It feels like no matter what I plan for our meals, everything I put in my mouth is unhealthy and bad for me.
Can't eat raw veggies if I have dressing with them.
Can't eat cake, because........well, it's cake.
Can't eat a casserole because it has potatoes and/cheese in it.
Can't eat that soup because it has meat. Or butter. Or both.
Nope, no rice for it, carbs are bad.
Fruit is sugar. Sugar bad.
So raw, plain vegetables it is. Meaning I'm going to be hungry all the damn time.
I fucking hate this.
Saturday, May 20, 2017
Monday, August 31, 2015
Out With A . . . . . . . Bang?
It's been a very, very long time since I posted (And FYI, it's extremely unlikely I will ever post another post again. I
mean come on, it's been over a year since my last one. So don't get
your hopes up). And for various reasons. One of them being that, as a stay-at-home mom, I find my day-to-day life to be uninteresting and thus difficult to find something to write about. Another reason is that I don't write as a catharsis, or because I just have to. I write because I like to pretend that people out there actually care to hear what I have to say. Though I seriously question that some days, I know, deep down, that YOU know that I'm always right. You just don't want to admit it.
Another reason for not writing is that I've found as my daughter gets older, I have less and less time to spend on writing. It's not important for me, so it got dropped.
The biggest reason, however, is that for the last few years, I have been dealing with a very hard (VERY HARD), very emotional (VERY emotional), and drastically life-altering change, which I did not feel capable of sharing here. I've been hiding this change from the majority of people I know for the last almost 3 years, though I've certainly dropped lots of what I felt were very obvious hints everywhere, especially on Facebook. But I've never come right out and said it, because I was afraid of the fall-out and the judgement. I honestly was hoping to never have to say anything & that people would just figure it out, but I've now come to the decision that I do need to. Even if it's only because I need to know that I am living my "authentic life" (not my favorite phrase, but it fits here). My friends are pretty smart, so I'm guessing that this won't come as a surprise to any of them, but I need to do this for me. So, the big reveal (oh man, deep breath, you can do this. STOP SHAKING, HANDS!):
I've left the LDS church.
Yep, that's right. I'm no longer Mormon. I do not believe it to be the "only true church". For my husbands sake, who is still a believing member, I haven't removed my name from the records, but I haven't attended in years (not since my daughter was about 2 and a half, and I took my garments off just before her 2nd birthday) and haven't believed in even longer. I do not consider myself a member even though I know that I officially remain one. But why did I wait so long to say something? What am I afraid of? Well, judgement, to be frank. Some members don't handle it well when someone they know leaves the church. I have heard some horrible stories, first hand, of what has happened to people for leaving: divorce, being disowned by parents and siblings, ostracization by friends and neighbors of them and sometimes of their kids, insults, people no longer trusting them to be good people, accusations, dismissal, the list goes on and on. Sometimes Mormons can be horrible to those who don't agree with their beliefs. For a long time I was willing to pretend that nothing had actually changed because I didn't want to be thought less of. But now, I'm ready to move on. I'm no longer afraid of the judgement of people whose opinion of me doesn't actually matter. People can think what they want, but one thing I have learned in this journey is that MY opinion of myself is what is most important. I can honestly say that I look in the mirror everyday and I am proud of who I am. And that's what matters.
In my explanation for why, I'm going to be borrowing heavily from this article written by Brittney because she writes what I felt and feel much, much better than I can (and more concisely. I tend to vomit words. I'm sure you readers haven't noticed that, though). Anything in quotes and italicized comes directly from that article.
I had originally written out a very, very long post here detailing my trip down the road that led me out of the church. But I deleted it. I feel like writing all that was an attempt to justify my decision to leave, not explain it. And I don't need to justify it. But basically, it started because I felt completely and utterly unhappy with my life in the church. I felt stagnant. I hated feeling this way, and I completely blamed myself.
"I have always been the kind of person who wanted to do the Right thing. It didn’t matter to me if the Right thing was hard, or unpopular, because Right was Right, and I wanted to do the Right thing. In every aspect of my life I tried to do the Right thing, but especially when it came to my Faith."
I can't say I was never inactive, because for a couple of years, due to severe depression and an almost debilitating fear of people and crowds, I technically was since my attendance was so sporadic. But even though I was not attending my meetings all the time, I was still faithful. Every Sunday, I read Ensign and General Conference articles, or church books. I made sure to listen to "appropriate" Sunday music and do other Sunday "appropriate" things to keep the day holy as best I could. I was still miserable, but I did my best until I was able to go back to church. And once I was able to, I was happy for a long time. I believe that I was right where I needed to be. I was faithful and living my life the way I was "supposed" to. Yet even so, I never had what Brittney calls my "Joseph Smith Moment". Not even when I was very first investigating the church. While I do recall feeling like I knew the church to be true, I never felt that way about Joseph Smith, or any of the men who claimed to be prophets and apostles of the church. And every time I specifically prayed about it, to receive that knowledge, I got a very very horrible feeling in my heart and my brain would just shut down. I would just turn away from that feeling and tell myself, "Well, if the Book of Mormon is true (which I felt I had received confirmation of), than Joseph Smith must obviously be a prophet, as well as those after him. Because if he's not, then neither is the Book of Mormon, and neither are they. And I have a testimony about the Book of Mormon, so I must have one that he's a prophet." Oh, cognitive dissonance, what a beast you are. And then, through many twists and turns and discoveries and realizations, I ended up doubting everything. And I really really didn't want to. But there it was, this huge question mark in my head and in my heart. So, in the words of Brittney again:
"I did everything I was told to do…Read my scriptures…Go to all my meetings…And the Temple…And all the extras . . . . , and of course I prayed. I prayed so much and so fervently that by the time I was done, I was usually a quivering pile of jelly on my bed. I asked the Lord, I pleaded, I implored, but always with the acceptance that His will be done, and if I didn’t receive my answer, then I assumed that meant the answer was to try harder…and so I did."
"I never cried so much, lost so much sleep, spent more time on my knees, . . . . and in communication with God than I have during these days. I read, pondered, searched, read more, pondered more, prayed, fasted, read, pondered, prayed, pleaded, supplicated, cried, searched, read, pondered, probed, until I felt as though my head and heart were going to explode."
"Now, looking back, I realize that I was approaching this whole journey with the baseline belief that the church was true, and that I only needed to have that belief confirmed to me. Just like a bad scientist, I began my experiment with the results already in mind, and yet even though I already knew what I wanted to be true, I could never get to a point where I felt like the evidence confirmed the hypothesis…I can’t even describe how disheartening and frustrating this wa[s] for me. I blamed myself of course, I figured that it was because something was broken in me, or that God was testing me, or that I wasn’t worthy of the answers I was seeking."
And one day, when I was utterly exhausted from the attempt to regain my testimony, I mentally stepped back from everything and realized, I didn't want to get it back. I had been so very very unhappy in the church for a long time, and I had blamed myself for that. But when I mentally took the church out of my life, the relief was immediate and enormous. The pressure to be someone that I was not, that I no longer was and hadn't been for years, was gone. I felt totally free. And that realization made me start to think. But I still didn't want to give up, not yet. I was still afraid of being wrong. Because if I was, the Mormon God demands a lot of penance for disbelief (depending on who you ask, though there is always some form).
So I attempted the change the way I looked at the church. I tried to approach it as I had as a 15 year old teenager, like I had never heard of it before. I asked for the truth. Was the church true? Was Joseph Smith a prophet? I re-read the pamphlets I had received as an investigator, read all the passages in the Book of Mormon and Bible that had previously been faith-affirming for me, cried and prayed, cried and prayed, and then cried and prayed some more. And the answer I got, over and over and over again, is that I needed to do what was going to make me happiest. So I asked what that was, and I got no answer. None at all. I had to figure that out on my own. And so I thought about it. Read things. Listened to things. Paid attention (finally) to what I was actually feeling, instead of looking for what I was supposed to be feeling. And I soon realized that anything I read or listened to or thought about that had to do with the church and remaining a faithful member filled me with fear, sadness, and yes, sometimes anger. Anything that had to do with moving on made me feel happy, confident, and like I was facing forward instead of looking back. And so, eventually, I did. It was a very gradual, yet at the same time very sudden, change for me. But I have never ever felt so much joy, or felt so much freedom within my life, as I now feel. I am finally allowed to be my own person, whatever that may mean, without fear of miss-stepping or displeasing some constantly displeased higher authority.
Am I angry with the church? Absolutely not. The last ward I attended regularly (the one I would currently be in if I was still going) was amazing to me. One of the least judgmental ones I have ever attended. I have had numerous amazing and wonderful and uplifting experiences within the church. I am grateful that I was a member for a time. The church helped me with a very difficult time in my life, one that I'm fairly certain I would not have survived if I had not been a member. Being a member of the church brought me to my wonderful and amazing husband (who has been nothing but supportive of me during this time), which also means I got my wonderful and amazing daughter who I can not live without. And these experiences made it very difficult for me to leave. Yet it had become like a item of clothing I had grown out of, that I was uncomfortable in, and no amount of altering was going to make it fit again. There are many good people in the church, and there are many bad people in the church. You will find this in any organization that you come across. People are people, and everyone is good in some capacity, and everyone is bad in another. The world is not black and white, no matter how desperately some want it to be. As Brittney says, and which I completely agree with:
"I know that there are people out there of other faiths and people of no faith who are just as good, and kind, and Christ like as the good and kind and Christ like members I have met within the church. I believe that the concepts of Goodness and Kindness are not exclusive to any one religion or denomination, they are in all of us, and they are a choice that we make every minute of every day. I believe what Christ said when He warned us against letting our pride lead us to feelings of superiority over any other man, denomination, or creed. I believe what Joseph Smith said when he said that we should allow each man to worship in the fashion that resonated within his own conscious. I believe people are good, but that they don’t always act good, and I believe that deep down, we are all just striving to find purpose and meaning in this life, because none of us really knows what is coming next. We are all just trying to make sense of it all, and if the Church is where you find your sense, then I fully support and endorse you in staying and in being the best dang Mormon the world has ever seen."
