I Guess It Is Time To Think

My therapist actually made me think last week. I had to figure out why I do or do not have a problem. And I have come to the conclusion that I do. A normal person who likes dieting doesn't freak out over carbs or stare at their rib cage for an hour. They don't hate themselves so much they'd starve before they gained weight. Those thought processes just aren't normal. So I guess I have an eating disorder. Or in the words of my therapist "I'm a people pleasing, perfectionist with an eating disorder".

What made you realize you had a problem?

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Do I Really Have an Eating Disorder?

I know, stupid question, right? I'm not so sure. A big part of me honestly doesn't think I have a problem. Yes, I go to therapy and group and have been to treatment. But I'm still not sure. The first time I admitted it was by force in a treatment facility. I didn't mean it. And sometimes when I say it now, it still feels weird and wrong. Like I'm a phony. I don't have a problem. I just like to be thin and eat in a specific way. Is that a crime? I know this isn't very recovery oriented but I honestly spend a lot of time contemplating if I'm recovering from something. Or am I just going through motions and pretending? I'm not even sure I have a disorder.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Being Healthy

Being healthy has so many connotations. Anything from eating no carbs to being a vegan to eating everything in moderation. For me it has a negative connotation. It tells me that I'm doing something so incredibly wrong. I don't want to be healthy, I want to be thin and starving. Which is why I get super confused when healthy comes up. Am i healthy for eating when told to or healthy when eating when my body says so? I guess it doesn't really matter, because health is what should matter. But health and being "healthy" are too different things. When someone asks me if eating my whole meal plan is "healthy" we usually agree that it isn't. But will it probably help my health? Yes. That's where I get mixed up. Should health or being "healthy be more important? What do you think?

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Sizes and Shapes

No, this isn't a preschool lesson. But sizes and shapes play a huge role in my everyday life and probably yours too. I body check a lot and so the size and shape of my body means a lot and if it changes at all, I get really upset. Clothing sizes are tricky because they differ so much. So, I don't put too much emphasis on them. But everyday the size of my body influences how I feel and how I go about my life. That's almost kind of sad. To think that my life is run my sizes and shapes. Simple concepts that were once so innocent. So where did they go wrong? They went wrong when people stopped just applying them to the outside world but imposing their rules onto the human body. We literally spend our lives trying to fit into shapes. The problem being that you can't fit a square into a circle. There is only so much you can do.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Extreme Hunger

When you first start refeeding, you end up feeling hungry ALL the time. This sensation is usually when I relapse because I get scared. However, this time I get going. But I didn't say yes to the hunger, I ignored it. So, while I did something healthy, I also counteracted it. I feel like this experience goes for other parts of my life as well. For instance, once I find that makes me happy, I get scared and don't know what to do but will try to keep it. However, I won't invest wholeheartedly in case it goes away and hurts me. Which still leaves me extremely hungry for what I need. Either emotionally or physically.
Have you ever experienced this?

Stay Strong
xo Aria

I Just Don't Fit In

Have you ever been somewhere and just felt out if place? Usually it's a party or a new environment. But what if that place is your very own house? I can honestly say that the place I feel least at home is at home. My family life isn't calm to say the least and the conflict affects me. But more so its just a difference in values and ideals. The things that mean the world to me, don't make sense to my family. And to be honest, I don't care much for most of their interests. The things that excite me are usually shot down and end with the reminder to never get your hopes up: I just don't fit in. When I tried to point this out to my mom, she decided that I was wrong and the reason I felt this way was for lack of trying. No amount of explanation would suffice. It's nights like this when I wonder why she is so against me being places where I finally feel at home. At least I can be home for a few days a week. Some people never get to be.

Where is your true home?

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Finding an Identity

For a long time I have been my eating disorder. But in all honesty I'm not. I have an eating disorder. But I'm not an eating disorder. I spent a good part of this weekend thinking about my future. Right now a large part of my time is devoted to being involved in Jewish life. Judaism within itself is an identity. There is a strong sense of community and being a part of that within the Jewish community. And my beliefs around that concept are very strong. I would be lying if I said my future wouldn't involve Jewish education in some way.

Obviously having that identity takes away part of the identity of the eating disorder. On top of that I do a lot of after school activities. Giving me an actual identity and purpose. And those feel better than being just an anorexic.

