ago since we both knew neither one of us were going anywhere. Its come to my attention that most of the music/art community in DC thinks we are some weird twins, and I want it that way! I want his identity to be my identity. I always hated my own identity. I always wanted to be him. I always wanted a non-emotional Asian mom that stockpiled food and cooked for me and supported me through thick and thin and paid for me to go to art school and paid my small bills while I still played music, even though I had hit 35.

I think I first became aware of the night eating more intensely, right when we started touring-- strange coincidence, that I quit my job. I was terrified about how I was going to take care of myself month to month. Apparently severe stress is one of the triggers.

But, I STILL LOVE MY MUSIC! So I don't have an answer, but I feel like I am making some progress. I am definitely going to keep journaling on this one.

Thanks beautiful family. You guys are real family, too. Very real.

Rotten meat

I have been doing a crappy job of reading everyone's posts. I have been doing a crappy job of writing.

I have actually been really busy doing MOSTLY good things.

The music video that I was making for the art show that opens this Saturday is finished. Its great. The gallery owner asked me to write out my artist resume and music discography for potential buyers. Then she asked me to burn DVD's and make a limited edition art/print of the DVD to sell for a substantial amount of money. So I have another significant undertaking that must be done before Saturday. But this is the type of activity that takes me away from the eating disorder. So I'm doing it.

I also managed to write a proprosal for another art show that came out of nowhere this week. I worked in a technology medium that is relatively new to me. Learning new technology makes me feel truly empowered. I even started doing some html tutorials. There is hope. There is hope. There is hope.

For now, I'm stuffing the bad. I'll write about it later. I want to savor something good for a few minutes. The weather in DC has been amazing and I have managed to take some very long walks most days this week.

If I could stop eating at night, and get my bandmate to stop verbally abusing me, everything would be super duper.

I will be busy as hell till Sunday because of the rush to do this print edition..but I'm still thinking of everyone.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

darks and lights

I am one of those people who does not do two separate loads of laundry.

However, for some reason, this last week, I got quite depressed. Not for some reason. Because I suspected that I had gotten to my highest weight in 4 years, whatever that means, from eating past the point of comfort over and over and over again. I started to think, like I had thought many times before, that I was never going to beat the night eating, that I was never going to make peace with my body, the food, the mirror, the scale, the closet, and the empty heart.

Today doesn't feel that bad. Yesterday was an okay food day. I have had three moderate days of exercise. Maybe the world hasn't come to an end.

I know I haven't let anyone down.

I know you guys are all still out there. Everyone has there good days and their bad days. I just didn't want to contribute to an already rough period. Now I think that I should have just posted and gotten the crazy thoughts out of my head on onto the blog. That was the point of this thing-- to get out of head.

OUT! I am out.

Love you guys.

DEC 2007 Posts, going backwards in time

2008-01-19T18:28:00.001-08:00

Came out of the gates like a stallion with ass on FIRE

When I started this blog a few weeks ago, I found myself thinking that I would only write on topics that were positive and hopeful. My rationale was that all of us had already experienced every burning devil in hell. Our hells may have had subtle variations, but you didn't need to hear about one more-- mine. We know our devils. I know your devils, you know my devils. But after two weeks of having the special and unique communication forum, I see that this forum is much different than I'd imagined. Its much better than I'd ever imagined.

I can use it to psych myself up. I can use it to vent. I can talk to all of you and get feedback. I can simply offer ideas. And two weeks ago, before the holidays started, I was at a slightly different place on the mountain/valley/storm/calm that is working with your life to stay in your life.

During the holidays, I only took a tiny hiatus. The belly is only a little bigger, it might actually be the same. I think its been this size before, many times. In fact, the whole body has been almost two times this size, and still I survived and people loved me. I didn't love me. I honestly hope to never be that morbidly obese large size again. I was so physically and emotionally miserable at that size. But I was also mentally useless when I was half of my current size, BMI starvation level. You can't win. Or you just do the radical thing and like yourself, at any size. This one is hard. I want to be this person. Sometimes I can do it. Breathe, dammit, breathe!

Change of subject.

I have known for two years that I am supposed to do a piece for a group art show that is supposed to be celebrating the life of a local art hero, a DC guy--P.B.--who is still living. The show is supposed to go up in two weeks. The curator asked me to be in the show TWO years ago. I do portraits, comic books, large wacky free standing mixed media pieces, illustrations. A few years back I did an art show of Richard Pryor heads emerged in jello, that's just to give an idea of my art crap.

Well, for some reason, the curator asked me to write a song about the DC art hero. I know why she asked me to write a song for the show. She asked me to write a song because she assumed that because I was in a band, I was a songwriter. I didn't want to write a song about the guy. I don't really do singer/songwriter crap. But I used to never say no to people. I would never tell them what I really wanted. I wanted to do his portrait. I agreed to write a song for him.

For two years, I thought of excuses of how I was going to tell the curator, and then the gallery that I wasn't going to do the show. I had been canceling on plenty of other galleries. I was supposed to be in a show last spring. Cancelled. There was a gallery that was waiting for portraits that I was supposedly doing of other patients while I was hospitalized for the ED. I came out with 2. Cancelled. Over the summer, I was asked to be in 2 MAJOR shows for the fall, in fact, I was asked by a very serious gallery, if I could come up with ONE series of work, so they could freakin' REPRESENT me. No. I couldn't. I sat in my room a lot. I binged, or exercised, or weighed food, read the book, "Wasted," by Marya Hornbacher. It's a great book but I have read it about 20 times, and I think I have gotten about as much information from it as I need. I just couldn't get an idea in my head. I couldn't focus.

Oh yeah, so, anyway, I had to come up with one small piece for this show. I finally did do a series of drawings a few weeks ago that got shown at Art Basel, an international art fair in Miami. None of them sold, but having them go down there but enough to give me some confidence again, and a purpose.

But this stupid song. My band has been making videos-- really cool videos.

Oh my god, I am all over the place today. So, I showed up at practice having only written lyrics, bad lyrics to this supposed song that they were going to help me with. I had no music, no images, no story board, no sequence of events. Let me tell you, I was not popular.

My bandmate- E- trashed the lyrics. They were stupid, he was right. They were not funny. I had to even re-write those.

And I wrote the music on the spot. Thank god I have been listening to and playing musical theater piano garbage since I was 5. That's one thing eating disorders have not robbed me of.