While I currently can not imagine any situation that would bring me back to full belief in the church after all the things I have learned and discovered, I will not discount that event happening. Because for 15 years, I believed that I would never, ever leave the church. I have certainly learned that "never say never" is one of the truest phrases I have ever heard. And I hope that those believing members will welcome me back with open arms. Just as I will be there with open arms for anyone who has their own faith crisis. I will help you pick through the mess and the emotions and the pain, and whether you decide to stay or leave, I will rejoice with you in whatever you realize makes you happy.
Now, if you choose to comment, whether here, on Facebook, or in real life, be courteous and respectful. Treat me (and everyone else) the way you would want to be treated if YOU were the one writing this post. Mean comments will be deleted here, and ignored elsewhere.
Another reason for not writing is that I've found as my daughter gets older, I have less and less time to spend on writing. It's not important for me, so it got dropped.
The biggest reason, however, is that for the last few years, I have been dealing with a very hard (VERY HARD), very emotional (VERY emotional), and drastically life-altering change, which I did not feel capable of sharing here. I've been hiding this change from the majority of people I know for the last almost 3 years, though I've certainly dropped lots of what I felt were very obvious hints everywhere, especially on Facebook. But I've never come right out and said it, because I was afraid of the fall-out and the judgement. I honestly was hoping to never have to say anything & that people would just figure it out, but I've now come to the decision that I do need to. Even if it's only because I need to know that I am living my "authentic life" (not my favorite phrase, but it fits here). My friends are pretty smart, so I'm guessing that this won't come as a surprise to any of them, but I need to do this for me. So, the big reveal (oh man, deep breath, you can do this. STOP SHAKING, HANDS!):
I've left the LDS church.
Yep, that's right. I'm no longer Mormon. I do not believe it to be the "only true church". For my husbands sake, who is still a believing member, I haven't removed my name from the records, but I haven't attended in years (not since my daughter was about 2 and a half, and I took my garments off just before her 2nd birthday) and haven't believed in even longer. I do not consider myself a member even though I know that I officially remain one. But why did I wait so long to say something? What am I afraid of? Well, judgement, to be frank. Some members don't handle it well when someone they know leaves the church. I have heard some horrible stories, first hand, of what has happened to people for leaving: divorce, being disowned by parents and siblings, ostracization by friends and neighbors of them and sometimes of their kids, insults, people no longer trusting them to be good people, accusations, dismissal, the list goes on and on. Sometimes Mormons can be horrible to those who don't agree with their beliefs. For a long time I was willing to pretend that nothing had actually changed because I didn't want to be thought less of. But now, I'm ready to move on. I'm no longer afraid of the judgement of people whose opinion of me doesn't actually matter. People can think what they want, but one thing I have learned in this journey is that MY opinion of myself is what is most important. I can honestly say that I look in the mirror everyday and I am proud of who I am. And that's what matters.
In my explanation for why, I'm going to be borrowing heavily from this article written by Brittney because she writes what I felt and feel much, much better than I can (and more concisely. I tend to vomit words. I'm sure you readers haven't noticed that, though). Anything in quotes and italicized comes directly from that article.
I had originally written out a very, very long post here detailing my trip down the road that led me out of the church. But I deleted it. I feel like writing all that was an attempt to justify my decision to leave, not explain it. And I don't need to justify it. But basically, it started because I felt completely and utterly unhappy with my life in the church. I felt stagnant. I hated feeling this way, and I completely blamed myself.
"I have always been the kind of person who wanted to do the Right thing. It didn’t matter to me if the Right thing was hard, or unpopular, because Right was Right, and I wanted to do the Right thing. In every aspect of my life I tried to do the Right thing, but especially when it came to my Faith."
I can't say I was never inactive, because for a couple of years, due to severe depression and an almost debilitating fear of people and crowds, I technically was since my attendance was so sporadic. But even though I was not attending my meetings all the time, I was still faithful. Every Sunday, I read Ensign and General Conference articles, or church books. I made sure to listen to "appropriate" Sunday music and do other Sunday "appropriate" things to keep the day holy as best I could. I was still miserable, but I did my best until I was able to go back to church. And once I was able to, I was happy for a long time. I believe that I was right where I needed to be. I was faithful and living my life the way I was "supposed" to. Yet even so, I never had what Brittney calls my "Joseph Smith Moment". Not even when I was very first investigating the church. While I do recall feeling like I knew the church to be true, I never felt that way about Joseph Smith, or any of the men who claimed to be prophets and apostles of the church. And every time I specifically prayed about it, to receive that knowledge, I got a very very horrible feeling in my heart and my brain would just shut down. I would just turn away from that feeling and tell myself, "Well, if the Book of Mormon is true (which I felt I had received confirmation of), than Joseph Smith must obviously be a prophet, as well as those after him. Because if he's not, then neither is the Book of Mormon, and neither are they. And I have a testimony about the Book of Mormon, so I must have one that he's a prophet." Oh, cognitive dissonance, what a beast you are. And then, through many twists and turns and discoveries and realizations, I ended up doubting everything. And I really really didn't want to. But there it was, this huge question mark in my head and in my heart. So, in the words of Brittney again:
"I did everything I was told to do…Read my scriptures…Go to all my meetings…And the Temple…And all the extras . . . . , and of course I prayed. I prayed so much and so fervently that by the time I was done, I was usually a quivering pile of jelly on my bed. I asked the Lord, I pleaded, I implored, but always with the acceptance that His will be done, and if I didn’t receive my answer, then I assumed that meant the answer was to try harder…and so I did."
"I never cried so much, lost so much sleep, spent more time on my knees, . . . . and in communication with God than I have during these days. I read, pondered, searched, read more, pondered more, prayed, fasted, read, pondered, prayed, pleaded, supplicated, cried, searched, read, pondered, probed, until I felt as though my head and heart were going to explode."
"Now, looking back, I realize that I was approaching this whole journey with the baseline belief that the church was true, and that I only needed to have that belief confirmed to me. Just like a bad scientist, I began my experiment with the results already in mind, and yet even though I already knew what I wanted to be true, I could never get to a point where I felt like the evidence confirmed the hypothesis…I can’t even describe how disheartening and frustrating this wa[s] for me. I blamed myself of course, I figured that it was because something was broken in me, or that God was testing me, or that I wasn’t worthy of the answers I was seeking."
And one day, when I was utterly exhausted from the attempt to regain my testimony, I mentally stepped back from everything and realized, I didn't want to get it back. I had been so very very unhappy in the church for a long time, and I had blamed myself for that. But when I mentally took the church out of my life, the relief was immediate and enormous. The pressure to be someone that I was not, that I no longer was and hadn't been for years, was gone. I felt totally free. And that realization made me start to think. But I still didn't want to give up, not yet. I was still afraid of being wrong. Because if I was, the Mormon God demands a lot of penance for disbelief (depending on who you ask, though there is always some form).
So I attempted the change the way I looked at the church. I tried to approach it as I had as a 15 year old teenager, like I had never heard of it before. I asked for the truth. Was the church true? Was Joseph Smith a prophet? I re-read the pamphlets I had received as an investigator, read all the passages in the Book of Mormon and Bible that had previously been faith-affirming for me, cried and prayed, cried and prayed, and then cried and prayed some more. And the answer I got, over and over and over again, is that I needed to do what was going to make me happiest. So I asked what that was, and I got no answer. None at all. I had to figure that out on my own. And so I thought about it. Read things. Listened to things. Paid attention (finally) to what I was actually feeling, instead of looking for what I was supposed to be feeling. And I soon realized that anything I read or listened to or thought about that had to do with the church and remaining a faithful member filled me with fear, sadness, and yes, sometimes anger. Anything that had to do with moving on made me feel happy, confident, and like I was facing forward instead of looking back. And so, eventually, I did. It was a very gradual, yet at the same time very sudden, change for me. But I have never ever felt so much joy, or felt so much freedom within my life, as I now feel. I am finally allowed to be my own person, whatever that may mean, without fear of miss-stepping or displeasing some constantly displeased higher authority.
Am I angry with the church? Absolutely not. The last ward I attended regularly (the one I would currently be in if I was still going) was amazing to me. One of the least judgmental ones I have ever attended. I have had numerous amazing and wonderful and uplifting experiences within the church. I am grateful that I was a member for a time. The church helped me with a very difficult time in my life, one that I'm fairly certain I would not have survived if I had not been a member. Being a member of the church brought me to my wonderful and amazing husband (who has been nothing but supportive of me during this time), which also means I got my wonderful and amazing daughter who I can not live without. And these experiences made it very difficult for me to leave. Yet it had become like a item of clothing I had grown out of, that I was uncomfortable in, and no amount of altering was going to make it fit again. There are many good people in the church, and there are many bad people in the church. You will find this in any organization that you come across. People are people, and everyone is good in some capacity, and everyone is bad in another. The world is not black and white, no matter how desperately some want it to be. As Brittney says, and which I completely agree with:
"I know that there are people out there of other faiths and people of no faith who are just as good, and kind, and Christ like as the good and kind and Christ like members I have met within the church. I believe that the concepts of Goodness and Kindness are not exclusive to any one religion or denomination, they are in all of us, and they are a choice that we make every minute of every day. I believe what Christ said when He warned us against letting our pride lead us to feelings of superiority over any other man, denomination, or creed. I believe what Joseph Smith said when he said that we should allow each man to worship in the fashion that resonated within his own conscious. I believe people are good, but that they don’t always act good, and I believe that deep down, we are all just striving to find purpose and meaning in this life, because none of us really knows what is coming next. We are all just trying to make sense of it all, and if the Church is where you find your sense, then I fully support and endorse you in staying and in being the best dang Mormon the world has ever seen."
While I currently can not imagine any situation that would bring me back to full belief in the church after all the things I have learned and discovered, I will not discount that event happening. Because for 15 years, I believed that I would never, ever leave the church. I have certainly learned that "never say never" is one of the truest phrases I have ever heard. And I hope that those believing members will welcome me back with open arms. Just as I will be there with open arms for anyone who has their own faith crisis. I will help you pick through the mess and the emotions and the pain, and whether you decide to stay or leave, I will rejoice with you in whatever you realize makes you happy.
