Remembering September II

Last year in September I had started my recovery.  I had been B/P free until June. During those 9 months of my recovery I had some serious medical problems, some good and really close people died, my relationship went through a serious crisis – but I had managed all those things without turning into food. I was proud, I was happy, I was alive.

And then I had a relapse.

But let me start the story from Her.

It’s my lady cat - Missy. She’s 5. I absolutely love her. She is all about elegance and grace. She walks, sits, eats and sleeps in a princess like manner. She’s very kind and quiet.  And even though she’s “all about her” character – I know she loves be back as much as I her.

She was my BF cat.

I remember him telling “I have a cat” on the first date. I thought “What a hell? Something must be wrong with you?... A bodybuilder and a cat?” the picture just did not fit. Later on I’d discovered that it was his ex-girlfriend that was missing in that picture. She had wanted a cat as a gift so he’s got her one and after they broke up – she left him and her cat for good. I’d though we’ll never make friends with Missy, but very soon we made a family. We hung out together all the time. She liked sleeping with me, together we were looking at the fashion blogs for inspiration :))

My BF called us “My skinny girls” And I couldn’t bear a though of losing her. Ever.

Missy never liked being outside. From time to time we were letting her out but she never left our back yard and we could spot her though the window anytime.

One sunny day of July Missy went out and did not came back – nor that day, nor the other. She was missing for a week and I was looking for her everywhere and anywhere I could possibly thought of. One day I got a call from the animal shelter. I was informed that someone brought a Russian blue to them, so I rushed there. As I entered the hall with the cages full of all unwanted or found animals my heart sunk. I approached little kitty in grey fur just like Missy, took the shaking and trembling cat to my arms but it wasn’t her… for more than an hour I couldn’t let go of that little homeless creature that needed love as much as the other twenty three imprisoned there. I wept. I couldn’t handle it. The pain was unbearable. After leaving the shelter I rushed to the nearest supermarket – I needed to calm down and all I could think of was food. I binged and purged heavily that day. And the next one and the next and the next and the next… I stopped exercising. I pushed away my BF yet again. I WANTED MY CAT and I was losing hope ever finding her. This was the feeling I couldn’t deal with. It continued for a month (Missy was still missing) and the situation was getting out of control. Bulimia blossomed…
My BF saw me getting skinny again, sad, angry and lost - he approached me and I told him that I’d returned to my ED.  He packed our things and took me to Paris for a weekend. He knew I loved Paris and in Paris I once again promised to recover.

After returning home my wonderful man suggested getting a new cat. NO. I was not excited at all. I wanted my Missy. No other cat could have replaced her. NO!!! (...to be continued)

Happy National Coffee Day!

I love my coffee. Forever.

Today's treat: always black, with the dash of cinnamon.

Sincerely yours

How do you love your coffee?

Remembering September I

Last year in September I had started my recovery.  

I had attempted recovery so many times. Sometimes it had lasted for a day, sometimes for a couple of months, but that September morning I knew – I’M DONE with my ED FOR GOOD.

The 29^th of September, 2010 I woke up, looked around my messy kitchen – I had a huge b/p party the previous night, and I just wanted it all to stop. I was done with trying to be model thin, done with spending money on things that went down the toilet, done with having no time for my friends, family and BF (cause it was all spent up on b/p sessions), done with hiding and lying and trying to be “fake” happy all the time. I was completely and utterly TIRED and WORN OUT in trying to be, what my mind perceived as, beautiful.

I just wanted to stop exhausting myself in trying to be some unrealistic ideal.

That day was great.

The other were too. Some of them better, some of them worse. My bulimic mind was healing and I was ecstatic to LIVE MY LIFE.

 Up until one day in June. By that time my cat had been missing for a week… (to be continued :))

Today I Love

Today I love…

Him.

I just do.

Them.

They always make me smile.

Autumn.

Sunny days like today.

My first coffee in the morning.

My homemade sushi.

My snack.

My wine.

My fellow blogger Nicole and her Gwendolyn.

Their blog inspires me every day.

Me.

I just do.

What do you love today?

Recovery Bloating

Yesterday I’d covered one of the worst things my body had to go through during recovery – weight gain. I just want to clear things out.

1) it’s common to gain weigh after stopping B/P.