Well, it came together. J., the drummer, recorded the music. I sang the dumb song. We pitched shifted it. Then he filmed me in my creepy stage costume that I use with my band, and he will finish it by editing my drawings, and turning it into a video.

Luckily, I have been winging it all of my life. But its a shame! If I had one ounce of concentration, I wonder what I could really do. I whine all the time that my band mates are cruel and abusive to me but Jesus, when have I ever showed up to practice, prepared?

Not too many times. My shrink tells me that I do not have Attention Deficit Disorder. He tells me that my issue is more of an executive function concern. There are plenty of compensatory strategies. I make systems all the time, start them, go crazy, lose them, forget them, and start over. Its part of the problem with the ED, and managing it. Anything that requires balance and follow-through.

The one thing that I truly believe, the one thing that I have read study after study- meditation changes your brain function. It heals your brain. I am not talking about yogi sitting on flying carpet chanting to baboo meditation. I just know that regular meditation decreases the negative effects of stress, mild depression and anxiety. I know when I do it with ANY regularity I am calmer and happier. Calmer means less binges. Slowing down means less binges. I can do it with a tape. I can do it with a CD. There are tons of guided meditations on YouTube, free things all over the internet. You guys have heard it all before.

Change is a bitch. Its possible, though. Anything is possible. I told myself I was going to start keeping a food log again for sixty days. This food log has no weights, measures, or opinions. It just lists foods, and whether or not I was eating mindfully. I have done it for 8 days. That is progress.

Anyway, I hope everyone is okay.

Any of you guys live on the east coast? DC metro area?

lots of love,
Amalia

Friday, December 28, 2007

All about my brother

The brain swirls with thoughts when one spends too much time alone. Even when I am with people, I have to constantly remind myself to focus on the topic that we might be sharing at the time. Given one inch of freedom, I quickly slip into the old train of 'rotten talk'. We all know what it is. I don't have to repeat it.

I know its particularly intense right now for me, for the same reasons it is for everyone else. I haven't gone to work in a week. I have been to way too many parties. I have been eating way too much sugar. My family is crazy and too close for comfort. It hurts.

I have a brother, B. In my first post, I wrote about him a little bit. My baby brother is 13 years younger than me. He entered kindergarten the year I began college. I remember when my parents began telling me they wanted a third baby (I have another brother, R., 3 years younger, normal, married, with child). I told my parents they were crazy. I told them that by the time my brother and I were off to college they would need to relax a little, not deal with many more years of child rearing.

My mother is the type of person that loves things. She loves to collect things. She wants to have her stuff everywhere. She bought hundreds of beanie babies during the beanie craze. She has a huge bizarre collection of salt 'n pepper shakers that are dogs. She has also had so many pets over the years, I can't even keep track of all the animals that I loved that died.

I don't have pets. No thanks.

She went ahead and had the baby. And I raised him, till I went away to college. I probably didn't do such a great job as I was a very depressed, very eating disordered teenager. But my mom should have been the lead parent. We were not poor people. My parents were both college educated, gainfully employed, and living in one of the wealthiest regions of the country. Actually, given these facts, its not surprising that she had no interest in the baby, REAL interest, after he was born.

None of us were given any real behavioral expectations, limits, boundaries, consequences. Nothing. My baby brother showed real signs of having some true personality disorders/issues with authority in pre-school. One warm spring day, he simply told his sweet teacher to fuck off when he was told to put his crayons away. My parents didn't do anything. This was the beginning of my brother demonstrating that he had absolutely no respect for authority. I suspect that brother R. was physically abusive to him. B. tells me that this was the case. He certainly shows all the signs of it. But where were my parents?

Both of my brothers had learning disabilities. They struggled in school. My mom was/is a teacher. She knew the workings of the educational system. I don't understand why they didn't get services. I now have a masters degree in special education. I went to one meeting for my youngest brother and had a better sense of what was going on than she ever did. But that was before he dropped out.

I think he started using drugs when he was ten. That's what he tells us now. He got in trouble all the time. Fighting, stealing, damaging property, arguing with teachers. For some reason, my mom the educator, encouraged him to drop out of school at the end of his junior year. Somehow she thought that getting a GED would be easier. Now I see that it would have been easier for her to deal with less phone calls and emails from his teachers and school administrators.

That summer after he dropped out, he asked me to drive him to his first job interview. The job was around the beltway and he didn't know how to get to the place. He was going to be selling stereo speakers out of the back of a van. He got the job but it was the sketchiest arrangement that I ever heard of. He and another kid would essentially drive around in a van all day, to parking lots, and try to sell speakers to random people leaving or entering stores. He would come home late at night with wads of cash in his hands and tell me about people that tried to rob him at knife point. However, he never gave up money to would be robbers. My brother had no fear. He was big and he won every battle. He adored me but I suspected he was a sociopath.

This is about the time I developed anorexia. I had been a lifelong binge eater, part time bulimic, pill popper, gastric bypass survivor, compulsive exerciser, but this is when my brain checked out. I don't have a clue what happened with my brother from the speaker job till the day I found out he was a heroin-shooting junkie, 4 years later.

The news put me over the edge. Since finding out, nothing has been the same. He tried to get clean on his own, lied, lied, lied, stole, and did tons of drugs the whole time. He has some severe mental illnesses and he is also a very large person. He has been terrorizing my parents for months but at this point, they have allowed/enabled him and chosen to let him stay with them. He has been kicked out of multiple rehab facilities. He has cost them thousands and thousands of dollars.

A few weeks ago, he was arrested for shoplifting and assault. The assault charge had a potential 25 year sentence. I begged my parents to leave him in prison. I begged them to let him finally have a consequence for his actions. My dad was ready to finally listen to me. My mom brought him home.

I went to see him the night she brought him home from jail. He was absolutely a mess. I had never seen him so scared, terrorized, and finally afraid of authority.

"Mimi, I can't believe you told mom to leave me in jail." (they call me mimi at home)

"I did. When you steal, you go to jail. You needed to know that. You can't break the law and come home and live with mommy and daddy."

"That was the most fucked up place I have ever been. Mimi, I will die in jail. I will never survive hard time. If I have to go for a few months for theft, I'll do it, but I'll never ever make it for the assault charge." (he didn't actually assault anyone, he tried to run after the security guard try to stop him from shoplifting)

I had never seen him reduced to such a pathetic little boy. The things I have seen over the last year and a half, I never in my life thought I would see, and certainly not in connection to my baby brother. Heroin addiction and mental illness are highly disturbing events. So many times, I have tried to convince myself that my brother is a hopeless piece of shit. I have tried to convince myself that he is so crazy that he is only going to be either on the street, in a state hospital, in jail, or dead.

