Triggers dissipate

Since my last post my triggers have lessened. When I reflect on my past with ED, I realise every time how far I have come. Especially mentally. Physically, I am still overweight for my height and I need to start exercising. Mentally however, I am more aware and relatively accepting of who I am. So even when there are bad days it becomes somewhat easier and quicker to bounce back to my one and only objective. Accept life’s challenges and enjoy life’s repetitiveness and spontaneity.

Last week and this week triggers decreased without me really constantly focusing on them. I just went about my days and included treats in my routine. Not edible treats but experiences. On my own: cinema, walking in the park, at the beach with my dog and with others: cocktails with a good friend and Thai food with nice colleagues. I also worked on my jewelry making, that always draws me back to a more balanced state with a grounded sense of self.

I have also decided that I will be sharing tips on my “me times” because I started experimenting with using natural beauty products and to encourage others who are recovering from, living with ED, BED, self-esteem issues, body confidence to take the time to care for YOU without resorting to the good old frenemy FOOD. You can find these tips on the category “natural care”.

Take care !

xoxoxo

I.

To my eating disorder … Go away !

If only I could tell it to just leave. Leave forever and never come back. Don’t linger here thinking you will get a hold of me again.

This morning I had to get my yearly referral for my psychologist. New GP. So I had to explain my story all over again. Where do I even start? When I was 14/15 bla bla bla bla.

Of course she has my file but I still have to explain. So the waterworks started. Memories are back. Feelings are here. I am 28 now and I still cry when I have to re-open the wound of my eating disorder. Quite frankly, I want it gone. Everyday I struggle. When I make it to bed without having restricted, purged or binged. It is my victory.

Lately there have been more victories. I love that. I love my life and I am liking myself. Hey ! I am not all that bad.

I am here to vent. I need to vent. I need to tell eating disorder voices to go away. Leave ! you have no audience in my head and there is no space left for you in my life.

You all know it is not as simple as that. Even so, today I am victorious again.

xoxox

i.

Be kind to you

The beauty of blogging is in the freedom to write or not write. I have not been writing lately for no particular reason other than it just has not been the right time and I have not been in the right mindset. That said, my struggle to “be” continues. At times the fight is harder and in rare moments I am able to find some peace. I cherish those moments. Walks by the dunes, staring at the beach, the sky, the stars, drawing, designing, making clothes.

Then, there, I fell free, connected, one body, one soul. My physical appearance no longer matters. My bulging stomach becomes an insignificant worry and the XXL clothes? Well … just another thing of this world.

Since I last wrote, I have moved away from London, traveled to Africa and now back in the Netherlands. It has been a long long journey. I started a new job, a tedious, toxic one, but that was my choice. Now I need to work on getting out of it and finding something better. Living a well deserved life demands effort.

When I am not drained of energy, I motivate myself towards my freedom. Towards being the person that I really want to be. Although that remains undefined, I know aspects of what brings me peace within. Creativity being one of them. Self-expression, whether confronting a small conflict or asserting my ideas is another.

Since I have been denying myself of that right to “be”, it seems easier to give in and settle with the mistaken habits, of being someone else; until I realize, all I am doing is giving my power away to invisible influences. Quickly, I lose myself.

So, the struggle continues. I suspect, there is a high probability that  this will be a lifetime struggle. Though I hope, it will become easier with time.

I used to think that I needed a break from the World because it was so mean to me. Truth is, I was cruel to myself. Then I had another realization. There will always be bitter times, the trick is to live it. Feel it. I do not want to forget or escape anymore. It has not worked. Bingeing, over-exercising, starving, trying to be perfect has not worked. Self-torture has failed. Self-love is surely the answer.

I hope to have a little more of it today, tomorrow and in all the other days I have left on this earth.

This I write to you and myself, so we both remember to “be”.

izaotee

Rain

When London rains, I reconnect with the city. The double decker buses shine their devilish red just enough below the gloomy skies. The sounds of rain drops camouflage the urban noises that sometimes clouds even the clearest summer days. Everything slows down for a breath of life. The city finds its right pace.

London was designed for its rain. They compliment each other like a dress that fits perfectly on the right silhouette. Without these tears from heaven the city  has no soul, it is out of control. Red bricks clash with the grey concrete of all too many street, too busy, too much, too harsh.

I am relieved that it rained today. I have gone two days without a binge and one overeating. The past two days I drew, collaged, paid bills looked for a new appartment and drew some more. I felt alive again. Those were sunny unfamiliar days. Thoughts did not consume me. I was shining inside. The rain drew me closer to the world. It made me want to get out of my bubble with enough safety that I could belong just for a moment in London. But I didn’t instead I used it as an excuse to stay inside one more day.

This morning it became more challenging to move past the anxiety and worries. I have not binged or overeaten. But  I need some space. Time to contemplate. I wanted to go out view some appartments and pay more bills but deep down I do not feel motivated. So when it started raining, there I found yet another excuse to stay in.

I loved the rain more from inside my appartment.

