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Posts tagged “exercise

Christmas Wish List – Part 3

When I was in Junior High I was obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the movie, not the shitty TV show – sorry Cat).  I was especially into her tough girl-ness, and the fact that she rocked a boxing bag.

My brother has been a boxer since his early teens and I’ve always been a little envious of his boxing equipment.  He’s let me utilize some of it in the past, but he’s sort of a grump and I’d rather play with my nephews when I’m there anyway.

Several years ago I started attending kickboxing classes off and on.  And I absolutely love it.  I still go on occasion, but to be honest, it can get expensive AND when I’m teaching my own classes, I don’t always have the energy to go to other classes (aside from Zumba).  But, I love boxing.

So, on my wish list this year, aside from my all my princess gear, I’m adding a free-standing boxing bag.

boxing-bag

…..or some variation of this.

That way, I can haul it out and workout at home any time I want.

~Cheers.

 

 

 

 

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Day #13: Describe 5 Weaknesses You Have.

Weaknesses, eh?

1) My Nephews – I love my nephews so much.  They are absolutely adorable little blond, blue eyed sweeties.  And they know how to twist Aunt Sandy’s arm really well.  If they want something and they come to me with a little pout and say “Aunt Sandy….can I please have…..?”, Aunt Sandy will, like a sucker (most of the time), give in.  Sometimes I will just pop into their house for a hug and squeeze and a kiss and to call them little weirdos.  Because I love them that much.

2) The Sun – I know all the warnings but I still love to bask in the warmth of the sun.  Maybe it’s because I’m cold all the time.  The sun is my friend.

3) Exercise – If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: I am addicted to exercise.  And even on the days I say I’m not going to work out…..I usually still work out.

4) Baby animals – It is my goal in life to hug a baby cow. (I actually just said this to Blair yesterday.)  Baby animals are so adorable.  Most of them anyway.  And I melt into a big pool of poo-poo when I see them: kittens, puppies, cows, chicks, raccoons, bears, owls, etc.  We got Abby a teddy bear hamster (Teddy) last week and even tho I am aware that it’s a glorified rat, Teddy is still so darn cute and friendly that Blair and I have been fawning over him like he is a baby cow.

teddy-bear-hamster5) Driving too fast.  Um, this is something I try not to do too often but judging by the amount of speeding tickets I’ve had in my lifetime (including 3 in the last five years), it seams that having a lead foot of sorts is a weakness of mine.  I am more careful now of where I speed but man!, sometimes I feel like the speed limit of 100 km on the highway is just not fast enough….I am very diligent these days of ensuring I don’t go past 110 (permitted) unless I’m by the airport….then I just follow suit with everyone else.  Vroom vroom.

Cheers.

PS Cole Hauser is a weakness, did I say Cole Hauser?  Because I meant to say Cole Hauser.

My other boyfriend, Cole Hauser.

My other boyfriend, Cole Hauser.

 

 


Day #12: Describe a Typical Day in Your Life.

adayinthelifelogo

Weekdays – Get up, feed and water animal.  Prepare for work.  Go to work.  Work.  Have lunch with Angie Whoreface and Kritt.  Leave work.  Work out.  (Monday = gym, Barre, Yoga / Thursday = gym, Zumba, yoga – every other day is either gym, run or home workout).  Some evenings (depends on his work schedule) I am shacked up with Blair, the other evenings I am home (quality time with animal).  Sleep.

Weekends – Get up, workout, prepare for the day.  Run errands (aka run the roads). Visit friends/family.  Head to Blair’s. Dilly-dally.  Prepare dinner and hang out.  Sleep.

This week is BIRTHDAY WEEK so there will be lots of running around and whatnot.  I am spoiled and I also like to spoil myself.  I’m not above that.

Cheers.

 


Plateaus

frustration
#1 Over the last several months I’ve been working thru some health issues. Aside from the insomnia (which makes me horribly cranky and unable to function properly, leaving me, at times, not knowing what people have just said because I’m so damn tired, making them repeat sentences two or three times and then I will stare at them until they just go away), my heart has been acting up, I haven’t been able to lose weight and things are just pissing me off.