But then in moments of emotion, when I let myself be human again, I think of my adorable little baby brother, and even think of him as an adult. This human has two very special and very unique talents. He is an amazing cook. He is also an amazing guitar player. But I don't know if he could function amongst the functional. I love him. I miss him. I mourn him. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad. I wish I could save him. I wish I could protect him. I wish I had been there. And I wish I didn't hate my mom. But I do. I know that its going to aid/assist my recovery to harbor such feelings of hatred. However, the point of this post was to express my grief surrounding my brother.

I have been eating like crap since 7:30 pm, off and on, and the tummy aches. So I figured it best to check in with old self here to investigate what feelings I may be trying to stuff.

I hate mummy. I am sad about my brother.

Love you guys, Hope everyone is okay,

Amalia

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Brains Make Thoughts, Not Cash

Its come to my attention that its quite common for people with eating disorders to do things to an extreme degree. Even as I am trying to pull away from the disease, the propensity to extremism is still quite strong. And its no different when I can convince myself that I am doing something for the purpose of recovering-- anything that I overdo can be harmful. For example, my recent interest in gaining control and reversing my credit card debt seems like a very good thing. My debt wasn't horrible. To set up budget management software on my computer, and start truly looking at where I was spending money, was, again, a very good idea. It made me feel like I wasn't drowning in a hopeless pit of financial hell.

But then, I took it a little farther. I got obsessed with getting my credit cards reorganized to very low APR's (this obsession took some time, but it has been worth it I think). And now, I have set up an IRA. I finally have the beginnings of some savings toward retirement. Here's where the obsession begins.

I can contribute up to $4,000.00 for 2007 fiscal year to this IRA. However, right now, I have no liquid cash available to contribute. I have become obsessed with studying the markets, reading about stocks, bonds, mutual funds, IPO's. I know what stocks I want to buy and I have always had a pretty good intuition and comprehension for this whole arena. I told my mom to put all my college money in Disney Stock when I was in fourth grade. No one ever listened. But the point is, I am now obsessed with trying to raise four thousand bucks in the next four days. I could try to sell a juicer, some thigh high white vinyl go go boots, a few very rare records. You get the idea. Its not happening. But that doesn't mean I didn't spend the last 36 hours in my room trying to figure out a way to make it happen.

But at 5pm this afternoon, I knew I had hit a wall. I had been on hold with Fidelity for 90 minutes because no one is in the office on the day after Christmas. My 3:30 snack had came and went and my stomach was GROWLING. And I kept thinking, "Oh yeah, I remember how to do this. I remember this nice little empty feeling." Wrong answer. I talked to the agent and went straight downstairs for a fast dinner. I can't even entertain the thought of restriction. I can recognize when my stomach is full...that is mindful. But I can't willfully ignore hunger signals several hours after they begin and continue. Once I enter that dark path, I lose the ability to do anything else. Extremes. I also convinced myself that I didn't need to buy groceries anymore. That money would be my monthly IRA contribution. They are just thoughts. There are thousands of thoughts generated by the human brain daily. I need not choose to act on more than about a hundred. The thoughts can come in and then they can go right back out.

I saw a movie tonight, I am Legend. I hadn't seen a movie in ages. I made an ex-boyfriend pay for 40% of the cost. I loved it. Nothing like a great post-apocalyptic flick to keep up my holiday cheer.

We ended the evening watching a documentary on the genocide in Darfur. I ate too many Christmas cookies. This was not a binge. I don't feel good about it, but it was not a binge. No reason to beat myself up when I did nothing wrong.

I hope everyone is okay! love, Amalia

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

It was a close one, but I think it was a save

Dear friends,

Thanks so much to everyone who I communicated with today. Thanks to everyone who is trying to get well.

After I finished writing my nine thousand word story about the weekend, I figured it was still very early in the day, and I was somehow in a decent mood. I started doing my positive self talk, something to the effect of, "my day, I'm worth it, I'm saving it, I'm taking care of me."

I went to the 24 hour pharmacy and picked up meds that were sitting there for 6 days-- meds that are supposed to help me with impulse control and binging. Duh. Then I came home and cleaned my bedroom, took out trash, made the bed. And then, I called Fidelity Investments.

The experts say that more one feels a strong self of efficacy, the less powerful the eating disorder becomes. I sat on the phone with Fidelity reps getting lessons in investing, and by the end of the conversation, had designated how I wanted the funds for my IRA invested.

Wow. That felt good. I still had no idea if or where I was going to spend the evening. My mom kept calling. My ex-boyfriend kept calling (the Catholic-- I mean no disrespect, not the bass player). I made some corn muffins and cookies to be ready for wherever I went, since I had batter ready and wanted to get rid of it. While I was on the phone with my mom for the final time, the fire alarm went off downstairs. I smelled smoke. I ran down to the kitchen.

Thick black smoke was pouring out from the oven. I saw no fire. I was afraid to open the oven door, if per chance there was a fire, not wanting to give it more oxygen. But the smoke just kept coming and coming and got thicker and thicker, even with the oven turned off. I finally opened the oven door. The cookies were just burned to a crisp and were smoking like crazy.

I am clearly not a baker. Did the directions say 275 for 8 to 10 minutes? I could have sworn it said 375 degrees. The bickering with the mother figure diverted attention away from the food. Damn, woman!

Anyway, the end results was that crazy mom and drug addict felon brother were staying home together. Dad (who I like even though he is weak) was going on to Indian family dinner. I decided to go to the Indian family dinner, unshowered and reeking of cookie smoke, with 8 small dried corn muffins in tow. I also gave the hostess two chocolate bars that my students gave me, still trying to get all of the extra food temptation out of the house.

It was a great move.

By the time I got to feast, my stomach pain had about passed. My dad and I were the only American born people out of about 20 people. The rest of the folks were native to India. I knew only Sam, my dad's best friend from soccer. He is a lovely person and has a wonderful family. The whole evening from start to finish was about meeting some wonderful people and sharing a special evening together.

