The never ending tooth saga

For more or less, this is a whiny post. For the past month in a half, I have been in horrible tooth pain...again. I feel like this will never end. I think this infection has been brewing since January, but none of my dentists seemed to take me seriously - all thinking it was residual from a filling. I'm very frustrated by this, as I feel like if it had been dealt with then, I would not be in this situation now. But isn't this the story of all of our lives?

I called my endodontist this past Thursday as I am scheduled for a root canal on Tuesday, but they were out of the office until then. I called my regular dentist, but they said they could only recommend painkillers, and since I do not do well with just about every one (percocet is the only one I did okay with but had nausea and discomfort this time around), that was out of the question. I asked if I could at least be put on another antibiotic, no answer there. Since the pain has worsened and now the gum surrounding the tooth is infected/swollen, I called my regular dentist after hours. I'm hopeful she calls me back. I've tried some natural remedies, like onion and clove to no avail. They only gave very temporary relief. I've tried alcohol just to numb the tooth pain and gum, as well as tea bags with no success

So, I feel like I'm doomed to a lot of ibuprofen and tylenol. It's been within safe limits, but it's uncomfortable taking that much amount of meds to be honest, especially with past liver issues (now fine).

On top of all this, I have another infection in my mouth as well. With that one, it is in my gum surrounding my one tooth on my upper left side (used to have a bridge there). We cannot figure out why the infection won't drain and just stays there. This has caused intense itching, and again, has been for quite some time.

Then, in general, this is all a huge amount of money to fix. :sigh: Even in recovery, the after effects of an eating disorder looms. It is really disheartening.

Mourning the loss of a self.

It is not often that I read an article and really relate to it like I did this one: Leaving the sport, gaining an eating disorder.  Though I'm not big on the title "gaining an eating disorder" like it was something that came out of the blue, I did like some of the points the article mentioned.

The big highlight to me was about loss of identity.  Here was this woman who had devoted her life to gymnastics, retired, and then appeared to become fixated on her body.  While it is true as she says, "The same quality that made me great at sports made me want to get really skinny," the real underlying issue was feeling a huge loss--a life she had known, now going into the unknown, feeling lost, and developing a different identity for herself.

Coming from similar experiences, it is hard to "find" a new identity.  There are those who go unscathed and immediately jump into something new with ease, but I think for a lot of people it isn't easy.  With eating disorders, this can be seen on both ends of the spectrum.  For some, it is the beginning of an eating disorder, for others, it is a loss of an eating disorder as they enter recovery.  What both have in common is that each necessarily needs time to mourn.  I think people forget this and then blame themselves for not being "over" it (whatever that may be); or, they may feel that pressure from misunderstood people.  Or, they hold onto the ideal, that this is their only identity.

For those of you who need scientific evidence, in this New Yorker piece, "Scientists have found that grief, like fear, is a stress reaction, attended by deep physiological change."

The take home message here is that it is okay to feel sad and upset.  In fact, I think it is important and healthy. This doesn't mean it has to be some huge event, or some tear jerking session (though of course it is okay to cry too-nothing wrong with that), but it's more a feeling of a kind of acceptance.  It's knowing that the loss of one identity allows for us to grow into a different identity--an identity that we can embrace, learn to like, and be successful at.

The woman in this article was lucky in that her eating disordered behavior only lasted about a year.  For many others, it is a long, drawn out process of years.  I hope those reading are not in the latter.  But if you are, and this is one of the things you've held onto-the identity of an ED, I hope you will be able to eventually let go of it.  A good question to ponder here is: how do you want to be remembered--the eating disordered girl? What identity do you want?

Measures of our worth

I read this article today about a scale bashing party. I thought what a fantastic idea for those who struggle or feel chained to the scale. If you're in the central New Jersey area, this might be a good event for you!

It's funny how a mere piece of metal can be symbolic for many of us. Where did we learn this?

I've never been what I called horribly "chained" to the scale. It mattered, but for me it was more how my pants fit and whatever my tape measure read. Yes, I don't think I've ever mentioned this on this blog, but I used to have a bit of an obsession with my tape measure. Similar to a scale, it used to be the measure for what I was going to consume that day (or not).

Even when I was in college and in my 20s, when I tried buying a scale, I wound up taking it back to the store a few days later. I was somehow afraid I'd become a devout worshiper to it. However, I could not let go of my tape measure which I brought with me to many conferences, sleepovers, visits to my parents's houses, etc. It essentially went with me everywhere!

Where am I now with this once over obsession? Well, it's not completely gone but a whole lot better than it used to be. It no longer holds so much value as it once did but is still a lasting reminder of the ED. It's like the old pair of jeans you know you should get rid of but hold on to for security purposes.

What are reminders of your ED that you know you should really get rid of? Is it the scale, a piece of clothing, a book, etc.? What are other measures of your worth?

On the same taken, have you ever bashed your scale, burned clothing, books, journals, all out of symbolism?

Discussion boards

These days, I don't post much on discussion boards. However, I was intrigued by a new website Secret Society of Women. I had read a recent article on Lisa Ling where she talked about her miscarriage last year. She decided to create this website for women to share their secrets, wisdom, gratitudes, wishes, etc. anonymously.

In order to view the website, you do have to register. I browsed the topics in their secrets section. There are a variety--everything from body image/eating disorders to marriage/divorce, resentments/regrets, fears/phobias, loneliness, addictions, pregnancy, religion/spirituality, and more. I found it ironic that the thread which had the most responses was on a topic about fear of pitbulls.

