Wednesday, November 30, 2011

I ain't been droppin' no eaves sir, honest.

So I was watching Lord of the Rings last night (Fellowship of the Ring, extended version), and it got me thinking. In particular, the beginning with the hobbits got me thinking.

I identify with the hobbits. They're awesome. Sure the elves are all fancy and junk, but they seemed kind of stuffy and uptight. I would much rather be a hobbit.

And as I pondered that fanciful notion, I realized that I pretty much used to BE a hobbit before my eating issues took over every aspect of my life. I had always taken pleasures in simple comforts, and food used to be one of those. Not bingeing as I tend to do when I let myself eat a "normal" amount, but just taking pleasure in food. Eating what I want when I want. Cooking pretty much all the time just to play with flavours and try lots of new things. Having a piece of chocolate or some other sweet indulgence just because it tastes nice. I count alcohol in this as well. I miss being a beer snob, and appreciating expensive French wines. I miss doing all that and being happy with myself at the same time.

I WAS happy then, and one should be happy doing those sorts of things. There's nothing wrong with eating. NOTHING. There's nothing wrong with a BMI of 20.4. There's nothing wrong with weighing a 3-digit number.

I had a moment last night--it lasted maybe 30 seconds--in which all of this became so clear and simple that it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my chest. I felt like I could breathe again.

It didn't last, but that's not the point. The point is that it was there, and it existed for a long time before this disorder. Which means it can exist again.

It's like trying to remember a vivid dream hours after you've woken up: You get sudden glimpses of images from the dream and you have a vague memory of certain emotions that you can't really put into words, but it's all too hazy to really grasp it. It's getting harder and harder to remember, but you KNOW it was there.

I used to be happy.

So now I'm trying to force myself to stop and think. Why do I want to lose more weight? Why, deep down, do I want to look like a chemo patient? I won't be pretty--no one is pretty when they look sick. And I most certainly won't be happy. That "woohoo!" feeling of watching numbers drop on the scale rarely ever lasts more than an hour or so after the weigh-in. Instead, I'm just back to being miserable.

I'm sick of hating myself. SICK OF IT.

So am I giving Recovery a proper try? (Again?) Maybe I shouldn't call it "recovery," because by now I really hate that word. Instead, I'm going to try Living again. This obsession with food and numbers and weight is not living; it's turning me into the walking dead. It's exhausting and depressing and hateful and no good will ever come of it.

I'm not gonna lie--it's also terrifying. It's like me with my vertigo trying to walk in a straight line without tripping or falling down. So easy to fall, and one tiny little slip up is enough to send everything crashing back down. Being content with myself is a completely alien feeling by now, but I'm going to try and hold onto it as tight as I can. I'm so sick of living in this nightmare.

....that being said, I'm going to apologize in advance if I stop giving some of your blogs the attention I have in the past. As much as I hate to admit to such a human weakness as being "triggered," I'd be lying if I said I wasn't triggered when reading about starving and fasting and purging and whatnot. I'll keep checking in on everyone's blogs, but I may have to pass over some of the posts.

It doesn't mean I love any of you any less. <3

Sunday, November 27, 2011

You shouldn't be married, you should be studied! You're a big, dumb, weird...thing!

I still can't think of anything to write.

So here's a video of my kiiikiiiii Callisto being a spazz and playing with an old receipt that fell out of my purse.

Callisto turned 14 last week. Which makes her roughly 75 in human years. 

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

You have destroyed his spirit, you have taken him from us. All that I could forgive. But Debbie..... pastels?

I can't believe I have 500 followers. That's intense. Hey y'all! Am I continuing to live up to your expectations?

...with that in mind, I have created a new page^ entitled "Suggestion Box". Depending on how often it gets used, it may or may not remain there for the foreseeable future.

I don't know what to write. And this encompasses my fiction as well as this blog. The fairy book has been "almost done" for months, and yet I still haven't written more than a few sentences towards the ending. I even tried taking a break from it for a while and then printing out the whole thing to try and refresh the story in my head, but still when I sit down to write:

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 



I was starting to lose weight for a minute there. Then I ate a feckton on the weekend and have leapt straight back up again. 107 lbs this morning. I have a feeling the 104 lb goal for tomorrow won't be happening.

But I need to SNAP THE EFF OUT OF IT because I know this is water retention as a result of the vitamins*. My measurements have gone down from where they were at the end of the summer, and I'm roughly back to where I was when I weighed 96 lbs (how that's possible I have no idea): 32" - 23" - 32". And I can see bones sticking out, so rationally I know I'm not fat, but I just want to FEEL like I'm not fat. Just once. I want to enjoy Thanksgiving without cowering in terror under the dinner table.

