Numbers and Self-Worth

My recent thoughts on weight have inspired further reflection. When I consider the power that numbers have over us, it just seems insane. How many years did I step on the scale — several times a day — to monitor my weight? Those numbers on the scale determined my self-worth! I used to count calories as well. Those weird numbers determined if food was good or not, and if I was good or not. There are other numbers as well: salary, bank account, value of the house, price of the car, that apparently have something to say about our own value.

There's a great song in German which translates to: Why am I not satisfied? That’s what it’s about. We try to compensate or build up our low self-worth with symbolic numbers. And what happens is, we invest these numbers with an immense power over us, and struggle each day in the hope of achieving certain ideals. Generally, these numbers are unattainable, because as soon as we reach them, we want more (or less, depending on the situation) — to the point of becoming addicted.

Clothing sizes are also numbers. Think about it. What are they for? Their purpose is to help us find clothes that fit us, rather than having to try everything on that’s hanging on the rack. Whether I am a 7, 9, 11, 12 or 14 doesn’t matter. It does not determine my value as a human being. It simply helps me find something to wear that will fit me. During the time when I began to lose weight, I greedily eyed the “petite” sizes, hoping to eventually fit into them. Now I know better — 5′ 7″ is not petite!

When I was really skinny, I can remember not going clothes shopping. I was afraid, because I didn’t know what size I was, and I didn’t want anyone to find out. (Not that I had much spare money to spend on clothes, since most of it went towards bingeing!) Yet I am just as guilty of proudly announcing my size to a woman who was a few sizes larger. As if that made me better or something, it gave me sick satisfaction! Now I accept myself as I am, and the competitive comparison is no longer necessary. On the contrary, I enjoy the company and presence of other women, and treasure each one’s unique appearance, without value judgment.

I don’t like giving other people control over me, and the thought of numbers having control over me is even less desirable. I grew up reacting, discerning my worth through the reflection perceived in other people’s eyes. My self-esteem was a situative variable that had nothing to do with me. That was a poor existence, and no numbers either way could help it. I always assumed the worst. Yet this very desire to please made me willing to undertake immense efforts to try and change myself to fit some predetermined image, size or number which had nothing to do with me.

My tendency towards faith in conspiracy theory supports the notion that this supposed importance of numbers regarding weight and size is instilled in women to keep them under control. Can you imagine the blast of energy, creativity and power that would be unleashed if women stopped expending so much energy and time on these numbers? Wow!

There is still a lot of anger simmering inside of me. Anger at myself for buying into this crock and being so deep into self-destruction for so long, and anger at my environment for promoting these plastic, superficial values. I royally screwed up a lot of things in my life because of it. I damaged my body, I betrayed myself, I barely remember my youth and young adulthood. If I hadn’t written so much in my journal, the gaps in memory would be much worse. True, I trust in the universe, and I am doing a damn good job at making the most of what is left, but sometimes it makes me want to scream. Still, let’s not forget the big picture. Everything happens for a reason and in the end it will all make sense. Remember, this is life now and we can reclaim it and enjoy it. And I want to have some fun!

Weight

I was just about ready to have some breakfast, but was writing to someone about weight and (I think) I’d like to share on that. The underlying problems of the bulimic/anorexic are not about weight. I remember wanting to be skinny and weightless, because that was childlike, and I missed being a child. Life seemed so much easier then — looking back, at least. And yet, weight is a major issue, besides learning to love, trust, forgive, mourn, …. and live. Feel free to insert your own issues. Those were my major ones.

I hadn’t really thought about it for a long time, but like I said, I just did. I generally avoid numbers and weights, knowing that we are all so competitive, but I will dare to give some hard numbers. Before I do that, though, I will confess that I am still slim and still concerned about my appearance. In fact, I am practically vain, and don’t think I could stand to be overweight. Recovery doesn’t mean you don’t care about your appearance. You just care differently. For me, it just means accepting my normal weight — which I didn’t get to pick as ideal. My body settled at that all by itself.

