Monday, January 21, 2008

I love Evangeline Lilly. I read a poll in my latest Glamour magazine. Men were given a choice of whose body shape is the most appealing. Here's how it turned out:
4% other
4% Venus Williams' uber-athlete body
22% Sara Ramirez's curves
24% Kate Bosworth's gamine figure
46% Evangeline Lilly's equal sexiness in formal gowns or muscle tees

Now let's do the googling and find out the REAL statistics:
Venus Williams - Height: 6'1 1/2" Weight: 169 lbs BMI: 22.0
Sara Ramirez - won't even list her BMI, but she wears size 14
Kate Bosworth - Height: 5'7" Weight: 105 lbs BMI: 16.4
Evangeline Lilly - Height: 5'5" Weight: 121 lbs BMI: 20.1

C'mon people. Do the math. Skinny wins every time. Thinner is the winner!
I've been visiting my parents lately, and it's easy to see why I got so sick after visiting them last year. The two of them have a really good talent for making anyone feel like a total sack of shit.

My father is the worst. He watches all kinds of trash tv, and feels compelled, whenever he sees a girl who is only moderately attractive instead of Hollywood attractive, to yell at the screen, "She looks like a man!" He does it with a sneer of, "Thank God I'm perfect!"

He loves to throw that same sneer at me across the table. If we order out at a restaurant, no matter WHAT I order, he makes that little sound of disapproval and then subtly shakes his head and pretends to stare back at his menu. If I've ordered something heavy, it's "do you know how many calories that is?" And if I've ordered something light it's, "you're gonna make yourself sick like that." I can't win.

And no matter how thin mom gets, she's never thin enough. "Oh, I'm so fat." Even though she's considerably thinner and definitely more fit than me. She exercises like crazy. She loves to use so much work as an excuse to skip meals.

Yesterday I did a little shopping before I stopped over to the house, and when they saw my bags they were perky. "Ooh! Show us what you got!!" For a moment I was proud, ready to parade my shopping savvy because I'd gotten a $50 dress for $17. But when I pulled it out to show them, Dad said, "Psh. That's a pretty wild print. S'gonna make your hips look huge." and Mom said, "Oh, it's not that bad. I'd wear it." So I suggested she should try it on. And she says in that mockingly patronizing tone, "Oh I couldn't possibly fit into it. My waist isn't near as small as yours," knowing damn-well it's a lie.

Just fuck me sideways.

So I went out last night with a friend for sushi. Bless his heart, he tries to feed me as often as he can. And I actually feel comfortable with him, like he's doing it because he cares about me not because he's trying to make me gain weight. And he matches me bite for bite, so there can be no guilt in either direction.

But when I saw dad this morning, sure enough he gripes, "Do you know how many grams of fat are in that sushi? Those cuts of fish are pretty oily!"

You weren't even fucking THERE, Dad!!!

Of course I kept a mental tally. I told him I didn't eat more than 500 calories worth of sushi last night, which is rounded up. "Well," he protests, "that's definitely better for you than the 375-calorie burger I had."

Yeah. What he doesn't tell you is that he ate that 380-burger (I looked it up) with a 400-calorie small fries and a 400-calorie bowl of chili. Not to mention the large Vault drink, which brings his meal to well over 1000 calories!

Fuck you, Dad!


So you can see how visiting my parents is not the best thing for my eating disorder.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

What have I done? What do I do?

I haven't blogged in about two-and-a-half months. I have been "getting well." I have been "eating normally." I have realigned my walk with God. I have gone through entire days where no one asks me, "Have you eaten today?"

And I have gained 25 pounds in 5 months. I have lost my best friend. I can't stand the way my clothes fit. I hate what I see in the mirror.

So which side is winning? Am I healthy? Or am I fat? And where do I go from here?


Soon after moving into my new apartment, I started working at Starbucks. In the same instant, my career took off again, so between the two jobs I did not have even a single day off for almost eight solid weeks. Most days, I barely had time to shower and sleep, so when my gym membership expired practically untouched, I decided to let it run out instead of renewing.

In mid-December, I came home to be with my family for the holidays. In the six weeks I have been here, I have put on eight pounds. In an attempt to "eat normally" in front of my family, I have actually gone overboard and I'm about to bust into the next size of clothes.

I want it to stop. Every morning I step on the scale hoping, praying to God that I will be lighter today than I was yesterday. Some days I get it, some days not. And now I am teetering at a whopping 150 pounds.

Six months ago, I promised myself I'd be 100 or less by now. What have I done?

More importantly, what do I do now? In a few weeks, I will return to New York to resume my post-holiday career. I would love to quit Starbucks and get back into the gym. My ass feels so fucking lazy it's despicable.

But I want to keep the earnest relationship I've developed with the Lord, and I know He will never condone my anorexic behavior. In fact, I can't even call myself anorexic anymore, not at this weight. This yo-yo effect is more typical of an Ed-Nos diagnosis.

A few months ago, just before I left New York, my best friend and I got into a serious fight. We went out "to eat" and I barely picked at my salad and she ordered a burger. When the orders came, she demanded to know why I "wasn't eating." To my defense, I WAS eating, but I told her that my stomach was upset and I didn't feel like eating much. In her fashion of dramatic protest, she pushed her untouched burger aside and refused to eat another bite. To her, it was her way of getting my attention and letting me know she disapproved of my decision. To me, it seemed more like a challenge of "I can eat less than you."

But the fight didn't end there. After dinner, she made three long trips to the bathroom in quick succession, continuing to ream me any time she came back to the table. When I accusingly asked what the hell she was spending so much time in the bathroom for, she couldn't take it. She may have been throwing up, but I never ate in the first place. I had won, we both knew it, and she wasn't losing very gracefully. And so she walked out, slamming the door behind her, and we have hardly spoken since.

Is this worth it? Now I sit here fat but "healthy." I have gained the compassion of my family, and lost the relationship with my best friend. I knowing eating is the "right thing" to do, but I hate what it's done to my body.

Do I return to anorexia and fasting? Or should I learn to be happy with my plus-figure? Is there another way that leads to weight loss while still eating healthy? My "healed" mind reels at the possibilities. The voice of Ana, never leaving my head, whispers seductively, "Let's go back. Let's do it again. You looked so damn hot at 125, and this time we'll go even lower!" Damn, that voice is sexy. So fucking tempting.

But the voice of my Father cries out, "No! I love you as you are! I created you to be this way, and I wish you could see yourself with all the love I hold for you." I feel pitiful, and unworthy of such grace.

Clearly, I cannot be classified as "recovered." Only fatter than I was when I was so obviously sick.

What have I done to myself? Am I ok? Where do I go from here?