August 20 [Wed], 2008, 1:40
*bows head in shame to once again neglected blog*
Although I would have to admit that this is of little surprise to myself. I am pretty much constantly neglecting this poor blog of mine. Not to mention that, as of late- encompassing this past year to be precise-, I have been completely neglecting my emails as well. I do end up replying eventually, but all concepts of punctuality seem to have flown away with whatever semblance of organization I had once possessed. *sighs*
Thrown in tumults of indecision with regards to taking up a min-career in writing, I find myself barely capable of writing a daily entry in here. One would think that my late night chatting with my significant other would give way to writing productivity... but we all know what I spend my free moments in between responses doing, do we not.
So I have been letting my late night munching take presidence over all of the other things that I have been wishing, yet unsuccessfully not accomplishing. Ultimately, this leaves me in an uncomfortable transition period in my lengthy therapy. I have put on a great deal of weight, my clothes no longer fit the way that they are supposed to, and I still find myself clinging to inappropriate habits- purging specifically. Is this a means of coping with the changes in my body. I would rather see it as a form of lack of self-restraint. I consciously choose before eating if I am going to rid myself of whatever I intake, and so I am choosing with a calm conscious to do this to myself.
The doctors stress that gaining weight is integral to my healing, but is gaining weight through innappropriate methods really justifiable???
*sighs* Despite all of this turmoil, I am in a relatively good mood today... I think. I have taken the initiative to at least write in here as well as send a few emails. Now I should go to the store and pick up a Rococo-esque card to actually send Kristine a letter in, ne~
Hopefully I will be writing again soon,
July 20 [Sun], 2008, 23:37
I thought that working at Taste of Edmonton was supposed to be fun… Now I am in the role where, while I have a small degree of fun and a great opportunity to practice my Japanese, I am making it so that everyone else can have fun. And I am left feeling strained and exhausted as I drag myself to my next shift. If the whole day was outside then I would not feel nearly so exhausted. That is for certain. A whole day outside would include the slow periods in which I can relax… my current shifts aren’t nearly so accommodating. So I have a bunch of useless staff who are almost more burden than they are help and I spend the bulk of my shift trying to make it so that they do not completely embarrass the restaurant or violate all of the food safety guidelines. The part that I suppose is really exhausting is how I do not have anywhere near the kind of help that other people have. Yesterday I started at 10am and I didn’t even have a minute to go to the bathroom until my shift ended at 4pm and I was supposed to rush over to the restaurant. Of course one of the useless three showed up to make the team all the more useless and I wanted to tell her that she should bug off so that some work could get done…
I feel this bubbling rage from last night that I have yet to release, so there is so much tension in my back and neck that I really am not looking forward to dealing with on my second day long shift outside. TOE was actually the best part of my day yesterday, for the past few days to be completely honest. It was the annoying last tables, the missing bills because of the worst excuse for a cashier in training possible and the pathetic excuse for a manager on second floor in the bar. So yet again I find over half of my tip going into the pot to pay for their mistake because a waitress argues against her not properly closing and looking over her bills. She is fighting against the restaurant because she did not do her job properly and so I have to defend the restaurant and apologize for the cashier who causes me nothing but stress for the whole night. I just began to think that she wasn’t going to screw me over completely last night, and yet I was so wrong it is appauling. Friday night we are $28 short and that must come out of tip. Last night we are short $5 and an entire bill of $70, the 5 coming out of tips and the $70 coming out of my pocket. Please just get rid of the useless staff! Or at least make it so that I do not have to babysit on the busiest days please! In the end, the only one left to take responsibility for everything is me. So I get all the more frustrated when I cannot do my job or when I have to do my job which causes stress and loss on my behalf.
Not to mention being completely rushed through my cash out when I already have piles of responsibility upon my shoulders. If the person would just allow me to do my job then we would finish much faster. Oh well… there is really nothing that can be done about the past. I need to talk to Chieko-san about not working with that girl on busy days because it is just not a help. I would rather have complete responsibility for my own cash and then take on the faults that arise than having to constantly be apologizing for others’ mistakes (if they are, nothing is clear when there are so many people touching the money haphazardly).