Anyway, I did want to pass on the site in case anyone was interested in participating. The ED section is not like the SF Board where numbers are not permitted, so do proceed with caution if numbers trigger you. The site itself, however, is moderated and if there are red flags, actions are taken accordingly.

In my personal experience, discussion boards have a bit of a love/hate relationship with me in terms of Ed/mental health. (For whatever reason, I have a much better positive vibe with small group e-mail lists) I have met some wonderful people from discussion boards--some have become great friends, but at other times, I felt exasperated, annoyed, and unworthy. I also know how easy it can be to get sucked in and read posts all day. At one point in high school and early college, I was like that which also paralleled the time the ED was the worst for me. I've learned that I tend to gravitate towards these type of boards when I'm doing poorly, depressed, lonely, etc. It's almost become one red flag for me.

Saying that, this is not to say I'm doing poorly, but I know this is a tough time for me. I know it'll get better eventually, and that it is important to remain optimistic. I also know lonely moments and depressed feelings are natural, but like anything, dwelling on it doesn't help matters. Instead, what I'm going to focus on instead is what I have to look forward to. I'm going to try to find at least one thing, no matter how small or simple, every day to look forward to. I figure it is good motivation if nothing else.

So today's Looking Forward To thought is making banana bread and brownies for my neighbor who graciously took care of my dogs and bunny while I was away last week.

Do you belong to discussion boards? What is your experience with them? Yay or Nay?
What things do you have to look forward to this week? Share your comments.

My thoughts on Black Swan

Niko Tavernise via Fox Searchlight

I'm finally getting around to writing my thoughts on the movie Black Swan. Though I'm a month late in writing this, I figured this would be a good time since the Golden Globes are on tonight. Black Swan is nominated for 4 Globes, and Natalie Portman is the favorite in the best actor category. By the way, I think this will be her first real public showing with the new "bun" in the oven so to speak.

Anyway, it is interesting, because although I had known about Black Swan being an Oscar contender way before its actual release date, it wasn't until about a week before its limited release that it began to garner a huge amount of press. I first heard about the lengths which Natalie Portman went through for the role in this Fresh Air interview with Terry Gross (as you can tell I listen to a lot of NPR ;-)) Then, there were a slew of other articles which came out about "discipline", possible encouragement of eating disorders, etc. This movie was quite the buzz, especially for body image/eating disorder advocates, the pro-ana movement, and the ballet world. More attention was given with the New York Times ballet critic Alastair Macauley' s disparaging remark of Jennifer Ringer's body "looking as if she'd eaten one sugar plum too many" in his review of the Nutcracker. With all this press, would it cause more people to actually see the movie?

I do not know the actual figure count into how many people have seen the movie. Critics have given it quite a number of accolades. People, in general, however have viewed it with mixed reactions. One dog trainer I know on facebook (she is not into tutus, frills, or ballet) wound up loving it, relating it to the movie Stigmata. A number of reviews I've seen by other people thought the movie was good, but it wasn't one they would necessarily see again.

Here's my take, it was a good movie, Natalie Portman portrayed the role of Nina well, but it is not a movie for everyone. I still have some mixed feelings about it since it does show an exaggerated, albeit dark side to the world of ballet. A few Canadian professional ballet dancers explain it well here. Also, I think some of the sexuality in the film could have been toned down. I just didn't see it as necessary, but then again this is Hollywood, and drama brings in big bucks.

In terms of the "encouragement" of eating disorders, I had a hard time seeing that. Yes, there were several food scenes where Nina hardly ate or just took a taste of congratulatory cake her mom had brought her, scenes of purging (though this seemed a lot more due to nervousness, worry than a feeling of fat). The dancers in general were thin--overly I don't think but then again my view of thin may be different from what someone else sees. The thing about whether this movie would be triggering, well, it depends on how you look at it. Some may see it as glorifying eating disorders if that is what they are looking for; while others view it vastly differently in that it gives just an opposite opinion. You have to decide for yourself on that one.

In terms of themes, the movie portrays a number of them, including dedication, physical price for an art, obsession, paranoia, an overcontrolling parent, and most of all perfection. Throughout the movie, you hear Nina say, "I just want to be perfect." It becomes an all consuming adjective that many of us can relate to. Natalie Portman portrays this well in the role--to the point of craziness with hallucinations, delusions, and paranoia. In the end, she sacrifces herself for it with her last line, "I was perfect." Some might call this melodramatic or over the top, but really what is shows is the idea that when you become so wrapped up in something, you lose yourself figuratively and possibly literally.

There are a few other stand out quotes from the movie, both said by Thomas Leroy, the ballet director in the movie. "The only person standing in your way is you" and "Perfection is not just about control...It's also about letting go."

These remind me a lot of recovery--that there is something to be said for letting go to be perfect. Perfectionism isn't just about the aspects of restraint and control but also to feel, to have balance in your life, to realize there is a lot out there rather than the bubble we may place ourselves in, etc. I hope we can eventually all get outside our insular bubble before we lose ourselves or have the inability to grasp it again within reach.

Notes--Fox Searchlight site has a a lot of good info. about insight into the movie. I was also really glad that although the actors took a very strenuous approach for these roles, they were able to quickly get themselves to a healthier state. One thing Natalie did say in an interview which I do not think all actors do is that when she finishes a scene, she goes back to herself. I think this helped her not fall into an ED victim with extreme dieting and exercise.