I ignored the pre dinner snacks and by the time dinner was served, I was genuinely empty and hungry. I felt like I ate slowly, moderately, mindfully, and extremely reasonably. For dessert, I skipped the cake and had one small handmade Indian donut. Again, I was okay with this. I truly ate it slowly and enjoyed it. I think I was truly present for every conversation that I had tonight. The big joke of the evening was that our Christmas dinner was being attended by Jews, Hindus, and Muslims. There was a lot of love in that room.

I got a little weird when I came home but it wasn't terrible. I ate two Christmas cookies that my roommate left for 'the house', and some of the leftovers that the host sent home with me. I am supposed to have a snack before bed. This is alright.

I picked a name...Amalia

I think for now, for anonymity I will call myself Amalia? I like it.

Sticky Little Christmas

So Christmas Eve is where it gets sticky.

I dropped the guy off. He grew up near where my parents still live. And my parents continue to harbor and enable my drug addict/criminal 21-year old brother. I love this kid so so much, but he is so so sick and he will never ever get better or get to his own bottom while he lives with my parents. My mother is addicted to my brother needing her, even though he is bat shit crazy, violent, hysterical, and he hates her. In certain moments, they will still talk in baby talk to each other. Right now he is facing some serious criminal charges incurred while he was living at home. They continue to support him, giving him money, bailing him out of prison, paying for attorneys, fixing his car, the whole deal.

To give one more example of how fucked my mom is, a few nights ago, she asked me if I wanted to go with her to weight watchers.

That is how ALL of this started when I was five.

la la la ha ha ha ha

Anyway, so I dropped the guy off, and I needed to get some mail from my parents' house. I hadn't been there in quite some time. I knew there were going to be home but I figured I may as well get it over with. They were there. My mom does this gross weird baby sing song "Hi Me Ma La!" thing when I walk in the door. I cringe and pull my head away.

"You could kiss me back!", she whines like a baby and acts hurt.

" I don't put my mouth on anyone," I reply flatly. Yeah right. She's a fucking freak.

I am there for about an hour and then I learn that I have to get something notarized at the bank and she has to go with me. Good god. We may as well get this over with. I summon all my strength and quiet my brain, something I have learned from meditation. Its not that bad and soon enough, I am going back to the city.

My day is okay-- my roommate and I go grocery shopping. Then I immediately meet up with E's sister and go for a two hour walk. But while on the walk, I start to worry. My brother has asked my parents over for dinner and Im invited as well.

Learning mistake- I go.

There have been only a few meals that I have not binged or starved around my parents. I had already under eaten yesterday. I was just busy the whole day.

My mom and I were delegated the food orderers since I have the most food issues and she has the credit card. I wanted to run out of there. I should have run out of there. I overate Thai food. And then I made another mistake. I shoved some cookies into my mouth, put my suit back on, and ran out the door. My destination? Midnight mass at the church of my last major ex-boyfriend, a very very screwy relationship. I am not Eastern Rite Ukrainian Catholic. I can pretend, but I'm not.

The whole time that I am sitting there, I am thinking about the refreshments afterward.

"Coffee and donuts downstairs following the liturgy!" the sign says.

I have historically had problems with food at this church, and around my ex-boyfriend. He is anorexic and he has ALWAYS made me feel totally inadequate in every way, thus the failure of our relationship.

During the refreshments period following the liturgy, I shove cookies in my pocket. I choke down a few donut holes. I swallow a cup of coffee straight out of the pot somehow thinking it will melt the calories. People with sleep issues should NEVER drink coffee after 3 pm.

People were coming up to me and asking where I had been. How come it had been so long since I had been there? Maybe I should convert to Catholic? Was I coming to the Parish Christmas party on Saturday? I stole a bag of brownies and ran to the bathroom. I ate a bite of one and threw the rest in the feminine hygiene trash can. I had to get out of there. The x wanted me to help me clean up. I did. He asked if I wanted to come over. Even broken up, I have always gone over there to stay on Christmas Eve. I went home.

Maybe I should have. When I walked in, my roommates had leftovers everyone. I ate more. And then then nausea started. I started exercising and drinking tea at 2:30 am. I fell asleep till 5:30am, woke up, made some disgusting sandwich of bread, flax oil peanut butter, jelly, and cottage cheese, ate half, fell back asleep. I ate more around 9:30 am. Now its 12:40 pm my time. The sun is out. Its Christmas Day.

I have been invited to the ex-boyfriend's around 3. I don't think I can go because I am way too gassy. I have been invited to the home of my dad's best friend tonight (they are Indian, I love this family) but my mom will be there.

I don't quite know what to do.

My legs are too tired to go for a run. Sometimes a bath helps the stomach but not all that much. I got some serious freaking reflux. I am forgiving myself for this one. I just want to make this day productive.

I am going to do art.

I love all of you guys.

back in the sack

Sunday afternoon, I left coffee with the meditators and switched my cell phone back on. For some reason, when I saw that it was after 2pm, I thought that E would be furious that my phone had been off for so long. There was no message from him. But there was a text message from my brother R who lives in Northern Virginia. R is married and has a two month old daughter who I am absolutely in love with.

The message- "You still coming to the Brazilian birthday party?" Jeez Louise. Another party. I totally forgot about this one. Party number 14 for this month. He had invited to the 31st birthday party of one his best friends from high school. It was going to be at a pizza place in Northern Virginia. I don't like leaving DC. I am not a fan of the suburbs. But I feel compelled to see my niece once a week. And I think my brother wanted me to flirt with hot Brazilian guys-- at least in theory. He was having some of his high school friends and their parents over to his house first, and then we were all going together to the restaurant.

I went early to help him clean. The baby had just gotten its first cold and his wife was exhausted from taking care of her. And I brought a suit. I figured Brazilians would be dressed to kill. I was way over-dressed. That was fine, better than looking like shit. I felt good.

Well, my brother's two high school buddies arrived at his place right at 5:30pm. I have NO memory of them from high school. My illness goes back so far that I was completely oblivious to everything going on around me. His two friends acted like they had met me several times and I just went with it. I am good at faking it. Band life prepares you for social situations where you don't remember people at all.

One of the guys, C, sadly had just divorced his high school sweetheart about 6 months ago. They had been together for fifteen years. He was a hot surgeon and it became apparent quickly that we were hitting it off. We were both exchanging some snappy witty conversation and I was suddenly having a damn good time. The thought popped into my head that the meditation this morning, plus the nice group coffee and the other new guy, all of it, was making me feel really alive. It was just fun.

