Posted in Blogging, Food, Mental Health, Weight

I’ll never be a size 0…

I wanted to share a status update that I wrote on Facebook a while back, here on my blog.

I’ll never be a size 0. Hell, I’ll probably never even be a size 6. The smallest size I’ve ever been was a size 9 and that was in the beginning of high school. Looking at photographs of myself from back then I realize that I was downright skinny, but at the time I felt like a I was fat because of the size I wore. I recently lost at least 30 lbs, I don’t know exactly how much because I stopped weighing myself after the scale hit a certain number. So I don’t know what my actual highest weight was. I was also shocked to realize that I had lost any weight because when I did step on the scale again I was expecting to see that I had gained. Yes, even with all of the clothes that were too loose, I expected to see that I had gained. I wish that when I was younger I had realized that some women will never be able to look like the women in the magazines. Hell, I wish I realized that the women in the magazines don’t look like the women in the magazines! I reject the “healthy weight” that I am supposed to be at. If I drop down to that weight I will be decidedly unhealthy. I’m curvy and always will be. All women are built differently, I was not built to ever be a size 0.

Here’s a comment that I wrote on that same status update.

But seriously, think about it. How is it even remotely a good idea to set these impossible images of women as the “ideal woman”? If even the women in the magazines can’t actually look like that and if in order to be even close to that image they have to do amazingly dangerously unhealthy things, what message is that really sending? It’s absolutely ridiculous that those images are what are considered images of healthy women. I love food and I refuse to starve myself again or deprive myself of the things I like just to be a smaller size, it’s just not worth it… 

I, by the way, am 5′ 6″ and a size 14 now, and I am actually happy about it. Most days.

I have been reading some other blogs where women are either struggling to appreciate the body that they have, or are struggling with an active eating disorder that has taken over their life. One of the things that I keep seeing either said by these women, or to these women in comments, is about eating healthy foods or good foods. What I feel like screaming is there is no such thing as a bad food! If you restrict what you have decided you are “allowed” to eat, you will rebel. Eating like that is not healthy, nor is it sustainable. If you do manage to only eat certain foods for a certain amount of time, you might lose some weight, but once you revert back to eating “normally” you will more than likely gain it back and then some. Dieting is not worth it! Once all foods are options, you can work on eating what you actually want, when you are actually hungry until you are satisfied. Not until you are full, or stuffed, but satisfied. When you realize that you can have that food again whenever you decide you would like to, you are less likely to overdo it.

Don’t count calories. Don’t “eat only good foods”. Eat when you hungry, enough to fuel you, and then stop. This is what I am currently trying to work on learning.

Also, learn to be okay with yourself, no matter what size you are. Don’t make it about a size, or a number on a scale. Stop focusing on losing weight, and start focusing on treating your body with the respect that it deserves. 

Your worth is not measured my how much you weigh. Your life will not magically become better just because you hit some arbitrary number on a scale. 

Your life is worth going out and actually living, right as you are, right now. You are enough.  

Posted in Apartment Living, Blogging, Stay at Home Wife

Operation “Get My Ass Out of Bed”: Day Two

I planned on writing this post much earlier in the day, but I got distracted with Facebook, reading other people’s blogs, and long, long distance phone call.

I did manage to get up out of bed with my alarms 2 days in a row now. (Again, yay me!)  Although, me actually staying up and out of bed today might have something to do with the spectacular failure my blinds had this morning when I went to go and twist them open. Now you see, these blinds already had some issues. The plastic rod that you are supposed to hold onto to be able to twist them open broke a while ago. I super glued it back together, and then it fell apart again, so I gave up on it. Now that plastic rod probably broke because I was having to hold it out at just the right angle in order to get the blinds to open or close all the way… Anyway, so since the plastic rod broke I was standing on my tiptoes, with one eye open, holding onto the metal hook that the plastic thing was supposed to hook onto, and twisting that in order to open up the blinds. That was working out rather well, if not awkwardly, for the longest time… until this morning. This morning something broke and the metal hook came off in my hand. So I went and tried to open the blinds with the little plastic piece that the little hook was once attached to, until I accidentally unscrewed that and it too came off in my hand. I managed to screw it back in, and got the blinds into a closed position. From now on the blinds get pulled all the way open by the cords on the side… just like it’s sibling in the guest room that also had a spectacular failure a few weeks back. 

Maybe now that both of them have failed me, I’ll finally get around to calling the apartment office about it… or not. I hate calling to have maintenance come to my apartment. I never have any idea when (or if) they will finally show up. Last time we had problems with our blinds they let us come pick them up and install them ourselves, but the apartment complex is now “under new management”, so who knows what their policy is about these things. Also, last time we had issues with our blinds we found out that they had “A Guy” who fixed them for them… Can’t I just have new blinds that won’t fail me within a couple of months?