Reminders of recovery

I'm super busy this week with working on a powerpoint for work, conference calls, and working on a big project for October, so though I have posts I really want to write, they are going to have to wait until the end of the weekend.

In the meantime, here are some cool photos I took recently that reminded me of recovery:

I happened to see these yesterday afternoon on my three-quarter eaten curly parsley plant for Clover. I originally thought they were some kind of worm, but from a quick google image search, I learned they were Black Swallowtail caterpillars. As we all know with caterpillars, they eventually metamorphose into beautiful butterflies.

I think recovery can be looked at like the life cycle of a butterfly. ( ) is my interpretation of ED recovery. Butterflies start with an egg (idea of recovery forms) In the larva stage, they are caterpillars where they eat to grow (re-feeding/weight gain) The third stage is the Chrysalis or pupa stage. This is when the caterpillar has reached its full weight/length and forms a pupa (cocoon structure) It may look like nothing is going on, but amazing transformations are taking place inside. Tissues, limbs, and organs are becoming developed for the butterfly (ED processing, change of thoughts, ideas, and actions) In the fourth and final stage, beautiful adult butterflies emerge. The butterflies shed their cocoon substance and have soft, folded wings which they must learn to fly with in order to survive and mate. (testing the waters of recovery, may be a slow process, learn to apply knowledge we have learned)

In this last stage, we learn, rediscover, and break free from the ED. We emerge more aware, more understanding, and in a healthier state of body and mind. Just like the life cycle of a butterfly continues on and on, sometimes our recovery is too. It may take more than one life cycle of a butterfly for us to finally turn into that butterfly of recovery.

Recovery is also like a tunnel. It is long and can be windy. We may feel like we are stuck in one particular spot forever, but in reality, there is always an end, an opening, a light at the end of the tunnel. At times, it is only that light that reminds us of the goal, keeps us in perspective when all feels lost or we are frustrated. Therefore, if we continue through the tunnel, we can eventually find our way out.

Note--*Caterpillar pictures were taken at night! I was quite impressed with myself!

Why we wait

The last few days I've been thinking about the question of why we wait to get treatment.  This question surfaced when a client e-mailed telling us she would not be in class this past week.  Her e-mail had said she had a family emergency where her "bad" dog almost tried to kill her "sweet" dog. From other details of the e-mail, this assessment would be about right since the injured dog wound up in a neuro ICU at an emergency vet clinic for four days and now needs constant care.

A., my boss, and I had discussed this client before.  She had not asked about private consultations, but we knew it sounded like she could benefit from them.  She lives with 5 or 6 German Shepherds, at least 1 or 2 of them have to remain separate from the rest, and the most recent GSD, her son's dog, has dog reactivity issues.  The latter had gotten in a dog fight several weeks prior to class, and her husband got bit.  Our assessment was that either something awful and traumatic would happen before immediate action would take place, she was in denial there was a real problem, or possibly her husband did not want to do private training due to time, cost, or only wanting to use a heavy hand so to speak (we run into this frequently)

Now, I'm not just pointing out this specific client, because we run into problem all the time.  In fact, ask any dog trainer, and most will say that a good 75% of their cases are related to fear and aggression.  Many times, people wait until there is a real problem where major damage has been done, instead of looking at all the warning signs that have been shown.  Sometimes, people do not even know what the potential signs are, so it is vital to continue education.

I think this entire thinking is very similar to eating disorders and other illnesses.  We often wait until we have a major break down before getting help.  Whether it is denial, validation purposes, or whatever, we wait.  We wait until it's almost too late, until the problem is acutely, visibly seen, until our bodies and mind begin shutting down from starvation, purging, compulsive exercise, etc.

In other instances, people still have the notion that this is just a phase for the ED sufferer, that the person will just snap out of it, that all they need to do is eat, and all will be better.  Other times, people fear the stigma of having a mental illness or that they don't deserve help.  Meanwhile, no treatment is done at all, therefore, the problem which might have been caught early has now escalated and snowballed into months and years of an eating disorder.  

This is certainly not to say that sometimes efforts are made by both the sufferer and other family members/friends and either treatment is denied/unaffordable or the sufferer refuses, but here, I'm focusing on the whole concept of waiting until things go from just awry to bad to worse to traumatic.

In some ways, it almost seems like human nature. Whether it is a dog's behavior, an ED or another illness, 

having some major trauma, break down episode forces us to see and realize things are not hunky dory.  It's sad that most times this is what it takes to get our attention. Imagine if we all took more of a proactive stance?  With dogs, there would be less dog behavior problems.  With those with EDs, more would get help earlier on and not fall into years and years of misery.

I have to say that with recovery, I've gotten to a point where it is easier for me to be more proactive than I used to be.  Therefore, I have less chance of falling into a deep, dark pit of despair.  It's not easy to change this type of thinking, but in the end, your life may be worth it.

Finally, a few appointments made

I've been in this new area for 9 months now, and in that time, I finally made a few much needed appointments this week. First, I made an appointment with an optometrist. I don't have awful eyesight, but I do wear contacts, and my stash of those had dwindled to just one pair. I think I may have stretched this last pair for a month which isn't the most healthy thing to do.

The appointment went well, the optometrist was super nice. We decided to up my prescription by 0.25 and try a new lens, Biofinity. This lens is actually made to last a month and so far are very comfortable. I hardly notice they are there at all. Once I get these contacts ordered, then that will be it for a year unless I wind up with some major eye problem.

