Monday, June 20, 2011

Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks!


This past weekend, I did not binge. And I did not stave. I did something I haven't done in a looooooooooooooooooooooong time: ate like a normal person. I ate when I was hungry, did not count anything, didn't stuff my face until I could no longer breathe, and even ::gasp:: ate a couple snacks of junk food-type things WITHOUT going crazy or climbing the walls in anxiety. 

How do you retrain yourself to eat? It's not like it was something you were ever really taught in the first place. It should be something you do by instinct. In disordering our eating habits, we are essentially unraveling a piece of our brains that should not be capable of unraveling after tens of thousands of years of evolution. So how in the heck are we supposed to knit it back together?!?

People who have never had to deal with the reality of an eating disorder seem to think it's easy to "recover." Just start eating again--how hard can it be, right??

Totally. 'Cause if it was that easy, I would definitely still be disordered. 

Idiots.

....Where was I?
oh yeah.... Food scares me. Foods containing carbohydrates REALLY scare me. I'm quite happy walking around acting like bread, potatoes, rice, pasta, pastry, etc. are simply figments of my imagination. They can't see me if I can't see them, right? But in order to re-learn how to eat, I need to face my fear of bread-things. 

Bigger and scarier than that is simply learning how to eat in general. This is not simply a matter of "oh hey I was starving myself, but now I'm all better, so I'll just go eat something."

No. It doesn't work like that. My brain is now hard-wired to either eat nothing, or to eat everything. That in-between space of normal, healthy portions? It's light walking a tightrope.

Food--especially any kind of carby junk food--makes me feel like that shark from Finding Nemo.


JUST A BIIITE!!!

I try. I REALLY try to have just one cookie. Just one normal-sized bowl of ice cream. Just one serving of Frosties. 

But that one portion sets off the Armageddon Neurons. 

Scientific Fact--foods high in carbs cause an increase in serotonin, which basically causes a reduction in anxiety in the brain, thus making me associate carb-bingeing with decreased anxiety and increased feelings of comfort, which in turn ends in me inhaling every carbohydrate in the immediate vicinity. 

Since my brain is responding to the spike in serotonin levels rather than to whether or not I'm hungry or full, I can't stop eating until I actually physically cannot stuff any more food into my stomach. And yet it still feels like there's this empty, hollow space that needs to be filled. On the occasions I actually have managed to stop mid-binge, the moments following that self control are pure TORTURE. This feels like some kind of Ancient Greek punishment in the afterlife. 

This afternoon, for example, the office pretzels derailed me a bit. I brought several snacks for the day (Quaker Oats mini rice cake things, beef jerky, dry roasted edamame, fiber bar) and thought I could totally have a small handful of the pretzels around lunchtime, without going nuts. 

Wrong. 

I think I stopped myself at like 50. Ugh. 

Now I know that theoretically it's ok for a normal person to have the occasional junk food, or even occasional pig-out day. But bingeing--senseless, mindless, emotional over-eating--is just as unhealthy as starving. Both mentally and physically unhealthy. Since I can only seem to do one or the other, my disordered "logic" tells me to just give up on the whole idea of "recovery." I can't do it and that's that, and since I seem only capable of either bingeing or starving, starvation is clearly the better option. Since my only options are unhealthy ones, I should go with the one that will keep me thin, right?

It's a self-destructive cycle that makes me feel like a hamster running on a little wheel. 


But on to more positive things!

Saturday, Friend and I went on a nature adventure to Wawayanda State Park. We wanted to have a nautical picnic, so in preparation, I decided to experiment some more with that rice paper and make some delicious spring roll type things for our picnic lunch. 

I made two kinds. The first was broccoli, yellow summer squash, and zucchini stir fried in low-sodium teriyaki.
 

I cut everything up really small, to make it easier to roll up. 
Friend took this photo, 'cause I was running late (story of my life) and forgot to get a pic of those ones. 

I made a sauce to go with that one: 2 tbsp low fat mayonnaise, 1 tsp horseradish mustard, and 1 tsp wasabi powder made for a lovely dipping sauce that was spicy enough for me, but not too spicy for Friend. 

For the other set of spring rolls, I did a weird take on an Italian sausage, peppers, and onions sandwich recipe. I sauteed red peppers and onions (cut up as small as possible, for easier spring-rolling).

And I cooked three little veggie-sausage patties in the oven, 


then mashed them up and added them to the frying pan. 

For both spring rolls, I actually cut the pieces of rice paper in half before rolling, to make smaller rolls that were more bite size, and thus more canoe-picnic friendly. 


Then rolled them up and tried to make them look pretty.


They both turned out extremely delicious. Even Mum and Little Sis liked them.

We canoed for 2 hours, and then wandered in the woods for another two hours or so and took photos. Mine aren't developed yet, but I got some seriously awesome ones with the new zoom lens. Friend got some awesome photos, too. She took this one of me, which I thoroughly enjoyed:
Her photo are pretty awesome. The website is here

I think I look quite saint-like. 

