Tags: personal


lost dog

Happy belated new year, LJ.
I'm sorry I went AWOL. My ED update is simple enough, - I lost some over xmas (staying with my food-phobic parents) then gained some this month and now I'm ambivolent about getting back on track. I'm maintaining and trying to restrict more yet I know what I should really do is put all these concerns out of my mind, eat intuitively and get on with my life. As if. I'm cutting back to 500cal again tomorrow. Yeah. Phew.

I've been dodging phonecalls and emails and not going into my internship. I hate hate hate being unreliable but not as much as I hate dealing with real life right now. I'm applying for jobs and talking the talk but I dont really want the future I'm chasing. I'm like electricity - I like to take the path of least resistance, I'm just not sure what that is right now. I'm also trying to convince myself I love my boyfriend and I want to look for a new house with him. I have a horrible suspicion this is what love is - you make it work out of guilt or naivety and after a decade of making do you've become dependant on each other.
God, I'm such a lame misanthropic bitch. I'm too old to be so melodramatic and too young to be so jaded.

Aside from all that personal blah, there's a lost dog outside my house, it's an Akita and I'm scared of it but it's wandering in front of trafic, in front of a school and I feel I ought to do something. I probably won't though. I always feel bad for lost dogs, they seem to alternate between gleeful interest in their surroundings and dire anxiety about not knowing where to go next. If it keeps going on the road, I'm calling on the dog warden.

A retarded part of my brain suggested that blogging here is just a way my disorder perpetuates itself and that I should refuse to engage with ED related thoughts. But I know that journalling here has helped me understand myself so much better, there's a fine line between pandering to the disorder and working out my own issues but I'm mostly aware of where that line is. Over the last six months, I've really worked hard at consolidating my sense of self, which I justify by considering it an investment in my future. Yeah, I was probably supposed to do that during childhood but those processes were arrested and I'm now perceptive enough to know I need to work on myself as I also work on my future and public persona.

Hope everyone is doing ok, I'll be back on LJ to catch up soon.

(no subject)

Discovered that my position as a gallery intern somehow gives me free access to the academic journals online. So I've now got a ton of PDFs on anorexia to be reading. I've kinda overloaded my brain with information at the moment, I need time to consider it all but I'm sure something will come of it in the end, hopefully something I can put into words and post here.

One issue at the forefront of my mind today is this: Is recovery a matter of treating the disease or the personality? It's pretty much accepted that anorexia is a multi-causal disease and that one of those causes is a certain type of personality which gives a person a propensity to disordered eating.  We all know that anorexics resist treatment (a symptom), because anorexia so often feel like a last ditch attempt to salvage some personal integrity and identity. The person and the disease are so tangled together, especially when the personality is pathological. 
From a personal point of view, I'm giving up on changing my personality (perfectionistic, conflict-avoidant, neurotic etc) and would rather recovery meant learning strategies to be sucessful despite my innate traits. 

I'm in a good place regarding my ED. Restricting enough to stave off the existential angst. As usual it takes up most of my waking thoughts but that's a welcome distraction at the moment. Physically healthy apart from the jaw infection. No sexual desire or heightened emotions but that could be the prozac. Starting to feel a bit disassociative.

My ongoing ED literature binge

Just finished reading the Passion of Alice by Stephanie Grant. I love it, for what it is - a novel about a woman struggling to gain self knowledge. Other reviewers have said it's a coming out novel, a lesbian novel, an anorexia novel. I think all those other themes are just scenery. Which is why I'm face-palming at the amazon reviews which range from people complaining that the book hasn't helped them understand their eating disorder any better and therefore it's useless and others foaming in zealous rage at the lesbian sex scene (it's pretty tame, btw). It's a bit triggering but it's a nice little novel, Stephanie Grant is a good writer. I'll be giving it a good review for what it is, not what I might have wanted it to be. 

I noticed last night I could almost close my  hands around my thigh, havent tried that for a while and I went to bed feeling like I'd won a prize, got a great present. Regardless of the fact I spend years sliding them around loose and I've got a long way to go to get that back. The boyfriend decided we were all going to stay at his friends house last night - he knows I'm irrationally inflexible in the face of last minute plans. I could not be convinced to go, so we said our good nights and he told me he forgave me. Excuse me? What's to forgive? I didn't do what you wanted in this instance, it's not some major transgression! But maybe I'm just oversensitive.

Disgustingly honest.

Why is it I don't want to/can't recover completely from my ED? I've been thinking about that today, as it applies at this time of my life. And honestly, It's because living like this doesn't feel too bad. In The Golden Cage ED pioneer Hilda Bruch says that "An anorexic patient cannot be considered outside the danger of relapse unless she has honestly reported on the terror of starvation and her inability to repeat it". For me there's simply none of that terror and I long to repeat it, push it further, evenI tried gaining weight before because I was in too much pain to continue living the way I was, and it helped somewhat but only for a while. Right now, I feel I'm distressed by life but not my ED. I don't feel it's at all detrimental to me. OK, I'm scared of food, I get anxious when forced to eat in public but that seems a fair price to pay.

But to pay for what? It's not only that I don't mind living this way it's also that I must be getting something from my ED.
Its a distraction from stressors, I can spend my time counting calories instead of feeling, that's always been a motivation for me. It gives me a sense of control when I have none, cliche but true. Also, one magical day I might feel I'm thin/sick enought to ask for help and to deserve help, I want to get worse paradoxically so I can get help - It validates my maladjustment.

Not only do I think I want the ED, I also don't want the life ahead of me. Somehow, I believe having an ED will save me from that, either by remaking me as a stronger better person, letting me hide behind my sickness or simply providing the sand in which to bury my head. 

So basically, at the moment I feel, even if I'm no good at articulating it that the positives outweigh the negatives. Some would say that feeling fat and inadequate and constantly overwhelmed are symptoms of the ED and I was led to believe that recovery was about curing me of those so I would no longer need my behaviours. Now I'm more inclined to believe that I will always feel these negative feelings and the ED is just my (stupid) way of dealing with them, and if I didn't have that I couldnt live. 

I'm just rambling here but I needed to get these thoughts out of my brain so I can build on them later. I have a strong feeling my logic and intuition can't be relied upon where these issues are concerned and that there's no defending an ED but even if they're utterly skewed I need to know my reasons.