Thinspiring

"Thinspo" and "thinspiration" terms used to describe the emaciated girls we can only hope to emulate. Like most people that suffer with eating disorders, or even just basic body image issues, I have an entire Pinterest board dedicated to what I could only dream of looking like. But unlike most my "Must Be" board is mostly words, words have a bigger impact on me.

Some of these words I have committed to memory and I repeat them to myself over and over in fits of obsession reminding myself to find control and hang on tight. These words can come from anything they could be direct quotes from books or longingly searched for on the internet all related to anorexia. "Goodbye food, hello thin". Or they are simply movie quotes that I have perverted to fit my sick idea of comfort and control "turn out your toes, remember who you are". 

I don't know why words are like this for me. I know I've written about them before and how much one comment can ruin my entire day. I just really like words, provided they are the ones that I need to hear. The problem is that I spend so much time hearing words and everything can be a trigger. A catchy song I used to like now sends me into fits of tapping while I repeat over and over "eat your salad, no dessert". Yes, tapping. I've always had sort of a nervous habit of tapping when I got anxious but now the words must match up to each tap. And there's the rational part of me that is screaming to change the song but I can't. Sometimes I will play it 3 or 4 times in a row just to get the tapping done.

Sometimes I hit the "thinspo lottery" and stumble across a picture of a seemingly perfect girl watermarked against a perfect thinspo quote. Obviously these are a double whammy, these are the pictures I set as my background for a day or so before coming to my senses and realizing it's not healthy or productive to have these images/words laying around.

My therapist hates that I have this board. Her and I both know it's an unhealthy thing to have but I'm not yet at that point where I can delete it. Luckily I have Jamie and my friend Katie who have both promised to be there for me when I'm ready whenever that may be. And knowing that I have support for something that will be such a daunting challenge is amazing. 

Until then I must figure out how to get my mind off of negative words that promote negative actions and feelings, I just wish I knew how.

Pills to Make You...

Happy, sad, sleepy, numb. Lose weight, gain weight. Forget, forget, forget. As children we played doctor and the cure for anything was "take two M&Ms and call me in the morning." Best prescription EVER! Happily skipping off with your crayon-scribbled note to the fake pharmacy to fill it, if your brother hadn't eaten all of them yet.

Now, it's different. Your prescriptions are not nearly as delicious. You keep your head down as you walk to the real pharmacy with that same note, still a scribble but it's pen and it's real. Of course there's still that fear that some drug-addicted pharmacist has taken your pills.

When I am having a very bad day my favorite solution is to pop some pills and go to bed. Because if you don't have to face the problem there isn't one. But sometimes I have VERY bad days. Bad moments and everything just seems to suddenly fall apart. In those moments one or two pills won't cut it. In those moments the solution seems to be to just take enough Oxy or Trazadone or Prozac, hell just combine them, to put me in a lovely coma for a week or so. Not enough to kill myself of course, just to get a break. Besides, what could go wrong?

Ummm, everything.

I could miscalculate and end up killing myself, and I would hate that. If it didn't manage to go that far I could do irreparable damage to vital organs. And then there's what happens after I wake up. I would wake up probably chained to a bed in a padded cell. After all only crazy people take that many pills.

I hate that these thoughts come. They scare me and of course my first instinct is to tell somebody. So I email my therapist in panic mode. Which only succeeds in making her panic and telling me that if I'm serious she has to file a 51/50. Automatic 72 hour psych hold. 

Obviously I haven't followed through. I'm scared. And doing so would mean a major loss of control and I can't have that. 

So I just stick to my prescriptions and take them as recommended. Mostly. 

After all, a pill (or two) a day keeps the demons away.

Down the Rabbit Hole I Go. Again

Our worlds are different, mine and Alice's. Hers is unique and odd and filled with color. Mine is scary and dangerous and dark. Of course it took me a while to realize this. In my world thinness is genius and as long as you're skinny and perfect you can paint the roses whatever color you want, after all the Red Queen envies you and your fragileness. You spend your days chasing after the rabbit, even though you no longer care about where it is he's going, but as long as he's hop-hop-hopping along you might as well follow, it burns calories after all. The worst thing about this world is that damn cat, always trying to confuse you, go this way. Oh wait, that way. WAIT WAIT WAIT the other way is the right way. You want to scream and yell and strangle the stupid thing but he's untouchable because he is in your head. He's all the voices telling you to get out of that place-it's not a world you want to be part of or to run even faster-burn those calories. hide from the people trying to pull you out of this world. DON'T LET THEM FIND YOU!

Run, run, run straight into the perfect party. A party without food that offers only water, coffee, tea, and all of the gum that you can chew. There's the Mad-Hatter organizing all of the games "Step right up! I'll guess your weight! If I guess under what you weigh, you lose. If I guess over you're a winner-unless someone else weighs less." You step up to the scale, the evil machine you're not allowed near under normal circumstances, just another reason why you love this fucked up world. You're shaking, from hunger or panic you can't tell. Unfortunately, you're not standing long enough to hear the results. Before you know it you're flat on your back staring up into the creepy smile of that cat again. He's force-feeding you and you're not resisting.

