Monday, July 1, 2013
Over the past five days, I've had 44 oz of raw vegetable juice, and about 450 oz of water. And nothing else. And I feel fucking amazing! The human mind is a fascinating piece of machinery when you control it instead of letting it control you.
For whatever reason, my energy is through the effing roof. I'm semi-maniacal. My trainer suggests I am most likely in ketosis, where all the glycogen stores in my muscles have been expended, and the brain is now feeding off ketones produced by the processes responsible for burning fat into energy. It rocks.
As usual, the first three days sucked pretty hard. But I still pressed though my workouts, and work was a busy atmosphere, full of distraction. So that was phenomenally helpful.
But today was the best so far! I just about bounced, Tigger-style, into my trainer's gym and soared through the paces. Then I drove back to my home gym and cranked out another 20-minute Tabata cycle on the elliptical. I got home, cooled off a bit, but my heart was still racing! It was like a frantic nervous energy was pulsing through my veins, so I strapped on my running shoes and ran every bit of 3 miles! Each drop of sweat felt like fat melting away and oozing out of my pores.
No doubt I've experienced ketosis before, but I never recall it having felt like this, and I'm a little nervous about how long this euphoria will last. Or if I'm actually losing all the fat that I think I am. My body's so fucked up after so many years of abuse -- who knows. But I'm hoping to ride this out for a while if I can. Feels so good, weight loss would just be icing. Pun, deliciously intended. ;)
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Recovery tells me that not eating is the pursuit of death. Ana tells me that not eating is the pursuit of happiness. Now my personal trainer tells me NOT to eat for the next 2 weeks. So either my trainer is a total nut job, or all those dimwits at the clinic lied to me.
I'll let them duke it out while I sit over here and starve. And grin.
Who's with me? Two solid weeks of no food! Only juice, water, and vitamins (if you can stomach them). Let's go, darlings!
A toast to being lighter on July 9th than we are today! Starve on!
Friday, June 21, 2013
In that same vein, here is an excerpt from one of my favorite (i.e. trigger) sources, someone who "gets me": Wasted by Marya Hornbacher.
Too often the shrinks assume an eating disorder is a way of avoiding womanhood, sexuality, responsibility, by arresting your physical growth at a prepubescent state. But more recently, some insightful people have noticed that some of us may be after something quite different, like breathing room, or, crazy as it sounds, less attention, or a different kind of attention. Something like power. An eating disorder appears to be a perfect response to a lack of autonomy. By controlling the amount of food that goes into and out of you, you imagine that you are controlling the extent to which other people can access your brain, your heart.
The shrinks have been paying way too much attention to the end result of eating disorders -- that is, they look at you when you've become utterly powerless, delusional, the center of attention, regressed to a passive, infantile state -- and they treat you as a passive, infantile creature, thus defeating their own purpose. This end result is not your intention at the outset. You intention was to become superhuman, skin thick as steel, unflinching in the face of adversity, out of the grasping reach of others. "Anorexia develops when a bid for independence on the part of the child has failed." It is not a scramble to get back into the nest. It's a flying leap out.
And no, it doesn't work. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
- “Are you losing more weight?” What did she mean by ‘more’? Have people noticed and not said anything?
- “Are you still doing this juicing thing? Are you just gonna keep it up until you disappear?” Believe it or not, this friend knows nothing of my ED history.
- (After she’d had a steak sub dinner and I’d had 16 oz of juice, I was bellyaching about how full I was and she said her stomach was still grumbling…) “Look at us! You’re gonna be so skinny and I’m gonna be the fat one!” “gonna be skinny” means I’m not there yet, and “the fat one” means that I haven’t been considered the skinniest of all us heretofore. This is unacceptable and must change!
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
I can't believe it's been/only been 18 months since I was last on this page. I can't believe I have another 1300 comments to filter through. Most of all, I can't believe this blog is still getting 200 hits a day. You peeps are absolutely amazing. Rock on wit yo thin selves.
So, I only got through about five comments when I noticed the overwhelming demand for an update, so here it is. I'm still "in recovery." The further and further I get from my last time "in" (4 years) the fewer and fewer people around me in my life know about it and bug me about it. The production company that sets the "lose weight" command in motion one month prior to shoots raved over my looks that time, and has shot me three more times since, making the same demand each time. Sometimes I've obeyed, sometimes not. Either way, they don't complain, so I take that as a good sign.
I've hired a new personal trainer a little over a month and a half ago. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer (I am learning with time), but he's gotten great results out of a few friends of mine. And since looks are more important than health in this business, that makes him the go-to guy. I told him in our Day 1 interview about my ED history, among other things, and he sort of glossed over it. To me, this can only mean one thing, and I shudder to admit it -- I probably don't LOOK like I've ever suffered from an eating disorder anymore.
Case in point, the first thing he did was to put me on a "juice feast" for the first 30 days. Go out and buy a Jack LaLanne power juicer and a buttload of fruits and veggies, and consume nothing but that for 30 straight days. As much as you want! But nothing solid, and nothing added (no protein powders, no honey, sugar, etc.). I was over-the-moon to get this sort of 'unlimited super-restriction'. I practically floated out of the gym that morning. Come to find out later, he didn't expect such an enthusiastic reaction to such a strict regimen, and took it as, "She's gotta be faking that kind of excitement. I'll never see her again." His face was equally shocked 27 days later when I weighed in almost 16 lbs lighter. He still can't believe I stuck to it so strictly. Clearly, he's never worked with a disordered eater before. The strictest of rituals are our most deliciously addictive.
In the 20 days since then, he's added solid food back into my daily diet - a salad with lean protein for lunch, and a small handful of raw, unsalted almonds for dinner, along with continuing to juice. I haven't been weighed again yet, and the dysmorphia lies to me about my reflection. So... we'll see.
In the meantime, the eating has REALLY gotten me depressed, and the not-knowing if I'm losing weight or gaining weight. In 7 weeks, not ONE person in my life has said those all-important words: "Have you lost weight?" Although to be fair, I am still wearing my winter clothes in this ridiculously long winter/spring weather. And while *I* can tell they're barely hanging onto my hips, I am still waiting for someone else to confirm it. I NEED to hear that question more than I need air.
And in the past day-and-a-half, out of complete boredom, I have launched back into a re-read of Marya's book, "Wasted," and watching really bad Lifetime movies about disordered eaters on youtube. So much schlock in those movies. Really, truly bad. I spend a bit of time laughing at the stupidity of their "experts" and a little bit more time screaming at the antagonists not to feed her! or treat her like an embicile! Ugh. I digress...
So that's the update. Yes, I'm alive. Probably don't look like I've ever had an ED. Must be fat. But clearly, all those feelings -- that beautiful, sweet voice called "Ana" -- is still there, a sleeping beauty just waiting to be roused... if I dare.
Now, I'm gonna go filter through some of these comments. I love you, my readers, my Ana's and Mia's and Ednos'. Truly. Thank you for standing by me for all these years. <3 Starve on. <3