Overshare and other stuff

Forgot the camera again. Pics of hail tomorrow, k? Have set a reminder on my phone. Also, am guest posting over at Damaria's blog, STORYPOT, today. My topic is how to stay professional while working from home. So feel free to have a read.

Feeling slightly green around the gills this morning. We went to our favourite sushi joint last night for their Tuesday night special. The sushi was fab, as usual. Except for this one piece of nigiri. I don't even know what kind of fish it was. It looked kind of like tuna, but it was not. It tasted really fishy and had a revolting aftertaste. TSC and I both had a piece and nearly hurled. We quickly washed it down with our drinks and one of the yummier pieces of sushi. But you know when you've eaten something that makes you feel sick to your stomach and there's just no feeling better until it's out of there?

I felt so nauseous, even long after we arrived home. Eventually I decided better out than in and up it came. The thing is, I didn't even have to stick my finger down my throat or anything. I had a lot of practise throwing up during my eating disorder days and this seems to be a skill I have retained. Charming, hey?

My stomach felt instantly better, but my mind was turning. I instantly began lecturing myself in my head, telling myself that just because it's so easy doesn't mean that it's a good idea and that those were awful years that I don't want to revisit.

And it's true. Those destructive habits were hellishly hard to break and took years of therapy, prayer (thanks, Mom) and all sorts of treatment, but they're gone now and I don't miss them.

I think though that there will always be a part of me that looks for the easy way to look how I'd like to. Jenty recently wrote a post about a new slimming drug on the market and it made me realise that this problem affects so many women.

There's such a drive to be thinner, have no cellulite and to never look old that women will try almost anything to get there - no matter the consequences. It's tragic.

Yes, it's great to try to be healthy. If that means losing weight through healthy eating and targeted exercise, awesome. But trust me - it's not worth compromising your health to be slimmer. Bulimia left me some scars, and I got off lucky. It could have been far worse. Anorexia with purging got me to my goal weight. But guess what? It didn't make me feel any better. And it still wasn't enough. Do you know that I was proud when someone pointed out to me that my spine was starting to stick out like a skeleton? That is not healthy. In any way.

Wow... this post got way more deep and ouchy than I was expecting it too. Sorry about that.

What I'm really trying to say is that we have to fight for balance. I don't know if we'll ever get there. I know despite my recovery, there are still days when I struggle. And I'm still not 100% happy with my body. But then, I don't know many people who are in that lucky place. I can say that it's a helluva lot better in this middleground than out there on the edge. So I plan to stay here.

Anyone going to come and camp with me?

Follow up post

Thanks for everyone's support and comments on yesterday's post. I actually considered taking it off my blog because it's quite emo and a little embarrassing. But I figured it's good for me to keep a record of the stuff that goes on in my head. For some reason it helps me to make sense of things.

Strangely, although I have no problem blogging when I'm angry or really excited, I struggle to blog when I'm depressed. It's only once I've got through the worst of it that I can share the stuff that's been going on.

In other words... I reckon I'm fine now. It's been a crap period, but I think I'm heading upwards again. My mother thinks I'm manic depressive, so if she's right, I'm due for a happy spree round about now ;-)

Depression unfortunately runs in my family, and although I've been off the meds for a few years, I'll probably always battle with it. I tell myself it's ok because my extreme emotions seem to mean that I am capable of feeling things very deeply. This can actually be a good thing (and a bad thing) because just as darkness will strike me hard, so too the small joys of life are highlighted and enjoyed to the fullest degree possible.

For those who have never experienced chemical or clinical depression, please understand that it's not something that you can just "snap out of". And taking a walk, listening to happy music or being with friends doesn't fix it. I wish for everyone's sake that it was that easy.

Unfortunately, most people tend to withdraw when depression hits. When you need family, friends and support most, you don't actually feel up to it. If there's someone in your life battling with this, please be patient. And please keep trying. It does matter. Even if the person can't show you that.

I know there's some of you who think I'm being a drama queen and that I don't know how easy my life is and how blessed I am. If that's what you think, ok. I have no beef with you.

But I do know that I am incredibly fortunate to be well-off with a husband, family and friends who are the best a person could ever wish for. And my life could be infinitely harder - I understand that. It's hard to explain how the feelings conflict within me. The best way I can put it is that the psycho twin doesn't get these things. The sane one does.

So basically, thanks for your love and support. I think blogging has been a breakthrough therapy tool for me - when I can't bring myself to talk about these things with TSC or my family, I write about it here, and getting it all outside of my head helps the sane twin to put things in perspective and take the reins again.