It's weird actually. Now when people call me an anorexic, I actually get offended. I have an eating disorder, I'm not one.

I will find my identity and I challenge you to find yours.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Beauty is the Small Things

A child getting his cookie
An old couple
Newlyweds
Children sleeping
A sunny day
Flowers blooming
Snow falling
Wearing pajamas all day
Having a best friend who stays unconditionally
Knowing who you are

This is just a small list of things are truly beautiful. But we never take the time to appreciate them. Or we do but counteract it with something bad. I challenge you to make a list of 100 things you find pleasure in. It can be anything from a nap to running a marathon.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

The Thinking Process

When people ask me why I have such a hard time with school, I usually respond with "I have all the work of the average high schooler and half the mental capacity". This weekend when I said that to somebody I got a new response.

This person said "Never confuse physical ability with mental capacity".

At first I didn't understand what he meant so he continued. He was saying that my physical ability to concentrate and perform well under pressure was hindered by my eating disorder but my mental capacity was incredible.

This got me thinking. He made a point to describe instances in which I showed incredible intellect and maturity. And I finally realized what people mean by having an eating disorder changes you.

Even through recovery I will not regain the person I lost, but gain a new one entirely. I will forever be the person who sees goodness in places normal people don't. There will forever be beauty in most things just because I'm alive and fought for it.

I have the mental capacity to do whatever I want. My physical capability is what stops me. And I can change that. But I did realize that I really sell myself short.

I should really work on that.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Two Conflicting Ideas

This week, I met with a new dietitian for the first time. Now, manipulative old me saw great potential in this. But oddly I didn't need to manipulate her. She just did what I wanted. Which of course was a meal plan alteration. Today, I met with my therapist and upon hearing about the change, she wasn't happy at all. 

These two conflicting ideas puzzle me. Who is right? 

The dietitian does know more about food than a therapist. But my therapist knows me better.

So, I guess the question is, who's advice do I follow? I trust my therapist. It took a long time, but I do. She normally looks out for me. But she does always say that she doesn't know the science behind food. Which is why the dietitian would make more sense to listen to on a food issue. The problem being that even though having this changed makes me, or maybe my ED, really happy, I always feel weird about it. There was obviously a reason that my normal dietitian refused to change it through all my begging. So, why now? 

This is why conflicting statements can mess with your head. I honestly do not know who is right!! I am going to follow the new plan until something comes of it. I just wish they would all agree.

Stay Strong

xo Aria

Why Feelings Suck

Yes, I know, when going through recovery it is important to learn to deal with feelings. But they are AWFUL. I hate feelings. They usually end with me feeling bad about myself and for others. Feelings make us vulnerable and show others that we feel differently from them. I was taught long ago that you don't show emotions, you suck it up. I will give two examples before moving on.

1. When I was ten years old, one of my aunts gave me a present for my birthday. I didn't exactly love it but I did say thank you and keep it. But apparently that wasn't the response she wanted. Every year since then I haven't been given a present. She told me it was because if I was ungrateful then I don't deserve her presents. But I did deserve to watch my cousin open her presents when we all got together. I apologized profusely but it didn't matter, I showed the wrong emotion and was subsequently punished.

2. My grandmother lives on the top floor of an apartment building, I am approximately nine years old. Her balcony has a railing with spaces in-between each bar. My knee got caught in-between two of them. Being my nine year old self, I started crying. But nobody came to my rescue. I got it out myself and then got yelled at for making a scene and that I could have broken her railing. So, I put on a happy face and acted like I never got hurt.

I don't appreciate my own feelings. They have brought me nothing by being shown. It is much easier for me to put on the face that makes sense in the moment. What if how I feel doesn't match their expectations? Then I did something wrong and they are upset. It isn't worth it.

How did you learn that feelings aren't all bad?

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Permission To Eat

This is gonna be a long post so bare with me!

