I can't remember exactly when it happened but at some point I became fascinated by cooking and food. My memories are full of cooking with my family. Little flashes come to mind of covering my mom's left over pie dough in cinnamon and sugar and creating my own special masterpieces. We made dinner almost every night and I helped Mom make the weekly menus. I loved eating, that evolved into a love for cooking, and eventually I was overwhelmed by this passion. This passion helped me find balance in my life and invigorated me. But something happened. Something shifted. Food became an obsession and not a healthy one. Food became an enemy. It is a little confusing because I never lost my love for cooking and sharing food with others but I stopped eating it. I would pour over food magazines and blogs and imagine all of the food I could cook. I would obsess over restaurant menus and make "safe" plans before I would agree to go. I would make elaborate dishes and refused to eat them myself. There was something about that act that made me feel like I was in control of my chaos. My life was changing. Graduation was approaching and my husband and I were moving to NYC...jobless...just on an unpredictable adventure. My career in a Theatre was weighing heavily on me and I felt a need to create a self that was "marketable". I was suddenly fixated on what I put in my body and the joy of eating disappeared...I became an obsessive exerciser. This took control and left me with feelings of extreme shame if I EVER missed a workout. As a result, I missed so much life. Time. rest.
Restriction became my new hobby and I was really good at it. I was able to create a set of rules to live by and if something came my way that was not part of those rules, I said no. If I had a moment of weakness and indulged I would punish myself for days. I would say to myself how weak I was for letting go and giving in and it made me feel so small. Along with the loss of my love of food, I lost a lot of basic functions within my body. No need to go into crazy detail here but the damage was starting to become a long-term problem. It scared me but not enough to change. Plus, the world around me told me I was "good" and "healthy". The positive feedback affirmed my choice to restrict and over-exercise. This is what make me good....tied up in my self worth.
I would go back and forth with myself. I would tell myself that they way I was thinking and what I was doing was absolutely insane and that my size or appearance didn't "make" me. I wasn't going to lose the people in my life because of my weight. I knew that. I know that. But this thing in my brain is strong and it has sneaky ways of overpowering what I know to be true. There is an ongoing battle in my head that creates this dense fog in my brain.
Recently all of this back and forth and struggle and restriction and obsession hit me with the force of a speeding truck. I pair my unhealthy restriction with food with an addiction to exercise. I have been told over and over that my bones could be weak and this could create osteoporosis and I heard all of this but I didn't HEAR it. But my body SCREAMED it at my this past winter. I was hobbling along on crutches due to a fractured pelvis. My bone density was at a extremely low level and this led to my pelvis cracking while I was running. It just happened because I couldn't take a break and take care of myself? Because losing a day made me a weak person? Because The loss of that control left me crippled with fear? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. A fractured pelvis because I have weak bones. A fractured pelvis....I still can't believe it. The guilt I felt was immense and heavy. It affected my mood, my impulses, my everyday. My relationships. And now I have come to this point where I can no longer hide this issue. I am too tired of it to mask it and too sick of it to stay silent. I have smiled, lied, hid, faked it...But I can't anymore.
So here I am now. Faced with this reality. I miss my old self and my old love for the thing that no one should ever fear because it is the thing that keeps us alive. Food. I want to restore my relationship with this thing and in the process restore the relationship with myself. I want to restore my bodies normal functions and feel whole. I want to have a family. I want to stop hiding from situations, allow myself to be present, and free my brain from this heavy dark cloud that covers so much. I want to restore relationships with my family. I WANT so much of this and yet taking the actions to get there feels impossible.
My journey officially began this year. (I am editing this 6 months later...trying to make this my reality) I am taking REAL steps to start my recovery. A few wonderful people have come into my life and they are helping me get back on track. It is a struggle every minute of every day. I am ready to accept and love myself and my body in whatever shape it is in. I am ready to explore the world beyond my rules. The world we live in makes this change so insanely difficult because we live in a world where dieting is healthy and foods have some morale connotation and it is all SO untrue and poisoning us. I have to find peace with my body and allow it to change because in it's current state...it is sick. It is not functioning, it is in danger.
GO HERE, SHE IS AWESOMEThis blog started because I love to cook for other people and now I am hoping I can use it as a tool to learn to feed myself again. Feed myself with as much love as I want to give the people in my life. It may not happen tomorrow or the next day but it is going to happen. It has to happen. I am ready to find TRUE joy.
