Calorie Counting: Does It Ever Go Away?

… I don’t know. And maybe, that’s okay.

Hear me out:

Calorie counting. If you struggle with it, you relate to Lily Collins in Netflix’s “To The Bone” scene when her sister refers to her calorie counting as ‘calories aspergers’, and if you don’t – I can only beg that you never attempt to. ((Also, I originally entitled this post Calorie Asperger’s in light of this scene – but it is insensitive to co-opt the two, so I changed it.))

To The Bone

Coming off a weekend in Texas. Ate a lot – drank some wine. Went to my 10-year high school reunion and visited family. Feeling uncomfortably full as I write this – sipping a vanilla latte; ordered it and forgot to ask for nonfat milk, which made me laugh a little because I immediately thought to myself “Wonder how many calories that adds on?”

Some things never change.

You know that scene in Good Will Hunting? The 1997 movie about Matt Damon as this poverty-stricken Boston math genius. Beautifully written (RIP Robin Williams). But, there’s that scene where Matt Damon is told he has this ‘ability’ to solve math equations faster than anyone ever. He’s the best in the world – has a unique brain that rattles off numbers.

There’s a parallelism that resonates here with calorie counting for me, which leads me to this post.

 

Continue reading “Calorie Counting: Does It Ever Go Away?”

“But, The Scale Says I’m Fine”: Gaining Weight With Anorexia

“But, I’m like, fine now.”

The other day I’m on the phone with my therapist.

“How’s your eating?” She asked – after we covered the mundane and I had no other drama to manipulatively fill the time.

“Better,” I said. “I’m diggin’ outta anorexia part 2. I weigh XXX. Put on some pounds in Mexico on that bachelorette.”

I hear her *harumph* on the phone. (And if you don’t know that sound – familiarize yourself with it immediately.)

“That’s not enough.”

I feel that growing flicker of annoyance in the pit of my stomach. “It’s fine.”

It’s FINE. LEAVE ME ALONE. ALL OF YOU – LEAVE ME ALONE.

“And you were …. how much did you weigh when you were in treatment?”

I tell her. “I don’t want to still be that though. I wasn’t even active then. They wouldn’t let me do shit so it wasn’t fair to say that’s accurate – I knew I’d lose a little. That was 3 years ago.”

“Regardless,” she says. “You’re still xxx off.”

“Yep,” I agree – ornery as eating disorders can be. “Yep, maybe. You might just be damn right.”

WHATCHU GONNA DO ABOUT IT, I want to say.

Instead, I wait.

A chess play. Always a chess play with eating disorders.

“So, what are you gonna do about your meals this week, now that you’re not on vacation?” She asks – which irks me.

WAIT, thought I was CONTROLLING this dialogue.

“Dunno,” I say, nonchalantly. “Do what I’m doing.”

“Skip meals?”

“I’m not. I’m gaining weight. I’m figuring it out.”

“But you’re not making it a priority.”

“That’s fair,” I said. “I don’t care if I gain weight or not. I’d be fine if I stayed this forever.”

“But you know you can’t sustain that?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe,” she says. “Maybe isn’t good enough.”

“Maybe is all that I got sometimes.”

Mexico!

Continue reading ““But, The Scale Says I’m Fine”: Gaining Weight With Anorexia”

Add A Pinch of Salt: Must We? Cooking With An Eating Disorder

Happy 2017 y’all! My fingers have finally found their way to the keyboard again and I couldn’t be more relieved. (Always have this mass blind anxiety that after each blog post I’ll suddenly run out of subjects and dive into a deep writers block and lose my voice and never write again and and… well, you get the picture.)

Anyway, I’d say my resolution is to write more consistently – but hey, I think resolutions are bullshit – and I don’t like writing unless I have a subject to delve into.

SO, with that being said, lez’ talk about cooking and eating disorders ’cause LORD – I gots some venting to do.

Pancakes from my roomie

Picture this:

The other night my roommate walks into our apartment right? And there I am leaned over on the kitchen counter – squinting at a laptop screen.

She halts in the doorway. “Are you cooking?”

I look up from said laptop, brow furrowed –  a dripping colander of black beans, a pan full of burnt rice, and reading some eye-rollingly beautiful blonde bloggers “easy, earth shattering sweet potato and grains bowl” recipe.