Then today, I saw a new internal medicine doctor. I originally made the appointment a few weeks ago when I was still itching, but the itching has finally ceased other than the mosquito bites I get upon forgetting Off! With the humidity here, the evening time is the absolute worst!

The appointment itself went okay--pretty much just going through paperwork and history. As I filled out the new patient info. prior to my appointment, I debated once again whether to disclose the ED stuff. I decided to wait and form an opinion about the doctor first.

She seemed okay--kind of on the hard side, asking very direct questions quickly. I really went back and forth on the issue of disclosure of the ED. I was not going to unless some problem arose, but literally right as I was leaving, I told her I was in recovery for an ED in a "oh by the way" fashion. She congratulated me, asked a few questions, said if I needed referrals she would be happy to give, and that was that.

Whenever I'm in this situation, I vacillate in telling. Part of me wants to erase the ED history, though it's still not far enough away in the past to delete. Another part of me feels like someone should know in case, well, something goes wrong, or I majorly relapse or something to that effect.

The thing is the ED should be something you can just say as if it was cancer, but there is always some negative connotation for me. I keep wondering if this is something I'll always think about. Will saying I dealt with an eating disorder for many years ever get easier? How far removed do I have to be?

In the end, I guess I'm glad I let her know, but still, it leaves me feeling off.

First exposures

Over the last few weeks, I've been working on a new "puppy prep" powerpoint for one of our seminars. We find that the majority of owners have no clue what puppies involve, so we thought this would be a good educational tool. Our seminars are only 90 min. sessions, and there is a lot of information in each one. It's difficult to cram everything into that time frame, but I do my best to hit the high points and not go into multitudes of detail.

The biggest thing we stress as dog trainers is socializing your puppy. This is essentially getting your puppy used to "first exposures" in everything--humans of all sizes, shapes, and ages, other dogs, other animals, a variety of objects, etc. Because puppies go through several "fear" periods during their life, we want them to have positive associations to these exposures. We find that puppies who have this early socialization grow up to have better manners, have more confidence, and are less likely to be relinquished by their owners (we won't get into the stupid reasons why people decided to surrender their pet. I've heard everything from "the puppy got bigger" to "I had no more room" to "I'm having a baby" to "the dog doesn't match our furniture.")

Okay, that's the prelude to this post which is obviously about first exposures. Recently, on facebook I've added some more old high school acquaintances. I have not kept in touch with these people since then, so naturally (or maybe it's just the curiosity in me), I wonder what has gone on with their lives. Don't we all wonder that to some degree?

Anyway, what surprised me was how many of them either married different races or fell in love with a certain culture. I think I've mentioned it before, but I grew up in a small, fairly conservative, white town in Virginia. At the time, besides black, you really hardly ever saw other races or ethnicities at all. I truly was one of the only other Asian people there with the exception of the family who ran the Chinese restaurant, another student in my school who had some learning development problems, and a little girl a number of years younger than me who was also adopted. Oh yes, and there were some Japanese students at the small, liberal arts, female-only college and a few Asian students at a private school in town. But those were all the Asian people there. I heard that town has developed quite a bit and it's more diverse.

One of my best friend's in high school I learned married a Hispanic man and is now living in Arizona. This was a person whom I never would have imagined dating or marrying out of her race. Not that she wasn't open to it per se, but just that she didn't have much exposure to that particular subgroup of people prior to college (she went to UVA) and moving to the west coast. I'm thankful her family accepted him and she is happy with a young son.

Another person I found out joined the army, went to Iraq, and somewhere in between there visited Thailand and fell in love with that culture. Prior to that, I doubt he had exposure to anything different than the town we grew up in.

Another boy who was a year older than me who had some trouble with drugs and alcohol in school eventually straightened himself out and wound up marrying a Filipino woman. Again, this surprised me, because his family was conservative, highly privileged, etc.

Then, this other boy I knew who was a year younger than me married a Korean woman and recently had his first child. His mother was our high school guidance counselor and was one of the only adminstrators I liked and talk with. In fact, she was one of the first people to recognize how depressed I was, telling me how my personality had changed so significantly. She also was the person who nominated me to go to Girls State too.

What I realized with this is that it is likely these people's first exposure to an Asian person was me. Now, I know this is speculative, but it makes sense too. It sort of makes me smile actually.

The other thing with this is that I'm sure these people did not say "Oh, Tiptoe was my first exposure to Asian people, and she was really nice, and that's why I fell in love with this Asian person," but it was rather a subconscious thing. If you think about it, we have subconscious first exposures all the time.

Like I try to remember my first exposure to eating disorders, and I really can't for the life of me remember. The only thing that sticks out in my head was reading the book Reviving Ophelia by Mary Pipher, (still one of my favorites) and realizing how it was so sad how much pressure adolescent girls had. It was the first book that I truly identified with. I also remember distinctly saying I could never have an ED, because I loved food too much. Well, a year later, there was the ED smack dab in my face. I know I never had any moment of seeing someone else who had an ED (I did in high school not long after me but she was not the catalyst to my ED), seeing an after school special about EDs, seeing a tv movie, reading some magazine article about a diet turned awry, etc. It just kind of happened with a full array of internal and external events pertaining to both me and my family that certainly would be considered catalysts.

So then, this makes me think about what my first exposure to "recovery" was. Again, I'm not so sure, but I do remember a brief period in college where the ED thoughts didn't consume me so much, but then again, maybe I was just too tired to think with being on heavy duty drugs for my liver at the time.