Weird space

First of all, thanks to everyone for the well wishes yesterday. And I honestly wasn't that upset about the follower. It just makes me wonder: "Did I write something taht offended him / her? Does he / she find that I'm no longer entertaining..." And so on.

Good news is... the follower is back. *gleeful grin*

Secondly, overshare warning... this is one of those self-involved navel-gazing posts that would probably be more appropriate in a private diary. I have warned you.

So... onwards...

I'm in a strange space with myself at the moment. You may be thinking that any space I'm in will be weird simply by association, but it's more than that. See (here comes the overshare), for those of you who don't know, I've suffered from various eating disorders over different periods in my life. And although I have been fine for the past three and a half years, I don't think I'll ever really "get it out of my system".

What I mean is... Yes, I don't make myself throw up anymore. Or abuse diet pills / laxatives anymore. Or starve myself or exercise compulsively or weigh myself a million times a day (in fact, I don't even own a scale). I no longer compulsively count calories, pretend to eat food and then hide it or even forbid poor TSC from eating certain food groups along with me. I don't do any of those insane things I used to do. But... I do go through periods of "darkness" when I feel tempted to step out of my sanity and do one or more of those things again.

I never do.

I KNOW that the best way forward is to eat healthily and exercise enough. I understand that eating small meals throughout the day and allowing myself treats without going overboard or being a food Nazi keeps my metabolism up and stops me from craving. I know that exercising regularly not only stops me from freaking out but also gives me a great endorphin boost.

I know these things. That knowledge doesn't, however, stop me from having stretches of absolutely hating my body (specific bits more than others) and getting completely distraught about the fact that I can't change it quickly enough to make me feel better. And I'm not talking about a blue mood or two... these are spells of depression that last weeks and sometimes months and remind me of really dark times when I was fighting against hospital admittance and contemplating suicide and all that crap.

I once explained it to my shrink (poor woman) as having twin personalities that battle it out in my head. The one twin is fairly normal. She has moments of insecurity like most women and doesn't like her squishy tummy very much. But she believes that she's doing her best and that should be good enough. She lives moderately, understands that certain times of the month will be rough and gives herself a little leeway.

The other twin is completely loopy. It's when she's won the argument that the insane complusive behaviour starts. She is never satisfied with herself and gets disproportionately upset about things. She overanalyses compliments and turns them into insults and she rages with anger at the drop of a hat. She believes that everyone secretly can't stand her and is convinced that action - severe action - must be taken against her useless self as punishment or something. A complete control freak, she is irrational and unreasonable and she cannot live in a middleground of any kind.

Hmmm... just reread all of that. I'll forgive you if you do stop following me - I don't make very much sense sometimes.

I've been in one of those yuck phases for the past few weeks. Not too extreme, thankfully, but still not-so-nice for TSC to have to deal with. I really wish I knew what triggers these things, but I just don't. They happen seemingly without my involvement - pyscho twin takes over and I'm just along for the (unpleasant) ride. My brain seems to turn into an organ of pure, extreme emotion and lose any ability to process logic.

For instance, I discovered that one of my favourite girl bloggers is pregnant a few weeks back. She wasn't planning it and she and I had actually discussed how terrifying the thought of pregnancy is. Reaction? Psycho twin latched onto this new idea to explain her unhappiness with her body - she must be pregnant. Her body had decided to wage war on her and do something really extreme.

Now please understand that TSC and I sorted out our contraception ages ago and have been very, very careful ever since. Neither of us feel ready for children yet. But almost every month, psycho twin has a panicked moment when she supposes she might be preggers. Until the curse arrives and then sane twin steps in.

This month was infinitely worse. Sane twin should've done the smart thing and bought shares in the home pregnancy test company before psycho got going. But she didn't. And psycho went into all-out-compulsive mode, stressing and fretting and measuring and imagining. She's a bit stupid, this twin, because she doesn't talk to anyone about her panic. She just carries on, dragging the weight of her crazy illusions with her in a constant blind stress-fest.

Thankfully, her period arrived at long last. Relieved as she was, this meant that she needed to find another reason to explain why her body won't behave the way she wants it to. And her thoughts turned once again to those severe methods that might beat it into submission.

Sane twin continues to resist these compulsions towards self-abuse. Fortunately her strength is enough to hold her twin back from taking action. Even if she can't make her stop thinking about it. That's something, isn't it?