I'm actually cooking quite a bit for Thanksgiving this year. I already made my vegetable soup, and am cooking the Brussels sprout fricassee tomorrow. (The recipes are also up on the recipe tab^, but blogger is being a biotch won't let me edit that page.) I'm spending the night at Dad's house tomorrow, for the first time in like 10 years.... o.O

I made a pumpkin pie tonight as well! My own recipe, finally perfected after several years of trial and error. Here it is:

You need
- 1 pumpkin (you need a specific type for baking)
- packaged pie crust (unless you want to make your own; I'm rubbish with pastry)
- 1/2 cup dark brown sugar
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 1/2 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp ginger
- 1/8 tsp nutmeg
- tiny pinch clove
- 2 eggs, and the yolk of a third egg

To make it:
- Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Cover the bottom of a pie dish with one of the pie crusts and bake for 5 minutes. Let it cool down completely.
- Use your Herculean strength to cut the pumpkin in half (not kidding--I had to use a meat cleaver and brute force). Scrape out the seeds, and then boil the pumpkin for about 20 minutes, or until you can easily stick it with a fork. Let it cool down a bit and then drain the water and scrape out the middle of the pumpkin. Show it who's boss with a potato masher.
- Put all the mashed pumpkin in a cheese cloth to drain the excess water, and let it drain for a couple minutes. If you don't have a cheese cloth, you can just use lots of paper towels--layer like 2 or 3 on a plate and spoon the pumpkin into the middle, then lightly squeeze the water out. Repeat until tons of water stops coming out.  
-Preheat the oven to 425 again. 
- In a mixing bowl, combine the pumpkin (you shouldn't need more than 2 1/2 cups of it; save the rest for soup or mini pumpkin pie cupcakes or something), the sugar, cream, and eggs, and the spices. Mix it up real good. 
- Pour the pumpkin mix into the pie dish, over the pre-toasted crust. Most prepackaged pie dough comes in 2 sheets, so you can use the second sheet to make little decorative things to put around the edges of the pie if you like. Brush the dough with a little egg, trying not to get too much on the pumpkin. 
- Bake for 10 minutes on 425, then turn the oven down to 350. Bake it for about 40-50 minutes, or until a toothpick stuck in the middle comes out clean. Keep an eye on the crust while it's baking--if it starts to turn too brown too fast, cover the edges with a thin layer of tin foil. 
- Don't worry if the pumpkin part looks like it's risen too much once the pie comes out of the oven. It will settle back down. You should let the pie cool for two hours before serving it, or before sticking it in the fridge. 

 Have a nice Thanksgiving, my fellow Yankee readers! Try and enjoy it--you all deserve it. <3

Friday, November 18, 2011

Moral fibre? I invented moral fibre!

Apparently I was heinously bloated because after I took the diuretics (and I didn't take more than the recommended dose--go me!) I felt SO MUCH BETTER. Less sluggish and swollen. And I have magically dropped down to 105 lbs, which is 1 lb away from my goal for Thanksgiving. I really just want to get back down to a "safe" weight by Christmas so that when I gain a ton of weight over Christmas (which I am wont to do) I won't flip out as badly.

Are any of you lovelies in the NY/NJ area with nothing to do for Christmas? I've been collecting holiday orphans so that we might have a nice big family Christmas. At the mo' we've got a family friend and one of Little Sis' friends coming for Christmas dinner, and one possible acquaintance whose family is all out in California and she can't afford to fly there.

I am totally serious, by the way. Of course you'd have to be evaluated and ruled out as a serial killer first, but as I am cooking the entire thing, Mum has told me I'm allowed to invite whomsoever I choose. I'm selecting a live turkey myself and it shall be cooked the day after it's killed, so you know it will be DELICIOUS.

 In other news....

Still waiting on my car. I have so far left three messages with Valley Body & Fender and have yet to receive a call back as to when the Virus Pimp might be ready. I kind of want to know in advance so that I can empty all of my bank accounts.
...Scratch that--just got someone on the phone and it looks like the Virus Pimp will not be ready until after Thanksgiving.

I ran into one of the kids I used to babysit the other day. I was their nanny for like 2 years while I was in college--a boy and a girl who were 10 and 7 when I started. Now they're 16 and 13.  o.O The girl is still more or less the same, except now taller than I am (which isn't difficult, really). The boy, however, is nothing like the awkward potbellied know-it-all that he was 6 years ago. He's actually not even so much a boy anymore. He's sporting a dustache and everything. Which is friggin WEIRD.

 All in all, they've turned out pretty well, and I hope that some of that was my doing. I was glad that they were with their dad yesterday (even though he always creeped me out quite a bit...) rather than their mom. I'm pretty sure she still thinks I'm a deranged neo-nazi.