In any case, I think this is an interesting thing to think about. First exposures and first impressions have a great meaning in life, and they can be positive and negative. Sometimes, they are conscious when you directly remember an event, person, or thing, but other times, they are subconscious. I think even with those subconscious ones, you can eventually become aware of them. I think this is one reason why I'm hoping I can somehow take Tovah into the school system one day. She loves children, and children love her. And it makes a vital impression on them, especially at young ages. Plus, it's incredibly rewarding and educational too.

Note: A fun kid's story--Last weekend, all three of my dogs got a chance to meet the neighbor's children. They have seen them outside quite a bit and get excited when they are out. Hank has a tendency to bark due to a fence being there, but it is only because of the fence and not the kids. Anyway, I asked the kids if they wanted to meet the dogs. All their faces lit up, giddy with excitement. I brought each dog out one by one and let the kids give them treats and pet them. Meanwhile, yes, I was also telling them the correct way to pet a dog and what not to do (one tried to hug Daphne which could have been disaster!). Tovah also got a chance to meet her first baby too which she did well with. It was just a great experience for all of them, well, except for one. One of the little boys has severe allergies to dogs. I felt horribly bad for him to have to watch as his siblings and friends got a chance to pet the dogs, but he couldn't.

Girls State

Last weekend, I went to an all day dog seminar. Since it fit in so nicely with what we are doing at the new facility which officially opens June 1st, it would have been a shame to have missed it. It was also not far from me, so it was a win-win situation. I talked my boss into going as well.

We both enjoyed it and got some good suggestions and ideas of how to run our facility. During one of the breaks after lunch (an unplanned pizza moment), a girl sitting in the front row (there were only about 20 people) turns to me and says my name. Then, she asked whether I went to Girls State. Immediately, when she said this, I placed her. I knew she had looked familiar but wasn't sure if I had randomly seen her at another dog conference or what. She told me her name, and then I completely remembered her.

It was one of those "what a small world" moments. We had both attended Girls State in Virginia nearly 14 years ago, now lived in nearby states, and worked with dogs. Well, her day job is working for NASA and dog training is her side job, but still it was very cool to say the least. If you're not familiar with Girls State, it's a week long program for girls who are rising seniors from all over the state. They are placed into different groups and form a mock government as a way to learn the responsibilities of being adult citizens. Each state but Hawaii has one. At my school, two girls (and boys too--there is a Boys State) were nominated to go. Now, I really had no desire about government, but I thought it was such a good honor to go and represent my school there.

Overall, I did have a good experience there, but at times, it was overshadowed by the ED (more on that below). I met some wonderful girls there who had many aspirations. One was determined to be the first woman Navy SEAL. I don't think that one happened due to the SEAL's stringent, traditional policy of remaining all male, however, I wouldn't doubt it if this particular girl wound up going into the Naval Academy. Others dreamed of medical school, law, engineering, and other esteemed professions.

For awhile, many of us kept in touch with senior photos of each other, snail mail and e-mail letters, etc., but like many people that age, we drifted off. There are some I remain wondering what became of their lives as these were all girls with so much potential.

Despite that this was such a great event for me, I think I missed out on a bit of it due to my mental functioning at the time. This event struck at one of the worst times in my life. Several weeks prior to that event, I had cut my wrist out of a fit of anger.. I was seeing a doctor at the time, was honest with him, and said that I didn't feel safe with myself. Little did I know that those words would put me in a locked up adolescent ward for almost a week. (I may have talked about this before in earlier posts but it has been awhile) I really hated that place. The ED was full force there, so all I ate was salad and cereal at night. I was horribly cold, constantly wore sweatshirts, was depressed, and could not stay awake for the life of me during actual therapy sessions. The other things I remember about that experience are an angry, young boy, the sobs of a girl who ran away to be with her boyfriend, a cutter, a boy there for substance abuse, the movie The Color Purple which was constantly played over and over, finding coloring therapeutic, night checks with a light flashed into the room, weighing myself on scales (they didn't know I had an ED until my therapist came to visit me one day and told them, then they kept doing blood pressure readings and threatened me with Ensure during the last few days of my stay), and deciding to run around the gym x number of times partly due to boredom and fear of gaining weight.

I also remember during one my visit with my parents, there was so much tension in the room, it could have easily been cut with a knife. The only thing that broke this tension was that my father brought one of my good friends in to see me. At first, I was horribly ashamed, but also felt really happy that she came to visit. She even brought a teddy bear with her.

So where does this go with Girls State? Basically, I almost didn't go, because I would have been stuck at that locked ward. When I found this out, I sort of whittled my way into getting to go, nodding my head that I had a plan of action if I felt overwhelmed, that I would take my medication, that I would talk to the nurse there if I felt worried, that I'd remain safe, etc. It wasn't pure lying per se, but I knew that place was of little help to me, and the best thing to do would be to get out.

Luckily, I was granted that wish. And as I said before, I did have a good time. But, there were those pesky ED issues. I feared food so much--either that I'd binge or eat nothing at all. I had thoughts of purging constantly but was so afraid of someone finding out (the bathrooms were a suite style). I had an Asian roommate was so incredibly smart, funny, could dance hip hop like you wouldn't believe, and was so tiny. I just felt a constant comparison which I'm sure was all in my head anyway. I worried about not getting any exercise and gaining weight. I realize this is stuff that plagues most ED people, and I'm no different. These issues were severely exacerbated a number of times during big events. I think this particular setting was the first time I was out of my environment and had to try to deal (or not deal) with the ED.