So, now to the numbers. I won’t actually give the weight, just comparisons. During my last major relapse-trying-to-recover phase, I weighed around 15 pounds more than at my worst skin-and-bones phase. At that time, I considered it to be the ideal weight, and hoped to recover and keep that weight. It wasn’t enough and I was still starving, so the inevitable binges kept happening. I also couldn’t sleep (ketosis?). Now, get a load of this, I weigh nearly 20 pounds more than that ideal weight. And I am still skinny!!! (But not in an unhealthy way.) These numbers simply knock me over!

I don’t want to brag about weighing so much more than I once did, but I want to state it as a fact of necessity. How many times I actually wished I could magically weigh this much again, because I just couldn’t bear the reality of having to gain the weight back. It was awful. Gaining weight is about giving up control, and I needed to have things under control. Yet, back then when I looked in the mirror, I would gain ten pounds just by looking. At first glance, I would think, “Oh, I’m slim.” Then I’d look closer, and “realize” that I was horribly fat. I never left out an opportunity to look in a mirror, or at my reflection in a store window. I kept hoping to see how I “really” looked, but I wasn’t able to find myself. Not until I looked within and let myself come out.

I think I’d been concerned about looking good, because I felt that what was inside of me was so ugly and deformed, that no one could possibly stand it. So I tried to make up for it by being thin. I know, that’s a strange logic, but it’s how I thought.

It wasn’t until I absolutely surrendered and decided to eat, to do what it takes, and to give up control, that I was able to gain the weight back. Whatever my body settled on, I would accept. I guess the switch was that I really wanted to live, so my body became the vehicle to enable that rather than being my definition. I like my body now. I look in the mirror and I like what I see. I like how I feel, too. It’s all part of me, and feels just right. And now I am finally going to go have my breakfast!

Oh, one more thing. This past summer I had the feeling of going back 30 years and picking up where I left off in my emotional development. (Yes, there are still some issues to be dealt with!) I felt a strong urge to buy the two Supertramp CDs that I had listened to as records back then (Even in the Quietest Moments and Crime of the Century). Many songs I still know by heart. They got me through some of my darkest hours. You might want to check them out.

Daily stuff or: Why am I not satisfied?

After my comments yesterday about the windows, what did I hear on the radio this morning? The woman who does the early show actually had the nerve to announce for everyone to hear that today is a good day to wash windows! So it looks like that’s what I’ll be doing. Writing about housework yesterday inspired me with the motivation to take on some larger tasks today, above and beyond the daily maintenance stuff. My secret is to put on good, loud, energizing music. Generally I listen to “Die Toten Hosen” - a German punk band. One time I was cleaning the bathroom, listening to “Warum werde ich nicht satt?” (”why am I never satisfied?”) and I had to laugh. I’m definitely on this planet with a higher calling than scrubbing toilets, but that is part of life!

If this all seems too non-bulimic in content, by the way, don’t be fooled. Part of recovery is also learning to be silly, laugh, and generally take the serious business of life (and ourselves) a tad less seriously. A playful, open, creative approach can go a long way. In a sense, it’s that childlike attitude that we adults tend to mourn losing, as we rediscover it in our own children and marvel at their ability to live in the now.

Since there is no specific topic today and I’m just finishing my coffee before starting those windows, I want to mention how happy I am that some bulimics have contacted me. It is not only rewarding to hear that my site has been a “blessing” to them (as one woman wrote), but also encourages me that I am on the right path. Originally, my book was supposed to be the way to reach people with my story. It still is. But that was before I’d heard of blogging. I consider blogging a wonderful way to reach out — both to give support and to seek it. It’s like one big anonymous meeting at my fingertips, available any time of day — at everyone’s convenience. Perfect! I’ve often complained about being born into this age of hi-tech, but this invention is definitely positive!