Off in the corner, unbeknownst to you, Tweedle-Ana and Tweedle-Mia are standing there, whispering and planning, evil evil things. Remember, they can't see the cat. All they see is you failing, failing, failing. Tweedle-Ana is yelling at you to STOP! And just like that the cat switches from caring to laughing it's head off. It knows what it's done. The cat starts to tell you what a failure you are and points you over to Tweedle-Ana and Tweedle-Mia for help. They are staring at you with such a look of disgust it's painful. You look to them, disapointment evident in your eyes. You're scared because you  know what comes next. You know at this point Tweedle-Ana can't help. She got you to stop pigging out, so now Tweedle-Mia must help you get rid of the food.

But just like you failed Tweedle-Ana you fail Tweedle-Mia as well. You suck at purging and she just gives up, you're hopeless after all. Both Tweedle-Ana and Tweedle-Mia leave after that. Hoping they've at least scared you into submission, however you know they're always watching and waiting for you to fuck up again.

Something inside of you has suddenly snapped, this world that seemed so perfect and able to provide you with everything you need is suddenly changing, you need to get out of this world. So you bolt. Run, run as fast as you can they can't catch you...through the woods, hop the Queen's fence, she knows what you're doing and sends the cards to get you. The hunting horns sound, but lucky for you the cat is back and he decides to be encouraging, at least for now. "Run to get better, run back to the hole you fell down, don't let them catch you." he whispers.

You round the corner and you're there. Back to the place where it all began. Climb up and up and up, you're right at the edge, the edge of freedom. Almost back into the world of love and happiness and sunshine. You're struggling to climb out and you're clinging on the edge for dear life as the cards, the Mad-Hatter, the Queen, and the Tweedle's try to pull you back. You fight for as long as you can. But you're tired, and the cat has decided to taunt you again "Never mind, if you go back there's no more perfection. And who out there is going to love you if you're not perfect? Stay here, and we will help you acheive that."

So you let go, back down the rabbit hole you fall. After all, it's not so easy to escape from Hungerland.

Monsters Really do Exist

When we're little we are afraid of monsters. The ones in closests, under our beds, and out in the blackness of the night. As we grow older we start to realize that these are not the monsters to fear. There are the lucky ones that simply must realize that there are people out there who really are monsters but will never encounter them. Then there are those of us with the monsters inside of us, the monsters who make us do things that hurt ourselves and in doing so hurt those that we love.

The first monster I ever met was anxiety but that is easily tamed with the right combinations of pills, breathing exercises, and support. Anxiety has it's moments when it fights the affects of all of those and reigns supreme but can be controlled with enough focus.

Then, there was depression the monster I refused to acknowledge until it got so ferocious and scary that I finally had to admit that it had teamed up with anxiety and they were both wreaking havoc on my fragile psyche causing me to need find help in anyway I could, even though admitting it was almost as scary as facing it alone.

But then anorexia entered the picture. The scariest monster of all. Anorexia quickly took over, it might have been the newest in the bunch but it didn't take long for it to become the strongest.

The thing with this monster is that there aren't pills to fight it. Anorexia cannot be cured, it can only be fought. Fought by controlling the other monsters and finding strength within myself to defeat it. But I don't know if people understand that this battle is hard. I know it's not impossible but sometimes it feels like it. 

However this monster does sleep. But it is also easily awoken; by certain words or by simply chewing. I do my best not to let It wake up, though that sometimes means not eating. And when the monster does wake up to hear my stomach rumbling It is nice. It is proud of me for being strong enough to resist temptation. 

Because this monster is inside of me it knows every thought, feeling, and action coursing through my body and can tell when I'm about to slip. It knows how to control this, all I have to do is look at those perfect skinny models. The skeletons in clothes I can only dream of wearing. Or if I am unable to pull up any sort of pictures it simply whispers in my ear "look at your thighs, put down the food" "not worth the calories" "do you want to stay fat forever?" Those thoughts send me into panic mode. I scream and cry because there's a part of me, the part that the monster hasn't quite gotten to yet, that knows these are bad. Those thoughts are simply the monsters way of trying to win and I must do everything in my power not to let that happen.

The thing with these monsters is that I don't get a knight in shining armor to help me defeat them. However, I am not alone I am simply the leader. I must use the support and resources I've been given to defeat the monsters. It is hard knowing that I've had to bring all of these people into my war, a war none of us asked to be a part of, but one that I am glad I am not alone in.

So yes, I believe that monsters exist, out in the world and inside of us. But there those, like me, that have an amazing army behind them to help fight and call on when I am in need of assistance. And with any luck I will defeat Anorexia and hopefully take down the other two with it, and once that's done, perhaps I can help others fight their monsters because nobody should have to be afraid, especially of themselves.