2) however most exbulimics lose weight when they start to treat their bodies properly.

3) I had gain so much because I was underweight.

4) I still eat probably more than I need to because I want to gain – in order to look healthy.

The other issue that I had to deal with was BLOATING

Note: it’s normal and temporary.

Early in my recovery I felt that I wasn’t digesting anything. I felt like food was accumulating in my stomach and filling me to the point of pooping or purging. I thought I had lost my ability to digesting food.

Ten B/P days free. I can barely see my eyes…

But what was actually happening to me was a serious case of bulimia recovery bloat. It was severe for the first month of recovery. I felt 5 months pregnant. My face looked all swollen. Gradually after the first month it began to subside. And after a couple of weeks it was all gone.

No doubt that recovery bloat is hard to tolerate, but it’s not unbearable.

Purging kills the healthy bacteria in our tummies, which are essential for digestion. When this bacteria is scarce food sits in our tummies and ferments. This causes bloating tummy pain and wind. To help to restore this bacteria you can take probiotic pills or healthy digestion enzymes.

Anyway I pushed though. And I would never want to go through that again. So there’s no looking back.

Bloating is temporary, recovery is forever.

Short term discomfort for long happy life.

Bloated does not mean fat – it means recovering!

Weight

I’m struggling a bit, but as my friend Nicole says “no matter how much one might be hurt, stressed, or angry - things will never be bad.  They will never be bulimic, ever, ever again.  Therefore, because of that, life is always good”

However, in this beautiful non bulimic life there are things I stress about. One of them is Monday.

Mondays are my weight ins.

And today I feel large.

Even though i managed to kick the B/P habit, I am still nervous of what would happen to my weight...

I’d started my recovery being underweight. Consequently, I expected and even WANTED to gain some kilos. I clearly recall my first weight in after a whole B/P free week:

I had terrible visions of myself gaining 2 or 3 kg’s in my first week of recovery.

But I was committed to it so much - I stayed away from the scales for 1 week...

When I came to weight myself - I felt faint. I was SHOCKED!

I had gained 4 kg’s (10 pounds) in 1 week!

I thank God that I didn’t throw in the towel that day... But I was so close.

I still am – every time the Monday comes. Every Monday I’m a bit heavier and every Monday I play the same talk with myself:

You are eating too much.

You eat too much fat.

You don’t exercise enough.

You should start doing some cardio…

You should count calories.

Stop drinking wine.

Then I have to stop myself, and remind that my body is healing. That the body I had hated for so long has to find it's natural weight where it functions best. It's the weight where my skin will glow and my hair will shine. It's the weight where I'll be most fertile and have the greatest longevity...

But when it’s enough? When does the peace come?

Maybe after hiding the scale?

Why do I weight? Why does the number still defines me?

It’s just the number. It’s not me.

I really hope to forget to weight next Monday.

How often do you weight yourself?

My Affair with Chocolate

I thought of giving up primal.

Well not completely. I love non processed food, fresh meat, vegetables and good fats, but I thought that I am smart and strong enough to start making my own decisions,while not following any diet patterns.

A week ago I’d received this beautiful box of French chocolate truffes.

Even without looking at the nutrition facts I knew it was not 85% or even 70% dark chocolate – therefore no way I could enjoy it. Because it’s not primal and because it’ll give me cravings I desperately want to avoid.

But a few days ago I craved it badly.

I had waited for 15 minutes, drank wanted, then drank some cinnamon tea – I still wanted chocolate – just a couple of those truffes.  I was terrified. In my bulimic life the one in my mouth was always the precursor to the ten that came after it and the two bags after that. In a normal dieting mentality, giving me chocolate would be like handing an ax to an ax murderer. A few days before I’d not had a good experience with the chocolate either.  However I thought I could handle it. I sat down. Focused on what I was doing and took one bite…

One bite.

It was divine.

I took that bite slowly, as if heaven existed right here, right now, and I’d deserved to experience it. 

I had two of those.

I put the box away.

After a half on an hour I was having ten more… there I panicked.

What the hell was happening? I was mad, furious, frustrated. I was facing all bad about being a failure yet again…

But it wasn’t the worst – I started to experience some fatigue and sluggishness. My body felt sick.

I’d sucked it up. Had my wine and went to bed.

