Living with an ED... and re-joining the gym

My son and I have been members of a gym for several years and we just joined a new one, closer to our house, better hours, more options, and something we can do together... let me explain a little though...

I have always been into working out, which is where my whole ED thing seriously started to spiral. I was sick of being teased and picked on at school and my parents didn't do much to soften the blow... my mom did more more of rubbing salt in the wounds.

Anyway... my son is a big kid. Our family is not well known for it's petite delicate frames. He is taller than me, his feet are 11's and he definitely outweighs me... it is like a big teddy bear... or a bull in a china shop. Depending on the situation. He has also been teased and picked on. He is quiet, soft-spoken, and would rather be to himself... which he kinda gets from me. But... he has a martial arts belt and so do I. We did it together. But no one would guess it, from the type of person he is. He is most likely to be teased, most likely to not fight back, but most likely to scare the hell out of someone if the instincts kick in. That's my boy and I love him.

Okay, back on topic here. In my early 20's, I met a guy who was big into working out. We tried to cook (and eat) healthy, and that kinda rubbed off on me. I worked full-time and took care of my dad. I made time to go to the Athletic Club and work out. I worked with a personal trainer. I exercised, I watched my food. I lost weight. I loved it!!! I could wear clothes that I hadn't been able to wear. I got compliments. Considering I was the ugly duckling, I loved hearing people tell me I looked good... although I was never able to graciously accept a compliment.

I lost weight, I worked out. I was happy, I felt good, I felt sexy, I felt like people noticed me.

Until they found out I had established an ED. Yep, I did. Not afraid to admit it. All workout, lots of water, little food. But I FELT PRETTY! Okay, sad excuse, but when you are wrapped up in it, you don't see what is going on. Like with a diet, you know what works and that is how you base your structure.

My dad was heavy, he had diabetes, he died of congestive heart failure. My mom was always heavy, she couldn't stay away from the snacks, and she has health issues also. My one brother has diabetes and heart problems. My second brother had diabetes, several heart attacks, and passed away due to heart failure. This is not a real good scenario for living my life and keeping my son healthy.

Once everyone found out that my weight loss was not a healthy one, I was treated like I had the plague. My world started spinning out of control and I couldn't stop. The voices, or should I say "demons" in my head kept on me. I was at the weight that I was my lowest... I was at, what they tell me, is my "ideal weight", which is why I have a hard time wrapping my head around.

To this day, I struggle with that "ideal weight". I try to explain to those who do our health risk assessment and my own doctors that that last time I was at my ideal weight, I was anorexic. I stand over 5'8" tall, I am muscular, my hands  are large, my structure is large. I cannot be a healthy ideal weight.

When I got pregnant, I really lost it. I knew I had to eat and my ex-husband made me eat. I hated it. I couldn't do it. I felt gross and disgusting. My anorexia turned to bulimia. My body didn't know which was it was going anymore. And then, in the midst of all the stress and anxiety of gaining weight, having to eat, feeling fat & bloated, stressing out... I spun back into the other side of my darkness... cutting. There was (and still is) something about that. Many people can't imagine it. Many can't understand it. Just like binging and purging... no one really can grasp that either.

There are many things that live in our darkness. I have these demons that continue to haunt me, even after 20+ years, a marriage ending in divorce, a happy healthy son, and routine excessive stress.

Okay, so we are back to the new gym. There are all body types, ages, and athletic abilities there. I feel like I can fit in. I want my son to feel comfortable and find a happiness within him. The last thing I need is for him to suffer the way I did.

I am working to make things comfortable for him. My mom is retired, so she does the cooking and much of the shopping. She complains about his eating habits and his snacking, but... seriously... SHE buys the crap he snacks on... Neither of them need it!!! Neither of them need the gallon of ice cream, the cookies, the chocolate, the chips, the other junk. 

I go shopping and buy the diet stuff, fat free stuff, mildly healthy stuff. I told my son if there is anything he wants me to buy, let me know, I will. I have also told him that just because Grandma makes a big meal, you DON'T have to clean your plate or eat everything!  If she wants to complain, she can take it up with me.

Okay, we have gone to the gym. I have hooked my son up with the personal trainer, to find out how to use the machines, what he wants to get out of this, and his whole nutrition/fitness thoughts. I think this has worked well. He is enjoying it.

Me, on the other hand, the demons still fill my head and make me think those thoughts. I see everyone working out. I want to be thin and feel pretty. I don't like how I look. I don't like anything about me, really. I want to feel sexy, but I struggle with that. I don't like looking in the mirror, I don't like my reflection, I don't like what (or who) I see. 