Some background:
My heart has been giving me “trouble” since high school. I started having palpitations, chest pains, skipped beats and racing and slowed beats to the point of passing out. I had to wear a heart monitor a few times to record “events” and I had several tests done as well. (Also to note, my grandmother had two heart attacks by the time she reached her early 40’s and by 45 she had a pacemaker put in.) When I was 19, after tests and this and that, I had some dillhole heart specialist tell me I’d have a pacemaker by the time I was 30. My family doctor was pissed!

Anyway, over the years and with the improvement of my lifestyle (healthy eating, exercise addiction, etc.) my heart palpitations subsided somewhat. On occasion I would have chest pains or skipped beats and whatnot but not to the extremities that I had had when I was younger. But then, this mid winter I started experiencing more frequent chest pains and heart palpitations – skipped beats and racing to the point of gasping for breath, and also the physical reactions of anxiety attacks. At first I thought it was all a side effect of my “bootcamp”** exercising but things have not gotten better. So, eventually I went to see my doctor. She sent me for more tests; blood work, EKGs, another wearing of that super sexy heart monitor. Then, two days after I stopped wearing the monitor I thought I had a mild heart attack. I was at Blair’s working out on the eliptical and I got struck with the most intense chest pains I’ve ever had. The only way I can describe it is by saying it felt like I was being stabbed and electrocuted at the same time (although, I’m just guessing. I’ve never actually been stabbed. Electrocuted; li’l bit.). The pain knocked me over and I grabbed my chest, gasped for air and made a noise that scared the shizz out of Blair. I should have made the decision right then and there to go to the hospital but I’m stubborn and stupid and let the pain subside.

So, the other day I went back to my doctor. My blood work has come back super-duper but we’re still waiting on the results of the monitor. And I have an appointment to see the heart specialist (Internalist?) in 2 weeks. My doctor, of course, yelled at me for not getting my butt to the ER last week.

**Now, comes the other shizz (I like the word “shizz” almost as much as Thoughtsy over at Thoughts Appear likes “asshat”): This Bootcamp that I started a few months ago is a hybrid of exercises. As you may know, I’m a little obsessed with exercising. It runs my life. At first I thought it was a healthy addiction but addiction is addiction. So, I work out, at minimum, 6 days a week (sometimes 2 or 3 tiems a day), two of those days I’m at the gym for 3 hours (2 hours in the actual gym then an hour of Suzi’s intense Zumba), the rest of the week I rotate between the gym or videos at home (Insanity, P90X, etc. and as of April 1st I’ve also been participating in the 30 days Squat challenge). I use weights, do a lot of cardio, work on my abs (they’re under there somewhere!), etc. etc. etc. Unfortunately, my weight has plateaued. And I am super-pissed.

I work my ass off. There are days that I come to work after not sleeping, barely able to stand up, but follow thru with my regime….even if it means dragging my butt to the gym for those three hours when I can barely keep my eyes open. And to not lose weight is frustrating beyong belief. (The 16 year old recovering anorexic/bulimic inside me still can’t get past the number sometimes.) Of course, I brought all of this up to my doctor and even asked her if she was familiar with Overtraining Syndrome, as it’s something my Zumba instructor is going thru. She and I share a lot of the same symptoms (hello, heart palpitations) but my doctor doesn’t think that my health concerns or plateau are related to this “syndrome” so it’s leaving us to question what it could be since my eating habits are healthy healthy healthy and my bloodwork has proved that, aside from my heart problem, I am healthy (my cholesterol levels are “impeccable”). So, I’m left wondering and fighting with myself once again. One thing that everybody and their dog seems to be suggesting is that I should cut down my exercising. I know this may seem like any easy answer and one that makes sense but, like I said, addiction is addiction and I’ve been exercising daily for years so for me to quit “cold turkey” gives me some anxiety and guilt.

#2 Back at the end of September I had surgery on my eye (see here) and have been attending appointments since then to see (pun!) how my improvement/healing is coming along. I’ve had A LOT of appointments and several CT scans of my eye. My vision has been improving although my sight still isn’t up to par. Currently my vision is 20/20 although I still can’t properly see in my left eye. I know that sounds weird but it makes sense, trust me. Anyway, 5 weeks ago I had a CT scan and was told I could stop taking all of my drops because the swelling was still coming down in my eye and hopefully (hopefully, Doc??) it would continue to come down sans drops. But yesterday I went back for another CT scan and Doc is a little concerned because my improvement/healing has plateaued. At this point things are sort of up in the air.