Now, if you choose to comment, whether here, on Facebook, or in real life, be courteous and respectful. Treat me (and everyone else) the way you would want to be treated if YOU were the one writing this post. Mean comments will be deleted here, and ignored elsewhere.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
And There Were Three In The Family
I learned something in the last five days.
I definitely do not want to have more kids.
I know, I know. My last post was all about my self-induced guilt trip about not having more kids. And I honestly think there is a lot more to that guilt than just me feeling bad that poor Baby Cakes doesn't have anyone to play with but me, and I'm constantly telling her no, because I have more important things to do, like vacuum, or be on my computer looking at Reddit. (I get an A+ in my Mommy Classes for sure!) The Mormon culture that is all around me (due to location), as well as the fact that I was pretty heavily involved in it during my formative teen years, I'm positive has a lot to do with that (we must multiply and replenish the earth, don't you know). If I had joined as an adult, I don't know if that particular teaching would have stuck with me as much. And there is some guilt stemming from the fact that, out of 3 children, I'm the only one to produce a grandchild. It's a stupid reason, but hey, it is one. And there are a few other minor reasons that I'm not going to bother thinking about right now, because I already posted about it and I'm not a dog that sniffs (and possibly eats) what I regurgitate.
So, how do I know I absolutely, do not ever, want more kids? My period started today, 5 days late. And I was all sorts of freaking out the whole time. I went from scared, to pissed, to a kind of resigned and depressed acceptance, to relief when it started, in those 5 days. I never said a word to The Man about it either, because I was really hoping I wasn't. I mean, I just didn't feel pregnant, not that that means anything. That feeling certainly wasn't comforting me at all. Because how many stories are out there of women who go into labor who claim they didn't even know they were pregnant? I know I've heard of a few.
But my instant reaction I had when I realized I was late, which was of fear and "Oh my god I don't want this!", really answered whatever questions I had left bouncing around in my head about whether we should just have another one.
I'm done.
We're done.
And now I can honestly start working on getting over the unnecessary guilt about it, and start proudly owning our choice.
I definitely do not want to have more kids.
I know, I know. My last post was all about my self-induced guilt trip about not having more kids. And I honestly think there is a lot more to that guilt than just me feeling bad that poor Baby Cakes doesn't have anyone to play with but me, and I'm constantly telling her no, because I have more important things to do, like vacuum, or be on my computer looking at Reddit. (I get an A+ in my Mommy Classes for sure!) The Mormon culture that is all around me (due to location), as well as the fact that I was pretty heavily involved in it during my formative teen years, I'm positive has a lot to do with that (we must multiply and replenish the earth, don't you know). If I had joined as an adult, I don't know if that particular teaching would have stuck with me as much. And there is some guilt stemming from the fact that, out of 3 children, I'm the only one to produce a grandchild. It's a stupid reason, but hey, it is one. And there are a few other minor reasons that I'm not going to bother thinking about right now, because I already posted about it and I'm not a dog that sniffs (and possibly eats) what I regurgitate.
So, how do I know I absolutely, do not ever, want more kids? My period started today, 5 days late. And I was all sorts of freaking out the whole time. I went from scared, to pissed, to a kind of resigned and depressed acceptance, to relief when it started, in those 5 days. I never said a word to The Man about it either, because I was really hoping I wasn't. I mean, I just didn't feel pregnant, not that that means anything. That feeling certainly wasn't comforting me at all. Because how many stories are out there of women who go into labor who claim they didn't even know they were pregnant? I know I've heard of a few.
But my instant reaction I had when I realized I was late, which was of fear and "Oh my god I don't want this!", really answered whatever questions I had left bouncing around in my head about whether we should just have another one.
I'm done.
We're done.
And now I can honestly start working on getting over the unnecessary guilt about it, and start proudly owning our choice.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Rhetorical Posting
For various reasons, I've had on my mind our decision to only have one kid. All sorts of What If's are going through my head.
What if I'm doing the wrong thing by only having Baby Cakes and stopping there?
What if I'm hurting her in some way?
Would she be happier having sibling?
What if I'm messing her up?
What if she grows up to be miserable and unhappy because she's an only child, and she hates us for it?
What if we do have another so she'll have a friend and they end up hating each other?
What if, what if, what if?
I have 2 siblings, and even though it was minefield a lot of times, there were good times too. I have good memories of my brothers, as well as bad. And it's pretty awesome having them to talk to. Sometimes, only they can really understand what I'm feeling about certain things. And I love my brothers and would do anything for them. But I won't do that.
But, regardless of the fact that I love them, we are not close. The hard times we went through did not band us together in sibling solidarity, it only separated us, especially between me and my older brother (we are only just now starting to talk on the phone and actually have things to talk about). And the only explanation I can come up with is our personalities. We are all very, very different.
Older Brother is punk, in every sense of the word. He has been since high school (we are all now in our early 30's). He does the hair, the clothes, the philosophies, the lifestyle.
I'm this weird mix of conventional and unconventional. I'm a people-pleaser, as well as someone who couldn't give a flying rat fart what someone thinks. I'm a quintessential Gemini.
Little Brother is laid back, easy going, a peace maker. He doesn't like conflict, especially in the family, and never has. He's the only one of all of us that consistently gets along with everybody in the family. He's also the most extroverted out of the 3 of us.
The Man has 2 siblings. One doesn't speak to us, for unknown reasons, and the other, well, let's just say the relationship was extremely rocky for a long time, but is now very awesome.
So I also know that having a sibling does not mean you will automatically have a bestie for life.
But I was also never lonely, not in the sense that I think only's can be. I may not have been friends with my brothers, but at least they were around. And I think that's were this wondering is coming from. It would break my heart to know that my little girl is lonely, when I know I could do something about it.
My reasons for not having another?
- I couldn't handle it emotionally or mentally. Adia is super sensitive to people being sad. I'm not sure how she would handle those moments when a baby cries for no apparent reason for hours, other than crying herself (which is what she currently does). And if that is how she would handle it, my clothing choice for every day would be a straight jacket.
- With The Man doing 5 - 6 hours of homework a night, there is not as much help there as I would like (though he does offer all the time. With how much homework he has to do, I try to not take him up on it too often). And what if, after he graduates, he gets a job where he doesn't even come home until dinner time, or maybe even later? I remember how frustrating and difficult it was to make dinner with a crying baby, even with a wrap. And how hard it can be now to make dinner with a 3 year old wanting to play with me (but doesn't want to help). Put the 2 together and we would be getting take out every night.
- Teething and potty training. Need I say more?
- Lack of sleeping, and not being able to nap with the baby because I have a toddler to take care of too. And I am a terrible person if I don't get my sleep. My patience is gone and I snap way to easily, even though I try very hard not to. I just wouldn't be the mom I want to be due to lack of sleep. I know this from experience.
- Not having the time to myself I need every night because I have to go feed/change/rock a crying baby every 2 or so hours.
- I love, love, love being able to give my full attention to Baby Cakes when I'm playing with her. I love knowing that I can be the kind of mom I want to be since I don't have to worry about more than her. I'm really not that good at this whole parenting thing, but I love how happy it makes her for me to spend time with her (though it can be soooooooooo boring). And I love that I can give that to her more than I would be able to with another.
- Deep down, I know that I'm very very happy with just one, and I feel it's very important for the parents to feel that way.
- But the biggest reason why I don't want another one is simply that I just don't. I have no desire to get pregnant (in fact I'm actually a little happy when I get my period every month), I have no desire to have a baby to hold that I can't give back. I just don't have that drive, that feeling, that want, that I had before I had Baby Cakes.
- Oh, and The Man doesn't want another either.
For those of you out there with more than one kid, and who want(ed) more than one, I wholeheartedly commend you. You are more mentally stable than me.
What if I'm doing the wrong thing by only having Baby Cakes and stopping there?
What if I'm hurting her in some way?
Would she be happier having sibling?
What if I'm messing her up?
What if she grows up to be miserable and unhappy because she's an only child, and she hates us for it?
What if we do have another so she'll have a friend and they end up hating each other?
What if, what if, what if?
I have 2 siblings, and even though it was minefield a lot of times, there were good times too. I have good memories of my brothers, as well as bad. And it's pretty awesome having them to talk to. Sometimes, only they can really understand what I'm feeling about certain things. And I love my brothers and would do anything for them. But I won't do that.
But, regardless of the fact that I love them, we are not close. The hard times we went through did not band us together in sibling solidarity, it only separated us, especially between me and my older brother (we are only just now starting to talk on the phone and actually have things to talk about). And the only explanation I can come up with is our personalities. We are all very, very different.
Older Brother is punk, in every sense of the word. He has been since high school (we are all now in our early 30's). He does the hair, the clothes, the philosophies, the lifestyle.
I'm this weird mix of conventional and unconventional. I'm a people-pleaser, as well as someone who couldn't give a flying rat fart what someone thinks. I'm a quintessential Gemini.
Little Brother is laid back, easy going, a peace maker. He doesn't like conflict, especially in the family, and never has. He's the only one of all of us that consistently gets along with everybody in the family. He's also the most extroverted out of the 3 of us.
The Man has 2 siblings. One doesn't speak to us, for unknown reasons, and the other, well, let's just say the relationship was extremely rocky for a long time, but is now very awesome.
So I also know that having a sibling does not mean you will automatically have a bestie for life.
But I was also never lonely, not in the sense that I think only's can be. I may not have been friends with my brothers, but at least they were around. And I think that's were this wondering is coming from. It would break my heart to know that my little girl is lonely, when I know I could do something about it.
My reasons for not having another?
- I couldn't handle it emotionally or mentally. Adia is super sensitive to people being sad. I'm not sure how she would handle those moments when a baby cries for no apparent reason for hours, other than crying herself (which is what she currently does). And if that is how she would handle it, my clothing choice for every day would be a straight jacket.
