amping up my recovery!

I feel inspired to work a stronger program.  Here are the things I did today for my recovery...

make a few phone calls in the morning

Awesome service!

bought aspirin

used mouthwash

detox foot things

writing

cleaned room and folded clothes

stopped eating only one bite after I knew I was satisfied, and left the rest in the fridge!!!!

stopped my movie halfway through so I could get to bed early

extra writing

read step one in the OA 12 and 12

packed my bag for tomorrow so that I can have a more relaxing morning and not feel rushed

made a to-do list for the day

took a really nice shower

pray

meditate

Commitment

I haven't been writing.  I've gotten a lot better at talking, feeling, processing, and dealing with things in the moment as they come up.  I'm feeling more secure and serene most of the time.  But I'm missing out on a lot of recovery by not writing on a regular basis.  I think my eating would have been cleaner yesterday if I'd started writing right when i got home.  I'm really tired right now.  crap.  I just got a new sponsee.  I'm glad.  I'm excited for the opportunity to help someone, and I know that this will inspire me to be more diligent with my own program.  I've been getting out of my structured routine that i've had for a while.  That's good and bad.  It's really cool that i have so many opportunities opening up to me, and that I'm ready and able to take them.  I'm staying sane and abstinent, but i'm devoting a lot less time to my program as a result.  And because i'm using the tools only "as needed" instead of on a regular daily schedule, the reflex to use them is weakening.  Almost every day this week, I've practiced living in the world or working out in more fun exciting places, which has brought me home a little later.  As a result, I've altered my morning routine, sleeping in and grabbing breakfast on the go.  It makes perfect sense in my head, because i save time by getting ready and eating at the same time, but my morning prayer is rushed and less thoughtful, and my meditation is nonexistant.  For one day, that's not the end of the world, but when that becomes the norm, which it seems to be, we're heading for trouble.  It's hard, because I want to be able to go with the flow and try new things.  Most of my favorite workouts and activities, including meetings keep me out til 10 or 10:30 pm, which makes it difficult to get up at 6 am for training.  OK.  for this week, I'm going to commit to setting my alarm with enough time to do all of my morning meditation, and if I need more sleep, then I can miss my first class.  I'll try that for a week.  I've also been a little lax on my rule about snacking while preparing food or adding extras.  This week, I'm also going to be more diligent with my foodplan.  it's simple and clear cut.  It meets my needs, and I don't need to pad it.  This week, I will abide by it.  I can make more phone calls, and more outreach.  I've been doing well sharing more, oh!  but I can remember to congratulate chip-takers and thank the leader.  I can update my to-do list.  oh!  4th step.  i need to work on that, and maybe i can set a time to work on it with my sponsor.  And the main #1 project for me to work on this week...those are all simple concrete actions, but this is the fuzzier internal thing: listen to my heart-my intuition- my higher power.  I've been talking a lot about my new understanding that I really can have, do, or be anything I want as long as I am willing to connect with what it is that I really really want.  I have been willing to question my desires, to compare compulsion with my higher power's will.  I've been able to see the difference, but I haven't been very willing to listen.  strange.  I know it's a muscle, though, and just seeing it is a big step.  At first it may be hard, but the more effort I put into listening now, the sooner it will get easy.  I want to commit to really listening, and acting accordingly...i keep wanting to say "as much as  I can", and leave room for error, but I truly believe that you can do anything you set your mind to.  Part of me just doesn't want to do it.  If I commit fully, my life will get better faster.  I want to push myself.  challenge myself.  I want to do this.  I can feel the resistance.  It's just like the trick I tried in the gym on thursday.  I knew i wanted it, and that i would feel better as soon as I did it, but I didn't want to.  I kept doing drills to perfect the mechanics before I tried anything.  Preparation is good, but I was limiting myself.  When i became aware that the primary reason I hadn't tried it yet was because I was scared, I took a deep breath and chucked it.  it wasn't pretty, but it released so much tension.  It felt way better.  The only way to grow or get better is to DO what you can't do.  Commit to DOING it.  not trying to do it to the best of your ablility, but really doing it.  Very well.  this is uncomfortable, but I've fought for the right to be uncomfortable, and I'm going to exercise that right.  I want to get better, so this week, I'm going to eat intuitively within the confines of my food plan.  I don't care if there's one bite or 50 left on my plate.  If I'm full or satisfied, I'm done.  I can do this.  and i'm going to.