Sooo….in a few months I’m going back for yet another CT scan, although this time it will be with a new higher tech machine and they’ll be able to see (another pun!) more and figure this shizz out. I will, however, need to go back on more drops and then, he said, have medication injected into my eye. INJECTED. Injected with what? I asked. With a needle. Another needle in my eye. Oh my chest! Pains. Chest pains.

In conclusion to all this: I hate Pleateaus just as much (maybe more) as I hate needles. And I really hate needles. Especially needles that go in my eye. Especially needles that go in my eye while I’m fully conscious. We’ll see (I LOVE PUNS!) how things go.

Cheers.


PHAT with a P.H.!!

“Is It Ever Okay to Comment on Someone’s Weight?”  I saw this article recently and thought I’d “weigh” in on the subject.

So, is it ever okay to comment on someone’s weight?  Well, that depends.  Are YOU a doctor?  No?  Then mind your own business!!

I grew up kinda chubby.  Not really fat but definitely not thin.  In high school I had several eating disorders (see: https://welcometosandyland.wordpress.com/2012/01/16/my-secret-obsession/) and slimmed down.  After high school I maintained my weight for a while, then gained some and in college lost some.  But it was after college that I “ballooned” up.  In college I had a little accident and spent 14 weeks on crutches and then a few weeks with a cane.  This, of course, hindered my exercise regime.  After college, when I started dating my now ex-boyfriend and he moved in, my weight started going up.  In part because I was eating differently with him.  I was never a meat and potatoes type of girl, but he was so I began eating meals with him.  That definitely affected my weight.  Also, I was on a medication that, aside from some crazy-ass night terrors, a side affect was weight gain.  It took me years, however, to realize that this medication was a factor in me packing on the pounds.  I knew I had put on a ton (pun!) of weight, I just didn’t completely know why.

But here’s the thing – and it’s important – I knew I was fat.  I didn’t need anyone else to point it out to me.  I knew I had grown out of my college clothes.  I knew I didn’t look or feel my best.  I knew that my jiggly parts shouldn’t be that jiggly. Was I proud of being fat?  No.  Was I embarrassed of being fat?  Yes.  Would it have been mortifying to have someone point out the obvious, that I was overweight?  You’re friggin’ right!  I would like to believe that I would have been a strong enough person, emotionally, to punch a person in the face had he or she addressed my weight issue.  But, the truth is I would have cried for days and days.  I would have been ashamed and embarrassed.

I know people judged me.  I know they still judge me.  We all judge each other.  It’s an unfortunate part of human nature.  But, we should, as often as we can, try to put ourselves in the shoes of other people and try not to be assholes.  Fat people know they’re fat.  But whose business is it to comment on it?  Aside from a medical professional, it’s no one’s business.  It’d be like telling a person with a lisp that he/she had a lisp.  You think that person doesn’t already know?  Now, you’re an asshole and that person feels like a big bag of nothing because you pointed out that he/she talks funny.  Dick.

Just to be clear on this….commenting on someone’s weight is different than addressing a health concern with a loved one.  When I was overweight my dad would often (and kindly) tell me that I should do what I can to try and get my weight down because it’d be “harder to do when you get to be my age.”

The article I read which prompted this post (http://www.chatelaine.com/health/wellness/is-it-wrong-to-call-melissa-mccarthy-fat-or-simply-stating-the-obvious/) has film critic, Rex Reed calling actress Melissa McCarthy “tractor-sized” and a “humongous creep”.  To add insult to injury, this isn’t the first time McCarthy’s weight has been the topic of discussion.  But I’m not going to address that at all because I refuse to give that writer any more “celebrity.”  The issue at hand for Mr. Reed should be whether or not the movie sucked (I can’t comment because I haven’t seen it – tho I want to…and I will.  Up yours, Reed!) and whether or not Melissa McCarthy can act…and she can.  In fact, she’s a great actress.    I enjoy her.  I think she’s funny and I also think she’s beautiful.  Do I think she’s overweight?  Who cares?  I’m sure she has addressed this issue to death.  Do I feel the need to make comment on her weight when discussing her performances?  No.  I  don’t.  At all.  A) Because it doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t affect her ability to say her lines or hit her mark.  She’s a believable actress.  B) Because it’s none of my business.