 

An Open Letter to Muscle Milk

"If you enjoy feeling dull, overweight and lethargic put this bottle down, pick up that donut and prepare to cry yourself to sleep on the couch, again..."

To whom this may concern,

Seriously? What marketing genius came up with this? I have been that person that has cried because they ate a donut. Or has just cried because they ate ANYTHING and were "feeling overweight", even eating nothing at all can still trigger me to "cry myself to sleep on the couch, again". Granted, the fact that I suffer from anorexia makes a lot of things surrounding food very hard.

Eating a donut should not cause that much shame, a healthy person knows that indulging in the occasional donut should not make them feel that way. Even though I struggle when it comes to things like donuts I know that as long as I don't eat them everyday it's a perfectly acceptable morning companion to fresh fruit and coffee. Not that I eat donuts anyway, but I digress.

My therapist has instructed me to have something protein packed at every meal, but especially in the morning to help jump start my somewhat messed up metabolism. Thankfully, my therapist understands there are times when I just can't handle solid food. Where the act of chewing can cause me more anxiety than the food itself. Because she understands this, she told me that protein drinks are an acceptable replacement and she's just happy that I'm getting nutrients.

Muscle Milk was the answer, half of one in the morning and half of one at some other point in the day or even as breakfast the following day. Then I found Muscle Milk Light and I was ecstatic because it had fewer calories so my anxiety went down even further. I did experiment with a competitor whose shake was a whole ten calories less but the taste was awful and even I can rationalize ten calories for better taste. That was until I saw the back of your bottle.

We live in a day and age where eating disorders are more rampant than ever. It seems each year the age keeps dropping for those being diagnosed with eating disorders, and your product bemoaning someone for eating a donut is not going to change that. Why not put something useful on the bottle? Why not mention that it's a great choice when you're running late and need that boost because it's better than not eating at all? Because eating ONE donut should not make you feel that way but not eating at all will.

I hope this opens your eyes and prompts you to find a new way to market your truly delicious drinks, however, until then I will be unable to continue to support your product or company.

Sincerely,

Miranda Poletti

Puzzle Pieces

It's funny what you find when you look hard enough. I have discovered that no matter the age you're constantly leaving pieces of yourself wherever you go. I drive by the hospital I was born in on my way to school and next to that is the park where I had my first birthday. I don't remember these times but the pictures show a lot. And I can visit those places and feel a sense of comfort.

A family I babysit for lives just up the road from where I spent the first six years of my life; I've driven by old house numerous times. The house is different, very different. 13 years of different ownerships and tragedies change things. Despite these changes I can still see the puzzle pieces left behind; the pool I swam daily in, the carpet I took my first steps and played on, and my room with my first "big girl bed".

For a place I lived in for such a short time I am amazed at the amount of those puzzle pieces I find: the field where we discovered soccer was not my thing (but I was very good at picking flowers), the dance studio where we discovered that dance was also not my thing, the children's museum (my favorite place), probably the worlds smallest zoo, the beach where I played for hours, my elementary school that I visit daily because of babysitting duties, and I am sure there are more at the places I haven't even visited yet. 

Then there are the pieces that stay with you, hidden until a sudden memory brings them bursting out. For me it can happen when somebody mentions a potato bug and I immediately remember the poem my mom used to tell us or while rocking out with the kids to Pandora and Down by the Bay comes on, or, even better, You are my Sunshine which my grandmother sang to me constantly. I find these the most startling pieces of the puzzle to find because you don't know what is going to trigger those flashbacks and feelings, but I so love it when it happens.

I love finding these puzzle pieces, they bring a sense of calm to my crazy world. I love when I drop the munchkins off at school and see that it really hasn't changed. 

By no means have I found myself. I still feel hopelessly lost but maybe by finding the pieces to the puzzle I am slowly finding myself.

Selfish Can Be Good

I made a new friend, one that I'm worried is heading down the same slippery road I'm already trying to navigate. It terrifies me because this is not something that's easy to escape from. During our many talks I've thought about how I wish I could take her pain away and just make it disappear forever. But then I also think about all of the other people that feel this way about themselves or that have any number of illnesses both mental and physical and it makes me sad.

I try to be as unselfish as possible. I try to give all I can and take very little. I would rather solve everyone else's problems before I even think about my own. But sometimes this makes me selfish because I would sacrifice my own health for others to have theirs. I would gladly take any sickness from everyone if it meant problems could be solved. I would happily live my life in pain if nobody else ever had to feel pain. But as thoughtful and unselfish as these thoughts are they are also somewhat selfish. They are selfish because my friends and family wouldn't want me to suffer. And if I'm suffering chances are that they are suffering as well. And so the cycle would begin again with them suffering because I am and me not wanting anyone to suffer.

I know that part of helping others is to also help yourself. I must recover before I can help others do the same. But that doesn't mean that I can't wish things were different. 

I don't know if these thoughts are bad or good but I do know that as selfish as they may be to my family being selfish, at least in this sense, is good.