- With The Man doing 5 - 6 hours of homework a night, there is not as much help there as I would like (though he does offer all the time. With how much homework he has to do, I try to not take him up on it too often). And what if, after he graduates, he gets a job where he doesn't even come home until dinner time, or maybe even later? I remember how frustrating and difficult it was to make dinner with a crying baby, even with a wrap. And how hard it can be now to make dinner with a 3 year old wanting to play with me (but doesn't want to help). Put the 2 together and we would be getting take out every night.
- Teething and potty training. Need I say more?
- Lack of sleeping, and not being able to nap with the baby because I have a toddler to take care of too. And I am a terrible person if I don't get my sleep. My patience is gone and I snap way to easily, even though I try very hard not to. I just wouldn't be the mom I want to be due to lack of sleep. I know this from experience.
- Not having the time to myself I need every night because I have to go feed/change/rock a crying baby every 2 or so hours.
- I love, love, love being able to give my full attention to Baby Cakes when I'm playing with her. I love knowing that I can be the kind of mom I want to be since I don't have to worry about more than her. I'm really not that good at this whole parenting thing, but I love how happy it makes her for me to spend time with her (though it can be soooooooooo boring). And I love that I can give that to her more than I would be able to with another.
- Deep down, I know that I'm very very happy with just one, and I feel it's very important for the parents to feel that way.
- But the biggest reason why I don't want another one is simply that I just don't. I have no desire to get pregnant (in fact I'm actually a little happy when I get my period every month), I have no desire to have a baby to hold that I can't give back. I just don't have that drive, that feeling, that want, that I had before I had Baby Cakes.
- Oh, and The Man doesn't want another either.
For those of you out there with more than one kid, and who want(ed) more than one, I wholeheartedly commend you. You are more mentally stable than me.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
My I'd-Rather-Be-Playing-Video-Games Cleaning Guide
So I'm not the most domestic person in the world. I hate pretty much anything that has to do with being domestic, from cooking to cleaning to doing any parenting that requires me getting off the couch. But since I'm pretty darn good at cooking, and my child is perfect and thus easy to parent, this post is about cleaning. Which I suck at. In fact, cleaning is the thing I hate to do most, and before Baby Cakes came along, it was the thing I did the least. My time was much too taken up with video games and tv to bother cleaning. I would wait until I couldn't stand the mess anymore, and then go on a cleaning spree, which usually happened every couple of months. In fact, my usual signal that it was time to clean was that the dust bunnies and clumps of dog hair in the corners would start talking to me and eating all our food.
Even after Baby Cakes came along, my cleaning schedule didn't change, because, well, she didn't do much. It was when she started crawling, then walking, that I started looking for some kind of cleaning checklist that I could stand to do. It was annoying seeing her so covered in dog and cat hair that she looked like an Ewok. Still, it took me a long time to find exactly what I wanted: A cleaning checklist that would keep my house at least looking clean, but that wouldn't take me all day to do. Most cleaning checklists I found SAID they only took 15 minutes a day, but in all actuality, it would have taken me all day to do the chores. Very frequently they were "deep cleaning" chores included, like wiping down baseboards and cupboards, as well as the regular vacuuming, dusting, and mopping and you were supposed to do this every day. Now, I suppose if you had no kids at home during the day and no job and you did it every single day without fail, some of these lists really would only take 15 minutes, but there was no way it would only take me 15 minutes to do them. There were also usually about 5 - 10 different chores to do every day, as well as weekly, monthly, and seasonal chores. Basically, my whole life would have been spent cleaning. Which, if that's what you want to do, great, do it! But that's not what I want to do. I want to play video games, do something crafty (the one "domestic" thing I like to do), and maybe play with my daughter too. I'm not one of those parents that is able to have my 3 year old do any cleaning and be satisfied with it, so bonding over cleaning doesn't happen. I have to do it myself, and I hate doing it, so my standards for a cleaning checklist are pretty high. I finally found one, and even though I can't remember where I got it from now, I'm going to tell you what it is here. Sorry, no pretty graphics. I don't know how to do that. I know, I'm a bad blogger (if someone wants to volunteer their services, I'll happily pay you in cookies).
Basically what I wanted was a list that gave me 1 or 2 simple chores to do every day that would at least make my house LOOK clean, if not actually clean it. This did not include doing dishes, that is one chore that I do every morning (takes about 10 minutes, unloading and loading, in case you're wondering. Thankfully, I only have to do it once a day most days). I finally found a list that had one chore every day that included optional once a week deep cleaning of one thing, which I choose to ignore for now. I started following it, and after some tweaking, here is my daily chore list (you will notice that dusting is not on this list. This is because, no matter what I use, dusting makes The Man's asthma act up, so it is something done only when I can't stand it anymore, instead of regularly):
Monday: Laundry
Now, The Man is in charge of doing our laundry (which he does on the weekend), so I do Baby Cakes' laundry and strip the beds and wash the sheets and towels. I also put clean sheets on (usually right before going to bed). While this chore technically takes most of the day, I'm not standing over the washing machine all day (thank you technology), so total time is probably around 15 - 30 minutes, depending on how much "help" I'm getting from Baby Cakes.
Tuesday: Put away the laundry
No, I don't fold the laundry first. Wrinkles are not something I worry about. I pair socks as I put them away, and I only fold pants and towels so they'll fit in the drawers better. Probably takes me 15 - 30 minutes, again depending on how much "help" I receive.
Wednesday: Vacuum
This is the longest chore for the week. And I hate doing it. If I don't get interrupted, I can get it done in 30 - 45 minutes, but it usually takes about 60 - 90 minutes because I have to pick up toys off the floor before I can vacuum. So I guess that chore gets done too, because we really suck at having Baby Cakes pick up her toys every night. I also have to wait until Baby Cakes goes to a different level of the house, because she doesn't like how loud the vacuum is. This is a chore that gets skipped about once a month due to not feeling like it. Also, I vacuum every floor, including the ones not carpeted. The vacuum cuts down on flying dust much better than sweeping does, and it's a lot faster and not as messy.
Thursday: Clean the kitchen
For me, this means wiping down the stove, sink, counters, table, and chairs. I also mop the floor if it needs it and I feel like it (usually not until my feet are sticking to it). So mopping happens around once a month. This one takes about 15 minutes (20 if I mop), even with "help", because Baby Cakes is pretty good at wiping things.
Friday: Clean the bathrooms
This one is much easier than I think a lot of people realize, especially after you start doing it weekly. I don't mop the floors because they are super small and it's hard to get a mop in there without constantly bumping into things and performing contortionist tricks, so I will spot clean around the toilet when needed (which thanks to the fact that The Man can aim, and Baby Cakes pees sitting down, is pretty rare). I just wipe down the counters, sinks, tub, and toilets. This takes 15 minutes total - 10 minutes in one bathroom, 5 in the other.
Saturday and Sunday: Not a blasted thing (though mowing may start happening here soon).
I've noticed since I've started following this list (I've been doing it for about 6 months, I'd say) that my tolerance for a mess is going down. I'm much more likely to randomly put things away if they aren't where they are supposed to be, and I'm getting better at not setting things down in random places in the first place. Now if I can get The Man to stop doing that, everything would be golden. Anything else that needs cleaning happens as I feel like doing it and Baby Cakes lets me. So I end up with a day that is open to actually do things, like go outside or to the library or park. Or watch tv. You know, important stuff.
Oh yeah, the nice thing about this list (besides the fact that it's easy)? It doesn't make my house look like it could be in Better Homes and Gardens, which helps me remember that my house looking perfect at all times is NOT important. It's important that it's clean, because being sick sucks, but if there are toys on the floor more days than not, or dog hair on the couch every day but Wednesday, eh. What's important is that I have time to beat Diablo 3.
Even after Baby Cakes came along, my cleaning schedule didn't change, because, well, she didn't do much. It was when she started crawling, then walking, that I started looking for some kind of cleaning checklist that I could stand to do. It was annoying seeing her so covered in dog and cat hair that she looked like an Ewok. Still, it took me a long time to find exactly what I wanted: A cleaning checklist that would keep my house at least looking clean, but that wouldn't take me all day to do. Most cleaning checklists I found SAID they only took 15 minutes a day, but in all actuality, it would have taken me all day to do the chores. Very frequently they were "deep cleaning" chores included, like wiping down baseboards and cupboards, as well as the regular vacuuming, dusting, and mopping and you were supposed to do this every day. Now, I suppose if you had no kids at home during the day and no job and you did it every single day without fail, some of these lists really would only take 15 minutes, but there was no way it would only take me 15 minutes to do them. There were also usually about 5 - 10 different chores to do every day, as well as weekly, monthly, and seasonal chores. Basically, my whole life would have been spent cleaning. Which, if that's what you want to do, great, do it! But that's not what I want to do. I want to play video games, do something crafty (the one "domestic" thing I like to do), and maybe play with my daughter too. I'm not one of those parents that is able to have my 3 year old do any cleaning and be satisfied with it, so bonding over cleaning doesn't happen. I have to do it myself, and I hate doing it, so my standards for a cleaning checklist are pretty high. I finally found one, and even though I can't remember where I got it from now, I'm going to tell you what it is here. Sorry, no pretty graphics. I don't know how to do that. I know, I'm a bad blogger (if someone wants to volunteer their services, I'll happily pay you in cookies).
Basically what I wanted was a list that gave me 1 or 2 simple chores to do every day that would at least make my house LOOK clean, if not actually clean it. This did not include doing dishes, that is one chore that I do every morning (takes about 10 minutes, unloading and loading, in case you're wondering. Thankfully, I only have to do it once a day most days). I finally found a list that had one chore every day that included optional once a week deep cleaning of one thing, which I choose to ignore for now. I started following it, and after some tweaking, here is my daily chore list (you will notice that dusting is not on this list. This is because, no matter what I use, dusting makes The Man's asthma act up, so it is something done only when I can't stand it anymore, instead of regularly):
Monday: Laundry
Now, The Man is in charge of doing our laundry (which he does on the weekend), so I do Baby Cakes' laundry and strip the beds and wash the sheets and towels. I also put clean sheets on (usually right before going to bed). While this chore technically takes most of the day, I'm not standing over the washing machine all day (thank you technology), so total time is probably around 15 - 30 minutes, depending on how much "help" I'm getting from Baby Cakes.