Slip? Uh oh.

Ya know, you'd think after that last little revelation, things would have picked up, but i had a kinda strange reaction.  I threw up.  It wasn't really intentional.  My stomach was hurting, and i kept burping violently, but i had to get ready to leave to lead a meeting.  I was so uncomfortable going to lead a meeting after the kinda excessive emotional eating I had done earlier that day, but I got up and started trying to move and work some of the air and crampiness out of my stomach.  I was in the shower, and these burps were just exploding out of me.  I kept massaging my stomach to try to help work stuff out.  I twisted, and bent, and leaned over, and opened my mouth, and threw up.  I stood up in a little bit of shock, and debated whether it was OK.  What if I leaned over again?  I threw up a significant amount 2 more times in the next minute.  I didn't force it.  I just leaned over and burped, and allowed my body to get rid of some of the crap that was upsetting my stomach.  I felt better, but I knew there was a lot more that I could get out if I tried.  Suddenly the fear struck me, and I cried.  I finished my shower and dried off.  My stomach still hurt, and I knew it wouldn't be hard to throw up if I actually tried, but I don't do that anymore.  And it didn't feel like it used to.  not at all.  I used to make the decision to throw up halfway through, or even before the binge.  This time, there was no decision.  There wasn't even really a binge.  At no point during my extended snack did I say to myself "well, I already blew it, might as well keep going."  There was a point where I thought i might be full, and I waited a few minutes, but not feeling any discomfort, I chose to eat more.  When I finished eating, I became slightly aware of some minor discomfort from fullness.  This is very different from the old binges where I used to continue eating even after I felt like I was going to explode, and try to stuff more in so that I could throw up.  This time, I recognized minor discomfort, closed up the unfinished package, and put it in the cupboard.  Only later did it churn my stomach into terrible cramping.  the throw up was accidental, and not until 3 hours later after I made phone calls, took a nap, did some writing...my next meal was a little late, because my stomach still hurt, but I'm pretty much back to normal life.  I feel a lot better having written about it. coming clean.  and i'm starting to feel really excited to see the guys at work tomorrow.  I've been stressing about it so much that I forgot how much fun i'm going to have!  I love my job, and being challenged, and i love these guys.  I look up to them soooo much, and they're so good at what they do, and at teaching.  If I can't do something, I'll get to learn.  It's actually really really exciting.

I've been feeling really self conscious about working with some guys I used to know.  I'm going to see them for the first time in a year tomorrow, and I don't know how to interact with them.  In the back of my mind, I know they're going to wonder why I haven't improved, and why in some ways, I'm even rusty at the things I was better at then.  Especially since they were already so much better than me, I've been feeling really scared about having to explain why i'm not better.  Of course, I have some really freakin' good reasons.  really good.  In fact, if any rational person heard half of the reasons, not only would they accept them; they'd probably be shocked at how well I've managed to maintain the skills I still have.  I really haven't lost that much, and in all honesty, I'll probably be back at the same level I was within another month, and then I'll be on the way up again.  but that's all future and guesswork, and therefore beside the point.  What I realized a few minutes ago is that the half explanation I plan on presenting to "the guys" if they question me will probably be fully satisfactory to them as long as I deliver it with confidence and acceptance.  The only person who still seems incapable of accepting me where I am is me.  When I tell my story, I sound like I have something to hide, because I feel like I do.  I sound like I'm using petty excuses for being lazy, because I feel like I am.  I've had major compounded injuries that prevented me from training to the best of my ability.  I've been in eating disorder inpatient treatment where I was allowed only 1-2 hours /day to workout, and I didn't have any of my usual gyms, coaches, or equipment.  Even when I returned home, over each workout hung the threat of relapse into self harm and reinjury.  I've had to learn a whole different way of looking at the world and motivating myself.  These are life lessons that may have slowed my physical progress temporarily, but in the long run does nothing but improve it.  in every way.  But still a part of me says "there was nothing wrong with the top half of your body!  You could have been doing all kinds of crazy upper body workouts- bars, rings, weapons, acrobatics, aerial stuff...just because one entire leg has been incapacitated doesn't mean the rest of your body is off the hook.  you were just looking for an excuse!"  but that's not my voice.  I thought I had squeezed that voice out of my head in most things, but there he is again.  it's ED.

