Ana and My Food Journey + Feather 3

I think my relationship with food was normal up until the winter when I was eleven. That's when, to be blunt, I got fat. Not hugely obese, but I grew a good-size belly. That wasn't really the problem, though. The problem was two-fold: I knew I was fat, and I needed to be perfect. "Perfect" didn't come chubby. I remember very clearly the moment of revelation when I first realized I was fat. A cold, wintry day, just before I was about to climb into bed. Standing in front of my small mirror in only my underwear, and seeing my stomach protrude over the elastic waistband. I was disgusted with myself. I vowed I would change.

The change came slowly. Cutting out most sweets. Eating less snacks. Nothing unhealthy or excessive. And the weight started to come off. It helped that I was growing, too. My constant mirror checks on my body were yielding encouraging results. By the time summer came my belly was nearly gone. But that wasn't enough. 

I was on the swim team, my second year I think, and that pulled even more weight off. It was exhilarating watching my body transform from chubby, flabby, disgusting to skinny and firm. 

I don't know exactly when my weight loss changed from healthy to unhealthy, or when the voice in my head stopped being motivation and started being damaging. I don't know exactly when I became anorexic. But I have no doubt that I did. First it started with skipping breakfast. I didn't like eating breakfast anyways, so it wasn't hard. I kind of liked the dizzy feeling I got, swimming in the morning on an empty stomach. Then came cutting out supper. A granola bar would suffice. It got to the point where I was eating a small portion of lunch and a granola bar for an entire day. I got to around 90 pounds and 5'6". My hipbones stuck out and my stomach was a hollow and I could see my ribs and all the bones in my chest. I looked sick. But somehow, I didn't see it. All I could see were my flaws. "My lovehandles are still there," I would think, pinching the small bit of flesh left on my frame. "My waist needs to be smaller. My side view is too thick. My thighs have a little bulge on them." I remember those thoughts well, probably too well.

And then, I stopped. I don't know why. Maybe because in the back of my head I realized how sick this was, more likely because my friends were telling me to stop and eat more. But I gained back enough weight to look healthy again. I was still skinny—my pot belly never came back—but not anorexic any more. 

But that's the thing, isn't it? You're never really not anorexic anymore. I mean, you can be a healthy weight and eat normally. But the voice in your head never goes away. I can't indulge and eat two cupcakes without the voice whispering: "You're a fat pig. Look at your stomach. You should be ashamed. Get yourself under control. Stop eating. right. now." 

True, I haven't listened to these voices seriously in a long time. But the effect they have on your self image is horrible. I can never be happy with my body. I wore a bikini once but I don't have the confidence to pull it off. I feel fat now, at 135 pounds, and the urge to lose weight is nagging at me again. 

Many people have told me how skinny I am, how lucky I am to have a body like I do, and when I tell my friends I feel fat, they laugh at me or glare at me and say: "Shut up, okay? You're so skinny you can't complain," 

But that's the thing, isn't it? It doesn't matter how fat or how skinny you are. Your mind can distort any image in the mirror. I have had good periods where I feel happy with myself. And I have had bad periods where I've felt fat and disgusting. The last good period was during lent, when I went from 132 lbs to 124 and I was elated. I marvelled at the numbers on the scale. I was happy with my lean appearance. And now here I am, back to 135, my highest ever weight, and I feel deeply unhappy. 

Part of it is my terrible eating habits. I've been eating way too much junk food and sweets because if I'm going to put some sugar in my body, I've already blown it and I might as well eat until I'm sick and hate myself. But part of it is just me. Sometimes I think that I'll never like my body, no-matter how many people tell me that it's stupid and self-centered. In some ways those comments hurt the most, because they devalue your struggle in itself. 

Given all this, I think that it's important how I approach my eating habits. Cutting out all sugar for Lent last year worked pretty well, but I don't want to do something that extreme right now. And I've thought of something that feels just right. I guess this is more of a temporary feather, but here it is:

Feather #3: For one week, whatever you eat must be eaten slowly

Deceptively simple, isn't it? I can eat whatever I want, however much I want—just slowly. No eating a handful of m&ms in one bite, and no denying myself foods that I like. {Rhymetime, baby}. Just taking my time to enjoy the food I have. I think it will help control my crazy portions but not send my body-bashing into overdrive. I hope. I'll let you guys know. I'm off to write, in the meantime. 

Angel

Feather Update for August

Perhaps I should do this monthly? Anyways, here's my feather update.

Feather #1: Write at least one chapter on something every week.