Tuesday: Put away the laundry
No, I don't fold the laundry first. Wrinkles are not something I worry about. I pair socks as I put them away, and I only fold pants and towels so they'll fit in the drawers better. Probably takes me 15 - 30 minutes, again depending on how much "help" I receive.
Wednesday: Vacuum
This is the longest chore for the week. And I hate doing it. If I don't get interrupted, I can get it done in 30 - 45 minutes, but it usually takes about 60 - 90 minutes because I have to pick up toys off the floor before I can vacuum. So I guess that chore gets done too, because we really suck at having Baby Cakes pick up her toys every night. I also have to wait until Baby Cakes goes to a different level of the house, because she doesn't like how loud the vacuum is. This is a chore that gets skipped about once a month due to not feeling like it. Also, I vacuum every floor, including the ones not carpeted. The vacuum cuts down on flying dust much better than sweeping does, and it's a lot faster and not as messy.
Thursday: Clean the kitchen
For me, this means wiping down the stove, sink, counters, table, and chairs. I also mop the floor if it needs it and I feel like it (usually not until my feet are sticking to it). So mopping happens around once a month. This one takes about 15 minutes (20 if I mop), even with "help", because Baby Cakes is pretty good at wiping things.
Friday: Clean the bathrooms
This one is much easier than I think a lot of people realize, especially after you start doing it weekly. I don't mop the floors because they are super small and it's hard to get a mop in there without constantly bumping into things and performing contortionist tricks, so I will spot clean around the toilet when needed (which thanks to the fact that The Man can aim, and Baby Cakes pees sitting down, is pretty rare). I just wipe down the counters, sinks, tub, and toilets. This takes 15 minutes total - 10 minutes in one bathroom, 5 in the other.
Saturday and Sunday: Not a blasted thing (though mowing may start happening here soon).
I've noticed since I've started following this list (I've been doing it for about 6 months, I'd say) that my tolerance for a mess is going down. I'm much more likely to randomly put things away if they aren't where they are supposed to be, and I'm getting better at not setting things down in random places in the first place. Now if I can get The Man to stop doing that, everything would be golden. Anything else that needs cleaning happens as I feel like doing it and Baby Cakes lets me. So I end up with a day that is open to actually do things, like go outside or to the library or park. Or watch tv. You know, important stuff.
Oh yeah, the nice thing about this list (besides the fact that it's easy)? It doesn't make my house look like it could be in Better Homes and Gardens, which helps me remember that my house looking perfect at all times is NOT important. It's important that it's clean, because being sick sucks, but if there are toys on the floor more days than not, or dog hair on the couch every day but Wednesday, eh. What's important is that I have time to beat Diablo 3.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Post of Controversy #5 Religious Liberty, Racism, and Homophobia
So today I learned that people tried to use religious freedom to discriminate against different races in their places of business before the Civil Rights Movement, a la the thankfully vetoed bill recently brought to the table in Arizona proposing that those who don't agree with homosexual marriage should be allowed to also refuse to do business with them. They were shot down too, as should any bill trying to "protect" peoples supposed right to discriminate against people they don't happen to like. Discriminating against homosexuals is no different than discriminating against people of different races and cultures. It really isn't. They are people who deserve to be treated with respect and dignity regardless of anything else. You know, the golden rule and all that. You don't really need me to repeat that do you?
In case you needed reminding.
When "Religious Liberty" Was Used To Justify Racism Instead of Homophobia
In case you needed reminding.
When "Religious Liberty" Was Used To Justify Racism Instead of Homophobia
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Accomplishments or Why Compliments on Weight Loss Can Be a Bad Thing
Beauty Redefined has done it again. I'm right on board with this idea of not complimenting someone on how much weight they have lost (unless they bring it up). I know from personal experience how even one comment can send a person on that dangerous pathway of weight and food obsession. In fact, it doesn't even have to be a comment about my weight that does it to me. All it takes is for someone to say that I should/could eat healthier, or that I would feel so much better if I just exercised, or for me to just participate in a conversation about healthy foods and exercise. See, to my brain, healthy food = "good" food = food that won't make you fat. If I'm eating something that could be considered "bad", then that must mean I'm fat, and if I keep eating it, I'm just going to get fatter. And I can't be fat, because what will people think about me? I'm nothing if I'm not skinny. And then I look in the mirror. And I see I'm not skinny. And I hate myself. Everything I've accomplished flies right out the window. I'm not a certified Master Herbalist, I'm fat. I'm not a good mother because my thighs rub together. Why does it matter that I can crochet if my stomach isn't flat? The number of books I've read and the insane amount of random trivia and useless facts I know doesn't matter if I jiggle anywhere. And I honestly can't think of any other accomplishments because now my mind is filled with shame that I'm not skinny anymore. And I'm not putting shame in quotes because I am ashamed. I'm ashamed at failing the one thing that society tells me is the most important thing for me to accomplish: to be skinny enough that I'm a pleasure to look at. The Man's opinion is irrelevant, I have to be approved of by that faceless "society". And I was very good at that for close to 10 years. There is a part of me that hates myself for giving that up so "easily" (that's in quotes because it wasn't). I can't seem to remind that part of me how miserable I was when I was doing everything I could to keep losing weight. How I actually had a friend hug me for eating two slices of pizza. How my nutritionist had to convince me that it was okay to at least drink some Kool-aid to keep my blood sugar up if I wasn't going to eat anything and how horrified I was about it. About how I thought I couldn't buy food because it was a waste of money. How I couldn't ask to stop for food if I was out with friends and was hungry because that meant I was weaker than them, even if I hadn't eaten all day. How I cried one day because I was looking in the mirror and inhaled and instantly "felt" fatter because my ribs expanded. About how my heart hurt sometimes, how I couldn't walk very far without getting winded, how easily I bruised, how I couldn't eat even if I wanted to without permission from someone else. How completely controlled I was by my eating disorder and that damn number on the scale. Nope, what I remember is how many compliments I got on my looks. How many times I heard some other woman lament that she wasn't as skinny as me. That she wished she has my "self-control", or if they knew about the anorexia, that they wished they had it "just a little bit". How I was lucky that I could wear whatever I wanted. How it was because of how skinny I was that guys talked to me, since guys won't talk to "fat" girls. Even though those guys DID talk to those girls. And the worst was hearing from my friends that they hated me because I was so skinny.
THAT is what I consider my biggest accomplishment. And it makes me sick.
THAT is what I consider my biggest accomplishment. And it makes me sick.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Post of Controversy #4
Suck it, homophobes!
P.S. The Man is angrily jealous of their super awesome hair. "Punch them in their nice hair!"
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Post (Link, Really) of Controversy #3
I've been working hard this last year to get over my body image issues, and have been frequenting HAES (Health At Every Size) and positive body image blogs for some moral support. Because of this, I have read a lot about the so-called "childhood obesity crisis". The blogger I'm linking to says how I feel about the situation a lot better than I can (I would just get all ranty and incoherent). The article is really good, so go and read, and learn.
Is The Childhood Obesity Crisis a Big, Fat, Red Herring?
Is The Childhood Obesity Crisis a Big, Fat, Red Herring?
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Happy Saturnalia! (Post of Controversy #2)
http://www.simpletoremember.com/vitals/Christmas_TheRealStory.htm
Let's go singing naked!
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Post of Controversy #1
So I recently, very stupidly, posted a political post on Facebook. Thankfully, nothing major happened and there was no major shit-storm on my wall like happened on other friend's walls that posted similar things. But what little DID happen was the final push I needed to step back from Facebook. I have decided that any and all things that I want to share with the world, controversial or not, will now go on my blog instead of Facebook. Very few people read my blog (at least according to the desert the comment section is), and as such, I feel it is a less public space than Facebook. It seems it may be easier for my more conservative friends to ignore the fact that I disagree with them since they just don't have to come here at all, ever. They won't have to hide me completely on their Facebook walls, and so they can still glut themselves on pictures of my adorable daughter. Because who DOESN'T want to do that?
Honestly, I don't understand why everyone just doesn't think like me. Come on, I'm amazing and perfect. Why fight it? You know I'm right.
Anyway, here is my first Post of Controversy. I don't remember who sent me this link originally, but I really like what Dr. Eagleman has to say. You really CAN'T know. And that's an amazing prospect which really opens up the world to you. "Knowing" shuts your mind down and removes the wonder, amazement, and joy that comes from learning something new.
Honestly, I don't understand why everyone just doesn't think like me. Come on, I'm amazing and perfect. Why fight it? You know I'm right.
