S.O.S.

I feel so OUT OF CONTROL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I hate it.  Aaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

The Worst Part of Therapy

The worst part of therapy for me is before it even starts.  Before each sesh, Dr. K comes out to the waiting room to get me.  She holds the door open and I walk past her into her office and then she walks in behind me.  I HATE THIS!!!  Why?  Because I'm morbidly self conscious about my fatness factor.  I feel like as I walk past her, Dr. K can not only look at my fat body from the front, but also from the back as she comes in behind me.  This makes me so uncomfortable I want to pee myself.  I finally talked to Dr. K about this today.  Like any good therapist, she assured me that she wasn't checking out how fat I was as I walked past.  She admitted that she did look at my face to, in her words, make a connection with me.  

This is a prime example about how I think that everyone else thinks like my eating disordered mind does.  Often times when people walk past me I'm checking out their body size and comparing it to my own.  I obsess about every little fat cell on my body and often on other people's as well.  The moral of the story:  just because I do it doesn't mean that everyone else does it too.  I'm always paranoid that when I'm out in public people are thinking that I'm so fat I shouldn't even be outside.  But I need to remember that most other people don't have eating disordered brains and are probably thinking about other things - like how they are going to do on their presentation at work, how much they need to pay the babysitter, why the economy sucks so bad, etc. 

Problem:  I just can't seem to internalize this.  I understand that other people are probably not obsessing about people's body sizes like I am, but I just can't seem to legitimately convince myself of this.  I can't get over my deep down fear that people really are looking at me and thinking that I'm a fat pig.     

Hallelujah!

The rellies are leaving tomorrow morning!!!!!!  5am, baby.  I'm FREE!    

In a Nutshell

Me in a nutshell.  Here's an update:  

• Only 4 more training sessions to go!  I graduate and become a rape crisis counselor on April 2!
• I'm taking a break from seeing the dietitian (it's been two weeks since I've seen her).  
• Of the original 15, only 8 of my relatives are still in town so it's been a little more manageable for me.  Although they did drink all of my orange soda!  Hmph.
• I hate the GRE!  I've been slacking studying for it this week, but I'm making up for it by studying a lot today. (I'm at the library right now taking a little break.)
• My new favorite things are thermal tees.
• I've never really liked wide leg jeans, but today I'm wearing my only pair and I think I'm okay with it.
• My fingernails are bright red.
• I've been kind of distancing myself from my therapist lately and I don't know why.  
• I have the song "Fearless" by Taylor Swift in my head.  
• I need to get gas today.
• I love my MAC laptop.  I couldn't live without it.    
• Today I went to therapy.  After each session, I go to the deli downstairs in her building and buy two Brown's Diet Cream Sodas (you know, one for now and one for later).  I already drank the first one today and I want the second one that's in my car, but I'm at the library and can't drink anything.  :(
• I need to get back to studying so that's me in a nutshell!

Jodido Pero Contente

I was at an all-day 9am-5pm training today at the Rape Crisis Center.  We spent the whole day talking about -isms (sexism, racism, heterosexism, ableism, etc.).  One of the presenters at one point in the training talked about how even if it is in different ways, all people struggle.  She was Latin and said that when Latins are asked how they are doing, they often reply: jodido pero contente.  According to her, the best translation of this is "effed up but happy."  

Hmmmmm.....

"Effed up but happy."  I like that.  I feel like I'm really effed up right now.  I've felt effed up for most of my life, but it never occurred to me that I could be effed up and happy at the same time.  I've always thought that these two things were mutually exclusive.  I can learn from these Latins!

I want this to be my new motto.

Jodido pero contente.  

[Footnote:  I know very little about Latin culture so I'm basing this post solely on what this Latin presenter said about her own culture.]

Invasion of the Rellies

In therapy today, Dr. K and I talked about how this weekend is going to be a nightmare.  Why, you ask?  The relatives are coming!!!  Fifteen of them.  Yes, you heard me right, FIFTEEN.  They are all going to be staying at my house.  Me no likey.  Not only am I terrified by large groups, I don't even know some of these relatives very well.  It's going to be hella awkward.  I'm going to use the excuse that I need to go off and study for the GRE quite often (I knew the GRE was good for something).

Three of my relatives have been here since Wednesday and the rest are coming tonight.  I told Dr. K about a specific incident that happened on Wednesday night with my aunt (who, by the way is extremely overweight, and therefore very triggering).  I think I've mentioned on my blog before that my new obsession is diet orange soda.  Well, on Wednesday night I poured myself a nice tall glass of it and settled in to read some blogs on my computer in the kitchen.  Well, G, my aunt, came in and said, "Ooooooo, is that orange soda?"  After I said yes, she said, "I think I'll have some too."  My immediate thought was: NO!  That's MY orange soda.  You can't have any!  It's mine, mine, mine.  

I don't know about you guys, but I get really possessive about my food sometimes.  I have certain foods in the house that my parents don't like that are my favorites, so I know they will always be there (i.e. diet orange soda).  I like knowing that the food I like will always be there, that no one is going to eat the last one.  That I won't be surprised by none being left when I want one.  I like knowing.  I like to be in control.  It makes me feel safe.  It gives me security.  I don't like change.  

Having fifteen relatives in the house is going to throw of my food routine and my food security along with everything else.  Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!    

Expect and Accept

Expect and accept that life is hard.  

That was the take-home message of therapy yesterday.  

Expect that life is hard: 

When I don't expect things to be hard and then they are - I get frustrated and overwhelmed really easily.  The GRE class for example.  I knew that preparing for the test was going to take a lot of work, but I didn't expect to struggle with the concepts so early in the game.  Because I didn't expect it and it caught me by surprise, it made things more frustrating than if I had gone in with the attitude that this is going to be hard and expecting to struggle a little bit.  Dr. K reminded me that my learning curve for the GRE isn't going to be a straight line going up - there will be ups and downs.  When I expect the downs, I don't get discouraged so easily.  The same thing goes for recovery.  When you expect the downs, you can deal with them more easily.  

Accept that life is hard:

This is a big problem for me.  It's a cold, hard truth that life is hard, but I don't want to believe it.  I fight it tooth and nail.  I don't want to accept it.  But when I don't accept it, it makes things harder for me.  Instead of fighting against something that will not change, I need to accept the truth and move on.  If I'm constantly fighting it, I can't deal with it.  Not accepting that life is hard becomes a stumbling block.  Instead, I need to embrace it.  

Embracing the fact that life is hard brings peace and understanding.  I know that this is something that I need to work on.  I want to be able to go with the flow and not fight life's natural rhythm.  "Just be" - that's the saying, right?  :)               

Life is hard.  Expect it.  

Life is hard.  Accept it.