After writing two entries in my "private blog" of my eating disorder, I decided writing all of that was as much work as sifting through was is actually bothering me. And, for some reason, I seem to complain a lot, and moan and groan about people I love and some I don't. You would think you'd come to some resolve, but reading it again later, doesn't bring clarity for me, it hampers my recovery. So, I'm making it a point to tell a little bit about whatever it is I want to talk about on my blog at random times. It seems a bit odd. You'd think I'd just phone a friend or my sisters or that I'd just journal. But I kind of want to share somethings in my recovery. I want people to understand the normalcy of an eating disorder instead of it feeling more like a red-alert or a label. I guess I also want to just share my life too. We all have struggles and we all have joy. I like to hear both sides of peoples' life if they want to so share. So, in between my beautiful life of being a mother and posting the most adorable pictures of my American Dream, you'll also get buffed on the mortality of me as a human being. If you don't want to know, don't read.
Okay, now I'm out of time, but here's something I've thought of for quite a while: Anorectic vs Anorexic. What is the difference? I didn't know and thought nothing of it until Gwen (my amazing eat.dis. therapist) brought it to my attention. Anorectic is a tendency toward, a way of thinking or analyzing. Anorexic is a person in the action of Anorexia; a person actually in the act of starving. Now I know you can cruise the internet and find that my definitions don't necessarily match other searches. But, how-now, this is what Gwen and I talked about, so I'm sticking to this and I don't really care if I'm technically wrong, it's truth to me. When I was around twelve I started showing signs of an Anorectic mind, by 14 I was Anorexic. Didn't last long, by 15 I was treated in an adolescent hospital (I've always wished our insurance would have covered Center for Change, but now I see my journey was lead my God's hand.) While I was in the hospital I committed to God to never starve myself or doing anything extreme to my body if He would always be there for me. From that day I stopped hiding food, using diuretics, starving, over exercising, counting calories that didn't exist, etc. All of the actions stopped, but it took many years to change my thinking patterns. It's easy to control the body, but the mind is a willful
and stubborn old man. Positive changes in my life happened, I experienced what it was like to laugh at a story being told even though there was food in the room. I still remember the day I felt satiety kick in. It was at my senior Lakette Banquette. I'll never forget it. It is a golden memory stands as a tender mercy from God for me to treasure. There were a lot of hardships. Gwen and I use this phrase, "pendulum swings". It took me five years to naturally say, 'stop, you feel great, don't eat that anymore'. One night on our way home from Cottages and Cranberries I ate almost an entire loaf of bread from Great Harvest. I could not stop eating. I wanted to, I felt so full I started to cry. I felt awful shame, but I could not regain any self-regulation. It is the same feeling as starving yourself really.