Anyway, here is my first Post of Controversy. I don't remember who sent me this link originally, but I really like what Dr. Eagleman has to say. You really CAN'T know. And that's an amazing prospect which really opens up the world to you. "Knowing" shuts your mind down and removes the wonder, amazement, and joy that comes from learning something new.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Shaken, But Not Stirred
So, basically, exercising has hit a rough patch. My eating disorder has become a ravenous beast determined to eat me alive. After I got over the sick I wrote about in my last post, I exercised for 1 more week (that stupid cold took us all 2 weeks to get over). Then I stopped because my parents were coming to visit and they stay in our home when they are here. For various reasons, I don't want my parents to know I am attempting to exercise on a regular basis, so I didn't while they were visiting. But by that time I had thought I noticed a very slight change in how my shirts fit (I now seriously doubt that anything had changed at all) and that kicked my mindset from exercising because my sedentary lifestyle is unhealthy and I don't feel good, to exercising to lose weight. And I needed to lose that weight fast, faster than just exercising would. I started looking up exercise routines that claimed to make you lose weight quickly and trying to figure out if I could do them; I started researching different diet plans SOLELY for the weight loss claims. The biggest one I looked at was the Paleo diet. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to afford to do it, though I kept looking. And I kept telling myself that I wouldn't stop eating, I was just going to change WHAT I ate (Red Flag #1). But I did quit eating. My excuse was because we didn't have any Paleo appropriate food in the house, so I couldn't eat, or else I was just going to keep gaining weight, because evil carbs, yo (Red Flag #2). And what I considered appropriately Paleo was getting more and more narrow until basically I was mentally only allowing myself steamed veggies, ground beef and eggs (NOTE: I never actually got around to eating this way consistently, but I was planning for eventuality). I did eat dinner because I didn't want The Man to realize what I was doing (Red Flag #3). The day I sat down at my computer and very consciously told myself that I wasn't going to eat lunch that day because I was fat and needed to lose weight (Red Flag #4) was the day that I realized it was getting out of control. And it scared me (though I still didn't eat lunch. By that point, I couldn't, once I had made up my mind not too). I really do hate the way I look, but I am NOT going to be the reason my daughter has any eating or self-image issues. So for the last 2ish months I've been working hard at pushing all thoughts and plans and attempts at changing my diet drastically away. It's been really hard and really confusing, because I know that my diet leaves much to be desired. It's not as unhealthy as it was a few years ago, when I was using a lot of processed foods in my cooking, but it's still not great. I don't eat nearly as many vegetables as I need to, or even want to. I eat a lot of carbs. And I love to snack. I had to quit exercising, because all I could think of was if I was going to wake up the next day skinny again. And I hated knowing that I wasn't. I've started looking for and reading HAES (Health At Every Size) blogs and articles. Because that's what I know I should want, and a big part of me does. I really do want to care very little about how my body actually looks, as long as I'm strong enough to fight off the zombies when they attack. Or I at least won't get seriously winded 30 seconds into the fight. I mean, I want to be able to make a good EFFORT, at least. So that's my reason for my long disappearance this time (aside from my totally boring life. Potty training, woo hoo!). Today was the first day I felt really ready to admit to this. I'm really grateful that it wasn't a total relapse; I don't even want to think about being in that place again, or how it would affect my daughter. I'm having to re-train my brain again though, which really sucks. I mean, carbs are not going to make me explode in fat; I'm not going to wake up weighing 596 pounds tomorrow just because I had a sandwich today. I know this, but I don't KNOW that. *sigh* There is a huge part of me that wishes I were single and childless so that I could quit eating again. That sickening thought is one of my strongest wishes. That and wishing I had never gained weight in the first place. Knowing that if I had remained in charge of my food, I wouldn't have. And hating that I so easily gave up that control. These thoughts are with me constantly right now. And I hate it, even as I hold tightly to them, hoping for at least part of them to come true.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
I'm a Maniac, Maniac.....
Sick. Soooooo sick. I was hoping I was going to get off easy this winter. The last time I remember getting sick was when I had a pukey feeling stomach while The Man and Baby Cakes actually had puking stomachs at the beginning of the season. And it only lasted a day (for me, not them). The Man had 2 or 3 more colds but I didn't get any of them. Baby Cakes had a fever for a few days a couple weeks ago, but I'm not sure if that was a cold or teething (stupid molars). But now my body has decided it hates me. And of course it has to hate me during the week. A 2 year old is not good at realizing that I need to NOT MOVE. Blah.
But I wanted to tell you something. Before the virus hit the fan, I exercised for 3 weeks. 3 WEEKS PEOPLE. 15 days (I don't on weekends). This is quite the accomplishment for me, the epitome of laziness. What was even more shocking to me, is that I enjoyed is so much! There was even one day that I wanted to do it AGAIN. I didn't, but I wanted to. AND I'm looking forward to starting again when I feel better. Blows my mind.
Okay, that's all folks. I'm going to go back to being sick now.
But I wanted to tell you something. Before the virus hit the fan, I exercised for 3 weeks. 3 WEEKS PEOPLE. 15 days (I don't on weekends). This is quite the accomplishment for me, the epitome of laziness. What was even more shocking to me, is that I enjoyed is so much! There was even one day that I wanted to do it AGAIN. I didn't, but I wanted to. AND I'm looking forward to starting again when I feel better. Blows my mind.
Okay, that's all folks. I'm going to go back to being sick now.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Productive Brain Farting
So I just had a little bit of an epiphany. (Seriously, like just a few minutes ago. It would have been a few seconds, but my computer decided to be evil and shut down without telling me that the battery was low, so I had to restart it. Oh the AGONY of waiting to tell you!)
I have been hating on the way my body looks for years. And I have been hating on how crappy I tend to eat 2 weeks out of the month (the other 2 still aren't great, but I do feel more motivated to eat vegetables and less chips). And I have been hating on how pressured I feel to exercise, because I'm "supposed" to be thin/healthy. And these thoughts have very recently been consuming almost all my time. Some changes are going on in my life right now that are making me feel out of control, so I'm finding myself turning back to old habits and thought patterns about controlling my food intake. Thankfully I haven't actually started doing it, but the battle against that scared self in my head is harder than it's been for almost a decade. And of course throw in mild depression and seasonal affective disorder and a super crappy and gray winter, and it kind of squishes me down with it's weight.
I kind of feel at times that I'm stuck between a rock and hard place. I do want to lose weight, mostly because I hate the way I look and I believe I'll be happy if I was just skinny and pretty again (yes, I know that this is a horrible way of thinking and not true. I'm gorgeous, damn it, but I don't feel gorgeous). But I also want to build muscle so I can be strong and powerful and confident in my knowledge of what my body can do. I hate feeling weak and I hate being dependent on others to do what I know I should be able to do. Like lift a 50 pound bag of dog food without feeling like I'm going to tip over on my ass. I don't necessarily want to do it gracefully (though that would be nice) or be able to bench press more than some of my more athletically inclined male friends (of which I have one) (though that would be AWESOME!!!), I just want to be able to do it. It just takes sooooooooooooo muuuuuuuuuuuch woooooooooooooorrrrrk....... Blah. And I'm lazy. So very lazy.
BUT
the epiphany. Telling myself that I need to exercise because that's what I "should" do to be healthy,or be thin, or whatever, doesn't work. It never has. I don't think it works for most people. Everyone has a little James Dean in them and wants to flip the bird whenever someone says they "should" do something. I know I do, anyway. I will dig in my heels and pull the other direction just because I have to show that I don't have to do anything anyone else says. I'm totally in control of my life and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!!!! (Envision me stomping my foot and pouting. I'm very good at it, it shouldn't be too hard.)
BUT (again)
if I say to myself, "Self, I challenge you to, oh, I don't know, power-walk around the table 3 times then press your naked butt against the window", I will probably do it. I'm even more likely to do it if someone else challenges me to do it. Especially if I know that they will be checking up on me to see if I did it. Oooooo, and give me a prize if I do, oh man! There are no bounds to what I would do if challenged. Okay, I would probably have some limits, but probably not many. But it has to be a challenge. Daring me, doesn't work so much. Meh. Dares are likely to hurt or embarrass me, so, do it yourself. I'm not sticking my tongue on THAT pole, thankyouverymuch (I was never much fun at Truth or Dare).
This epiphany was brought to you by the fact that I forced myself to exercise today. I hate to exercise (see above lazy excuse). I don't feel good before, during, or after I do it. And when I have to stop half-way through Sweating to the Oldies, I feel pretty weak too. Afterwards, while I was drinking my Lemon Zinger tea, I was reading a blog post about a woman who had challenged herself to do a 7 day cleanse and was writing about how great she felt after completing the challenge. Not because she had lost weight, or had broken some of her bad eating habits, but because she had been challenged to do something and had accomplished it.
And I realized, "That's me!" I thought to myself, "Self, I challenge you to sweat to the oldies 5 days a week for 1 week," and I said back, "You're going DOWN sucker!" Suddenly, I felt like I could do it. It wasn't a chore. I had something to prove. I FELT GOOD ABOUT IT. Oh man, it was amazing. And then I thought, "I need to blog about this!" And then my computer shut down and I had to restart it, and well, here we are.
So, starting on Monday, I will exercise 5 days in a row. I'm allowing myself to pick what that is, though I'm pushing myself to do my exercise videos (yes, they really are Richard Simmons ones. For some reason, I feel like less of a loser doing those ones), I could just go for a walk if that's what I wanted to do. I'm also giving myself the weekend off. Now I just have to pick what my prize at the end of the week will be. Maybe Burger King? Mmmmm......yum........
I have been hating on the way my body looks for years. And I have been hating on how crappy I tend to eat 2 weeks out of the month (the other 2 still aren't great, but I do feel more motivated to eat vegetables and less chips). And I have been hating on how pressured I feel to exercise, because I'm "supposed" to be thin/healthy. And these thoughts have very recently been consuming almost all my time. Some changes are going on in my life right now that are making me feel out of control, so I'm finding myself turning back to old habits and thought patterns about controlling my food intake. Thankfully I haven't actually started doing it, but the battle against that scared self in my head is harder than it's been for almost a decade. And of course throw in mild depression and seasonal affective disorder and a super crappy and gray winter, and it kind of squishes me down with it's weight.
I kind of feel at times that I'm stuck between a rock and hard place. I do want to lose weight, mostly because I hate the way I look and I believe I'll be happy if I was just skinny and pretty again (yes, I know that this is a horrible way of thinking and not true. I'm gorgeous, damn it, but I don't feel gorgeous). But I also want to build muscle so I can be strong and powerful and confident in my knowledge of what my body can do. I hate feeling weak and I hate being dependent on others to do what I know I should be able to do. Like lift a 50 pound bag of dog food without feeling like I'm going to tip over on my ass. I don't necessarily want to do it gracefully (though that would be nice) or be able to bench press more than some of my more athletically inclined male friends (of which I have one) (though that would be AWESOME!!!), I just want to be able to do it. It just takes sooooooooooooo muuuuuuuuuuuch woooooooooooooorrrrrk....... Blah. And I'm lazy. So very lazy.
BUT
the epiphany. Telling myself that I need to exercise because that's what I "should" do to be healthy,
BUT (again)
if I say to myself, "Self, I challenge you to, oh, I don't know, power-walk around the table 3 times then press your naked butt against the window", I will probably do it. I'm even more likely to do it if someone else challenges me to do it. Especially if I know that they will be checking up on me to see if I did it. Oooooo, and give me a prize if I do, oh man! There are no bounds to what I would do if challenged. Okay, I would probably have some limits, but probably not many. But it has to be a challenge. Daring me, doesn't work so much. Meh. Dares are likely to hurt or embarrass me, so, do it yourself. I'm not sticking my tongue on THAT pole, thankyouverymuch (I was never much fun at Truth or Dare).