So my brother's friend was essentially, extremely intelligent, knowledgeable in about every possible area that I tried to challenge him in, funny, somewhat attractive, recently divorced, from a great family, one of the youngest super star American Radiologist Oncologist, and clearly following me all over for an evening. Now I am not a dummy with guys. I am more than happy to flirt for an evening, and walk away and never look back. But I stopped hooking up with people because I started to truly believe that my body is totally unfuckable and myself is completely unlovable. With thoughts like these, its no goddamn wonder that I had and continue to battle every possible disordered eating behavior.

Well, we went to the restaurant and the conversational banter continued.

And then at 8:30pm, my brother and sister-in-law looked at me and said, okay, let's go, we are tired. I am older than they are, but I don't have children, and I'm on vacation. But I didn't take my own car. So I left with them. After all, I hadn't changed my mind about my perception of my bottom line self. So I was leaving.

Back at my brother's house, there were cookies and treats on the counter. And I had to started battling those. I ate a few m&m's, ate one large cookie, stole a cereal bar (even though he would have given me a box) and started to go back to DC. As soon as I got into my car, the surgeon sent me a text message. He wanted me to come back.

I am going to cut to the chase here. After all, its Christmas, and you guys probably families.

I went back, picked him up, took him to my house in the city, and had sex with him. Before we did it, I warned him that I had a freaky gut. He said, "what do you think I am going to do, leave?" Then we went to the dive bar in my neighborhood and had a drink. We went back to my house, had sex again, and went to sleep.

He wanted me to sleep naked, I put clothes on. I defended my needs. I also pried myself free and put in ear plugs and took my sleeping med so I could get some sleep. And at 5 am, when he tried to wake me up to do it again, I said no because I was so freaking sore.

These are HUGE successes for me! HUGE!!!!! Amanda did human things. Amanda felt human things. Now, I know that one night stands are not great ideas. But I hadn't had sex in a long long time. There was one other person, in the last several years, and I did NOT like him.

I chose this guy. And I held my ground on some things.

And I drove his butt back to mommy and daddy at 9am, giving me the whole day to do what I wanted. He needed to go back early anyway. I actually might see him again when my band plays near his hospital. Cool.

I'm giving myself the Christmas Pass

Things had been going pretty well until late last night. And because its Christmas, I think I am going to give myself a pass. I just hope that my body recovers at some point today, because I would like to join somebody's family for the evening.

I had a party at my house Friday night. I didn't want to have this party. A friend of mine wanted to have the party. In the middle of the week, she called and asked if I could host because her place was full of artwork for they boyfriend's upcoming art show. Learning point number one? I said yes. I meant no.

I don't like to host social events for several reasons. The only legitimate reason is that in the last two months, I have made a MAJOR effort to completely get my finances under control. I am not spending money unless its ABSOLUTELY essential for survival. I am paying off credit debt and I have started an IRA. Those are my priorities. Well, if you have a party at your house, there is no way, that you don't end of laying out cash.

I laid out some cash.

And I also baked. Learning point/mistake number two. I still have cookie dough in the house. I did manage to give away about 90% of the food that night (even though my brain was screaming at me that I had just taken $60 of my hard earned cash and set it on non-nutritive, damaging fire).

And I drank some of the booze that I bought. Before that night, I had not touched alcohol in months. So at my party, I drank, I ate a TON of sugar, and continued to eat for about 12 hours after everyone left, and spent a ton of money (for my budget) that I couldn't afford.

Saturday afternoon, my stomach was KILLING me. My bass player/x-boyfriend/bff/sometimes mean friend 'e' called, quite predictably. He wanted to do something fun. I knew that I had to go out. I knew that if I sat in the house, it would only get worse. "E" would deal with the farts, and I would try to keep the mood light.

He wanted to go shopping in the Virginia suburbs. I did a few things that were in my best interest. I needed an oil change, and I needed to do this in Maryland. I also insisted that I return $9.00 worth of meat that had spoiled before the sell by date. I knew that would make me feel a little better about the money lost from the party.

Before we left, friends called to tell me that they had never had more than at my party. I had set up crafts, and bead making, and card making, and ornament decorating. I wanted to do something other than get loaded. So it seems, it some ways, that my mission was accomplished. That felt good.

And erick to the destinations that i picked. That felt good as well.

By 8pm, I was finally hungry. We had come home, and run up to the little market in our neighborhood. I spent less than two bucks on a few veggies and a sweet potato and made a great dinner. Only problem was that I ate way past the point of fullness.

While I was eating, I was obsessing over the fact that I was exhausted and that there was yet another party in my neighborhood that night. I was upset that I was already feeling pressured to go to that party. My friends from all over the world that come home for Christmas would be there. But after that dinner, my stomach hurt all over again. And I did something wise. I went to my room and found a book that I had purchased last spring.

The book is a very comprehensive program about mindful eating. Every time I had followed the tenets of the program in the past, my binges stopped. I went back to that book. I set up my food journal again. I wrote out the principles of the program again. The program is pretty much available for free online. I can post the url if anyone wants to check it out. Email me, I'm happy to share. I don't want anyone to think I'm pushing it, so I won't post it here directly.

So I skipped the party, and still did some night eating. Not as bad, though.

And Sunday.

Sunday morning, I woke up early which is just better for me. Its like a typical workday and I'm better when I stick to that schedule.

I went to a free meditation class in DC. I had not gone in a very long time. Its a small group that meditates together and is lead by a very down to earth British guy. He teaches some very basic ideas of increasing mindfulness in your life. He talks about how we can gently cultivate the idea of giving lovingkindness to ourselves, freely, without judgment.

When I do this, no binges. There is no reason to. I went out with the group afterward for coffee and met a new guy. That was great. I can write more about him later.

But the moral of the story is for me, living in the present, mindful eating, mindful living, these are good things.

I'm going straight to the next post, because there is another story. However, I want to separate them, because the content is quite strikingly different.

email me if you want the website about the free mindful eating program. Its very comprehensive and very liberating.

Friday, December 21, 2007

What am I locking out? What I am locking in?

A major part of my eating disordered behavior has been night eating. The pattern is I go to sleep and usually about 45 minutes to an hour later, I jump out of bed and run down to the kitchen thinking, " I HAVE TO EAT NOW!" I search frantically for something bready, sweet, high carb, high fat, and eat it quickly. I may keep eating for between ten to twenty minutes, looking for a few items. Very often, in the past, the food would belong to my roommates, because I would NEVER allow myself to buy or own foods of that nature. If anyone tried to stop these feedings, I would become furious, almost like a Jekyll and Hyde. Sometimes, this would happen two or three times a night every night. I would wake up sick and depressed, unable to eat for hours and hours. I would exercise compulsively, desperate to burn off the calories from the massive intake during the night. I didn't understand the behavior. I saw sleep doctors, I saw shrinks, I saw endocrinologists. Everyone had their own theory.