After our adventure, we went and bought some steaks and cold salads, and I not only successfully operated the barbecue, I managed to NOT overcook out steaks. They were more or less raw and dripping blood. 

In other words, perfectly cooked. 

And the liquor store beside the A&P had my fav beer!

Maine turned me into a beer snob. I now rarely drink beer (which is a good thing, I guess?) because nothing tastes as good as Allagash or Shipyard. And you have to say Shipyard correctly, like a Mainer ("ship-yahhd"). I actually don't drink that much anymore at all in general, come to think of it. Sure I'll have a couple glasses of wine if I'm out to dinner, but I've gone off the drink like for going out to the pub. I used to go get smashed (or at least fairly drunk--never obnoxious or inappropriately drunk because I am a LADY) like every weekend. Idk... it just got old. And I think watching others getting too drunk to the point of inappropriate and embarrassing behavior out in public kind of turned me off liquor. 

Le sigh.

My butt still hurts from the two-hour canoe ride. And it's bruised where my butt-bones touched the metal seat.
-____-

Leg and arm muscles are starting to get sore as well, from working out. Does that mean I'm starting to burn off muscle now? 'Cause my body should be well used to vigorous exercise at this point. There's hardly any wobbly bits left--everything is solid muscle. It's awesome, but also scary at the same time. I don't really want to build a lot of muscle. I just want to be lean. But I feel like if I can't control myself with the exercising, I'm going to start building big muscles. 

Another thing the average normal person doesn't get about being eating disordered--there's usually more to it that just the food. My exercise addiction is still pretty much out of control, as is the usage of yumyums for exercising. I've almost run out of the hardcore vitamins*, so we'll see how I'm doing in a week or so...

Thursday, June 16, 2011

No don't kill it, darling! I'm a Buddhist, I could come back as one of those.

I'm sorry to my wonderful commenters--I'm behind on responding, but I'm getting there!!! 
How are y'all doing with your tarot cards? I almost forgot all about them until a few days ago...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*



As one who values all forms of life, I do not kill bugs. In general. I figure they're not really bothering you (unless of course you're squeamish when it comes to bugs), and unless they sting, bite, or destroy your clothes or the foundations of your house, I see no reason to harm them. If I see a bug in my house, I usually just leave it alone and pretend I saw nothing. If a family member sees a bug and starts screaming, then I'll put the bug outside (or in winter, in the basement so they don't freeze to death). If a spider decides to move into a corner of my bedroom, I will leave it there. Especially in summer, because spiders are quite clever and all the ones I've ever had in my room tend to build their webs directly above my reading lamp, thus catching and destroying any other insect that happens to come into my bedroom at night. 'Tis an unspoken agreement between myself and the spider--I'll leave him alone if he kills mosquitoes. 

I do have exceptions to my non-violence beliefs when it comes to bugs. Mosquitoes die because they bite and make you itchy. Ticks die because they're a bother to the kitties, and they spread lyme disease. One ant may live, but more than one ant means your house has been invaded and so they must be annihilated. House centipedes are Evil, and so they too must be destroyed. I do have the epic worm-phobia, but I don't kill them or wish them harm--they just freak me out and make me vomit. 

Other than that, I don't have a problem with bugs.

One would think that Mother Nature might look kindly upon one such as myself, for not being an arsehole. 

No, instead Mother Nature decides to send her mutant offspring to try and kill me. 

So there I was, driving merrily along Old Route 17 on my way back from just driving around to clear my head (I do that a lot--I can navigate pretty much anywhere within a 200-mile radius of home and never get lost or need to stop for directions), when something landed on my windshield with a rather alarming THUD. 

You know how sometimes when you see or experience something that cannot possibly be real, your reaction time slows down to like a 26th of its normal speed?

It took a few seconds for me to fully register what I was seeing. Because no way could that be real. 


And then

WHAT      THE      FECK         IS            THAT

I almost crashed. No joke. 

Alien? Robot?? Demon???

No. 

It was a giant wasp. That fecker's stinger was like a foot long. The wasp's body was the about the size of my hand. 

After regaining control of my vehicle, I had to pull over. The giant bug with the foot-long stinger did not show any sign of wanting to remove itself from my windshield, and I sure as hell wasn't carrying that thing back to my house so it could reproduce all up in my yard. It had to go. But how do I get rid of it?

I pulled over near the Red Apple Rest.
Sketchiest rest stop of all time.
The bug was still on my windshield.

Now what?

I wasn't getting out of the car, that's for damn sure.

I tried revving the engine. 
Bug didn't move.

Banging on the window.
Bug didn't move.

Honking the horn. 
Nope.

Flailing around like a lunatic to make the car shake. 
Negative.

I couldn't use the windshield wipers because a) it might kill the giant bug-demon and it's not the poor bug's fault it's a mutant; and b) I really didn't want a bug that size smeared all over the windshield.