The next morning I wrote this: If sugar is a food that causes me to want more of it, and if I eat more than what feels good in my body, then I have a decision to make: Do I keep sugar in my life because it tastes good, or do I eliminate it because I don,t feel good when I'm eating it?

My body wants to feel good. It wants energy. It wants to feel alive and passionate about the new day.. I have to return to trusting my body because it knows what to eat. My mind however might not know. My mind might be screaming and shouting that it wants chocolate cake, but my body might be asking for an apple. I have to return to the voice of your body. Trust that much. 

I love chocolate. I’ll miss chocolate. However me and chocolate – NO MATCH.

Did you eliminate certain food or food groups ? And why?

Falling in Love with Food. Part Two.

Today I’m falling in love with food. How it all started you may read in Part One

And now for the part two.

As I have mentioned I realized I had never loved what I ate. Nothing I had been consuming felt like gusto, joy, or pleasure.

I tried to imagine what my life would be like if I let myself eat with passion. If I felt entitled, no matter what I’d weighed, to eat with gusto.

So I gave in and tried.

Subsequently, I had discovered that foods I loved — as well as those I didn't — truly do give me pleasure, and there's no price tag attached. And that's how it should be. I mean, why not be astonished by the crisp taste of an apple or revel in the smooth texture of an olive? Since I need to eat to live, why let one moment of joy — even one — pass me by?

I've never met anyone who has ever lost weight — and kept it off — by deprivation.

We are sensory, pleasure-loving beings. It is not just calories that fill us up, but the joy we take from eating them.

Today I’m falling in love with every bite I take. And every time it’s exciting, because every time it’s a date and every time I’m more and more thrilled about it.

Dress up, ladies; sit straight, light up a candle, put on some music and LOVE your food.

How do you love your food?

WIAW!!!

What’s up with WIAW craze? Ok, maybe I’m too old to understand but in order to be fashionable I’m doing it today:

Morning coffee

Breakfast :
Salad with feta, olives, greens, peppers, tomatoes and EVOO.
I guess someday I’ll do a post about me living in Greece for two years . There I fell in love with feta, EVOO, sea food and white wine. Every time I have a Greek salad want to go back there.

Lunch:
Chicken breast, rice and a salad.

Snack/dinner:
Octopus in olive oil.

Tuna, egg and cucumber.

Dessert: I ate more than a half of the thing!

The END

Is there any food you fell in love in the foreign country?

My Simple Monday

My simple monday had started with this 6.30 am:

Then work.

Breakfast/snack at 11am: two hard boiled eggs, tuna in olive oil, salad with EVOO.

Workout at 1.30 am: chest/shoulders and triceps day.

Late lunch 4 pm: pike and brown rice.



Some work. Interrupted (of course)

Dinner 7.30 pm: huge chicken breast, an egg, cucumbers, marinated mushrooms.

Late snack 9 pm: some mixed nuts, gourmet parmesan and of course VINO

So that was my simple monday. Well, I eat quite a lot. Hope you do too J

One Week after the Primal Challenge

So a week ago I applied myself to challenge.

The goals were:

1. to eliminate dairy from my diet - I couldn't say no to some goat and blue cheese. Therefore I decided to eat some cheese here and there. I just looooooove the stuff so much.

2. to commit to weight lifting - I did two workouts! I had to do four :( Not bad, but not so great also.

3. to try some new stuff, like yoga - Never happened :( Bad!

I try not to be tough on myself.

However, it’s kind of upsetting… anyway, new week, same goals – hope to accomplish more this time.

Oh, and my mornings now are like that:

A coffee and a cat (sometimes two)

So what’s your take on not meeting the goals you’ve set for yourself?

Sunday treats

Cocoa covered almonds for breakfast and COFFEE.

Lunch: Chicken “breaded” in almond flour and rice.

Home made sushi with vegetables for dinner.

Dessert: blue cheese, mixed nuts and wine.

And this.

How did you celebrate your Sunday?

Falling in Love with Food. Part One.

I’m falling in love with food.

Yes it’s a sentence written by ex-bulimic.

One may wonder wasn’t life always about food? Oh, yes. It WAS.