This epiphany was brought to you by the fact that I forced myself to exercise today. I hate to exercise (see above lazy excuse). I don't feel good before, during, or after I do it. And when I have to stop half-way through Sweating to the Oldies, I feel pretty weak too. Afterwards, while I was drinking my Lemon Zinger tea, I was reading a blog post about a woman who had challenged herself to do a 7 day cleanse and was writing about how great she felt after completing the challenge. Not because she had lost weight, or had broken some of her bad eating habits, but because she had been challenged to do something and had accomplished it.
And I realized, "That's me!" I thought to myself, "Self, I challenge you to sweat to the oldies 5 days a week for 1 week," and I said back, "You're going DOWN sucker!" Suddenly, I felt like I could do it. It wasn't a chore. I had something to prove. I FELT GOOD ABOUT IT. Oh man, it was amazing. And then I thought, "I need to blog about this!" And then my computer shut down and I had to restart it, and well, here we are.
So, starting on Monday, I will exercise 5 days in a row. I'm allowing myself to pick what that is, though I'm pushing myself to do my exercise videos (yes, they really are Richard Simmons ones. For some reason, I feel like less of a loser doing those ones), I could just go for a walk if that's what I wanted to do. I'm also giving myself the weekend off. Now I just have to pick what my prize at the end of the week will be. Maybe Burger King? Mmmmm......yum........
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Thursday, February 7, 2013
*sigh*
Sometimes I feel like a huge hippie hypocrite. For someone who is thisclose to getting a diploma declaring her a Master Herbalist, we don't use herbs nearly as much as I think we should.
(Of course, that's hard to do when every time you mention using them on your husband, he tells the story of how you made him drink 16 oz of what he calls "ass tea" for a cold when he should have only had a couple of tablespoons.)
(Oh, and he forgets to add that it worked and he was better the next day.)
We also don't eat as healthy as I think we should.
And this is where my point lies. There are so many different and conflicting ideas about what healthy is: vegetarian, vegan, low-carb, no-carb, Paleo, whole food/no processed, low-fat, etc. There are even people out there who think the only thing you should eat is fruit (fruitism or fruitarian, I think it's called). And here's poor little old me, with my food-addled brain, trying wade through all this crap while on a paltry food budget. I look at what we can eat and freak out. Fruits and veggies are pretty much a luxury, though we can get a few. Pretty much anything we can afford is very carb heavy. Even meat is a luxury item. And my brain is yelling at me, "Carbs! Evil carbs! You're going to be sick! And tired! AND FAT! YOU'RE GOING TO GET SO FAT!"
In my head, the only things I could eat and still be healthy (healthy=thin) is vegetables. And specifically salads. Which should have no dressing, but if you must it should be some kind of vinaigrette and very little of it at that.
"Don't you know you're supposed to enjoy the actual taste of vegetables without anything on top of them? If you can't, there is something wrong with you. And steamed vegetables, those are iffy. Those are too tempting to put something like butter on. In fact, just stick with lettuce. Maybe celery. You'll be safe if that's all you eat. Besides, your husband and daughter need the other stuff. Not you, fatty. Not you."
It sucks. I constantly feel like a horrible person or like I have given up on myself because I ate a sandwich with meat on it (wasteful, should go to someone else), or because I finished Baby Cakes' leftover chili (should have eaten a salad). I'm a bad mom because I can't think of all sorts of different healthy foods to give her at her meals (not that we can afford a bajillion different options) (and she probably wouldn't eat them anyway) and her snacks consist of crackers, nilla wafers, or her Halloween candy.
And I constantly feel like a failure because I'm not skinny. I'm a failure because if I just ate better I would be thin. If I just exercised, I would be thin. If I just ate less (and I hardly eat anything as it is, to the point that I'm worried it will rub off on Baby Cakes) I would be thin. If I just had more will power, more control over myself, I could be looked at as a person who deserves to be considered real, whole and worthy of admiration. And I feel like I'm going to break under the pressure sometimes.
(Of course, that's hard to do when every time you mention using them on your husband, he tells the story of how you made him drink 16 oz of what he calls "ass tea" for a cold when he should have only had a couple of tablespoons.)
(Oh, and he forgets to add that it worked and he was better the next day.)
We also don't eat as healthy as I think we should.
And this is where my point lies. There are so many different and conflicting ideas about what healthy is: vegetarian, vegan, low-carb, no-carb, Paleo, whole food/no processed, low-fat, etc. There are even people out there who think the only thing you should eat is fruit (fruitism or fruitarian, I think it's called). And here's poor little old me, with my food-addled brain, trying wade through all this crap while on a paltry food budget. I look at what we can eat and freak out. Fruits and veggies are pretty much a luxury, though we can get a few. Pretty much anything we can afford is very carb heavy. Even meat is a luxury item. And my brain is yelling at me, "Carbs! Evil carbs! You're going to be sick! And tired! AND FAT! YOU'RE GOING TO GET SO FAT!"
In my head, the only things I could eat and still be healthy (healthy=thin) is vegetables. And specifically salads. Which should have no dressing, but if you must it should be some kind of vinaigrette and very little of it at that.
"Don't you know you're supposed to enjoy the actual taste of vegetables without anything on top of them? If you can't, there is something wrong with you. And steamed vegetables, those are iffy. Those are too tempting to put something like butter on. In fact, just stick with lettuce. Maybe celery. You'll be safe if that's all you eat. Besides, your husband and daughter need the other stuff. Not you, fatty. Not you."
It sucks. I constantly feel like a horrible person or like I have given up on myself because I ate a sandwich with meat on it (wasteful, should go to someone else), or because I finished Baby Cakes' leftover chili (should have eaten a salad). I'm a bad mom because I can't think of all sorts of different healthy foods to give her at her meals (not that we can afford a bajillion different options) (and she probably wouldn't eat them anyway) and her snacks consist of crackers, nilla wafers, or her Halloween candy.
And I constantly feel like a failure because I'm not skinny. I'm a failure because if I just ate better I would be thin. If I just exercised, I would be thin. If I just ate less (and I hardly eat anything as it is, to the point that I'm worried it will rub off on Baby Cakes) I would be thin. If I just had more will power, more control over myself, I could be looked at as a person who deserves to be considered real, whole and worthy of admiration. And I feel like I'm going to break under the pressure sometimes.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Colored Rice for Sensory Play
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So I have a ton of projects on my Pintrest page that I really need motivation to do. A couple of months ago, I decided that if I made sure to post the projects on my blog, then I would probably actually do them. Turns out, the problem is not doing the projects, but doing the posting. Didn't work out so well. But I did do one project. I made colored rice for Baby Cakes to play with. The idea came from the Share & Remember blog. She makes the rice with something called liquid watercolors, which I have never heard of, and are (apparently) really expensive. Thankfully in the comments, someone posted how they did it with food coloring, so that's what I did. Here is what I got:
Anyway, here is how I do it:
Colored Rice
1 cup rice per color
food coloring
sandwich bags or bowl for mixing
1 tsp rubbing alcohol or vinegar (I used rubbing alcohol. I don't know how well the vinegar would work, but someone on the comments page on the original blog suggested it. Also, add more if you think it needs it. But I only used 3 tablespoons per 8 cups of rice when I made some for a large rice table for my church nursery.) (And now back to your regular scheduled programming.)
Put rice in the baggie or bowl. Add rubbing alcohol or vinegar to the rice, then 8 - 10 drops of food coloring. Mix everything together really well. Pour onto a cookie sheet with sides or a jelly roll pan and dry in a 250 degree oven for 10 minutes.
And that's it! Enjoy having occupied children (at least for a little while)!
Monday, November 19, 2012
How I Survive The Holidays (Barely)
I hate the holidays.
I hate the holidays.
I HATE THE HOLIDAYS.
Before you lynch me, hear me out. After I'm done talking, you can discuss amongst yourselves if I am still worthy of lynching (but my writing will be so witty, by the time you are done, I'll have such a head start you won't be able to catch me).
I hate the ads that tell you to get a 2nd mortgage to afford all the gifts your little precious "deserves".
I hate the commercials shilling the latest and greatest unnecessary item as needs or the one thing that will make you happy.
I hate the obligatory "well, we know them, so we should get them something even though we only talk once a year" gifts and the expectation that said gift should be reciprocated whether you afford it or not.
I hate hearing people talk about how they are going to only go into a "little" debt for Christmas.
I hate Christmas music. HATE IT. (Some is very beautiful when done right, and done once.) And I hate that it is played from October through January, because it makes people buy things. There are only so many renditions of "Ruldolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" that can be tolerated in 10 minutes (same goes for that crappy Mariah Carey song).
Most of all, I hate the fact that our biggest holiday celebrations center around food. Food and I do not have a good history, and the pressure to eat everything offered that goes hand in hand with the holidays in our culture is enough to drive me to hide out in my bathroom until it's all over. I know that there are a lot of other people out there who also have problems with food and feeling a lack of control over it and the holidays, so I thought I would write down my own ways of getting through this sucky time of year in the hopes of helping someone else get through without killing themselves or someone else.
*Disclaimer: I am not, and will never be, advocating that absolutely NO eating should be going on as part of a control strategy. While I am going to try to gear this towards all eating disorders (bulimia, anorexia, over-eating, EDNOS, etc.), the only experience I have is with anorexia, so it may lean that way. I am trying to write for everyone who struggles though. I strongly, strongly encourage anyone reading this to keep eating healthy meals throughout the holiday season. These are just how I stay sane around all the food ridiculousness.