I guess my point here is that I probably could have had an even better experience had I not been so food/body obsessed. I think we can all understand this to a degree--how the ED robs us of a FULL experience of life. I really hadn't thought much about this event or prior to it until I saw this girl at the seminar. It's kind of sad too that that is what pops up into my mind rather than what Girls State was all about.

I doubt that the girl even knew I really had an issue, but I could be wrong. Often times, when we think we're being secretive and hiding things well, it's just the opposite. In any case, I'm going to try to keep in touch with this girl who lives a few hours away from me. It's hard to find people my age in the dog training industry as so many of them are older and have dog training as a side business or as a second career, so it's good to snag them while I can. ;-)

Did anyone else go to Girls State and what were your experiences there?

Shopping is a lost cause

Well, it's now inevitable. I must buy khaki pants for work very soon. All the red tape that needed to be done has been finalized, so now we are good to go. This would be even greater news if I did not have to buy khaki pants. My boss has decided we are wearing khaki pants and beige color shirts with our logo to look "professional." I agree, it does look more professional than jeans. Normally, khaki is a universal color that goes with anything except that our beige shirts resemble closer to the khaki color, so there is hardly any contrast.

This post isn't really about the khaki pants. It's more about the fact that I have to go shopping now, and like many of us who have been through this peril, I am dreading it. It would be one thing to find one pair of khaki pants, but I have to find multiple ones to wear every day of the week. I guess the plus is that I won't be having to do as much laundry. :grin:

This shopping trip is compounded by the fact that I'm just having some major body image blues. Now, I know that in recovery, body change is inevitable. For a lot of us, it is is one of the hardest issues to deal with. I've always felt a bit out of place with this, because I never really had to go through a huge weight restoration process like many people I know. Instead, my weight has fluctuated a bit--enough to be noticeable but not drastic. Therefore, any body change I've had has been very subtle. And this is the issue lately.

I remember a video awhile back that Jenni Schaeffer did titled "My thighs touch" In it, she said how she actually liked that her thighs touched.--that it represented being healthy, recovered, and free of her ED. At the time, I thought this was great. But then, that happened to me, and I no longer had that gusto feeling of "recovery" and being happy with my body. Instead, I've felt terribly uncomfortable about it and just the thought of shopping gives me shivers.

I know I'm probably making a bigger deal out of this than it is. And although I've never cried during a shopping visit, I'm afraid this may be my first. I should also note that I always have a difficult time finding clothes anyway. With pants, if the waist fits, the legs are too tight, and the pants are too long. If the waist doesn't fit, the legs fit comfortably, but the pants are too long. Invariably, when I go shopping, I wind up trying on many clothes. Also, with khakis, I am horribly picky. Besides the fit, it must look "right" with pockets in the back, no side pockets unless laid correctly, flattering on the stomach/hip area, no pouchiness anywhere. If you think this is bad, just imagine jeans shopping with me. Who on earth would even want to clothes shop with me with all these stipulations on clothing? By the end of these fiascoes, I normally walk away with nothing and feel unsatisfied that nothing looked right. Or better yet that my body hated me enough to not fit into anything properly.

I know I have several weeks until I will need the khaki pants. On one hand, I don't want to procrastinate the shopping trip,but on the other hand, I'm suddenly afraid my thighs will suddenly turn into a massive thunder thigh look if I wait too long. :sigh: I feel like I don't win either way.

Oh wait minute, aren't I supposed to be working on that self acceptance concept? Oh right, that thing.

"Someday Melissa"

I posted this on twitter today and was deeply moved by this story, a mother's loss, a daughter's story. If you haven't read it, please take the time to do so. Any eating disorder death is heart wrenching and is a reminder of the stark reality that we can all die from this illness.

In this story, Judy Arvin, the mother of Melissa, who died at age 19 from bulimia, decided to make a documentary about her daughter's life and ultimately her death from bulimia. She felt it was a way to both help her grieve over the loss of her only daughter and to educate others about this illness.

I think one of the powers that can be raised in this film is the commonality of how the eating disorder unraveled. When there were signs that something was wrong, Melissa was taken to a pediatric gastroenterologist (she was having constipation and stomach problems) who diagnosed her with an eating disorder. The Arvins dismissed this doctor's diagnosis and never went back, partly out of denial and simply because Melissa was not visibly underweight, despite the fact her mood drastically changed.

Eventually Melissa did receive help (against her will at first) and became a revolving door in treatment centers. By this time, her family began to understand the extent of her illness, but after five years, it would be too late for Melissa who died of a heart attack, complicated by her bulimia.

The film, titled "Someday Melissa," taken from journal entries of Melissa, is slated to be finished in June with hopeful theatrical distribution.

One of Melissa's entries that became paramount for this film was:

Someday ...

I’ll eat breakfast.

I’ll keep a job for more than 3 weeks.

I’ll have a boyfriend for more than 10 days.

I’ll love someone.

I’ll travel wherever I want.

I’ll make my family proud.

I’ll make a movie that changes lives.

I'm hopeful that last wish will come true for Melissa.

"Blips"

My parents are visiting this weekend. So far, it has gone well. It's the first time in a long time I have not felt an overwhelming anxiety upon their visit. Perhaps, it is because it is a "working" visit with getting stuff done around the house? In any case, it is nice to not feel so anxious about it. I think a lot of this also has to do with the fact that my parents no longer hate where I am living, my job, my boss, etc.