Phat!  With a P.H., bitches!!

Phat! With a P.H., bitches!!

It’s also unfortunate that it seems to be “overweight” women who are targeted for this ridicule.  It’s never “Pencil-thin” Gwyneth Paltrow or “nearly-invisible” Claire Danes (LOVE AND KISSES TO YOU BOTH!!!).  And men never seem to have the same weight-watchers that their female counterparts have: Chris Farley (RIP), John Candy (RIP), John Goodman (OMG YOU RULE!).

If I weren't already gonna marry Cole Hauser, I'd ask YOU to marry me!

If I weren’t already gonna marry Cole Hauser, I’d ask YOU to marry me!

These dudes ruled the roost.  Their performances funny and dramatic and right on cue…and (rarely) (n)ever did a critic seem to be concerned with their weight or that they were “tractor-sized.”

Regardless of the gender, tho, it is never right to comment on someone’s weight.  That person could be suffering from an eating disorder or the loss of a loved one or could have a medical condition or could be overweight from a condition not yet diagnosed.  Or that person could just be fat because he or she is fat.  And guess what.  He/she is well aware of it!  So, be a good person and keep your trap shut.

Cheers.

 


BEGIN: BOOTCAMP

So, I’ve decided to do another bootcamp.  Only this time I’VE designed the program.

boot-campIf you’ve been reading my blog for any amount of time you’ll know that I am (or attempt to be) a fitness buff.  I work out on a nearly daily basis and I usually follow a pretty strict “diet” – meaning, I try to eat healthy and not overeat*.  On occasion I will indulge in something if I really want it badly enough, however, with my exercise restrictions after surgery and then Christmas treats, I feel like I’ve mammothed up and that my body isn’t where I want it to be.
I realize that my self esteem issues will continue to stand in my way of seeing what I’ve accomplished over the years with my fanatical faithful fitness following but I still don’t feel like I’m “there” yet.

(*My biggest problem is that I don’t actually eat enough/consume enough calories throughout the day, which is likely why I’ve plateaued. *sad face*)

I will be tracking my progress and hopefully posting on my workout routines and sharing food ideas.  Last year I documented every single day of my workouts.  I have continued to do this again this year.  I feel that being accountable certainly helps out.

Sunday (Begin: Bootcamp) – 1 hour at the (mad)gym in the am + 1 hour of P90X yoga in the late afternoon.

I also did crazy grocery shopping yesterday spending tons of money on produce and other things to prepare my meals a bit better.  Although I always have fruits and vegetables in the house I feel like, lately, I’ve not taken advantage of all that’s offered (especially with those damn Christmas treats lingering in my deep freeze *drool*).  Here’s a list of (some of) what’s in my fridge:

Sweet potato
Red and green peppers
Red and green onion
Garlic (always a staple)
Strawberries
Blueberries
Bananas
Pineapple
Dragonfruit
Cabbage
Carrots
Mushrooms
Tomato
Sugar snap peas (one of my favorite snacks)
Pomelo
Cucumber
Salad greens
Radishes
Coconut water
Almond milk
Yogurt
Seeds and nuts and beans and quinoa (not kept in the fridge, duh)

fruits n veg

I think this is a pretty great list of food and I will have tons of options when it comes time to make meals.  (*Just another note so I don’t get lectured, I also have meat/poultry/fish and other protein options.)

Last night for dinner I had a 1/4 sweet potato, greens and a 1/4 cup of chopped beef marinated in tangerine, guava and pink peppercorn dressing, garlic and pepper and then cooked in the oven.  In the evening I also had a 1/3 dragonfruit and a handful of sunflower seeds.

A little flavor goes a long way.

A little flavor goes a long way.

My big goals for the week are to drink more water – like gallons and gallons of it – and to sleep more, which has only become  a problem since I’ve developed some weird semi-form of insomnia within the last 6-7 weeks.  OMG, it SUCKS!  I can be exhausted all day long.  To the point where I don’t have the energy to blink and then when I hit the sack I’m wide awake all night, normally not finally falling asleep until 4 or 5 or even 6 in the morning.  Even with sleep aids I’ve been having issues.  I don’t know what my problem is but I’m pretty friggin’ cranky in the interim.