I think it’s wonderful that a few people have gathered their courage together and taken the step to contact me, simply because in that process they were able to let go of some denial, admit they have a problem and realize that they want to do something about it. That is a process of its own, and can take a while. I am not a therapist, but have collected a wealth of experience and have a lot to share. If it is an option, I strongly recommend therapy — either individual or group. Both possibilites I have used and both were helpful. In the meantime, feel free to continue writing, asking questions or just commenting.

Getting a handle on what I can handle

I was going to call this the Monday morning ramble, but I just realized it’s Wednesday. No, I’m not totally withdrawn or out of touch with the world, I’m just tired and it’s that Monday morning atmosphere. I’ve been wondering lately what it is that made me go along with so many things. Looking back, I think I was so thrilled about recovering that I let other things slide. It was ingrained in my head that as long as I wasn’t bingeing and/or puking everything else was fine, and I lost touch. It really is a tightrope act — to balance between being justifiably relieved and thrilled to recover, but then humble enough to acknowledge that there is definitely more to life than the survival mode.

A recognizable pattern is emerging. There is a tendency to make a change, be elated, sail along with this for a while, meanwhile slipping backwards so slowly that it only becomes apparent when this reverse process is rather advanced. Relationships are a good example. We have a really good 4-hour talk and everything comes out. Afterwards, I am exhausted, relieved and optimistic. For a few weeks the communication continues, but at the same time it gradually subsides. Soon enough, the walls are back up, the wordlessness has resumed, and it makes me wonder if anything actually happened. I need to be aware every day of what I am doing.

There is a tendency to get comfortable and rest on one’s laurels, but beware! Resting too long can jeopardize further development. On the other hand, it takes what it takes. If I don’t get it right the first time - or the ninth time - I’ll just keep getting the chance. Every day it is possible to start over, start new. I just bear in mind that things also get more complicated with every new chance, which brings me to the conclusion that I want to deal with as much as possible now. Recently I met with my former therapist. He said, “You’re not the fastest, but you’re steady in your development.” Part of that has to do with the amount of hidden excess baggage that I still carry and only now become aware of. With this new revelation, I think I’d like to accelerate just a tiny bit.

Once it was a comfort to trust that god/higher power only gives us what we can handle. That is comforting, but it contains a challenge as well. When I recognize that there is something to do, that is the time to act on it. Oh, but it’s not easy to know what to do! And then there’s also a balance to maintain between personal issues and concern for those around us. What a world! What a life!

Meanwhile I read the morning paper. Catastrophes abound. Millions of people are starving, refugees, homeless because of flooding. Oil is at an all-time high. Prices for everything are rising. Yet another case of child sexual abuse has been reported. From the obituary page I see that I’ll be attending a funeral tomorrow. Coma drinking among teenagers is on the rise. And somebody found a bag with 16,000 Euros in it and brought it to the police. The delighted rightful owner rewarded generously. My horoscope says I should go for a walk. My thoughts wander and eventually come upon Gilda Radner’s famous words: “It’s always something!”

Ideally I want to remain cheerful and optimistic, open and ready to face each new (or old) challenge as a gift — something to learn from. I want to be patient, not put excessive pressure on myself, yet not procrastinate. I guess that’s where higher power comes in. I think I’ll ask h.p. once again to help me be honest and realistic, and not beat on myself just because I don’t get everything right the first time around.

Spring wake-up efforts

After a workout at the gym today, I felt much better. I need to work out regularly. It helps me stay in shape, keeps me strong and in a better mood, prevents osteoporosis and weight gain. (Since passing 40, I’ve noticed a tendency to gain weight more easily if I don’t get enough exercise.) Sounds like a good deal to me! Okay, I’m motivated! (It’s kind of hard, because I’ve just never been the type that wants to do something all the time, though it does me good. But once I’m there, I enjoy it!) It just occurred to me that this recent slide into darkness coincided with my reduction in activity. I’m sure it’s connected. So if you’re feeling down, when’s the last time you moved that body?