Let us just pray to whatever deity is up there that today goes better than the last. （＞人＜)
July 18 [Fri], 2008, 0:40
These past few days I find that my creative energies are seriously suffering. I cannot find the direct reason, besides the fact that my former epiphany has only proved to be itself- an idea and an understanding. Without action, these ideas are nothing more than mere flickers deep within the conscious mind. There is inexplicable, uncomparable power in human thought. But it is only when this thought is properly harnessed and disciplined than any action can come of these mere notions. I have allowed myself to become devoid of action. Or perhaps I am blocking myself from taking the next step and going into action.
Throghout all of my struggles, this problem has been my companion and my saving grace. It saves me from not my sanity, but it saves me from feeling the intensity of my feelings. I need to abandon it, and yet is seems as though there is some part of my mind that resists to let go of such a steady companion.
The dark side, our demons are much faster at granting our wishes than any holy or altruistic powers- the purity is far too busy to be bothered constantly.
And so last night I put my will power into action, albeit the ritual was far from properly conducted. However, in my beliefs, it is not the ritual itself that holds the bulk of the power, but the will that guides the spell- the magic of the mind.
Kneeling before my beside alter, I annointed a small slender white candle. Without the presence of an essential oil I had to further concentrate my will, my feelings and emotions which were the direction of my magic. North to Centre, South to Centre. I thought of nothing but my freedom. Abandonning and squelching this demon the first thought in my mind as I repeated the annointing actions seven times in each direction. Taking a deep breath I lit my standard set of four candles, three white ones on a tier and one red candle-for the passion in my heart, surrounded by the purity of will.
On a virgin piece of paper, I wrote my wish, visualizing it happening. The images of happiness and strength, acceptance of the me that no longer traps herself in superficial shells painted vast tapestries in my mind. Carefully, I fold the paper. Once, twice, thrice. Now I take another deep breath as I set the candle in the holder. I draw it up to the highest of my lit candles and I set flame to the wick. Next I place the tip of a cone of incense into the ritually annointed candle’s flame. Incense represents air, the cleansing of the soul as well as the messenger of the spell- guiding it up to whichever deities takes on my plight and guides me to my freedom.
In one last motion, I take the folded paper and, visualizing my future, I set flame to it. I watch as it burns and folds in among itself, enveloped by the flame. I set the paper down next to the candle. I stretch up towards the sky, pulling the incense smoke towards me. Visualizing my freedom- in the moment, I am free.
So go the ritual…
July 15 [Tue], 2008, 11:32
For the time being, I will continue to reflect on problems which have been the focus of my past few entries. These are the issues that have been taking precedence in my life thus far and I need to find some sort of appropriate therapeutic vent in order to step closer towards my own freedom. And so I am in the middle of my labyrinth.
In Egypt, it was believed that, one nobles passed on, their Ba spirit was sent on a journey to the underworld which entailed travelling through a labyrinth before reaching the final gates of judgement. This labyrinth was long and twisting and had sixteen doors, each guarded by a ferocious gatekeeper who would not allow passage lest one had the appropriate password. Each of these gates was a trial. And honesty was not one’s sole companion.
In my own labyrinth, I have reached a place somewhere near the first door, and I have been rejected. I can sense that this gatekeeper, this first trial is ‘loneliness’ and yet I am not armed with the proper equipment to pass. Today I found my fatigued self coming home to an empty house and, after having my lunch, throwing all reason out the window and laughing at any ideas of resisting the following urge to binge. So I went out and bought the necessary items and spent a great deal of the evening doing just that. So instead of looking at myself with shame and resent, I need to use the strategies that I have available at the moment and analyze the happenings:
I had been having lunch, something that I had bought on the way home, before it all happened. While eating I could sense that I was particularily ravenous, and so it was something that I tried to keep stranded at the back of my mind. So instead of focusing on the nourishment I was getting, I was focusing on what I was denying myself. I then began to feel impulsive and craving sweets. I wanted cookies, or another sandwich. And seeing my limited budget, I decided the former. So I went off and got cookies, bugles and some milk. I finished those, then I made a rice bowl, falafels, pasta, cream sauce, coconut pudding, and oatmeal. I ended up purging everything (which was not of any surprise).
While I was really hungry when I had my lunch, I was not allowing myself to be full and satisfied after I finished eating. This was where I went wrong. Actually, it seems as though I have lots of problems when I do not mindfully sit down and eat whatever it is that I have in front of me.
Now that I have gotten this off of my chest, I need to try my best to not allow myself to get that hungry. Especially on days when I am tired and feeling in need of extra energy (which could easily be attained through short naps)..