So here I am admiring the city under its rain drops trying to stitch my mind and body so that it does not tear apart and crave for an escape because of unresolved real and unreal conflicts that I deliberately ignored.

There lies the struggles today

Izaotee

A thought for my father

If you have been reading the previous post. You would know that I walked out to the nearest starbucks for breakfast this morning. You might think it would be a trigger. Yet, I learned that it only becomes a trigger if I walk in while in a vulnerable place inside. So fragile that all I would want to do is escape. Reach for that fix. Run away from emotions that make me human.  I only needed a change of scene. I stayed in my apartment all day yesterday and it smelled like regrets, guilt and binge.

No make-up on, hair like a cave woman, clothes not matching. I needed to get out. Get some perspective. Get some space from my space. Then, after my little morning outing and grocery shopping. I came back to my niche. I broke down crying while printing images for my design research and listening to music. I cried because I missed my Dad. The thought was triggered as I was processing the bad news I received on tuesday. My cousin past away and lost her battle with breast cancer. She was only 32 years old. Diagnosed at 27. She left her husband and two boys of 9 and 7.

I wasn’t really close to her at all. My family always teased me about looking like her. Especially as she gained weight. To who-else compare the newly chubby girl than with the old chubby girl? I hated that comparison. She was also the youngest and only daughter. Any death is sad though I was never very close to her. Even so, it made think about my father and his passing. The void that he had left. Times I wish I spent with him, words I wish I had said. I never allowed myself the right to grieve until I started therapy again about a year ago. I thought that just like my mother, I was at peace with his departure. A lie. I was tirelessly restricting trying to be the perfect daughter.

Now, I let myself, miss him in the comfort of my room or my apartment here in London. Away from the stares and opinions. I truly miss him. I wish he was here. I wonder how things would differ if he was. Would I have held my ground and kept myself together? Would I have continued to keep a facade, try to the best of my ability to make my parents and brothers proud? Or would the real me, denied of the rights to freely live still push itself out anyway and demand its place in my world?

In a way, I believe not much would have changed. I would still discover my love for arts, face my struggles with food, continue to doubt my abilities to deal with those in the legal field. With or without him. Even if he was and always will be a part of me and has left an unforgettable print in my life, I cannot help but become the true person I am meant to be. Denying myself the right to “be who I am” in his presence or absence would still lead me to self-abuse.

Caught up in my overthinking. I miss my father. As simple a thought as that.

xoxoxoxo

I.

Lost in the illusion of being alright

I have been lying to myself. Taking unnecessary medicines. Hallucinating on an illness that is far from being physical. A call for attention. A self imposed challenge out of desperation. Most times I wonder why I hurt. Whether I have the right to feel sad. To complain.

Still struggling with the ability to find the balance between an intellectual and emotional intelligence. Feeling as if I have lost all competence of rationalising. Blinded by created and unreal happiness. I have forged relationships. Ones based on friendship or so they say. One deviating towards a cocktail of sentiments.

Lost in waves of feel good motions and regrets. Knowingly aware of irresponsible decisions. Still making them.Paranoid by their possible repercussions. Before God and family. Wondering whether I should be selfish for once and put myself first. Assert my wants and needs.

A few months ago. While working amongst lawyers and judges another world to which I belong. I wanted an escape from my perfectionist and controlling self. Thinking of a venture filled and dominated by mistakes. Of accountability and repercussions. A sabbatical year fits with my objectives. I would create a time filled with freedom and responsibilities. Learning to juggle and prioritise on my own if none else would teach.

I wanted to make mistakes. To shake up the status quo. Live a little. They say negativity, loss of control and mistakes are challenges a lifetime must meet. Endure. Let go and learn from. In tune. I moved back home. Where I feel secure. Now I feel exposed. Judged. Creating a life of judgment.

Terrified of what might and could happen. As I am conscious of the different turn my life has taken. I wonder how far I can go. I am willing to go. Whether I want to leave my lawyerly life and embrace home and all the freedom it allows.

My instinct tell me it is only alright for a short while.

I decide to keep indulging until my hour is up.

izaoty

 

I want to seal the can of worms

Since my loss of control I have made every effort for it to count for something. I let myself feel. I try every day to lessen the disconnection between my mind and my body. When I feel whole, I am content. At peace inside. Though I look fat and weigh too much for my frame. I do not feel fat. I just accept what has become of me. Telling myself it is only temporary and the priority now is to have a healthier mind.

Working towards a healthier mind. Feeling, sitting with my emotions and letting thoughts and fears be just that is exhausting. It consumes my energy sometimes but it seems to be necessary. When I do I need not to run to comfort and escape. I don’t need to be numbed.

I wish I had the ability and sense to face reality: pain, joy, sadness, stress in a stable way. I wish I never pushed them and locked them in a box inside me. At least I have learned the lesson now. It seems endless at the moment. I fear I will never get out of it. I will be obese again. I will keep drowning.

Battling not to escape or be dictated by new and unresolved emotions everyday has been tumultuous and unsettling. I am constantly training my mind not to give into my addiction and when it drifts towards food, I have to pull it back to the present. When I don’t.  I binge.

