The Repairman

A couple of weeks ago I received “The Repairman”, which feels fitting for my life right now. 
Long term disordered eating has very real consequences. It can take a long time to unravel. 
The first time I began to restrict food, I remember a vague yet distinct feeling of having been robbed. The “thinspiration” blogs, romantic comedies and teen magazines that I’d been exposed to had never mentioned the dullness, the cold, the constant anxiety, how pointless and not-fun everything would feel. How thin my hair would be. 
The second time I began starving myself, it eventually led to PTSD and extreme binge eating, which has caused leaky gut, trouble absorbing essential nutrients, chronic fatigue, anemia, and hormone imbalances characterized by sudden spells of suicidal depression. The more painful life is, the more out of control everything feels, the weaker the bodymind feels, the harder it becomes to step out of the cycle of self-destruction. And so the snowball of repercussions grows larger and larger. There were days when it felt better to overeat simply so that I could be comforted by knowing what was making me feel terrible, rather than rest in the amorphous pain and feelings of weakness. It is not easy to become reacquainted with a body that feels so wrecked. 
And yet I believe that, with enough commitment and the right conditions, the extent to which we can heal is limitless. I am methodically re-feeding my body and mind, venturing into my mental attic to locate the false beliefs that are rotting the foundation. Doggedly chipping away at the ones that have calcified, weakening them, building a new internal environment. One of nourishment, safety and rest. Returning to the simple pleasure of reading a well-written mystery novel in bed with a purring grey cat beside me, of forest thunderstorms and watching Normal People and fresh picked blueberries. Of remembering that we live in a universe that loves us, and that there is no body weight or accomplishment that will ever make us more or less worthy of that love.

The Repairman is from The Deck of Character.

Romeo.

Relief In the Unknown

2 months until test results…??
There I was, sleeping 12 hours a day, waking up tired and unfocused. Unable to formulate cohesive thoughts, feeling like neither my mind nor body were working properly. It was unsettling and disorientating, even scary at times. After investing in an alternative gut and health doctor, I was informed that no “answers” would available for at least two months. Was I stuck being a zombie until then?
I could have continued in the same vein that had kept me running in circles the last two years and attempt to “figure everything out”. Figure out the ultimate way to eat, my career, where I needed to live. But after having recently realized that I was still operating under diet mentality’s influence (and subsequently working to unravel it), I knew that there was, in fact, another option available. So rather than seeing it as an enemy to be evaded and avoided whenever possible, I relaxed into not knowing. 
While I continue to experience symptoms, the sheer relief of relinquishing the impossible need to know everything has acted as its own profound medicine. Life has opened. Letting go is so different from giving up. It’s like performing an energetic trust fall with the universe; impossible without having the faith that you will be held, and that what you need to know will come when you are ready.
It’s not our fault that we spend so much time living and scheming in the nonexistent future. When intense sensations and emotions are present in the body it can be really overwhelming, and it feels so much safer to leave the body and live in the head instead. Trying to solve the discomfort with our minds It gives us a feeling of control. But no matter how hard we run on our mental hamster wheel, there are aspects of our experience that simply cannot be understood in the mental realm, and trying to only leaves us frustrated. When we step out of our frenetic thought loops and let ourselves be guided we remember that we are a facet of a larger, infinitely mysterious whole. And when we realize how futile trying to constantly plan and predict the future is, we are finally liberated to enjoy what is available to us in the here and now.

Hello

“A blog sounds very therapeutic. I’ll definitely start one. Well, as soon as I’m more 'enlightened’, and therefore have more to offer. Also when I’ve lost enough weight. And when I’m a more eloquent writer”.
I only wanted to write about overeating and my life from a place of reflection. Once it was all “over”. The wiser, future me felt so much more qualified…surely people would rather listen to her.
Part of why I resisted “recovery” for so long is that I knew that it would so much bigger than just getting rid of an eating disorder. The causes of this are deeply rooted in my subconscious, stretching as far back as I can remember. Unearthing them, really getting to the roots of the matter, would mean a commitment to a life-long, ever-expanding personal evolution. How could I fathom embarking on such a journey when I could barely manage to get up off the floor of my room, or make it through breakfast without uncontrollably eating two pints of ice cream from the freezer?
More on that to come- for now, having accepted that there will be no end date, no before and after, it seems like a perfect time for me to begin. Not enlightened. Not at my natural weight. I am discovering, through what feels like endless trial and error, how to properly meet my needs. The process is so much messier than I’d like it to be. Some days I fall flat on my face, and need help getting back up again. It has only been through the acceptance that I don’t know everything (and relinquishment of the need to) that I’m finally beginning to learn. I’ve decided to share my experiences not from a place of righteousness, but because when I was feeling helpless and ashamed I didn’t want science based tips or tricks- I wanted to know that I was not alone.