But still as thoughts like this change, there are other things that do not.

At at Thai restaurant we went to last night, we were talking about people who had cancer (my mom had breast cancer back in my teens, my father has had colon cancer and melanoma twice). My father made the comment,

"I made a deal with God that as long as my family stayed healthy and okay, he could do whatever he wanted to me. And so far, this has been the case. Tiptoe here is healthy, except for that small health scare."

And it is that last part that always gets to me. That time period he is referring to are my ED-filled years where it was so blatant, out there. It was noticeable then. It affected everyone then. It made my parents fearful that they might lose me if I continued to go down the path I was.

So luckily, this didn't happen, right? True, yes. But at the same time, my parents, well at least my father, view this simply as a "blip" in my life. A blip to me seems like something that is short, brief, hardly noticeable, NOT something that lasts 12 years.

There is a small part of me that holds some resentment, like how could they view this part of my life that way? I guess it is easier for the participant versus the observer to feel this way. Although there isn't a flat out denial that the ED existed, viewing it as a blip doesn't seem right or fair to me. How can someone feel this way when something like this consumed your life for so long?

But maybe in a way, a blip is better? Maybe, it's a way to be able to move on for some. For me, even if it is a"blip," it is not something I can ever forget. Perhaps, it's too soon to feel something like this or maybe later in recovery, my feelings will change?

For those in recovery, how do you view your ED? Does it feel like a distant part of your life? Does it feel like a "blip?"

Stress Awareness Month

It seems there is an awareness month for just about every single thing. March was apparently Caffeine Awareness month, Nutrition, Frozen Food, Peanut, Gender Equality, On-Hold (whatever that means), and Social Work month just to name a few. May hold its fair share with Barbecue, Salad, Salsa, Egg, Mental Health, Meditation, and Physical Fitness and Sports month.

Every month has a wide array of causes. Some are more prominent while others are a bit obscure but all want to bring awareness to an issue or celebrate for a cause. One for April is Stress Awareness Month with April 16 being Stress Awareness Day in conjunction with the stress of taxes. Here is a list of other awareness months.

I bring up stress, because it's something we all deal with. There is no real "immunity" for stress other than to take care of ourselves. I noticed the last few days at work, I was becoming very stressed with determining a schedule, getting PowerPoints done, the opening of the building, my boss not thinking I was doing everything "right," etc.I was becoming increasingly agitated, defensive, and upset by all this. I had brief thoughts of just wanting to shut down, deprive myself, exercise compulsively, all those lovely de-coping ED skills. This was a reminder and a hint I really needed to take care of myself, do things that were going to allow me to feel satisfied, to take a breath before things got out of hand. In the end, stress + prolonged time = exacerbated ED/lapse/relapse.

I think this is just another step in recovery. It's not always easy to recognize how stress is affecting us until we get to the point of no oblivion, but if we can see it before it is too late, we can take actions to thwart ourselves into a self-destructive state.

How do you combat stress? When do you know it has become a problematic?

On a side note, the word stress originally comes from the Latin word stringere meaning "to draw tight." The term stress was first coined in the 1930s by endocrinologist Hans Selye who also came up with "eustress" or good stress as opposed to distress. Selye came up with a biopsychsocial concept of stress and adaption which took awhile for academic psychologists to take seriously and research further. By the 1990s, "stress" became more understood as a physiological and psychological functioning.

Note--*Stress by numbers here and here.
Argentinian study on stress and eating disorders (full text available in Spanish)
A few other studies of stress and eating disorders here and here

Bullying

I'm going to go a little off topic on here and discuss bullying. It seems like it is everywhere in the news, and it is a growing problem within schools. Yesterday, on NPR's Talk of the Nation, there was an interesting segment on "former bullies share what motivated their behavior". The show began with talking briefly about several children who committed suicide due to bullying. (One family is suing the school where one of the children was) The show asked for callers from people who were bullies or had been a bully in the past. Now, I was thinking who in the heck is actually going to call in and say they are a bully. Surprisingly, people did. Most were reformed bullies and really didn't understood why they bullied but felt remorse. A few had also apologized to the individuals they bullied. The interesting thing is that some of these bullies were good friends with the kids they bullied, and then suddenly flipped a switch. One became a bully after becoming popular, another realized she herself was bullied and then became a bully.

One caller both intrigued and upset me due to her incredible defensiveness. You can read the transcript and listen to the segment at the link above. (it's too long to post here) Although this woman was being honest about herself, she said how she could not control her bully tactics, despite trying. She said she didn't like being this person but just wasn't able to change. The kicker to all this is that this woman is a psychologist! We don't know the capacity of her work, but if I were her client and heard about this, I'd raise an eyebrow or two. I know I'm not conveying this very well, but it was an interesting show. I think many of us ask that question of "why do people bully?" There's such a myriad of reasons--some make sense while others do not at all.

Awhile back, I was listening to the Diane Rehm show interviewing Jodee Blanco, author of Please Stop Laughing at Me and Please Stop Laughing at Us a few months ago. I haven't read these books, but they sound very helpful to people who may have been bullied and how parents can help their children who are bullied. There was a quote that Jodee said that really stood out to me:

"Bullying isn't just the mean things you do but it's all the nice things you don't do."