...I should probably explain that.

I taught those two children how to play pretend.

Can you believe that? They actually didn't know what that was. And they're not the only ones. SO MANY children have no idea how to use their imaginations and just make sh*t up as they go along. It's sad. The boy and girl I babysat had no idea--all they did was play video games or watch TV, unless I forced them to play a board game or go outside. I tried to get them to play outside as much as possible, but they would always fight back with the same "there's nothing to DO."

And then it dawned on me one day--they never play pretend.

Idk about the rest of you, but when I was little, that's all we did. Sure we played some Mortal Kombat on the Megadrive, or Super Mario on Nintendo NES, and we all stopped everything at 4.00 to go watch Batman, but mostly we were told by our parents and nannies to get the eff outside and play until dinnertime.

We played cowboys & Indians; we played X-Men (I was always Storm :D); we played the A-Team (I was always Murdock); we played random weird games with dragons and adventures and castles made of the swingset, or we went to war with the treehouse as home base and wielded swords (usually tree branches) and rifles (Nerf guns). It was good craic.

I tried explaining this to the boy and girl, and they were flabbergasted. You would have thought from their reactions that I had just told them they had inherited the entire Hershey factory.

The boy (10 at that time) wanted to play War. He was a pretty smart kid and was going through a World War II phase; so specifically, he wanted to play World War II. He went about setting up trenches in the living room using the big couch cushions, proudly declaring, "I get to be England, because the Allies win." he made his little sister be Russia or France or something. And guess who Mich had to be?

We were hiding behind our pillow-trenches and hurling bombs at each other (stuffed animals) when their mother came home.

Did I mention that they're Jewish?


That was kind of an awkward moment... Their mom was all like, "oh that's nice.....," but she sounded slightly alarmed. 

I am sooooo bored. Boss has been in Court all day and there is feckall to do. Except for filing, which doesn't count because I don't want to do it. 

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!! <3

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Sweet boy come in; I am the dark side of you.

It's going to cost $2,200.00 to fix my car. (T.T)

I do not have $2,200.00.

Anyone need a kidney? Or some eggs? It doesn't get much purer than my Celtic genes. I'd offer a piece of my liver, but that would probably only make you worse if you really need a functioning liver.... I should probably start prepping my cardboard-box-house.

So I know I was in Eff-Recovery-Mode at the end of September and then in October I kind of sort of tried again, but that attempt was much more of an unbalanced tightrope act and mostly I swayed on the side of Disordered.

Well, as of mid-November, the disorder is back with a vengeance. Why, you may ask? Because on top of all the other colossal stressors, I STILL WEIGH 108 MOTHEREFFING POUNDS.

It's been over a month. Not a single fluctuation in my weight. I suppose it could be worse--my weight could still be going up (in which case I think I'd either snap my own neck or end up in lockdown at Bergen Regional). Even then, if my weight went up because of bingeing, I might not go suicidal-crazy, because at least then I would know the wheretos and the whyfors of said weight gain. Binge = gain. That makes sense.

But no.

I have not had a real binge in quite some time. Over a month, I think, which is probably a record for me. Sure I've had days in which I have eaten more than I would like, but nothing that really qualifies as a binge. And I've been exercising like a fiend, as per usual. I even changed up my exercise routine to include some toning and less cardio, and now the cardio is mostly interval training. I drink plenty of water. I don't really drink soda. I lay off caffeine except for my 2 allowed caffeinated beverages in the morning. I've cut down on salt (which is a HUGE accomplishment for someone in my family...).

And yet no change whatsoever in my weight. None. I've plateaued before, but never like this.

Last week saw me going back to super-restriction. Most days are starve-a-thons except weekends, and even then I haven't been eating all that much on weekends. I even broke out the old food diary.

I had a very long internal debate on whether or not I should post that. It's like showing people the filthiest, darkest, most slime-infested regions of my brain and it makes me want to cower shamefully in a corner. And I already feel like I want to cower shamefully in a corner because I'm FAT.

I know, I know. I'm not really that fat. I need to chillax like hardcore. But it's not that easy. If it was, it wouldn't be a Disorder.

Today, I have eaten some turkey bacon (45), coffee that I ended up pouring down the sink because I've lost my taste for coffee (5), sugarfree French Vanilla fake cappuccino thing from powder than comes in a tin (25), and yogurt (50). I'm thinking about maybe having a cup-a-soup soon (50). I did make myself a salad as well, which I shall try to eat (seafood salad thing from A&P mixed with baby spinach). It's difficult, though. Whenever I think about eating, my brain is all like NOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOU'RE TOO FAT FOR THAT!!!!!

