TMI: or my brain on ipecac
I have an onslaught of self reflection in others around me right now. It is making me look into how I have changed since I was a teen, or even a 20-something.
I am reading Red: Teenage girls in America write on what fires up their lives today. There are many amazing stories in this book, some related to body issues, some to family, school, life, etc. I am only about halfway through, but what really strikes me is that none of these stories say "poor me." Some are happy and some are sad, others are about outright amazing situations, but they all look at a time in a girl's life when she had a transition, or overcame a trial, or had an issue that she is still struggling with. It is inspirational to read these stories, even though you don't necessarily know how they turned out.
Someone close to me has a private journal about her struggle with an eating disorder. I find myself recognizing many of her feelings, even those of restricting food and ideas of worthiness. When I was younger, I used to lament my inability to follow the regimine I would try to set myself for food and exercise. I judged myself for eating "too much," for not being "thin." I judged myself for a lot of other things as well, but I always had this idea that if only I could fix that one thing about myself, everything else would fall into place. I am not trying to belittle my friends current experience by relating it to mine. She has her own situation, her own demons to fight. It is a serious struggle for her. I was lucky I was unable to follow the same path. I just didn't know it then. And yes, I know I am not fat (although part of my brain wants to qualify that statement. Down fido!)
I also recognize some of her feelings about family members. Not being sure who loved me, or what my relationship was with my Father, my Mother, my Grandparents. I would decide I didn't care and lock certain people out of my life--probably unknown to them. Some off hand comment would hurt me and I would retreat, withdraw my affection, my attention, my admiration. I have grown up now, and one of the most important thing my therapist taught me was to forgive, even if there wasn't anything to really forgive, you had to let bad feelings go because they cloud up your present and prevent you from being happy. I feel confident in my relationships with my family these days and there is only one person that I haven't been able to forgive. I hope to someday, it is a thorn in my side and a blight on holidays.
As a teen, I struggled with being left out. When I wasn't left out, I was teased. I had some good friends, but I also had some friends who were not good. The second ones fueled my low self esteem, made their friendship contingent on what I could give them, or how I made them look. If I was suddenly noticed by the popular crowd for a dose of meanness, these friends would desert me until the coast was clear. I was awkward, and I am not sure if I started out that way, or became that way after moving to my new school and becoming an outcast. Pictures of me from that time prove that I had a cute face, unruly hair, clothes that didn't fit and a bad fashion sense.
I just saw 3 runners, looking healthy and hale, come in on their run to all the library branches today. You can follow their trail here: http://www.twitter.com/seesamrun. I wonder, what is the difference between an eating disorder and being a ultramarathon runner? They must have rules for eating and exercising, and to many of the rest of us, it must seem like a strange set of rules, a strange way of life. Is it more acceptable because they accomplish something? Just questions running through my mind. I think these athletes are amazing and doing great things.
Lunch is about over, and I have to get to my Instruction Committee Meeting. Ciao!
I am reading Red: Teenage girls in America write on what fires up their lives today. There are many amazing stories in this book, some related to body issues, some to family, school, life, etc. I am only about halfway through, but what really strikes me is that none of these stories say "poor me." Some are happy and some are sad, others are about outright amazing situations, but they all look at a time in a girl's life when she had a transition, or overcame a trial, or had an issue that she is still struggling with. It is inspirational to read these stories, even though you don't necessarily know how they turned out.
Someone close to me has a private journal about her struggle with an eating disorder. I find myself recognizing many of her feelings, even those of restricting food and ideas of worthiness. When I was younger, I used to lament my inability to follow the regimine I would try to set myself for food and exercise. I judged myself for eating "too much," for not being "thin." I judged myself for a lot of other things as well, but I always had this idea that if only I could fix that one thing about myself, everything else would fall into place. I am not trying to belittle my friends current experience by relating it to mine. She has her own situation, her own demons to fight. It is a serious struggle for her. I was lucky I was unable to follow the same path. I just didn't know it then. And yes, I know I am not fat (although part of my brain wants to qualify that statement. Down fido!)
I also recognize some of her feelings about family members. Not being sure who loved me, or what my relationship was with my Father, my Mother, my Grandparents. I would decide I didn't care and lock certain people out of my life--probably unknown to them. Some off hand comment would hurt me and I would retreat, withdraw my affection, my attention, my admiration. I have grown up now, and one of the most important thing my therapist taught me was to forgive, even if there wasn't anything to really forgive, you had to let bad feelings go because they cloud up your present and prevent you from being happy. I feel confident in my relationships with my family these days and there is only one person that I haven't been able to forgive. I hope to someday, it is a thorn in my side and a blight on holidays.
As a teen, I struggled with being left out. When I wasn't left out, I was teased. I had some good friends, but I also had some friends who were not good. The second ones fueled my low self esteem, made their friendship contingent on what I could give them, or how I made them look. If I was suddenly noticed by the popular crowd for a dose of meanness, these friends would desert me until the coast was clear. I was awkward, and I am not sure if I started out that way, or became that way after moving to my new school and becoming an outcast. Pictures of me from that time prove that I had a cute face, unruly hair, clothes that didn't fit and a bad fashion sense.
I just saw 3 runners, looking healthy and hale, come in on their run to all the library branches today. You can follow their trail here: http://www.twitter.com/seesamrun. I wonder, what is the difference between an eating disorder and being a ultramarathon runner? They must have rules for eating and exercising, and to many of the rest of us, it must seem like a strange set of rules, a strange way of life. Is it more acceptable because they accomplish something? Just questions running through my mind. I think these athletes are amazing and doing great things.
Lunch is about over, and I have to get to my Instruction Committee Meeting. Ciao!
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12:21 AM
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