I heard someone say that once: “[Bad things happen] when we are left alone in our heads without adult supervision.” I know in my case it’s definitely true. And I’ve been spending a LOT of time without adult supervision in there.
Do you ever have a moment where something comes out of your mouth without you thinking about it, and AFTER the fact you realize that it’s exactly right? That it was something you’d known deep down for a long time, but hadn’t ever really REALIZED? And sometimes it might even be stuff you’d said before, out loud and everything, but not really HEARD yourself. The other day my mom and I were talking about different diets for different folks, and how different people do better on different foods. She asked me, “So what would your healthiest diet be?” and before I even thought about it I responded, “No carbs, no dairy.” And then it really hit me. No dairy. Not even goat cheese or raw cheese or any of that. None. And no carbs. Although in my case, I really mean no sugar or flour. I don’t worry about fruit or the occasional whole-wheat tortilla (just because I don’t tend to eat much of either one), but sugar, pasta, white flour, alcohol, sugar substitutes (not carbs, I know, but not good for me, either), etc. Bad scenes, all.
No dairy, no carbs. And then of course, my ED brain leaps into the fray, the restricted voice battling with the binging voice:
“NEVER AGAIN! We can cut those foods out FOREVER! NO BIRTHDAY CAKE FOR YOU, FATTIE!”
“Hey! YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME! I’m going to eat Chinese food with CHOW MEIN for lunch and ice cream for dessert tonight! Just try and stop me, a$$hole!”
The . . .er, “conversation” continues along those lines indefinitely.
Miz wrote today about decluttering. And I was nodding along, feeling pretty damn good about myself (because I don’t have a lot of clutter) until she got to the part about kitchen clutter. Oh, man. I collect food. I have a can, a freezer package, a produce drawer, all full of “one of each” (so to speak). And I just buy more. I buy food until I literally have no place left to store it, and then I go through and use it all up over 2 or 3 weeks. (Man, if Armageddon ever hits, I’m SET.) (And yes, it only takes 2 or 3 weeks. I have a teeny kitchen with NO storage space.) I collect it in my kitchen, and I collect it on my body. *sigh* I guess I need to work on that.
Also, the thought of going back to the gym PETRIFIES me. I’m not really sure why, but I’ve crossed the line from “I don’t wanna” to flat-out dread and freaked-out-ness. I’m not sure why, unless it’s fear of change. There’s a part of me that is truly freaked out at the idea of going to the gym: it feels like too much pressure, too much to live up to, too many people looking at me, too many mirrors around for me to hate myself in, too much, too many, too much, too many. I think my personal training sessions are about to expire (if they haven’t already), so I might use them after all, just as an excuse to force my ass back into the gym.
Also, I might not go to the gym much once I move. Once I’m back in a ground-floor, air-conditioned unit, I’d much rather work out at home, in my living room, to my Turbo Jam DVDs. I LOVE those things, I really do (and I haven’t been doing them because I’ve been living in a 2nd-floor apartment with hardwood floors). And now I’ve got a fair amount of fitness equipment, so I can even do weights! YAY!
I’m also scheduled out to the gills at the moment. Or at least it looks that way on paper. I need to learn to shift my mindset from “OMG, I have so much to DO!” back to “student” mind-set: “Just do the next thing on the list, and remember that there is rest built in there, too.” I’m working on that right now.
I’m trying to make a lot of changes right now, and I have to remember that. In some ways I do well with lots of changes all at once, because it’s a clean break from “before,” but in other ways lots of changes can really fuck me up, because it’s just straight-up harder to make lots of changes, especially big ones.
I’ve ALSO noticed how MUCH my mood spirals down and in on itself when I’m not eating well, sleeping well, etc. I become so tired that my stomach is upset, and anything other than grease and starch starts to make me feel ill. But eating foods high in grease and starch screws with my mood, making me want to stay up late brooding. And then I’m tired, so grease and starch, and then I stay up late, and then and then and then. Like that. I’m in the deep part of a downward spiral at the moment, and am looking around, realizing that I’m going to have to violently wrench myself out of the middle of it. Emergency self-care, so to speak. Triage for the mind and soul.
That means I need some more plans. I’ll spend some time cleaning out the fridge tonight, writing down what’s in there, writing down recipe ideas that I can eat (no carbs, no dairy), so that I don’t even have to think about it when I get home. (Also, I’m making Mu Shu tonight, because I LOVE VEGETABLE MU SHU! AND NO CARBS, NO DAIRY (I don’t eat the rice pancakes)! Woo-hoo!)
Triage. That’s what becomes necessary when I spend time alone in my head without adult supervision. For the love of Pete.