Fighter

Today, someone told me "you never really know a person until you've seen them fight".  I think the basic idea was that people behave civilly and act a certain way so that they appear to be nice good people, but you don't really really know them until you've seen how they react when they've been backed into a corner, and the pressure's on.  It made me wonder...what does my fighting style say about me?  Not that I really fight, but I do spar on occasion, and don't I argue in a similar way?  To be completely honest, I feel inadequate at both.  I feel like my growth has been stunted, and although I have all the tools I need to be exquisite, I'm behind all of my peers.

     When I was a little kid, I had a crazy temper.  I would get sooo mad, like my chest was going to explode, and then I would unleash whatever chaos I was capable of, inflicting pain and punishment on anyone within my reach.  I would be nice as long as i knew I was winning - in control, but if that was threatened, I would be blinded by my fury, and I'd lose all control, just like many people do when they get hit in a fight.  By the time I was 10, I learned how detrimental this was to me and my cause.  Once I lost control, I never got what I wanted, so I began trying different tactics.  

     Arguments with my brother usually took a similar course.  We argued, he refused to understand that I had clearly won; I lost my temper, and attacked him; I got in trouble, and he got the last laugh.  Even after I learned to control my temper, and defeat him with my superior logic and 12 year old comebacks, I got in trouble.  I insulted him too cruely, and he was younger, so it wasn't fair.  He would start an argument, I would respond cooly, and I would get in trouble.  My only defense was to completely ignore him.  There was no acceptable response.  Even clever sarcastic retorts were punished.  Thus, I was conditioned out of my natural defensive instincts.  I now find myself incapable of participating in friendly teasing or trash talk, and when someone throws a kick or punch at me, my instinct is to demonstrate instantly that I have no capacity to attack, am incapable of and unwilling to defend myself, and they are hurting me, thus putting myself in the position of my little brother from younger years, who always got the last laugh.  Wow.  I didn't realize that was why I was doing that.  When I feel like I stand a chance, I stay present, but when the odds seem insurmountable, I stop fighting.  I shut down, and give up.  I don't like that.  I like to think of myself as someone who overcomes everything and works harder than anyone, but it's true.  I will work my butt off to achieve the impossible if I Know I can do it, but once I accept that I can't, I drop everything.  I'm so focused on the destination, that I lose sight of the value of the journey.  I think I give up too easily.  I fight with everything I have as long as i know i stand a chance, but how many times have I cut my losses, and thrown in the towel?  I think there's something so admirable about fighting til the end even when you know you've already lost...like in "300"  but that's not very balanced, is it?  I don't know what's right or wrong, but when i give up and refuse to attack in sparring, that doesn't feel right.  it just feels hopeless.  it further stunts my growth, and when a friend jokingly trash talks, and I ignore them, I'm isolating myself, further ingraining that conditioning.  I have to risk falling on my butt to learn how to attack, and risk looking like a fool so that I can hang with my friends' playful trash talk.  It'll take a long time.  and that's ok.

    

now i got it.  i know what i'm really upset about.  I love hearing how much i've changed since program.  in a way, it's good that i'm learning new ways to love and validate myself besides quantifiable success, but it's not good that so much of my self worth is tied into other people's perception of my progress in recovery.  yes- focusing on recovery is great.  but my attitude right now shows lack of acceptance of myself as who I am.  It say "i'm only ok if i'm better than I used to be, and if that difference is significant enough for you to see it and be impressed."  I asked my brother this afternoon if he could see the difference.  "from what?" he asked.  he had no idea what i was talking about.  it hadn't occurred to him that my whole way of life has been transforming drastically for the past year - that i've uprooted the core of my beliefs about how the world works and how i fit into it.  I swear i'd talked to him about this.  Now, granted, there's no reason that he should be able to see a difference.  I've probably seen him 4 times since i left for college 6 1/2 years ago.  I began my eating disorder about 5 years ago, and right now, he's been here for slightly over 24 hours.  how on earth could i expect him to see a difference?  and then i started behaving ... well ... like a spoiled child, which is probably exactly how he remembers me from when we were really little...before i learned to stuff everything and behave like the perfect child.  So to him, this probably looks like backward progress, or at best, just the same old me.  I hated not having all kinds of enlightened recovery to flaunt, and even though i shouldn't be doing this just for attention and admiration from other people, there's more.  I'm also mad at myself for not being better.  I'm mad at myself for not accepting life on life's terms or for being incapable accepting where I am right now.  I really hated myself a few minutes ago.  I feel a little better now that i've gotten some of this out.  it was really bubbling over.