So yeah, drinking more water (more than usual so that I always feel full and hydrated) and working on that sleep thing (please keep your fingers crossed for me for this).  Our bodies always function better when watered and rested.

Man, this chick's got it made.

Man, this chick’s got it made.

My fitness routine for this evening was:  35 minutes of P90X yoga and a Zumba class. *whew*

Don’t worry, I’m not going to be bombarding you with every single workout and a play-by-play of what I’m eating.  But here’s hoping for some great results and finally getting over this hurdle.  And I welcome any of you to join me.

Olivia rocked it.

Olivia rocked it.

Cheers.


Moo-ve!

Last night was class night and instead of driving all the way home and back again I, instead, opted to go to my mom and dad’s and let them feed me.  Before I chowed down   ate and ran   had dinner I went for my walk to keep up my lame post-surgery routine (only 3 weeks left to go!!!).

Not far from my parents’ house/where I grew up in rural Nova Scotia is a dairy farm;  so up and over the hill there are often stray cows grazing in the pasture.

Home, home on the range…

When I was 14 or 15 my good friend Kim was visiting and we decided to go for a walk and shortcutted thru the field.  Upon entering the field we lingered not-too-far from a cow.

Mad Cow Disease?

Now, as I said, I grew up in the rural area.  I’d been to farms. I’d seen cows before.  It wasn’t a big deal for me.  However, Kim grew up in the suburbs near the businesses and the malls.  She’d never been close to farm animals.  Especially not this close to a grazing cow.  My intentions were to ignore is: “Leave it alone and it will go away.”

I’m not sure exactly what happened next.  Did Kim make threatening eye contact?  Did she have an obnoxious air about her?  Did she piss off this cow in some unspoken way?  I have no idea what prompted it but the cow suddenly charged Kim….Mad Cow maybe?

It was like something out of a cartoon.

Here kitty, kitty, kitty.

The cow raced after Kim, she ran to get away from it and I ran after, laughing the whole time.

Two things happened:

a) Kim moved faster than I’ve ever seen her move…I’ve yet to see anyone run that fast again.

b) Kim, all 6 feet, 1 inch of her, leaped thru the air and over the fence that would soon separate her from her near-death experience.

That’s what I thought about on my walk yesterday as I strolled by a busy field of cows.  Good memories from my childhood.

Cheers.


My Secret Obsession

This is something extremely personal.  I wrote this originally when I was 18 or 19 years old as an assignment on “Flaws” for a writers’ group I belonged to.  I had never talked about this topic before I’d written this and I never talked about it until many years later.  But, it’s part of me.  This experience (one of many) has shaped me…it’s moulded me into who I am and I wanted to share it with you.
 
MY SECRET OBSESSION (circa 1995-ish)
 
My good friend Jenny still doesn’t understand the need I had a few years back to thin, and the “secret” obsession I had with my body.  And I must admit, sometimes I even wonder why I let something so dangerous take over my life.
Although I was always a little pudgy, I was never really fat.  I had lots of friends and was quite popular.  I was smart and always had the best of everything.  Maybe that’s why I became so destructive; In the day of supermodels and waifs I had to look the best and my self image was not that.
 
I was in the tenth grade in high school and I started dieting early in the year.  Around the first month of school.  I became picky about what I ate, which usually wasn’t much, and I began to exercise more, too.  By early December I had lost a reasonable amount of weight and became quite irritable.  My Family Studies teacher noticed this and became concerned, especially one day when we were supposed to eat the assignments we had just prepared and I refused to do so.  I got very frustrated with her and began screaming at her that I was 16 years old and knew if I wanted to eat or not.  I stormed out of the classroom in a rage.  That night my parents received a phone call from the teacher.  She explained what had happened that day.  She was concerned and upset, not angry.  She told my mother that she had noticed my weight loss and from what she’d seen in a class assignment (where we were to total up the calories we’d consumed in a day and my total calories for a week didn’t total a normal day’s) she concluded that I had all the signs of developing or having an eating disorder.
 