Well, no one had answers, so I solved my own problem. In the Spring of 2003, I started dating a boy much younger than I. He was a huge fan of my band and was willing to do anything to make me happy. I asked him to put a combination lock on the inside of our bedroom door that only he knew the combination to. He had an bathroom off his bedroom so the setup was perfect. He was willing.

The first several nights I woke up and went a little nuts. I was desperate to get out, desperate to eat. Eventually though, I was able to calm myself down and go back to bed. But I had already started restricting because I felt like the locked door at night gave me an opening to finally lose the rest of my extra weight. Everyone knows that anorexics stop sleeping. I never really had a chance to normalize.

I broke up with the boyfriend/keeper of the lock in January 2006. I was completely immersed in anorexia and wanted this person away from me. The only thing that tied me to him was the lock and I was terrified that losing him would be the beginning of gaining the weight back. It was.

Well, Dec 2007, and I am back to the same weight I was when I first started locking that bedroom door. My nighteating behavior is so utterly disturbing to me but I have ALWAYS been determined to find away to control it myself.

My latest scheme was this- I found a company in Germany that makes small time-delayed safes. I have devised a way that I can lock myself in my room at night. My therapist is highly opposed to it. She believes the lock is a metaphor. She asks me, "What am I really trying to lock in?" "What am I really trying to lock out?"

I haven't started restricting again. My body seems completely intolerant of the slightest reduction in calories. I know that other people did far worse but my body seems to have no intention of allowing me to return to any state of hunger. The desire to lose weight is there. It was always be there. But the desire to live and enjoy other pursuits is stronger.

But the night eating. I'm still stumped. Last night, I did not use my locks. I was up three times. This morning, my stomach hurt until 11:30 am. I am aware and I am not aware. There are thoughts that are streaming when I go to the food and I know that I have to introduce new ones.

Some that have been suggested to me "I stay in bed. I control my body. I control my breathing." I was able to do this a few times.

But, I am going to work on answering the questions. What am I locking out? What am I locking in?

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Mama saw the doctor and the doctor said

Yesterday I saw my psychiatrist.

I have a wonderful psychiatrist. I met him a little less than a year ago during my first inpatient hospitalization. He was one of the attending physicians on my team. I liked him immensely and respected his intelligence, positivity, integrity, and openness to my involvement in my own healing. He was also the only person on my team who believed that I SHOULD NOT quit my band. He understood that music was too much a part of my life to not have it.

After I went home and continued to struggle, he indulged my constant perusal of medical journals for new information about medications being used to help people with night eating syndrome (not that that was necessarily a good thing). And when my medical insurance changed, and no longer worked with the university hospital that he practices from, he continued to simply charge me my old co-pay-- less than 1/10 his hourly rate.

Rarely in the medical profession have I encountered a doctor that practices like a human.

Yesterday I told him about my blog. He advised that I increase the anonymity for a few reasons. First, because I teach middle school, and my kids are constantly doing searches for my band's music and videos, they are bound to find the blog at some point. And for other obvious reasons. I have a nutty family...blah blah blah. So, for now, I am going a little more anonymous.

I left his office really sad. I was sad for several reasons. I am not sure what was more important though, the reasons that I was sad, or that I let myself feel sad.

I do not have the answers to my problems. Last night I was totally depressed. There are about 6 things that I feel are almost too big to beat or solve or change (at least that I can see right now). But, my rule, I am not going to fix them by engaging an eating disorder. So, its a beautiful Thursday morning, and I'm going to enjoy my students today. I usually do. I might write about the problems today.

You guys might have some ideas. I can't tell you how awesome it feels to suddenly be not so alone. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Make it YOURSELF!!!! WAHOOOOO!!!!

Even when you know the recipe, you don't always follow it.

I left a few things out of prescription for days on the 'more productive' range.

Keeping food logs.

Listening to some type of positive healthy food/eating/body/breathing affirmation recording, sometimes multiple times a day. (I truly believe this helps me re-program a brain that has so many automatic negative thought loops running). I can stop them and change them any time I want. I just have to CONSTANTLY keep track of them and this takes MAJOR effort.

I have to engage in positive self talk like its my full time job.

I have learned from watching the guys that I know, that we humans largely create our own life experience. We truly do. We can choose in every moment what we want to do, learn, eat, make, inhale, exhale, think, observe, record, or avoid.

I have so many excuses that run through my daily thought loops. I am, however, getting better at catching them at tossing them out the window.

My counselor tells me that when starts a binge, the thought that goes with it is usually, "FUCK IT, I ALREADY STARTED, I MAY AS WELL BINGE!". There we go, we are off, chowing down, searching, cramming the food in our mouths, whatever it is, doesn't matter who it belongs to. It doesn't matter if I am at work and I'm searching in other people's lunch bags, the staff lounge, my roommate's leftovers, my bandmates' dinners, or food at stores that I have not bought. In that moment, I don't care.

I'm taking back the power. I count. I care about me. Even if its only for this morning. I'm changing the thought. The thought is now, "FUCK IT, I'M GOING TO BE GOOD TO MYSELF! WHAT HAVE I GOT TO LOSE?"

If I do it for an hour, awesome. That's an hour more than anyone else could have done it for me.

I dont care how shitty my life is, there are 9 million people out there who have it worse than me. I do not have cancer, I do not have leprosy. I do not have breast cancer.

I have a full head of hair. I have all my teeth.

Yesterday, I did something really stupid. I was driving my band touring van to get its emission's tested and I bumped a parked car in a parking lot. I pulled up next to it, checked it completely on the side where I thought I scraped it. I saw no damage anywhere so I left. Someone wrote down my tag and called the cops. A county police officer called me a couple of hours later. I told him that I just got nervous and took off. I aplogized. He said don't worry about it, I'm not going to arrest you, and he took my insurance information. I didn't get his name, I didn't get the name of the person who I hit. I forgot to tell him that I inspected this car and saw NOTHING. It doesn't really matter.