Everybody with an eating disorder has heard the sentence, "Just eat". To be quite honest, my usual response to this is, "oh my gosh that's exactly what I needed to hear. I can't believe I never thought of that". Knowing to eat is not the problem. I know that eating is what human beings need to do. But a part of me, says not to. Eating actually feels wrong. Like I am disobeying myself, breaking a rule. Anybody who has worked with me on a treatment level, has been asked from me if it is really okay for me to eat. I won't eat unless they say it's okay. I feel like I am doing something so awful and wrong that it creates immeasurable guilt. Just eating isn't allowed in my head. Everything has to be justified. EVERYTHING. I feel like a little kid who just wants to stay out of trouble. Not get put in time-out. Except the time-out is in my head and it is so much worse. Disobeying the thoughts puts me in a tizzy. I search forever for a means of justification. It could anything. Like I can eat this meal because my breakfast was only a Luna bar. Justifying is like my way of explaining why I misbehaved.

I am often asked how I can ignore hunger. Well, if you were going to get in trouble for something, would you give into it? I don't have permission to eat. I don't feel like it is okay to that. I legitimately have to ask before even following my meal plan. I need to know that I have been granted the right to eat that day. But the rule is that I cannot give myself permission because I cannot be trusted. I could accidentally eat too much.

SO the question becomes, when do I get unlimited permission to eat? A few answers come to my mind. Usually when I do something I am not supposed to enough times, I get permission. That's why I am allowed to dye my hair. Another possibility is that I never get that right. Like I am not allowed to get more ear piercings. Lastly, I guess eventually I could earn the right. Just like how when you turn 21 you can drink. But I am not sure how eating works. Which of those is it like? Or is it like none of those?

My youth director actually made me a "License to Eat" so that I have permission all the time, sort of like a driver's license. But is unlimited permission better than none?

Do any of you struggle with giving yourself permission to eat?

Stay Strong

xo Aria

Secrets

"Never trust a pretty girl with an ugly secret"

That right there describes my life. I have more secrets than anyone knows. But they don't need to. Being mysterious is nice. It means I find out everything about other people without showing myself. The reason I used a quote from pretty little liars is because quite often I feel like Alison from it. She's the girl that everyone either loves or loves to hate. The girl that has enemies and best friends. And sometimes they're the same person. But also a person with dark secrets plaguing her. She knows how to take control of a room and how to sit in a corner. I am that girl. The girl who has a group of close friends but also knows all their deepest secrets. While I keep mine. I can take over a situation or sit back and watch. Secrets are those things that give power. They allow us to keep people or run. It's like knowing when to play your cards. Secrets work for manipulating or helping. Which is why I keep mine to myself. Those that think they know me, don't. They never have, never will. The mystery is what makes me, me.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Blanket Forts and Starry Nights

It's 6:30 AM and I am under a blanket. Another sleepless night under my eyes. I don't remember most of the night. Somewhere I got lost. All I know is that I've been crying and I didn't close my eyes. I remember contemplating ending it all. And I remember screaming through the tears how much I hate life. This blanket fort isn't full of children laughing or a group of girls laughing. My blanket fort was made just to make me invisible. Invisible to the outside world. Invisible in my head. I didn't want to die, just to take a break. From school, from stress, from life. But as I was reminded today I can't. I'm not allowed to just get my GED. The weeks where I'm too sick for school are the easiest weeks for recovery. But nobody understands. They don't get that I just want to disappear for a little while. And not have to worry. Starry nights are wonderful but I don't like being up to view it change to sunlight. One day my blanket forts will be under a starry sky. And I will enjoy it. For now I just want somebody to let me do what I need to in order to avoid these forts.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Becoming a Princess

The stage is a magical place. Stories come alive and characters come to life. Anything can happen. Theatre is my greatest passion in life. Right now I am preparing to be Belle in Beauty and the Beast. This show has taught me more than most others. Of course I made new friends and learnt song and dances. But for this particular production a sentence kept being repeated, "you must become and believe you are a princess". This confused me. For as many as shows as or been in, I've never had a director who wanted us to truly believe we are our characters. Almost to the point of method acting. I have to truly believe I am a princess, that I am secure in myself and that I know I can do what I set my mind to. This was a challenging idea for me. I'm not a princess. Princesses are pretty and kind and well perfect. I don't see myself as any of those things. But I had to believe it. My motto for this has been " I am a princess". I can't say it has helped recovery much but I can say it got me in
a different mindset for what I princess is. We can all be princesses, it's just a matter of who knows it. If I walked around all the time the way I do in theatre, things would
be so different. I still don't think I'm close to being a princess but for those few hours on stage, I am. And gosh that's an incredible feeling.