My parents were concerned and sat me down for a long talk about the dangers of eating disorders.  I was furious at the teacher for having stuck her nose in my business.  I went to my room and cried for hours.  From that day on my entire life was focused on food and my body.  To me, nothing was important except being thin and beautiful.  For about two months I lived on practically nothing.  In the mornings before school, I’d dip my spoon in the yogurt container and that would be it.  Some days I’d have an apple for lunch, other days I’d have nothing until dinner when I’d have a few veggies.  And sometimes I’d skip the meal altogether.  I lost 10 pounds in just over a week.  Food was about the only thing in my life that I had total control over.
 
My days at school were pretty intense at first.  The hunger pains were so bad and the growling in my stomach was so loud I thought everyone in my class could hear.  I found concentrating on school work hard because I was always, constantly, thinking of what I was going to do to get skinny.  The only class I could fully concentrate in was Family Studies and this was because we were doing an entire section on eating disorders and fad diets.  This became my new obsession.  Finding new ways to lose weight.  All the videos, the articles, the pamphlets, the speeches that were supposed to scare us, all they did for me was teach me new tricks to get the body I wanted.  I would sit in the back of the class with my friends watching the ultra-skinny bony girls on tv and when everyone else was gagging and becoming nauseous at their confessions, I was secretly smiling and laughing inside.
 
I also became more obsessive about exercising.  I would come home from school and go directly to my room and exercise.  Then, after my so-called “dinner” I’d return to my room and exercise some more.  While all my friends were watching Oprah or at the mall, I was sweating to heavy dance music, hoping that I’d lose the weight I hated.  I remember once, after eating next to nothing for three days, I had exercised so much and was so tired, that I’d completely passed out.  Only to wake a while later and return to my sweaty habit.
 
By this time I wasn’t eating a thing except maybe that small portion of yogurt at breakfast and a bottle of water for lunch.  I remember the compliments that I got from so many people on how good I looked and how they wished they could lose some weight.  I especially remember one boy, who I’d had a slight crush on in elementary school.  I walked into class one day and he looked at me and asked if I’d lost some weight.  When I replied “yes” he looked me over again, nodded, and said “You look good.”  It may not seem like that big of a deal, but at that time, to me, it was the world at my feet.
 
At this same time, my brother, who’s always been a skinny little runt and found it necessary to tease me about my weight since I was a child, was trying to gain weight.  He’d eat and eat and one night he weighed himself and was disappointed to find he’d lost a few pounds.  Imagine my mortification when, after all my starving and exercising, I realized I’d gained half a pound.  I screamed, ashamed, and once again, cried for hours.
 
Not long after that a friend from school loaned me a book titled Even If It Kills Me, about a girl, a lot like me, who did everything in her power to be thin, including forcing herself to vomit.  Something I vowed I would never do.  I read the entire book that night and cried for the girl and for myself.  The girl was not just a fictitious character, she was my friend.  She was me.
 
Now, something else happened right around this time that helped me, determined me, to lose weight: Kelly on my (then) favorite tv show (Beverly Hills, 90210) developed an eating disorder.  She was beautiful and thin and like me, she saw herself as overweight and disgusting.  So now I had a new diet partner.  And one night Kelly gave me a new idea to lose weight…Diet Pills.  So, the next night, off to the mall I went with my aunt Donna in search of the wondrous pill.  However, when Donna realized what I was looking for she said “No way!”  Instead, she took me to the health food store.  Yeah!  Just what I needed.  Food.  No thanks!  So I just continued with my own way of dealing, just like Kelly.
 
I tried everything: dieting, fasting, exercising, liquid diets, diuretics, it wasn’t good enough.  So now it was time to break the mould; to go to extremes.  I broke my vow and one night I leaned over my toilet and stuck two fingers down my throat.  All I did was gag.  Nothing came up.  I was disappointed and a little glad.  For months and months I’d survived without succumbing to something so disgusting.  But soon I was sticking my fingers down my throat all the time.
 
Then one day, when my cousin was visiting for dinner, I ate.  Not very much, but my stomach had shrunk so much I was in utter agony.  I waited in pain until everyone left the house and as soon as they had I rushed to the bathroom, flung up the seat cover and shoved my fingers down my throat until everything came up.  Then I did it again.  When I had finished I say there, staring at what I had done.  I began to cry.  I looked in the mirror and cried even more at what I had become.  This eating disease had left me ashamed and alone.  I no longer had control over it, it had control over me.
 