I am sure many of you have experienced this before. I admire you for powering through it because today I wish I could seal the can of worms tight. So tight it will never pop open again. But I know the mature and healthier way is to deal with it. So today I choose to deal even with the sliver of energy I have left.

Fell again

I thought i started the week fine until i binged again last night. Here is post binge attempt at eating and not restricting

I did not have the strength to go through the details until now.

I had two good days.
Sat with my feelings when urges came around. It was a difficult and painful process. Undoubtedly worth it as my eating was in check. Food was simply an essential life accessory. I was not overeating or undereating .

Then I slipped and fell.
I was exhausted from all the self psychoanalysis. Caught in a moment of vulnerability, I binged.
I did not want to sulk in self-pity or shame for the rest of the week. So after overcoming my hesitations and embarrassment, I called my therapist. Seeking a little support, some clarity. We talked things over.

Now?
I am trying to focus on picking myself up. I had the willpower and strength before. I can do it again.

Strength ! I shall find you now.

A tiny victory however a few weeks ago I was in a state of constantly numbing myself with food. Completely escaping the responsibilities of dealing with my ghosts.

No binge day

20 th of september about two months ago I fell out of control. My eating that is. I hate the word binge. But that is what it was. I put on 20 kg since. Unbelievable my trainer at the gym says. If only he knew the truth he would understand. I don’t tell. If I do, i’ll only feel exposed, judged. I know this because when I did long ago that is exactly how I felt. This is my struggle, a part of who I am that I want to change. Food will not enslave me.

Anyway yesterday I did not restrict or binge. It is always somehow easier during the day. At night is the worst. After an attempt at a balanced dinner. Rice, fish and cauliflower. I rummaged through my kitchen looking for a fix. I don’t keep food in my apartment anymore. At least not for now. Until i am a little stronger. Then I stopped. Couldn’t fall asleep. Started drawing. My back hurt. It was so painful. I knew it was all the feelings and anxiety calling out for attention. So instead of numbing it with food I gave it the attention it wanted. I felt lonely. Though i knew I wasn’t alone. Worthless. Wondering why the guys I met who seemed interested in me never wanted to spend more time with me. Was it because I wasn’t pretty enough, tall enough, thin enough? What was it? I then fell asleep listening to music.
I don’t have the answers to those question. I didn’t tell myself that I am better than that or beauty is within me. I just let it be. Too tired to self hate I fell asleep.

I know I have other qualities. Being the thinnest person in the room will not enhance them. My quest and desire for a perfect body is not a solution. I have to learn to be proud of myself sometimes.

A little victory — no binge
Phewww

Dear Dad

Dad left this world about two years ago
He is amongst the angels
Here are words I wish I had said
Everyday I miss him

Good morning Dad
I decided to write letters to you even if you are gone. Let me first confess that I always wanted to write on your birthdays, father’s day, christmas and so many other days while you were alive. I bought cards, just for you. I still have them. Never sent them. Not because I do not love you, simply because we don’t really do that in our family. We never show emotions. When we do, we brush it off. Dismiss it. I have grown accustomed to that. I don’t know how you, mum, and brothers do it. It turns out that I am more emotional than I portray. I kept them in all these years. Sadness, happiness, anger, all kinds of feelings. Suppressed, jammed down, hidden deep down. What do you know. They want out. Always wanted a way out. I realise now that this is one cause of my addiction to food.

Just this morning I thought about flapjacks, starbucks cinnamon rolls and pumpkin spice lattes. Indulging myself, seeking comfort. Using the idea of going to a cafe to write and people watch as an excuse to eat. It’s a cold and grey morning. Truth is I would rather stay in bed than get up and sit at a cafe. I would just to satisfy my addiction. Instead. I stared at my exploding body in the mirror. I didn’t hate it. I missed my old body. The fit, thin one. These thoughts are once again an attempt to escape. When, the fact is that I missed you. My heart wanted to drift away from my brain. Old habits die hard. I learned from the past and instead of giving in. I stayed in my apartment to write this letter. I miss you everyday. It is not the food or the self-hate that creates this disconnection between my body and mind. The real thoughts and feelings were about you not the cakes, cookies or chocolates. They were about How one day you were here, still joking with me. Welcoming me when I arrived home. The next you were weak. So weak and tired. No one even noticed. I did. I mentioned it to Daniel, brother who loves you so much. You died in his arms, I wish they were mine. He said it was the medicine that caused your fatigue. We should not have travelled that day. I wish I listened to my gut feeling and insisted on taking you to the hospital. I cannot turn back time now. Mum says it was your time to go. To leave this world. Even if we took you earlier to the hospital you would have left us anyway. She says what God does is right. We just have to accept it. But did God ever thought about how your absence would be so painful. Dad I miss you. May be mum is right, we all die some day right. I just wish I had gone first if it hurts this much.
Dad I don’t want to binge anymore. I don’t want to abuse my body anymore. It is tired and so is my mind.

I miss you
Love