But, the point is, I got up and stayed up at the time that I was supposed to.

And that’s all that really counts, right?

Posted in Food, Mental Health, Weight

My adventures in the world of disordered eating…

When I tell people that I dealt with some issues with anorexia when I was in my teens, one of the common reactions is for people look me up and down, while clearly thinking “Well, she sure got over that, didn’t she.”  To be fair, no one has ever actually said that to me, but really who would actually say that, out loud, to someone?

Now, I never knew at the time that I was actually dealing with an eating disorder, that what I was doing to myself had a name. I never got to the point where I ended up needing to see a doctor about it. But that is probably only because I was put on a medication to try to deal with my Bi-polar Disorder that made me hungry all the time and caused me to gain weight. My eating disorder hid behind my much more apparent mental illnesses.

Then, once the pills made me start eating again, I started to go toward the opposite end of the spectrum toward eating way more than I needed to. But nobody really noticed this, because, hey at least she’s eating again. I love food, so I think that this period was me trying to make up for the time that I deprived myself for so long.

And then I got to the point a few years back where I stepped on the scale, was horrified by the number that I saw, and decided not to step on a scale again for at least a year because I didn’t want to know how much weight I had gained.

But during that year I changed my eating habits, mostly because we just couldn’t afford to buy as much food. Through physically not having enough food to eat the portion sizes that I used to eat, I found that I actually got full on much less food than what I thought I needed. In fact, when I would try to eat the portion sizes that I used to eat, I could not do it.

I probably started being a bit more active too. I have never been one for exercise for exercise’s sake, but I do like to walk. Which is good, because a few years after this time period my husband and I got rid of our car. We now either walk, use public transit, or both. And for the most part, I love it.

When I stepped on the scale again though, about a year later, after having stopped eating so much, I really expected to see that I had gained weight. Like a substantial amount of weight. Imagine my surprise when it told me I had lost weight. 30 lbs to be exact. I didn’t even realize how much I had lost until my husband pointed it out to me. Now, 30 lbs is just how much I actually know I lost though, based on the highest weight that I actually know. I don’t actually know what my highest weight was, because I stopped weighing myself. So I don’t really know exactly how much weight I lost total.

Then my big question was, how the hell did I lose 30 lbs (or more) and not know it? How the hell did I lose 30 lbs (or more) and seriously expect to see that I had gained weight? How do you miss something like that?

The answer: You explain away all the signs that you are losing weight in a negative way. I noticed that my pants were fitting more loosely, but I thought that I had gotten so big that I had stretched them out. (I know it, it doesn’t really make sense. But delusions don’t have to make sense.)

How did I not see it? Easy, the same way that I saw my “thin” self as “fat” during my time dealing with anorexia, a severely warped self view. I literally could not see that I was losing weight. I have come to realize that I can not trust what I see in the mirror. That what I see and what others see, are usually nowhere near the same thing.

And yet, even with the fact that I have lost as much weight as I have, when I tell people that I used to struggle with anorexia, I still get that look. Because I’m still technically “overweight”.

As far as what people think about me having “gotten over” that eating disorder, they are wrong. I may be “overweight”, but since the time that I realized that I had lost all that weight, I freaked out about gaining it back. I never thought I’d ever lose that amount of weight in my life, and I certainly never thought I’d do it without knowing that I was, and so I’d be damned if I was going to gain it back. Hello anorexic behaviors and thinking. 

But this time around I think that it was even more dangerous, because since I am considered “overweight”, people (myself included for a while) don’t think that you can have that sort of eating disorder. But, even though it’s not to the extreme that it used to be when I was a teenager, I am still restricting my eating to a very rigid schedule. I have a hard time eating anything “extra” outside of that schedule even if I am clearly hungry, for fear of “overeating”. I also have a habit of going so long between eating, or not realizing that I am hungry, until I am literally dizzy, shaky, and close to passing out. That is not normal, or healthy. 

But now that I’ve realized it, and recognized it for what it is I can do something about it. I claim that I don’t do diets, and yet have been living with a diet mentality for years. No more. It’s not going to be easy to get past that fear and guilt, but it will sure be worth it. And it will be easier to do, recognizing them for being irrational and unhealthy.

I should make it very clear, I am not trying to lose weight. I am actually okay with the weight that I am at now. I wouldn’t mind if I lost some weight, but I don’t really want to get down to the weight that should be my “healthy goal weight”. If I weighed that much, I would be decidedly unhealthy. So, no, I’m not actively trying to lose weight, I just want to be healthy.

And that is a much better goal.