If my weight was fluctuating up and down this wouldn't bother me so much. But because my weight--no matter what I do--will not budge from 108, I am living in a state of constant TERROR. One false move, and I could go up to 110, 112, 115, 120; and never go back down again. It's like a curse. And Mich's fairy godmother fecked off a long time ago. (If she ever existed in the first place, which is doubtful because everyone knows Irish girls don't get fairy godmothers.)

Perhaps it is water retention? I'm presuming that's part of it, as I know that use of the vitamins* can cause epic water retention. As I have mentioned before, the vitamins* enable me to exercise for up to an hour and a half on 200 calories or less. But there's also the possibility that they're making me weigh more. The result is extreme kombat in my brain, as the vitamin* addiction battles the eating disorder.

Yesterday, I walked to CVS on my lunch break to buy some diuretics. I took them this morning, so we shall see how it goes....

......yes, I do in fact know that I have problems and I probably need help, but unless you sweet little chickadees intend to pay for that help (and I accept personal checks, money orders, and credit cards), kindly keep those thoughts to yourself. ♥

*if you haven't figured it out already, they go up your srón and rhyme with mugs. 

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.

So I was coming home from the Palisades Mall last night with Little Sis, and whilst driving down Route 304, just before hitting the town of Pearl River, I had an Epic Fail. 

There was a dead deer in the middle of the road. A BIG mf deer, with antlers. Since there were no streetlights and 'twas nighttime, I did not see the deer until it was directly in front of my car. And since it was taking up the entire lane and I was going around 45/50 mph, I had about 1/10th of a second to make a decision. None of the options for sudden swerving looked all that great:

So I went with trying to run over as little of the deer as possible. Let's just say that one of my phobias--the constant fear that I'm going to run a person over and not notice--is now cured. You're definitely going to notice. That was not a small bump. 

I drove a little farther to a spot where there was more room to pull over and assessed the damage. Since it was really dark, I couldn't tell how bad the car looked, but I could tell that I didn't have any flat tires, so Little Sis and I decided to continue a little ways down 304 and park in the KFC, where there was more light. 

At first, we thought there was lots and lots of blood dripping off the car, but I'm pretty sure it was actually transmission fluid, since it was red and not really the consistency of blood. The deer dented the underneath of the bumper and left some chunks of fur behind, but other than that I couldn't see any damage aside from the fact that the car was obviously leaking something essential. 

I tried driving it just to see if we could make it home, but about 30 seconds down the road, the Virus Pimp informed me that he was overheating. I love my car, and I didn't want to risk damaging him any further, so at Little Sis's suggestion we pulled into the next side street--where one of her friends lives--parked the car, and had her friend take us home. 

Now I'm just waiting for the car to get towed to the Sunoco station where our mechanic buddy can assess the damage, so I can see just how badly I'm about to be fecked money-wise. 

The only upside to this is that the anxiety has completely annihilated my appetite. Which is excellent, because it's epic-starve-a-thon from now until Thanksgiving. 

Monday, November 7, 2011

Make some room for my friend, for Chrissake. But... keep your ass handy.

I don't know what the heck it is about informercials that is so comforting to my sleep-deprived mind. Perhaps the same magic powers that makes the stuff they're selling so difficult to resist? Like seriously--how can you NOT want scissors that cut pennies in half?!?

I've probably bought way too much off of informercials. Like the Slap Chop. (If you're easily frightened, don't click that.) And I will praise the awesomeness of my Slap Chop to anyone who will listen. 

And the ShamWows! Those were a gift, but still--I saw the ad and I HAD TO HAVE THEM. Which makes absolutely no sense, because the guy who sells those things and the Slap Chop is horrifying.

I was watching informercials last night. I want a NuWave.

Why doesn't Chuck Norris do more informercials? I mean he totally sold me on the Total Gym. Then again, when those ads were on all the time, I had this really bizarre and awful nightmare in which Chuck Norris crashed the party my friends were having in the woods, and he went mass-murderer on everyone with a chainsaw and brought the Apocalypse with him, and in the end he got me with the chainsaw and nearly cut my leg off, but I still refused to get into the ambulance afterwards because I do not trust medical professionals. 

My work trousers are snug around the middle. :*O   I don't like it one bit.

Saturday, November 5, 2011


I have returned to blogger! Sort of...

Basically I took one look at all the commenters I have to catch up on, responded to three, and then got tired. I'm like 3 blog posts behind (4 if you count this one), so if I don't post for a while that's why (I generally  like to be caught up with commenters before doing a new post). And I get agitated when bloggers vanish with no explanation, so out of courtesy, this is my half-arsed explanation. 


Hope y'all are having a good weekend!! I'm off to the gym with my new supply of vitamins*...........And don't look at me like that--if you lived in my house, you'd be on drugs, too.