rage

I am so irrationally angry right now.  I can't stand it.  I was storming around my room screaming silently and trying to clean up because the filth is driving me crazy.  my roommates have piles of crap all over the apartment.  the dogs are everywhere.  my brother reeks of smoke.  my room is a mess.  i can't clean up.  i can't think.  I couldn't cope.  I put on my running shoes.  It's after midnight, and 2 hours ago I was exhausted.  but I had to run.  I HAD TO.   yes this is compulsive.  yes- i'm numbing feelings that are too much to handle.  Yes-it's overtraining because I already worked out for 3 hours this morning and 3 hours this evening, and i don't freakin' care.  I'm so mad i can't stand it.  and i don't know for sure what it's really about.  Here's what happened...

My brother's visiting, and I wanted to do something fun and get out of the apartment, so we got reservations to see a comedy show.  We were running late, and had to get dinner.  I was already an hour late for dinner according to my food plan.  Maybe that's part of why I was craving something kinda iffy.  i kinda wanted chinese food.  we dashed into the grocery store to check out the salad and hot food bar.  We'd grab it to go, shove it in my bag, and sneak it into the club so we could eat during the show.  Is that unusual?  i dunno.  I've never been to a comedy show...or anything really.  but the food there sucked!  it was all crap.  disgusting.  "come on!"  I dragged my brother out, and we ran...yes...ran around the block to panda express.  I used to binge there, and I wouldn't do anything like that now.  we were just getting dinner, but it is kinda ... i dunno... triggering?  a sign that i'm not treating my body with respect and care?  that I'm paying more heed to my cravings than my health and well being?   all of the above, but I was in a bit of a frenzy.  we only had about 8 minutes til the show started.  well we got there with a minute to spare, and they had to check bags at the door.  They wouldn't let us bring the food in.  They require you to order off the menu.  I considered leaving right then - just going straight home, and eating our panda express junk food in front of the tv.  maybe it's because it had been close to 6 hours since my last meal, and I was tired and hungary, but I got into that zone again.  the one where i'm just ... tense, shaky, trembley, nervous, scared, frustrated, confused, trapped... i'm just in a mood where i can't connect with anyone.  i don't want to.  it doesn't matter where i am, who i'm with, or what's going on.  i'm not gonna connect with it or enjoy it.  I HATE when i get like that.  I wanted to punish the guard and the ticket people for doing this to me.  (i know.  it's retarded.)  I wanted to tell them through tear streaked eyes, and sobs that I have an eating disorder, this food is part of my food plan, I NEED to eat it slowly inside during the show, and THEY are responsible for triggering this panic attack, and should feel horrible, and let me do whatever the hell i want...not that that's going to make up for it, because they've already ruined the evening beyond repair.  But I couldn't say, or even believe that, because it's not like I had an organic salad with cage free chicken and no dressing in that bag.  I had freakin' syrup coated, msg ridden fast food that I already felt guilty for buying.  and i didn't want to just leave.  I kinda wish i had, except that then i would have eaten the panda express...now it's sitting in the fridge, and i think it should go to hell for being heinously disgusting, but this is just another frustrating case of " i tried to go out and be fun and social, but i find this shit lame, boring, stupid, and I feel like an outcast because everyone else likes it and gets it, and thinks it's a worthwhile use of time, when i'd rather be at home sleeping."  and my knee hurts!  and i just want to sleep forever, which means i might not even go to a meeting in the morning because i'm sleep deprived because i feel bad taking a nap during the day when my brother's only visiting for a few days, but i'm so tired.  and so angry.  and i had to order this "cali wrap" which sounds healthy, right?  well it wasn't!  it was a freakin burrito with rice and cheese and sour cream and it wasn't even good.  i don't know whether to be mad that it was small, unsatisfying, and as far as a full meal goes, probably counts as restricting, or to be pissed that it was so full of carbs and fat, and disgusting greasiness.  I don't know if i'm hungary or have indigestion from the shit food, or if it's just nerves and pent up emotions churning in my belly.  i just hate things right now.  ugh.  poor brother...confused on the couch in the dark, waiting for me to calm down.