I gathered myself up and waited for an hour for my mother to return, crying the entire time.  When she finally drove in the yard I wiped my tears away and put on a cool face.  she came in the house and asked me if I wanted to go to my grandparents’ house where everyone was.  I wanted to go.  I knew it was time to tell my secret.  But I couldn’t.  Not yet.  My mother looked at me and asked me if I’d been crying.  In my mind I was screaming yes but I merely shook my head and went to the car.
 
When we arrived at my grandparents’, everyone was laughing and having a good time while I was dying inside.  After a few minutes I decided the time was right and I called my mother and Donna into the bedroom.  I knew they both loved me as much as anyone could love anybody and I hated to hurt them, but I was hurting myself and I needed help.  When they were both in the room and the door was closed I was already crying and shaking.  I confessed to them what I had done that night and what I’d been doing for the past 6 or more months.  And I finally admitted out loud that I needed help.  When I finished talking I realized they were both crying.  I knew I had hurt them so much and hated myself even more.  But I was so glad that my secret was finally out and I would get the help I needed.  They both hugged me and we talked for a while.  I honestly felt good for the first time.  I was free.  No longer confined in the prison I called my body.
 
I didn’t go to school the next day and the day after that my mother took me to my doctor, who I now consider my friend and love.  I began to tell her why I was there by again, but all I could do was cry.  She leaned over and put her arms around me and just let me cry.  For about the next seven months I saw her at least once a week.  And saw two dietitians.  My mother, as well as the doctor, wanted me to attend an eating disorders clinic but I refused.  Still, the thought of being surrounded by thin women and girls scared me to death.  I didn’t want to be compared to their thin bodies and I certainly didn’t want to be another statistic.
 
So I got through it with my doctors’ help and my family and friends.  My best friend, Kim was very understanding.  She was always there when I needed to confess and she encouraged me when I was down.  However, my other friend Jenny did not understand at all.  She said it was stupid and pointless.  Starving yourself to look good, she scoffed.  She even sent me into a relapse.  I can’t blame her, really.  She wasn’t there forcing me to force my fingers down my throat.  I hated myself once again.  And I especially hated the fact that I let her get to me.
 
As the weeks turned into months and I learned how to deal with my problem and how to eat all over again, I noticed that all the beautiful clothes that I had gotten at the finest shoppes during my dramatic weight loss were becoming a little snug, and eventually too tight.  I was crushed.  In just about a year (more or less) I had gained back most of the weight I had once lost.  And I fell back into my obsessive patterns once again.  I stopped eating and exercised like a maniac.  I was losing control and knew I had to stop.  So I made a promise to myself that I would lose the weight and never be fat again.  I began following a smart and healthy diet, cutting out fatty and high calorie foods, and began a great exercise program.  In seven months I’ve missed only one day of physical activity, but I eat healthy so I know I’m okay if I do happen to miss an occasional day, which I hope I never do.
 
Most people don’t know every side of eating disorders.  For many, suicide is a thought that runs through your head quite often.  I never wanted to die (really), I just didn’t want to go on living the way I was.  I know my story isn’t as severe as some and I’m glad, because it could have been.  I’m proud I got out of the danger before it was too late.
 
Looking back on everything I realize it wasn’t just about being thin.  It was about being the thinnest.  The best.  There was a lot of competition going on in my mind.  Competition with myself and with others.  Thinking once about Kelly’s disorder, I watched everything about her.  I admired her.  And I remember how I cried when she fainted from malnourishment and her secret was found out, and how she admitted to being sick.  I felt for her because she was like me.  But at the same time, I was excited because I beat her.  I lasted longer than she did.  I had passed out more than once but no one ever knew.  It made no difference how beautiful or rich or popular she was, I still beat her.  And my ego fed off that like crazy.  I was at war with myself and I was my own worst enemy.  But that part is over.
 
There was a time when I’d weigh myself everyday, two and three times a day.  Now I have no idea what I weigh.  Through today’s eyes weight is just some digits in a box on the floor.  They don’t determine who I am, I determine who I am.  I now know the dangers of anorexia and bulimia, but I admit I’m not fully healed.  There’s not a single day that goes by that I don’t think about being super skinny.  About how easy it would be to just quit eating again.  But I’m wiser now and I have more will power.  These days I’m more aware, more energetic and more healthy.  And once again, I have control over my life.
 

Pfffttt!! Shake it if ya got it!