“I dunno what the hell I’m doing,” I say – turning back to the sink and pushing sweaty hair off my forehead.

SUCK IT BLOG LADY, I think. I hope all your cabbage rots and fumigates your 10,000$ oven.

“Well, this is interesting,” my roommate grins.

I make a face. “I’m on a budget.”

“Lemme know if you need anything,” she says – walking back towards her room (likely with deliberate stride).

“IS A CLOVE THE WHOLE GARLIC?” I yell.

“Jesus, NO. That’s the bulb.”

I sigh. Look over at my dog.

“Wanna give me your gruel?”

He did not.

Hello, Juno – you greedy bastard

The truth about cooking with an ED?

It’s a minefield.

Continue reading “Add A Pinch of Salt: Must We? Cooking With An Eating Disorder”

Sugar N’ Spice N’ Everything Nice? Naw: Holidays With An Eating Disorder

Christmas Eve – and… donuts? 🍩🎄❄️️ ((or otherwise known as a time of general food anxiety, fear of weight gain, and constant body checking))

Such a balancing beam between the holidays we are born into believing in – and the reality that takes place when you have an eating disorder.

Went on a run this morning with my partner. Ran straight past a Dunkin Donuts. “Let’s get donuts for my family,” he said. “I got the dog; you go in and pick it out.”

I. Fucking. Cringed.

Continue reading “Sugar N’ Spice N’ Everything Nice? Naw: Holidays With An Eating Disorder”

“Trump”ing Eating Disorders: Guest Post for My Blog in Light of 2017

“She looks old and wrinkled.”

“She was hotter sick”

“Someone should’ve told her she looked bad sick.”

“She’s so pretty.”

“Poor girl.”

“SHE’S AN ALCOHOLIC NOT A DRUNKOREXIC.”

“This girl be FUCKED up.”

“I’d fuck her.”

“She got an ass.”

“So tired of hearing about sorority girls with eating disorders. NEXT.”

“Someone should give that bitch a real problem to cry about.”

“I think she’s beautiful.”

“She has a nice smile.”


Oh, the internet.

A place I liken to “seeing someone else puking so you start puking and then everyone else starts puking” 2016.

Thanks for the line, John Oliver.

Continue reading ““Trump”ing Eating Disorders: Guest Post for My Blog in Light of 2017″

“Scale Wars”: Return Of The (Weight) Jedi

… Alright, so my Star War/eating disorder puns are lame (although I did get a good smirk imagining Han Solo with a scale obsession.)

Anyway, so the other day I had one of those social media Timehop moments. You know what I’m talking about, right?  It’s like you’re all well and good with the past – SAYANORA to the prom pics  – the frat parties – SEE YA MOPPY-HAIRED EX  – you’ve come to terms with the bad style choices – and then BAM.

A picture resurfaces.

Hello Linds, Timehop sings with its do-gooding dinosaur logo – DO YOU REMEMBER THAT 3 YEARS AGO YOU LOOKED LIKE THIS? Come linger nostalgically in my visual.

Timehop, you marketing bastard.

Side note – ever wonder how much easier recovery could be without the constant triggers of social media? Not that I plan on getting rid of it… but I do wonder sometimes. Continue reading ““Scale Wars”: Return Of The (Weight) Jedi”

“So, Does The Camera Make You Gain 10lbs?”: Being On Television With An Eating Disorder

CBS Studio

2 days ago, I did an interview with CBS New York talking about eating disorders, drunkorexia, and recovery.

Throughout the interview, I felt calm, I felt poised, I felt eloquent.

I win at life, I thought. Woo – I got my shit TOGETHER!

Lolz.

Flash forward 4 hours later and I see the following picture:

!!!!!#)&@#(^@(!_%$!

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING, I thought immediately. NO. My ASS. My THIGHS. NOPE. NO-NO-NO-NO.

That is NOT going in the segment, I hissed at my poor friend nearby. Not to millions of people.

My panic heightened.

Continue reading ““So, Does The Camera Make You Gain 10lbs?”: Being On Television With An Eating Disorder”

Anorexia: Everyone’s Favorite Eating Disorder

A few weekends ago, I sat around a campfire talking to a boy.