After the phone call, I felt like I was the lowest piece of trailer trash in the world. I wanted to jump off a bridge. I was ready to sell my cars, quit my band, move to Portland, Oregon, and become a bike courier. All I could think was that I didn't deserve to drive, be amongst people, or live. I felt so damn evil and dirty and caught in a lie. I was a hit and run driver. I could have been arrested. I was a monster (just like my brother, the mentally ill junky currently faces major assualt and theft charges). No better than him.

When I got home, I sat on the floor of my bedroom in my coat for an hour. Thank god I didn't start eating. I told myself I wasn't going to do that. And I kept that deal. About 9pm, my bandmate (who is my x-boyfriend, bestfriend, crazy neighbor, the person who I hang out with constantly) comes over to talk about our next art project. I told him what happened.

I thought he was going to yell at me. E thought it was a scam. He thought someone was trying to do some weird identity theft by writing down my license plate number and then paying an internet service to get my phone number and scare me into getting my car insurance policy.
What struck me is how differently he reacted. E has a self-esteem. He just thought it was a bunch of bullshit. He doesn't ever equate his self-worth with the events of the day. His value never changes, no matter how bad things get. We are both starving artists. My self worth is always riding on every show, every review, every human response. E doesn't give a damn what they think.

I can create my own experience, any time I want. This morning is mine. I'm having fun.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

The Basics, The Roots, How I am going to do this

It always amazes me how quickly one feels stronger when connected to a group of peers in a community. Eating Disorders isolate people. I battle the urge to shut people out on a regular basis. When I win the battle, when I do engage in social activity, I immediately recognize how much better it feels to be with people. The eating disorder gains strength as soon as I get lonely and stay lonely. I did NOT want to go to another Christmas party last night. My bandmate, E, dragged me out anyway as he is often inclined to do. As soon as I stopped thinking about the snack table ( I ate one small snack and was satisfied), I had a great time. I danced. I chatted. I flirted. I even left at a decent time.

Now, I still had a mini-binge when I got home. Or was that my before bed snack? I still have a hard time knowing the difference? The problem lies in the idea that I look forward to that moment of eating alone in the kitchen, and then REGRET it immediately, even though last night, I think the food was pretty reasonable. No, it wasn't a binge.

I made some kind of informal commitment to myself today to take inventory of the things I need to do everyday to help me stay focused on life, living, and the real world-- and to do them (there are several). Every single day, I have to cook/eat decent meals with adequate protein, fat, and carbohydrate. I have to take my medications. I have to take vitamins (post-op gastric bypass, even though it was many years ago). I have to shower, wear clean clothes, go to work. To keep my mood strong, I have to take fish oil, 5 htp, and exercise in some way daily. I have to get adequate sleep. I have to tell people when they have hurt me. I have to tell people when I care. I have to communicate my needs. But I also have to be very productive and creative and always learning something new. Are those standards too high? Is that part of the disease? Is that part of letting yourself down? I really don't know.

One lapse in any of the above areas, results in weakness for me. And then I get weird with food.

I have also only recently begun to tackle the mess that is my finances. This was one of the things in my life that was causing me to feel like I was stuck in a slippery black hole that I could never get free from. Well, I had to face the debt. And I learned a valuable lesson. As soon as you look something straight in the eye, you begin to see its weaknesses. I set up a budget for myself on Quicken financial software. I tried to rearrange some of my credit card debt, to lighten some of the finance charges (this isn't quite done yet). Now I am in the process of trying to convert an old 401k that I had many years ago, into an IRA, so I can FINALLY start saving for some kind of retirement.

I am human. I will live. I have needs.

I used to tell myself every single day that I didn't matter, so what I did to myself wouldn't matter. But that's not true.

Now, I know that I have to take extra steps on a daily basis to tend to my basic humanly needs, because I am that important to myself.

This idea of caring about myself is emerging in odd moments in the days and its making me start to cry. Crying is new, too. I look at people all that time that laugh and cry and I wonder how they do that? I know that I am highly intelligent. I know that I am extremely creative. But my three major emotions have been predominantly panic, furious, and fine.

Last week, I was driving to work during an snow storm. I had just finished a series of 14 drawings that were being flown down to Art Basel, a huge international art fair in Miami. And it suddenly occurred to me...."Oh My God. I like myself. I have done some really cool shit." And I started crying. And then the thoughts kept going. "I have taken risks that 99.8% of Americans would never have taken. I have done the one thing that every human craves more than anything else, and I'm still doing it. I am in a rock band that is still kicking ass. And somehow I am surviving. And I am making cool things. And I have a liver. And I have feet. And I have eyes."

So my weight isn't perfect. It might never be. My body won't ever be close to perfect.
But my counselor ( I have a great shrink and a great counselor, it has taken me several years to find a good team) was pretty thrilled when I shared this moment of recognition of self-love. If there is just a tiny root in the ground somewhere, we can water, and feed, and give gentle sunlight, and try to do this for a very long time with no great urgency, because there is a whole life time to do this.

I have done it. For that I can be proud.

I have learned from my counselor that being in recovery simply means being alright no matter what circumstances arise. I am okay. I will be okay if I have no job. I will be okay if I have no money (rock musicians tend to not have jobs or money). That's a joke- I work quite hard to make ends meet these days as a substitute teacher and tutor. This is the type of work that my tour schedule will allow for. But, the point is, I am okay with that.
I had been wanting to see up the ED blog for YEARS! I had started writing books, drawing comic books, laying out graphic novels, and planning art shows. And then I would always stop. Because, ultimately, and I have heard this said before, eating disorders for those that don't have them, are so incredibly boring. When we are sucked into them, locked into the rituals, the deadly routines, the obsessions, the sadness, and the agony-- they do become the end all, be all. But for the outsider, they are just incredibly boring. At least until you have to deal with a person with an eating disorder.
The compromise for me was the blog. I wanted to do it. I need to write. I have been keeping a tour diary for my band since we starting touring in 2002. And every time I write an entry for the band, I feel like I am writing about 1/30 of the stuff that actually goes on.

This blog is for me.

I have sacrificed everything for my band, in a way. I chose to. No one forced me to do this. Its easy to sacrifice yourself when you think you hate yourself and want to erase yourself. I gave up a job, a steady income, health benefits, a career with a future, my hearing, my credit (I don't have bad credit, just a MESS of debt), and about a zillion other things...I have no regrets. But I need to be Amanda now. I have a lot more to write about that, but it is way past my bed time.

Thanks to everyone who has already shown up. I can't tell you how much it means to me.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

It all started when.......