I have had every intention of doing this feather, however after the first successful week, we went on vacation and I just got back ... umm ... five days ago, so I should probably get on it again. But I want to write, and I will, I have confidence. Grade: A-

Feather #2: Spend 10 minutes every day tidying my room

For some reason, until I read my post again, I thought this said before bed. And that didn't work at all. I seemed to always get to bed too tired, too late, too uninspired, etc. But my room has been staying rather clean and the idea of taking a little time each day has mostly worked. I have not done this every day, but I've done it more than I used to. So I'd give myself a B- on this. 

Next feather will have something to do with food, as that has been out of control lately, but that'll be one long, juicy post so I'm saving it for later. 

Feather #2

I know that I said something about Feather #2 being something to do with something. Wow, so descriptive. But that fact is, I can't even remember what that something was going to be. Let alone what that something even was about. So, enough with the somethings and on to new things! I've decided what Feather #2 is going to be.

Cleaning. And by that, I don't really mean vacuuming, washing, etc. I mean what you do when your mom says: "Go clean your room!" {and by that I mean, when you actually do clean your room}. I have a few problems with cleaning, and I'm not sure where any of them really originate, but here they are.

1) I am an all-or-nothing person, or a perfectionist. I feel depressed when things are less-than-perfect and, above all, I find it hard to start. Once I've started, I'm usually okay. But it's just hard for me to get of my rear and do it. Something I'm working on.

2) I HATE putting away laundry. Okay, I amend this statement. I HATE {passionately, and with every fiber of my being} the thought of putting laundry away. The look of a giant pile of laundry to hang up depresses me more than my whole floor being covered in random junk. I will literally put clean clothes in the laundry just because I don't want to hang them up. Don't tell my mother. I'm not sure why I have this aversion {it's clean laundry, not like cleaning up vomit} but I do. That's another thing that will have to be conquered.

3) I think, sometimes, I'm just lazy. Especially in regards to not knowing exactly down to the minute detail how to do something, then I just won't even try to figure it out. 

So in a bid to conquer my depressed, laundry-phobic and lazy self, here is feather #2.

Feather #2: Spend 10 minutes every day tidying my room

I've tried this out already, spending ten minutes or so putting away laundry {gasp!} and doing a quick little tidy. I put some Passenger on and actually had a decent time. So that goes to show you. Sometimes all it takes is getting up off your rear and doing something to make you feel better. And 10 minutes? Really? As many excuses as I make, if I can find time to check my facebook, look at funny animal pictures {don't judge}, or read entire novels, I can find time to tidy for 10 minutes. 

Now, this isn't hard and fast either. If my room happens to be spotless, I'm not going to FIND something to mess up or re-fold my underwear. And if it only takes me five minutes, great. That's fine. It's more that, if my room is a god-awful mess, I'll spend ten minutes, and no longer if I don't want to, tidying. 

As for feather #1, I've completed my goal for the first week, and we'll see how this week goes. I am excited at the prospect of another writing session and possibly might upload my story onto Wattpad. I'll keep you posted if I do.

My July favourites post should be up before the end of July and I've got some other ideas in the works. So keep reading, those of you who are. 

Angel

Feather #1

Hey,

It's late, very late, and I'm crouched in the bathroom to evade the gaze of my mother, but I'm updating. Yes, I survived my vacation and even had a pretty good time too. No, I still haven't put away all my stuff. It will happen. Tomorrow. Probably.

Anyways, you're probably wondering at this point: Feather #1? What does that mean? 

Or maybe you're psychic and you already know. If so, disregard the rest of this post. Actually, if you're psychic, why are you even reading this blog? Go make millions at a casino or something.

I digress.

Feather #1 is kind of like saying Goal #1. Except not, because it's "Feather" instead of "Goal". It goes with the whole fledgling thing--you know, growing my feathers. Each goal I set and complete is like a new feather, bringing me one step closer to a perfect set of wings.

What IS Feather #1, is the next question.

Feather #1: Write at least one chapter on SOMETHING every week

I decided to start with something fairly easy that I like to do. I love writing, and I used to write a lot but I haven't and I really want to start again. So this is my goal. Currently I don't really have a story idea that I'm completely in love with, but it doesn't even matter. I read The Gypsy King by Maureen Fergus and fell completely in love. With Azriel, but with the whole book too. It reminded me a lot of how I write, only a lot better. Oh, and she finished the whole book. I need to start again. Writing used to be my outlet, my talent, my pride and it gave me so much happiness. And now I feel like it's been taken from me, even if just by myself. A chapter a week isn't hard. I should easily be able to do that, if not more. But I wanted to make sure this Feather was something I could accomplish for sure. 

Expect a post about writing in the near future, oh, and wish me luck. If you're really nice to me I might even let you read some of my stories ;)

xoxo

Angel