To be a good role model, I have to provide my son with guidance and good knowledge. I also have to battle my demons and fight with myself. I cannot let those thoughts fill his world, as his obsessive personality traits will lead him down the wrong path also. I learned from my mistakes, have to keep him from making those same ones, and still tell myself I can do it.

Struggling with any type of ED is difficult. To be honest, unless you have been through it, battled it, fought with it, you have no idea how hard it is or how strong the demons are. Those voices never seem to truly go away... they just get quieter.

 

I love my son... but...

Tonight has been melt-down city since I got home.

I went to the grocery store, and dropped almost $100 with only 3 small bags. I went for 5 things and walked out with the small bags. I got home, the roads suck, we are dealing with snow and slipper roads. My 15 minute drive from work to home took me almost a 1/2 hour. And then there was the grocery store... Anyway, I got home.

My son brought in 2 bags and I had the rest of the shit. I can only carry so much, including locking the car and closing the garage door. I ran out of fingers to carry, so I put the 5lb bag of grapefruit in my purse, as I was NOT going to make another trip. I got to the house and my son is in the kitchen and my hands are full. I put something down to open the door and half-way open he yells at me because I didn't let him open the door.

Then it was just a variety of issues rolling downhill. I asked him to put something away, he snapped and said "I will". I turned away. He then wouldn't move when I opened the fridge, so my fingers got pinched. He then apologized for pinching my fingers. Then I dropped a piece of meat on the floor, he apologized.

This kid is sweet, but I could fall off a cliff, 400 miles from him, and he would be the one apologizing it happened. That absolutely drives me nuts!

Then if I don't answer him in the correct tone of voice, so he thinks I'm mad or upset. If I talk loud, he tells me I'm yelling. Then his voice increases.

I love my child to death... but he might be the death of one of us by the time this is over.

Today he had no school, finals are over, he was up and under my feet at 5am (in my serenity space I crave in the morning) and then my mom got up. Let's add to it that, since it was cold and snowing, I don't think either of them got dressed or went outside. My parking spot, in the driveway, was still full of snow. My mom and son have been stranded together, in one house, all day... and that never means anything good will come out of it. That just adds to the stress and pain.

I left for work 20 minutes earlier than usual. And mind you, I already leave home an hour before my day starts (flash back to my statement that my commute is 15 minutes). I get my "me" time. No one looks for me at work that early, I don't have to answer phones. I take the time to group, regroup, and ease my way into my day. No one else in the department shows up for another hour after I start.

I love my son to death and wouldn't trade him for the world... except maybe this morning... and maybe tonight... I love him when he is sleeping (does that count?) I think I need a glass of wine... and some ear plugs.

Please Take a Stand!!

PLEASE TAKE A STAND TO STOP THE ABUSE... AND THE BULLYING!!

What ‘cha doin’?

Ok, so that is a routine question in my house… and it is not primarily from Phineas and Ferb… it is from my son – a teenager with obsessive tendencies. He has to be in the middle of things and can hear a conversation from across the room, but can’t seem to hear me from across the kitchen table when I ask him to use his fork, not his fingers, or to use his napkin, not his pants.

I spend all day at work, trying to get things down on the computer and answering the phone. I get enough interruptions and distractions. The last thing I want to do is come up, with good intentions of going on the computer and accomplishing something other than work, school, or church. I used to have a social life, I used to facebook, I used to tweet, I used to blog, but lately, distractions keep me sidetracked. I love my child, but it really bugs me when I am trying to do something and he is continually coming in and asking “What ‘cha doin’?” Or, even worse, stands over my shoulder to see what I am doing. I know that if I did that to him, he would flip a gasket! And when it isn’t him, it’s Grandma. Yes, she does the same thing. She has no clue on computers or the internet, but standing over my shoulder is her part-time job apparently.

Sometimes, I even wonder if the cats have the same thoughts? Especially as they stand on top of me and stare down at me, with that “look” on their face.  Can you imagine your cat staring down at you and suddenly saying “What ‘cha doin’?” Yep, I can!!!! (If you knew my cats, you would think so too.)

Why can’t a girl get some time alone? Oh yea, trust me, even the bathroom is not a sacred place… no one needs it until I am in there, nor does anyone want to talk to me until that same time. Maybe that is why the cats hang in the bathroom with me when I’m getting dressed or taking a bath? For the seclusion? Who knows… maybe.