Either way, I think that I was way ahead of myself when I assumed that recovery was in my hands. There are still many gates, twists, turns, bends, trials and potholes in the route to my recovery. And so I must march on…
July 14 [Mon], 2008, 0:36
Carrying my recent epiphany on my shoulders, I took myself to work with a sudden lightness of mood. I understand that I am nowhere near my solution, but for the time being, the present is no longer so dark. I have been searching for this for a very long time. Adamantly searching for the very solution that writing the previous entry brought me to. I had even gone so far as to confront my therapists and ask them for the help that I needed to find that solution out. For somebody who could give me some guidance to find the reason why I was always so afraid of becoming the old me. Now that I am a little more aware of this fear- the problem- I am more prepared to construct a series of possible solutions.
I have been reading, for the third of fourth time now, a book called Eating in the Light of the Moon by Dr. Anita Johnston. This book describes how a lot of problems similar to mine own are caused by losing touch with the feminine side of the body, by denying one’s emotions to adhere to a patriarchical society we essentially set ourselves up for an insatiable emotional hunger. Having denied the feminine, intuitive side of oneself, we no longer have the tools for recognition of the type of hunger (feeling) we are experiencing, so food becomes the focus of this dilemma. Starving or stuffing…
While reading this book I came across many ideas for getting in touch with the feminine. It is an impeccably written piece of prose which flows through folk tales in order to teach the morals that are essential to recovery in a more accessible and comfortable manner. However, no matter how much I wrote, I could never quite touch on that central reason. I would journal page after page, but it was never in a single elongated and unrestricted sitting. So I would always bring myself to the first gate within my inner labyrinth, and then I would turn around and go back to the beginning so that I could return to daily life. Now, I feel as though I have passed through that door, and even the second one after that. This is nowhere near the centre of the labyrinth, but the first two gates remain open. Now I just need to focus on inner reflection day in and day out, then I will be able to find out what it is that I truly desire.
I look at the first two gates as the blocks to my feelings. They are the walls that I had constructed with my rational mine in order to protect myself from the damage feeling can cause. Now I must go through and experience every single feeling individually and take each one in with special care. It will hurt, but that is expected. Anger is expected. Frustration is a given. But these are inescapable human emotions. A person cannot control their emotions, one can only control how one reacts to them. As the book lies out for reflection, often a personal will unconsciously associate certain foods with certain wants, needs or emotions. What I now need to do is to look at why I am craving a certain substance, and turn deep into myself and see what it is that my heart is craving, before I eat that item.
I refuse to believe that this is an entirely biological reaction of the body. I will acknowledge that biologically the human body will encourage eating to regain the long lost energy, but I really do not think that is the sole problem in my case. I have been using food to run for far too long. Now I need to find what I am running from and confront it head on. Then I can put that demon to rest and learn to live in the here and the now and enjoy my life.
July 13 [Sun], 2008, 0:22
When I had first began writing last night, I was tired and oh so confused. I did not particularily have the blogging spirit in me, so I have resigned to continuing with my feelings and thoughts this morning. They echo the same feelings and notions as the previous night, so I do not see too much need for revision or change of character.
I am afraid and trapped. I suppose this might be the best way to outline my feelings as they stand right now. I am afraid of what will happen to me when I gain weight in a society that focuses so much on thinness for approval. I have fought so hard to get to the point where I currently sit. I have gained the approval and in some cases the admiration of my peers, and this is a feeling that I have been moving forward my whole life to gain. I long for recognition. I long for my father and my family to see me as something more than a nuisance. There is so much that I want to say, and I want to be heard. I do not want to be silenced or stepped on. I do not want to be looked down upon or have my opinions tossed aside because of my own position. I do not want to be seen as trash because of the family that I was brought up in. I want to surpass the limitations that my position in birth has ascribed me and to prove that every child born into an abusive, drug addicted, alcohol family is not destined to become a child beating, alcoholic druggie who is constantly running from the law, responsibility, and most of all- their lives.