Have you ever had a place that was a complete escape?

Stay Strong
xo Aria

The Scariest Thing of All

I'm assuming that most of you reading this are waiting for me to say that the scariest thing of all is food or recovery. You would be right...and wrong. On a day to day basis those are what scare me the most. But overall, not helping people and having them hate me for it, scares me to the core. My therapist often uses the analogy of giving away my recovery. Every time I help somebody over and over and allow it to take prevalence, I am giving them my recovery. Which on most days is shaky. I spend most of my day time hours and night time helping people. Texting them to get through a meal, calling them to get them to stop purging. By the end of the day I am exhausted and drained. With nobody to turn to. Something that is often pointed out to me is the need to establish boundaries in the beginning stages of recovery. I am still in those after all. Last time during treatment I tried my best to set some up, but they fell quickly when I noticed my friends falling apart. I blame myself for that, even though I was told that those people should have respected the lines better. Nevertheless the boundaries are long gone. At this point I am very close to a third treatment stay, and deep down I know that helping others 24/7 is not what I should be doing. That is not to say that I won't help you anymore, but that I simply cannot be the one to hold you up. My feet are barely sturdy enough for myself. There are tears streaming my face as I write this and I can only hope you all don't hate me for stepping back some to focus on myself. If you do, I understand. If not, then thank you. This is actually the hardest thing I have ever had to write. I can honestly say that I feel awful knowing that those I help, need it. But I simply can't. The breakdowns are becoming too frequent, and I need to figure things out. I'm sorry. I will keep blogging however. I am not going away. Just stepping back. Please understand.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Measuring Time

" 525,600 minutes. How do you measure, measure a year"

That line from Rent greatly speaks to me. The entire song "seasons of love", discusses how you can accurately measure your life. People with eating disorders do the same with different numbers. The song mentions sunsets and cups of coffee. EDs just don't let those things take prevalence. We measure by pounds lost, calories eaten, hours of exercise. That's how we measure our years. The 525,000 minutes feel like twice that. They are torture. They aren't counted by how much time we spend with frieda, the amount of bridges built. No we do it by the amount of self hatred. Which is no better than not counting at all. Recovery is relearning how to count. How to count and figure it out later. Not to live with the numbers but live for them. There is a way to count and live if you count the right things.

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Dear Life

Dear  Life,

Part of you seems to elude me. I don’t understand your purpose. Sometimes I’m not sure if I truly exist, never mind am living. I walk around, half alive/ half dead hoping that I can see the lives of other people grow brighter. But my own life is dim. I live off of numbers and statistics. How many calories are in a pound, how much weight I still need to lose. No matter the number I reach, I can’t seem to grasp you as others have. Sometimes I doubt your existence. That is until I see it. I see it in the eyes of children jumping rope and in the eyes of couples falling in love. I know you exist somewhere. I wonder endlessly why I don’t feel you. I am a zombie in the world of the living. Not quite sure where I belong. Not dead, yet certainly not as alive as most. Is there a secret to finding you? Some sort of key? I wish I knew where to look. Something to warm my dying heart.  Something that would should me life beyond this grave.  I want to see the world through the eyes of living. But you are so far out of reach. Far out where I dare not go out of fear. I don’t know what you bring. What heartache and turmoil would follow. I’ve heard the living praise you and the dead scorn you. Where am I on that scale? Where do I fit in? I don’t feel as broken as I once was, but nobody believes me to be fixed. So, you still don’t want me in your group of happiness. I am aware that you elude many on this planet and possibly others far beyond, but why? Not why me. But why us? Why are some of us meant to live in the crossroad of life and death? How do we know which path to take? There are no signs or guides, almost like a test. Maybe that’s what you are. A test to see if we choose to pretend we are a part of your elite group of happy people, or to see if we follow our predecessors and turn from you. You confuse me greatly. I suppose that is common though. I just wish I could spend a day and see why the living enjoy it. Hopefully, never knowing the deaths that hate you. I’d much rather die knowing fighting for you was worth it. But. I. Don’t. Know. You.

Stay Strong

xo Aria