It reminded me of watching all the subtle bullying that went on growing up. People viewed it as just teasing, joking around, but really was it? It's not just the overt beating up of kids (which rarely happened at my school), name calling, but other things like not letting certain people sit at lunch with you, always choosing the same person last for a team, following someone, starting rumors about people, and the list goes on. It just makes me really sad how cruel children can be. Some seriously do not know the difference, but many times they do, and they do it anyway. Some people get past the residual feelings of being bullied, but others do not. And it leads to PTSD, depression, and other mental illnesses.

I've always considered myself a bit of a sensitive person and having a great sense of right and wrong from an early age. Whether it was because I was "different" from where I lived--very few Asian lived there or had a physical deformity, I understood being "different" and how each of us were unique individuals. I could grasp the idea of not everything you saw externally was truly was what was internally. When I could, I did try to stand up for those people who were bullied or who didn't have many friends and felt saddened for those I could not.

I don't know the answer to solving bullying, but certainly, I think there could be something like "compassion" classes taught in schools. I think there are some children who are inherently compassionate, but there are others who have to be taught what compassion is. It just seems like it is happening more, and in the age of technology with facebook and texting, bullying has become more subtle, deceptive, and secretive. No child should have to feel this way or be tormented because of appearance or for just being different. Because in the end, sticks and stones may never hurt me, but yes, words can indeed hurt. And examples are seen of this by children who have committed suicide or have turned to violence as the answer.

In relating this all to eating disorders, I am curious were there people you knew who were once overweight, lost weight, and then bullied other overweight people or vice versa? I've found much of the opposite to be true--that those who have had weight/eating problems were more perceptive of those who never had. And I've also wondered whether there was a real difference between those may have had disordered eating versus a clinical eating disorder and whether bullying was ever a factor.

Anyway, this is just a topic that has been on my mind lately.

How deception affects us

On Mondays, usually I try to catch the show House. Some days I watch fully engaged while other times I'm multi-tasking with dinner and being online. Tonight was the latter, but I managed to get the gist of the episode about a woman who became ill (not sure why she came to the hospital initially) and was a blogger. Apparently, she blogged about everything in her life, and at one point, there was an argument between she and her boyfriend? (maybe husband?) about blogging every nuance of her life. He didn't want her to blog about what was going on in the hospital or what she might possibly have (he felt like her blogging had become a form of entertainment only for an audience), but she differed, feeling like she needed to let her readers know.

Fast forward to the end. The girl was no longer dying of lymphoma like everyone thought, but rather House found clues through her blog about her symptoms. Then, he promptly asked her about what kind of bowel movements she had. A bit mortified and puzzled why he was asking her this, she answered. House explained the diagnosis--the catalyst was switching to a vegan diet which caused gastrointestinal problems which just snowballed from there. Then, he asked her why she held this important information from them and her blog readers. Of course, the girl's answer to that was who wanted to read about her feces? Lastly, House said this (this is not completely verbatim but close) right before he walked out:

"It's okay to have secrets as long as they are not going to hurt you. They are what keep us warm and fuzzy."

So this brings me to my latest adventure. Over the course of the last few weeks, I had to be a bit of a "spy" at work. I had to visit some other nearby dog facilities to get an idea of how they were run, what they featured, how filled to capacity they were, and most importantly how our facility would be different. Though we had already done a CMA (comparison market analysis) and knew information from my boss's clients, you never get the full picture unless visibly touring the facilities.

After visiting the first facility, I had this horrible sense of guilt. I felt awful that I was disguising myself the way I was, because the girl giving me the tour seemed so nice. It was obvious she thought I seemed like a very thorough, concerned owner, and she mentioned that I was her longest tour. When I got back to the office, I really wondered whether I could tour another facility. It took me a full week to mull this over.

After thinking it over, I decided to go visit the other two facilities. This time around, I found it much easier. It was as if I convinced myself that this wasn't a bad thing. I felt like a sly, smooth pretender. There was no longer an unsettled feeling but rather a settled comfort. I was surprised at how easy it was for me to be "deceptive" the second and third times around. It was almost like everything I said rolled off my tongue, and I became the role I was playing so well. A true actress, indeed.

This whole experience reminded me of my early ED days. Despite treating my parents like sh$t, I still felt horribly guilty for lying to them about my behaviors, whether I ate or not, whether I was manically exercising or not, etc. I think there was an instance or two where my dad asked about purging, and I vehemently denied it. What happened as a result of this? I convinced myself that I had to lie, that the deception would only hurt them more than me, that I needed to be even more secretive--a better actress.

Clearly, the problem with this logic or lack there of it was that by continuously lying, I just furthered myself into more self-destructive ED'd behaviors. The deception hurt me worse than anyone else.

Obviously, there are differences between these two lies. In the first scenario, I was not hurting anyone nor myself, whereas, in the second one, there was a lot of damage done.

I don't have any enlightening comments but that it is important to realize how deceiving ourselves can hurt us. Whether it is that we will be happier at X pounds, that we really don't need nourishment of any kind, that just "getting by" is okay, that starvation and overexercise is an okay way to quell our anxieties and stress (in a sense neurochemically, yes, but in the long run, not), that an ED will not kill us, think again. It is often difficult when your head is just full of ED mess, but I think it's the little things that count. That by every lie we are able to thwart aside, that it is a step toward eventual healing.

Note: *My acting was not completely intentional--that I thought about everything I did and the outcomes. Rather, it just seemed "normal" to me, a way of survival. Much of this is a hindsight type thinking.