So I assessed the items at my disposal. I keep a lot of crap in my car:
- 2 brush things for removing snow and scraping off ice
- hiking boots
- hiking bag containing compass, emergency food (V8 and fiber bars), and hunting knife
- 7 rolls of unused 35mm film
- 4 rolls of used undeveloped 35mm film
- toothbrush
- toothpaste samples
- umbrella
- parasol
- reusable shopping bag
- 6 almost-empty soda and water bottles
- 2 full water bottles (for emergencies)
- 2 dead cigarette lighters
- my glasses
- bag of sugar free caramel candies
- napkins
- spare compass
- Off! bug repellent
- asthma inhaler (no idea--I do not have asthma)
- large pile of Equal packets
- 2 drinking straws, still in wrappers
- 1 drinking straw, cut into 3 smaller pieces (shut up)
- eye drops
- TomTom GPS thingy
- clean underwear
- spare t-shirt
- clean sweatshirt
- pedometer
- Wimpy
- 2 car chargers for my cell phone
- 2 giant bouncy balls



- 1 length of bungee cord
- Rosary beads
- 1 pair of old Kangaroo sneakers
- 1 box tissues

I figured I could use the longer of the two ice scrapers, open the window a crack, and try to poke and bother the giant wasp until it flew away. If that didn't work, I figured I could make bug repelling spit balls with the Off! and tissues and shoot them at the wasp with one of the straws. But thankfully the ice scraper did the trick. Giant wasp flew away.

I spent the next several minutes using the windshield washers until I could be absolutely certain that any eggs the bug might have laid were destroyed. 

In other news....
~~I have caused a rather large disturbance in my house. Step-Bro#1 was over yesterday with his son (really adorable pixie-faced 6-yr-old with anger management problems). I've talked about Step-Bro#1's status as a waste of space before. He hasn't changed--still jobless, still an alcoholic, and still a thief. Most recently, he took Step-Dad's AmEx card on holiday and maxed it out. 

Like for real? You're almost 40 years old, and you're maxing out your parent's credit card??

Yeah well he was over last night with Pixie-kid and I watched as he drank his way through SEVEN bottles of Budweiser. I told Mum on the way out to the gym that he'd had 7 beers, and if he tried to drive the kid home she should tell him he'd had too much to drink--let her or Step-Dad drive Pixie-kid home, or call me and I would have taken him home. Mum was like yeah totally.

But Mum is all talk. She let Step-Bro#1 drive Pixie-kid home. 

So when I got home, I told Step-Dad in no uncertain terms that if Step-Bro#1 ever did that again and refused to let one of us take the kid home (which he would refuse, because he's had many custody issues with kid and kid's mom), then I would call the police and Pixie-kid's mother. I don't want to be an as$hole, so I figured I'd give them fair warning in the hopes that maybe Step-Bro#1 could put the effing bottle down and NOT drive his kid while he's sh*tfaced. 

You'd think I'd just told Step-Dad I was going to shoot Step-Bro#1 myself. 

How dare I!! Who the heck do I think I am?!? He's not doing anything wrong, just having a couple beers with dinner!!

-___-

I was like yeah ok whatever dude. I'm not fighting. He tries to drive the child home again while drunk, I'm calling the cops. End of story. Because if something happens to that kid and we never did anything about it, it's on us. So Step-Dad and Step-Bro#1 can go do themselves up the butt. 

Step-Bro#1 and Pixie-kid come over a lot once we open the pool, so this should get fun pretty soon...


~~I haven't eaten anything in two days. 


~~It's weird how another person can elicit 2 completely contrary involuntary physical reactions in one's bowels. 

Paul #1 for example, makes me feel like I'm being stabbed in the abdomen with a blunt hunting knife while simultaneously having a flock of magical glittering hummingbirds floating around somewhere just to the left of my belly button. 

Someone needs to keep me away from computers when I'm drunk. Or at least away from Facebook. Upon waking my computer up yesterday morning to email myself some notes on the Fairy Queen (I'm typing and posting two new chapters just for you, Honor!), I found that I still had Chrome open on my desktop, open to my "sent" messages on Facebook. And guess what the second message down was, right underneath a message I apparently sent to Cousin Patrick informing him that I was about to mail him 50 lbs of heroin? 

I sent a message to Paul #1 at 1.28 AM. 

-___________________-

I didn't work up the balls to read it until I got to work. Thankfully it wasn't that bad--just a quick hey what's up it's been a while kind of message. 

But still--WHAT THE EFF?!?

P#1 never answered. But out of the blue, J (P1's friend who I had an affair with, and who eventually was responsible for patching things up between P1 and I) texts me this afternoon to see what I'm up to this weekend. 
(There were no blunt hunting knife reactions for J, just magical glittering hummingbirds somewhere in the vicinity of my G-spot.)

I refuse to believe that these events are unconnected. But I'll have to speak to J more to find out. 


Wow, that was kind of a long post. Sorry if you're now bored out of your tree! But I'm afraid I cannot refund your time. IT'S ALL MINE NOW. :D

Later, lovelies! Off to the gym, and then I shall spend the rest of my night doing laundry and catching up on your blogs. <3