But before I went to the gym, I picked two goddess cards – two because two made themselves noticeable. That does happen on occasion. (The deck is by Doreen Virtue, in case anyone is curious.) Who did I pick? First Sarasvati, then Oonagh beckoned. They were both appropriate. (The descriptions are my rough translation from German.)

Sarasvati is a Hindu goddess of the fine arts. Her message is: “You are a boundless being. If you perceive limits – be they temporal, financial or otherwise – that is only your perception, because you are focussed on the material world. You can remove these boundaries by changing your focus. Music is of major importance for the expression of non-materialistic ideals and energy. It helps us move beyond the limits of thinking and existence. Surround yourself with music and let it stimulate new ideas and awaken your creativity. Flow with the music and allow yourself to experiment. Enjoy your boundlessness.” Her advice is to sing, dance, be creative, and/or make music.

Oonagh is a Celtic goddess of lightness/ease. Her message is: “To really be involved in a relationship/project is a long-term commitment, which one should not enter upon lightly. It is so important to me what happens to my planet and loved ones that I will stick by them no matter what. That is not always easy, but it is the only way I can be sure that everything will be resolved and heal. I listen to my heart. I show my loved ones how much they mean to me. I do something to keep matters moving. Don’t worry about other people’s opinions – you profit by pursuing your main goals. You will feel good when you create time and space for matters of the heart. Do what you need to do, and do it with your whole heart. And remember, there is no competition for the true purpose in life, so you don’t have to worry, hurry, or put pressure on yourself.” She says everything will happen in good time. Nor should I take any drastic measures. One step at a time, consistently moving forward, is the best way to go. Ease gently into your new life, don’t be in a rush.

I bet both cards are appropriate for others besides me today, and stumbling upon them here and now is very close to picking them. That’s why I’m sharing them.

I’m following Sarasvati’s advice and surrounding myself in music. One magical song I've been listening to is "Hide in your shell" by Supertramp. Youtube-it! I was 15 when it came out. It was one of the few times I felt understood. I don’t think it needs more comment.

Harmony and Coping Mechanisms

There is no perfect way to recover, just as there is no one right way to live. Parents cannot instruct their children to avoid making mistakes (though I have tried!), and I as a recovered bulimic cannot explain how to recover. Along the lines of the 12-step programs, I choose to share my story and insights, and perhaps they will spark something off in someone to help her on her own path. Sometimes it’s hard to find our own way, and yet that is a gift from the universe: We are each entitled to our own unique path. My only advice: Get help! Therapy is priceless, worth it, and may save you a few years of your life!

Because I am stubborn, or it’s simply my nature, when I am told how to do something, I am immediately sceptical. I tend to feel suffocated by rules – real or imagined – and I just want to find my own way. There is a certain pride involved, I must admit.

Recently I realized that the problem with some of the songs I write is that they are too repetitive and predictable. (Somebody already told me that as well, but I had to figure it out myself!) They need more variety. During a walk yesterday evening, it occurred to me that sometimes the unexpected twists in songs are what make them especially interesting, not the harmonious aspect.

Since it is my nature to relate to things on different levels, I immediately thought to myself: It’s like a relationship. Perfect harmony with no discord gets to be boring and may not be authentic. The less-than-harmonic situations tend to be the ones that promote our growth and bring us closer. Or it’s like eating habits. When I was first in recovery, I ate the same breakfast and lunch every day, because I just couldn’t deal with more at the time. After a while, I did add variety, and I felt so much better!

This can be found in many aspects – in our work situation, or how we spend our free time. Studies come to mind in which workers had one task that they always did, while others rotated among different tasks. That latter group had much higher job satisfaction, and a stronger sense of actually producing something. If I recall correctly, they even did a better job! As opposed to simply identifying themselves with one isolated part.

Which brings me to the subject of coping mechanisms. After several years of sickness, I realized that my bulimic/anorexic behavior was actually a coping mechanism! It helped me deal with an otherwise impossible situation – my parents’ divorce and the aftermath, things beyond the control of a child. I recall my therapist commenting at one point that he was amazed that I had survived as well as I did. The problem was, that once I was grown up and in a position to take control over my life, I didn’t have any other coping mechanisms in my repertoire! These had to be developed, one at a time.