Get enough to eat? He asked, peering down at the paper plate of leftovers in my lap.

So full, I moaned – tossing it to the side in that disgusted way eating disorder brains have when they want to show everyone that they “know” how full and gross they are for, ya know, eating.

((I’M SORRY I ATE SO MUCH AND AM SUBJECTING YOU TO IT, we want to scream.))

Oh, ED brain.

You sure? he asked – scoping my plate.

I nodded, catching his eye. Why you askin’?

He shook his head, but I already knew.

Ah – my blog, I guessed. Took a gander?

I’m sorry, he said. I know I promised I wouldn’t, but I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.

I shrugged. You’re not the first, but I hope it didn’t overwhelm you.

He shook his head; his mouth opening slightly, then closing.

What? I asked.

I just, he trailed off. It was hard to read.

I’m sorry, I said. But hey, 80% truths. I write 80% truths about 80% truths.

He shook his head. It wasn’t your writing.

I quieted.

He fingered the lid of a beer with his forefinger.

I just- I went through this before Linds, he paused – catching my eye again. Brought back that time I guess.

I mentally slapped my forehead. Of course, I thought.

Someone close?

Close, he repeated – breaking eye contact. Yes.

He mumbled his relation to her, and then he looked at the ground. She’s not really, he paused again. She never got better. Nothing I did ever helped, he said. I worry about that with you. If one day you’ll just fade.

You can’t fix her, I said, realizing how stupid it was as it came out.

((I HATE WHEN PEOPLE SAY THAT. Like DUH, we KNOW we can’t fix people.))

I didn’t want that, he said. I just, I wanted her to be better I guess. I thought she’d grow out of it or something. I didn’t know it could get so bad.

No one does, I suggested. Everyone thinks eating disorders are a cry for attention.

He tightened his mouth.

I opened mine; nothing came out.

Sometimes saying nothing at all, I realized, relates more.

He leaned over; grabbed my hand. We changed the subject.


Continue reading “Anorexia: Everyone’s Favorite Eating Disorder”

Independence Day Reminder: It’s Okay To Hate The Buffets

🇺🇸🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻🇺🇸

Quick reminder: buffets suck when you have an eating disorder. Buffets will always suck.

Accept that.

And yo – It’s okay to work out on a holiday. It’s okay to not work out either. Had the worst binge of my life on 4th of July 2013, sitting with my relatives and frantically shoving the buffet brownies and coleslaw and baked beans and biscuits in my mouth. I laid on the floor that night, throwing up bile in a toilet, and I thought to myself “I’ll never be okay – I won’t ever be normal.”

I was right then, I’m not “normal.” I am a girl with an eating disorder, and I have to manage it. I have to be proactive.

I worked out yesterday, the day before, and this morning, ran 4 miles- sat down and took a selfie on a treadmill – cause it’s okay to do that too. I know what I’m capable of and I know that I need a run in order to keep my lil Ed head straight on a holiday.

I write a lot about “eating whatever” on vacation or not working out when you don’t feel like it, but the truth is I do love exercise (cardio) … in moderation. I love a good run. I love to bike. I don’t give a shit about weights but I love to clear my head.

Do what ya gotta do to stay present, to stay whatever your version of “normal” is. None of us are normal – were all sittin around with issues and demons. So run if you need it, do yoga if you need it, meditate if you need it, walk if you want it. It’s okay. 

The buffet will never change. But you can change in order to survive it. Self care people, self care. 💛

“No, I Don’t Want Any F-ing Ice Cream”: Camping With An Eating Disorder

This weekend was a holiday.

Here I am, 27 years old – about to start a bomb job tomorrow – the stress of my past 2 unemployed months lifted from my shoulders –

And yet this weekend I went camping – in the happiest of Ralph Walo Emerson places- and was still consumed by the inevitable eating disorder panic.

That moment that everyone in a car shouts “Let’s get ice cream!”

And you sit in the back, slinking into your Marmot jacket – trying to disappear from your reality in the back of a Colorado Suburu SUV.

Annoyed by the people asking – and then annoyed at yourself for feeling flustered in the first place.

Camping grounds!

Continue reading ““No, I Don’t Want Any F-ing Ice Cream”: Camping With An Eating Disorder”