I thought I liked food and I liked it too much. I mean I was thinking about it every moment. I was spending all my hard earned money on it. I was willing to drive 20 miles out of my way for my favorite snack. I was over the moon about food. I loved food. I really thought so. Boy I was wrong.

The connection between me and food was so close, deep and affectionate – it seemed like love. However it was not. It was some screwed, abused based relationship - sick passion with the trace of despair, emptiness and hearted for life.

I wanted out of this relationship. I wanted it to be over. Permanently.

But of course, I couldn’t give up eating altogether.

I knew I had to change my connection to eating somehow. Thus I thought I needed to start enjoying it less, not more!

WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.

As soon as I started recovery I ate crap. Some plain chicken breast with broccoli. Tuna inn brine. Fat free yogurt. I hated it.

Then again I had no idea how to fix my relationship with food.

One afternoon  while spending  time with my BF, after not seeing him for whole three days, I was thinking of how much I loved him, and how dear  the time that we were spending together was. Then it hit me:

I had never loved food. I had not actually liked it at all.

I mean when you love something, you spend time with it. You pay attention to it. You enjoy it. And although I thought incessantly about food, I used to consume meals as if they were stolen pleasures. As if I was not really allowed to have them, let alone had rollicking times eating them.

For me food was not allowed to be itself: a source of pleasure, joy, and nourishment. Instead, food was the middleman between feeling something I didn’t want to feel and numbing or distracting myself from feeling it. I did not eat for enjoyment, taste, or particular sensations, I ate for the effect the food had on me. Food was my drug of choice.

There’s No Right Food Philosophy

After discovering Nicole’s blog I have been rethinking my diet.


I always do after I stumble upon some ED recovery’s philosophy on food. I find it miraculous when food works as a collaborator in their healing. And sure I always want to try it. Maybe it is better than mine; maybe it’ll heal me too.


WRONG.


When I was ready for recovery a year ago, I needed a plan. The books I had read on Bulimia proclaimed the structured eating plan and the legalization of all food. The plan sounded good, but I could never stick to eat. EVER. Feeling a failure I dig deeper to the net and found out some interesting recovered girls’ stories proclaiming the different approach to food – vegetarian, vegan, sugar free, gluten free, low carb, eating chocolate every day, intuitive diet, eating six times a day, fasting for a half of the day and so on and so forth…


And I’ve tried them all.


Some of them lasted for a week, some for a half of the day. And instead of feeling a failure this time I pretended to be a detective in a search for my own holy grail. It took time, but I found it, stuck to it and was healed. (Of course food was just a part of the whole recovery, but the big one)


I guess, my rambling today is about how no diet or way of eating is ever going to work the same for two people.


Even though we share the same history of the disease, similar interests and views on the world - we are not the same. One will never know what works for him until he allows himself to find out. Following other peoples path doesn’t work. Recovery means discovering what you are. What do you like eating? When do you like eating? How do you feel after eating certain foods, and what do you really crave: the chocolate or a hug? It will never be the same as it is for Nicole or for me, or other ex-bulimic. There’s no right recovery or food philosophy, cause at the end we all look for the happiness and health.


Speaking on my philosophy: last night’s dinner:

Scrambled eggs

wine

and goat cheese. Yes, it's dairy. I'm so bad....

So, do you have your food philosophy?

Avoiding The Pitfall Of Comparing Myself To Others

So I have a very beautiful model like colleague. We’re friends. At work we eat lunch together, chat over a cup of coffee in the lounge and enjoying eatch other’s company. She is very friendly and nice, but there are days like yesterday I start comparing myself to her:
She’s so much more beautiful than me.
She is smarter.
She is so sociable. People like her way more than me.
Her boobs are bigger
I wish my hair was like that.
Her clothes are better.
Her legs are so much longer than mine.
That girls body is amazing, so much better than mine...
She smiles so beautifully, I wish to smile like that.
She eats whatever she likes but she could be the Victoria Secrets' model, if she’d wanted to.
And so on and so forth.
Comparing, comparing, comparing...
It’s exhausting.
Comparing myself to her is always like fuelling my bulimia...
She’s all I’m not….

But DO I HAVE TO BE?
I DON,T .
Because I’M NOT HER.
I AM ENOUGH, I HAVE ENOUGH, I DO ENOUGH.
Learning to be me… UNPERFECT ;)

 Take care, sweeties ;)