What to do with free time? What to do with meal requirements? What to do with feelings like pain, sadness, happiness, excitement, disappointment, nervousness, hunger, fear, anger, anticipation…? The list goes on and on. I began by simply sitting, or eating the same meal, or writing in my journal. Then I expanded the repertoire, learning to go for a walk, take a relaxing bath, go to the movies, listen to music, or call a friend. Much later I started writing songs. The possibilities are endless.

During the process of developing these coping strategies, I wasn’t consciously aware of what I was doing. My first goal was simply not to binge or throw up, and that was how I judged success for a long time. During early student life, I focussed on preparing for exams without getting into the food. Passing or failing became secondary. It was a developmental process in which I gradually learned to structure my life. It also helped assuage my fear of failure (e.g. not being perfect) and made me realize that life is about so much more than passing tests.

Recently I was in a dark space. I don’t mean a relapse; I just mean things were rather difficult for a while. My thoughts drifted back to the meeting rooms, where I haven’t been for nearly 25 years, but they left a lasting impression. I remember the mention of sitting with the pain, feeling the feelings, accepting them and going on. That is still what it’s about! It is normal to have such trying times! The other day, I went to bed and cried for a while, and then I watched a movie (Chocolat with Johnny Depp and Juliette Binoche – scrumptious!!!). At one point, my husband came into my room. One look at my swollen eyes and my wave of dismissal were enough. He patted my shoulder, walked back out, and took care of sending the kids to bed and closing things down for the night. After the movie, I went to bed. The next day, I felt peaceful and almost optimistic. And then I was able to talk to him about it.

I believe that the difficult situations are gifts from the universe. They provide opportunities to grow, explore and try new things. When I’m feeling down, I thank the universe for yet another gift. It doesn’t immediately give me an incredible boost, but it’s usually good for a smile.

Time for a Change

I really should be practicing my guitar, but I just feel like writing something non-bulimic, since I seem to have jumped in pretty deep lately. Strange things are happening, I’m not even sure what. There seems to be a shift coming on. I will do my best to let go and trust the universe. I don’t have to know what is going to happen, but I do have some preferences.

Yesterday I read a couple of other people’s blogs for a few hours, and it did so good to simply immerse myself in something else. The endless chatter in my brain stopped for a while. Yeah, even though I’m “healthy” there is still stuff to change about my life. It’s like trying to wear old clothes. After a while, they just don’t fit anymore, or they are falling apart. I was impressed by the prolific writing, positivity, communication, generosity, and empathy. How come it took me so long to get here? I’ve been feeling so isolated on my post-bulimic planet. See, I’m beginning to realize how much more we have in common than the symptoms - and I am delighted!

I feel just a bit insecure. Everyone else is much younger, and so well-versed - in computers and life, it seems. I feel kind of stupid at my age, just realizing things that an almost-30-year-old already knows! But that’s life. And luckily, there are people like that who are sharing their wisdom and experience. We can’t do or be it all. Each of us has something special to offer. We just need to find it.
Living on the outside is lonely at times. It gives me a different perspective on things (not necessarily better or worse, just different), but seems to require a lot of strength which I at times don’t have. I’m kind of rambling today. Two steps forward, one step back. And every ten steps fall down and scrape your knee. You might see something you would have otherwise missed. In the meantime, it will heal. In any case, I don’t want to walk on eggshells anymore. I don’t want to be concerned about whether or not people like me. On my good days, I don’t care, because I know better. But not every day is so good. I want to make changes in my life, so I am asking for support.

What I’m trying to say is, we are never finished with recovery. There’s always one more level. Like I’ve said before, I think that is the nature of life. We just keep learning and growing. I’m saying this for other people and for myself, because I tend to still have very high expectations and put a lot of pressure on myself. It’s not easy! Today I will summon up my energy and go out for a walk and breathe.