1. Keep it simple. If you are in charge of the cooking of the meal, it is not obligatory to have a huge spread for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. One main course and 1 side plus salad and dessert if you feel like it is more than enough. It's not obligatory to have a huge spread for either one, in fact. Granted, if you have 20+ people coming over, there will be a lot of food. I would recommend passing the responsibility of hosting and cooking to others, and taking a pass yourself, if that is going to be the case. In fact, even if there is only going to be 5 people, if you feel safer and more in control of the situation by handing off those responsibilities, DO IT. And you are under no obligation to explain to anyone your reasons for doing this other than you just don't feel like it this year. If your family knows your situation, by all means, tell them that's why. If they don't, let them think you are lazy for bringing store-bought rolls or soda. What they think does not matter; your happiness and sense of self does. If you feel you can do it, you can always have a simple dinner at home with your significant other (if you have one) and kids (if you have them), and join the family party later, after most of the food has been eaten and hopefully some of the pressure to eat is off because everyone is passed out in front of the TV.
2. If your family is toxic and a big reason you have problems with food and you know that they are going to do/say things to trigger your eating disorder, STAY AWAY. It is perfectly okay to do that. Tell them that your boss is making you work, tell them you are sick, tell them whatever you want, just stay away. You are never under any obligation to be around people who hurt you, whether they are family, friends or some creepy dude on a subway. Your safety, sanity and happiness is much more important. If you need someones' permission to do this, you have mine.
3. Remind yourself every day that you are in control. Not food, not your parents, your spouse, your dog. YOU. Write it on every mirror in your house so that you see it whenever you look at one. Add to it "I love you". Say it to yourself. You feel like an idiot, but no one is watching you, and it does help. In fact, I recommend doing this year-round.
4. Eat slowly, but eat until you are full. No tricks to make it look like you're eating when you are not. You know what I mean. This is one way to learn intuitive eating. Really try to enjoy what you are eating. If you look at your plate and there is food left yet you know you are done, then stop eating. If you want to eat something you normally don't "allow" yourself to eat, give yourself permission to eat it. And remember, you do not have to clean your plate to be "polite". You do not have to take seconds (unless you want to). Basically, eat when you are hungry and stop when you aren't. If someone gets insulted by you doing this, then that is their problem. Your priority is you and how comfortable you are. (*NOTE: This can be EXTREMELY hard to do. If you are just starting on your recovery journey, be gentle with yourself and take baby steps. Skip this step all together if you need to.)
5. EAT.
6. If you have a support group, therapist, or someone who knows your situation and can be your support, use them. Use them, use them, use them!!! I can not stress how important this is. If you feel you do not have any one, I suggest the web board Something Fishy. The link to their forum is here and the link to their home page is here. While I am not currently active and haven't been for quite sometime, this board has been a huge help to me in the past. Also, if you know me, I am more than happy to try and be your support, though I will say now that if I think you need more than I can give you, I will let you know. I will also try to help you find that help.
7. BE GENTLE WITH YOURSELF. The holidays can be some of the worst times of the year to have an eating disorder, whether you are years in to recovery or just starting out. The pressures can be, and are, huge. Just do what you can, but DO NOT cope by digging deeper into the eating disorder. I believe that step number 3, reminding yourself that you love yourself and that you are in control is one of the most important things you can do to get started and keep going. Even if that's "all" you can do, it is a first step in the right direction of taking control back, it's huge, and it's something to be proud of.
Here's hoping we all get through this as unscathed as possible. Happy Holidays.
P.S. I am not, by any means, perfect at following these steps. My dad has to follow a special diet, and when he doesn't follow it exactly for one reason or another one day, he just starts again the next day. Take it one day at a time, try not to worry about what you are going to be doing tomorrow. Also, trying is perfectly valid. Screw Yoda.
I hate the holidays.
I HATE THE HOLIDAYS.
Before you lynch me, hear me out. After I'm done talking, you can discuss amongst yourselves if I am still worthy of lynching (but my writing will be so witty, by the time you are done, I'll have such a head start you won't be able to catch me).
I hate the ads that tell you to get a 2nd mortgage to afford all the gifts your little precious "deserves".
I hate the commercials shilling the latest and greatest unnecessary item as needs or the one thing that will make you happy.
I hate the obligatory "well, we know them, so we should get them something even though we only talk once a year" gifts and the expectation that said gift should be reciprocated whether you afford it or not.
I hate hearing people talk about how they are going to only go into a "little" debt for Christmas.
I hate Christmas music. HATE IT. (Some is very beautiful when done right, and done once.) And I hate that it is played from October through January, because it makes people buy things. There are only so many renditions of "Ruldolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" that can be tolerated in 10 minutes (same goes for that crappy Mariah Carey song).
Most of all, I hate the fact that our biggest holiday celebrations center around food. Food and I do not have a good history, and the pressure to eat everything offered that goes hand in hand with the holidays in our culture is enough to drive me to hide out in my bathroom until it's all over. I know that there are a lot of other people out there who also have problems with food and feeling a lack of control over it and the holidays, so I thought I would write down my own ways of getting through this sucky time of year in the hopes of helping someone else get through without killing themselves or someone else.
*Disclaimer: I am not, and will never be, advocating that absolutely NO eating should be going on as part of a control strategy. While I am going to try to gear this towards all eating disorders (bulimia, anorexia, over-eating, EDNOS, etc.), the only experience I have is with anorexia, so it may lean that way. I am trying to write for everyone who struggles though. I strongly, strongly encourage anyone reading this to keep eating healthy meals throughout the holiday season. These are just how I stay sane around all the food ridiculousness.
1. Keep it simple. If you are in charge of the cooking of the meal, it is not obligatory to have a huge spread for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. One main course and 1 side plus salad and dessert if you feel like it is more than enough. It's not obligatory to have a huge spread for either one, in fact. Granted, if you have 20+ people coming over, there will be a lot of food. I would recommend passing the responsibility of hosting and cooking to others, and taking a pass yourself, if that is going to be the case. In fact, even if there is only going to be 5 people, if you feel safer and more in control of the situation by handing off those responsibilities, DO IT. And you are under no obligation to explain to anyone your reasons for doing this other than you just don't feel like it this year. If your family knows your situation, by all means, tell them that's why. If they don't, let them think you are lazy for bringing store-bought rolls or soda. What they think does not matter; your happiness and sense of self does. If you feel you can do it, you can always have a simple dinner at home with your significant other (if you have one) and kids (if you have them), and join the family party later, after most of the food has been eaten and hopefully some of the pressure to eat is off because everyone is passed out in front of the TV.
2. If your family is toxic and a big reason you have problems with food and you know that they are going to do/say things to trigger your eating disorder, STAY AWAY. It is perfectly okay to do that. Tell them that your boss is making you work, tell them you are sick, tell them whatever you want, just stay away. You are never under any obligation to be around people who hurt you, whether they are family, friends or some creepy dude on a subway. Your safety, sanity and happiness is much more important. If you need someones' permission to do this, you have mine.
3. Remind yourself every day that you are in control. Not food, not your parents, your spouse, your dog. YOU. Write it on every mirror in your house so that you see it whenever you look at one. Add to it "I love you". Say it to yourself. You feel like an idiot, but no one is watching you, and it does help. In fact, I recommend doing this year-round.
4. Eat slowly, but eat until you are full. No tricks to make it look like you're eating when you are not. You know what I mean. This is one way to learn intuitive eating. Really try to enjoy what you are eating. If you look at your plate and there is food left yet you know you are done, then stop eating. If you want to eat something you normally don't "allow" yourself to eat, give yourself permission to eat it. And remember, you do not have to clean your plate to be "polite". You do not have to take seconds (unless you want to). Basically, eat when you are hungry and stop when you aren't. If someone gets insulted by you doing this, then that is their problem. Your priority is you and how comfortable you are. (*NOTE: This can be EXTREMELY hard to do. If you are just starting on your recovery journey, be gentle with yourself and take baby steps. Skip this step all together if you need to.)
5. EAT.
6. If you have a support group, therapist, or someone who knows your situation and can be your support, use them. Use them, use them, use them!!! I can not stress how important this is. If you feel you do not have any one, I suggest the web board Something Fishy. The link to their forum is here and the link to their home page is here. While I am not currently active and haven't been for quite sometime, this board has been a huge help to me in the past. Also, if you know me, I am more than happy to try and be your support, though I will say now that if I think you need more than I can give you, I will let you know. I will also try to help you find that help.
7. BE GENTLE WITH YOURSELF. The holidays can be some of the worst times of the year to have an eating disorder, whether you are years in to recovery or just starting out. The pressures can be, and are, huge. Just do what you can, but DO NOT cope by digging deeper into the eating disorder. I believe that step number 3, reminding yourself that you love yourself and that you are in control is one of the most important things you can do to get started and keep going. Even if that's "all" you can do, it is a first step in the right direction of taking control back, it's huge, and it's something to be proud of.
Here's hoping we all get through this as unscathed as possible. Happy Holidays.
P.S. I am not, by any means, perfect at following these steps. My dad has to follow a special diet, and when he doesn't follow it exactly for one reason or another one day, he just starts again the next day. Take it one day at a time, try not to worry about what you are going to be doing tomorrow. Also, trying is perfectly valid. Screw Yoda.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Just Because
Ten Things I Love About BabyCakes:
1. She always dances to the song "Clean Up" and rarely to anything else.
2. She fake laughs.
3. She will draw a straight line and call it a slide.
4. She will draw a "circle" and call it anything from a happy face to a goat.
5. She loves rocking chairs.
6. She runs circles around the dining room table with a very serious look on her face when she is happy and content.
7. She loves the library, reading, and being read to (over and over and over and over...)
8. She gets super excited when The Man comes home from work.
9. She plays in the freezer.
10. She makes her stuffed animals kiss the dogs and the cats.
1. She always dances to the song "Clean Up" and rarely to anything else.
2. She fake laughs.
3. She will draw a straight line and call it a slide.
4. She will draw a "circle" and call it anything from a happy face to a goat.
5. She loves rocking chairs.
6. She runs circles around the dining room table with a very serious look on her face when she is happy and content.
7. She loves the library, reading, and being read to (over and over and over and over...)
8. She gets super excited when The Man comes home from work.
9. She plays in the freezer.
10. She makes her stuffed animals kiss the dogs and the cats.
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