I wanted to write an elaborate personal history to describe all the little mini-events in my life brought me to where I am today. For now, for ease of bringing me quickly to the present, I am going to do a list, a seqeunce of events.

I am an intact healthy Jewish female in Silver Spring, MD in 1973 to married parents.

They adore me for a couple of years. I am precocious and beautiful.

Mother gets pregnant again when I am two. I start to get jealous.

I have a baby brother.

I am sexually abused by a neighbor at age 5.

There is another sexually abusive/physically abusive/incestuous relationship that lasts till I'm 15.

My mom starts making me diet when I am 5 as well.

There are multiple diets over the years, and the weight is always regained. Each time, more weight comes with it. The message I get is my body is not okay. Food is not okay.

I happen to be pretty smart and quite creative. These traits are dampened by depression, a growing eating disorder, and a lot of self hate.

I have abusive boyfriends. There is one boyfriend that I stay with from age 15 to 25. We start a band. We still have that band.

My high school best friend is anorexic. She dies at age 25. I begin to idealize anorexia. I see it as the ultimate freedom. Being thin means you need no one. No one can hurt you.

At age 27, I have a Masters Degree. I am a full time teacher and I play in a rock band. I weigh 260 pounds. I am suicidal. I take out a loan and have a gastric bypass. I quit counseling because I believe that my problems are over.

The weight comes off quickly. My body, however, is a mess. I have undergone a radical surgery. My stomach has been reduced to the sign of a thumb and the first six feet of small intestine have been bypassed. I can barely hold any food. If I eat too fast, if I eat the wrong thing. if I eat too much, I vomit or have dumping syndrome, or bloat, or fart for hours. I develop nutritional definicies. As I lose weight, my skin sags more and more. And I become crazier. I still have no idea how to eat healthfully. I have no idea how to love myself. I just want the adoration of anonymous people who like my band. I feel that will undo the years of misery.

Around 2002, my weight stabilizes at about 150 pounds. I still think I am fat. There are a few rejections from boys that I like and I say fuck it. Its time to finally get this right. I am losing the last weight. I learn about a concept known as calorie restriction for the objective of lengthening my life. I decide to weigh and measure my food, cut out all sugar, wheat and flour, and basically stop eating carbohydrate all together.

I had read South Beach. I stayed in Phase 1 for a long time. The only problem was I also had night eating syndrome. I would eat uncontrollably during my sleep state. But I found a knew boyfriend that would lock me in the bedroom at night. And finally I took my weight as low as I wanted it to.

I was shocked at how quickly it fell off. I look back at the two month period where the weight dropped off, with the fondest memories, even now. I was slamming diet soda. I was eating tuna and cucumber and egg white and zuchini. And I was losing weight at a ridiculous rate. Sugar free jello cups were all over my car. I was dizzy constantly and my bandmates hated me because I couldn't think straight.

Now, I still tell myself, if I had only known that I could have allowed myself to eat more, maybe the binges would have stopped, but I didn't know. Remember, food was still forbidden in my crazy brain. The next several years were hell. I kept digital scales to weigh food and my body everywhere. Measuring cups, safe foods, food lists, calorie lists...anything to keep track of incredibly low calorie consumptions, were my daily standard. If anything stood in the way of my calorie counting, or anything brought me close to food or temptation, I was furious.

I would cry if I ate anything off my plan. And I did it all the time. I looked like I concentration camp victim and I didn't care. I felt liberated. I had won. I had beated all of them. I had beaten my mother who did this to me. I had shown my father, who never wanted a fat daughter. I was finally the thin girl that every man in the world wanted. But I was too thin, and too saggy, and too freaky, and too brain dead to enjoy it. I still had night eating syndrome. I still had horrible gastric problems from the bypass ( I still do). And my bandmates couldn't take it anymore.

My boyfriend and I broke up in January 2006. I was using him as a jailor. I know now that he must have felt like he was dating a dying junkie. I feel terrible about that. That spring my band embarked on six week US tour. Historically, whenever we had tours in the past, I would have horrible binges all night long, and be sick in the van all day. The farting would just about destroy my bandmates. I always would gain a few pounds on tour and then lose them as soon as I got home. But I had never gone on tour for six weeks. And this would be the tour that I would get the worst news of my life.

When I was 13 years old, my mom had another child. I had a baby brother that I adored, more like a son than a brother. As I had fallen more into my eating disorded brain, I had lost touch with B. He had his own troubles-- real troubles. He grew up with real learning disabilities and was always being kicked out of school with serious behavior problems that my parents never addressed. At age 17 he dropped out of school and never went back. I don't know why I never thought about what he was up to after he dropped out. I knew he played the guitar and he had a job selling speakers for one summer. He was a brilliant cook as well.

About one week into the tour I got an email from my father. He needed help. B. was a heroin addict. I wanted to die. It was the worst news I could have possibly gotten. I knew my life would never ever be the same. My mother's sister's sons were both dead from heroin addiction but only after years of depleting every ounce of emotion, energy, and dollar the family had. The stress of learning about my brother's addiction and knowing I coudn't go home for six weeks sent me into a cycle of 24 hour a day refeeding rebound anorexia induced bingeing. My body was done. It had over-ridden my brain. I was so sick on that tour that I am amazed we finished it. When I got home and learned that I had gained six pounds, I was suicidal. And while I know its pointless to obsess over what can't be, I so wish that I had gone directly to an in-patient hospitalization. It was only six pounds. In my mind, my life was over. I thought I was obese.

I couldn't help my family even though I tried. I kept on bingeing all summer and through another tour in the fall. I checked myself into an ED program the day after Christmas 2006. By that time, I had gained a more considerable amount of weight, but still not out of my 'healthy' weight range.

And when I checked out six weeks later, I still lacked the discipline, or the skills, or the follow-through to get myself together.

Its almost been a year and ironically, my weight is about where it was when it stopped going down naturally after the bypass. I feel quite large but I really want some peace now. I'm tired. I am tired of the roller coaster of this disease. I am hoping this blog helps me connect to people who get it.

I know I need to experience my feelings instead of eating over them. Well, I think this is a place where I can at least try to articulate them. I still binge. I want to stop. I do like myself. I want to make that feeling grow.

NEW Eating Disorder Address!

2008-01-19T18:05:00.000-08:00

I just set up a new gmail account and a new blog address. I think I am now well hidden. I will post with a fury!