Wow… I cannot believe that just came out… it was entirely unexpected and I cannot stop the tears from falling down my cheeks in rivers…
Is that what my eating disorder is all about? To escape the family that brought me. The family that I have been so ashamed of, my entire life, and wanted nothing more than to escape from the restrictions that it set upon me. It is so much more than just the eating. The eating has been my way to run from the shame, to run from the loneliness, and to make it so that society will not look at me in a way where I am comparable to them. When I was fat, I was nowhere near what I wanted to be. I was not eligible to sit side by side with the people in middle or higher class society who had the manners and stability that I could only dream of. It was my teenage way of making the pain of being lesser the more manageable. When I was fat I did not have to worry about being compared to others, I could be my crude and disgusting self and not worry about trying to impress anyone. I had already spent most of my childhood trying to rise above the average and, at every turn I was thrown down to the floor all the harder. Whipped, and slapped, called worthless and thrown down the stairs. Told to “Shut up” Shut Up!” when I tried to speak, when all I wanted was to be heard. Then I found my escape… in dieting I was able to take myself away from the stress of the family, even when things were starting to settle. When I was in Japan I had my first opportunity to live with a stable and higher class family. And at first, the fatter me was an object of constant ridicule to my host parents. I was despised for being the Elya that ran from all of her problems with obsessions with anime and the vicarious life, far better than my own, that it offered. But most of all, it was my rampant consumption in attempts to fill up this void inside of me that my host family saw as problematic. And so I longed to gain their approval more than anyone else’s. Losing weight, I began to notice that, while my ideas and opinions, my dreams and goals. The fact that I could take on anything, any challenge that I could comprehend and achieve results if I put myself towards it; those achievements would not give me the approval that I longed for. But losing weight made it so that all eyes turned towards me. Here was a demonstration of all of that will power that I was trying to show in a variety of other activities, and I had finally found an outlet for it that people looked up to. Society was finally starting to approve of me. It was a ‘Eureka-moment’ for me, and suddenly I found a path out of the abusive family, out of the rejection and the loneliness, and the mold that my upbringing had ascribed me to.
The thinner I got the further I could go… I wanted more. I wanted love, acceptance, adoration, approval… and I let it go too far…
July 12 [Sat], 2008, 15:52
And so my gaze fell fondly upon the tiny glowing balls of light, the rays of sunshine glistening off of their frantically flapping wings as their tiny slender bodies frolicked about the unruly long blades of grass. I fall back, into a land of fantasy where I eagerly chased the bodies of innocent and mischievious faeries as they pranced about the tree roots, forever evading my touch. Such is the land where dreams and reality blend, within the entrancing beams of sun-inspired fantasies…
In desperate attempts to touch my long since repressed feminine side, I find myself tripping and falling on a daily basis, failing in a way that makes me feel it would have been best to have never started at all. Such are my thoughts whenever the notion of healing my soul to heal my eating patterns emerges. I know that there is something from my past which leads me to run to food to squelch down feelings that I have not learned to cope with. I have taught myself from a young age to use food to force away the feelings, to hide the memories that I am not ready to face with a clear head.
When my obsession changed into an obsession with achieving the perfect body, a figure that defied all human needs and would finally win me the approval of friends, schoolmates, coworkers and family, that was when my coping devices were all proven faulty and ineffective. I am afraid of gaining weight, yet I deal with and forget stress with food. And as of late, all I feel is stress…
I need to get something off of my chest. This would be all of the fear and frustration that has been surfacing in conversations as of late. I am surrounded by images that counter my goals in recovery. It is inevitable that, in this day and age, in our society, that thinness and weight-loss is associated with happiness and triumph. Likewise, fatness and weight-gain are frowned upon, seen as complete lack of self-control and respect. And yet I am expected to willingly gain weight in order to counter this oppressive image? Which is why I feel so sad and angry all of the time. I am so uncomfortable when my friends send me email and text messages several times daily celebrating their weight-loss. I want to be able to support and congratulate, yet all I can do is envy and feel worse about myself in response. I need to just sit down with these people and say something like:
“Congratulations dear, but I would like to ask that we keep the topic of weight out of the conversation for the time being. I want to be able to support you, but I am afraid that considering I am trying to recover from eating issues, then it is important that I stay away for those kinds of topics.”
Assertiveness, that is something I need to develop to tackle life… if only (TBC)
November 20 [Tue], 2007, 12:14
And now for the English portion of my blog...
As I said above, I am not really with much that is of need of being said, but I will be trying to actively update my blog, even if it were just things that I have discovered at work. *giggles*
Like the wonders of gluten free blueberry crepes~♪