Posts from — December 2008

In addition to eating disorder and a few other psychiatric issues, I’m apparently an embarrassing hypochondriac with whom my husband would rather not be associated. This became apparent in the vet’s office today, as he tried to make himself invisible in the corner of the exam room where our puppy was being seen.

Granted, we’re in there a lot – so much so that the receptionist made a comment about our puppy needing her own emergency hotline. She made a point, and we were both embarrassed. But I swear the dog is sick. Not my husband though -  he swears I’m the one that’s sick.

Please take a moment to remember the dangers of alcohol:

1. It’s fattening, even in moderation and particularly in excess.
2. It clouds judgment, which you’ll learn if you wake up in the morning next to an ugly, fat person.
3. It may cause you to act stupid and beligerent. It may also cause you to vomit.

So we’re a couple of killjoys, but it’s only because we care. The world is already full of stupid people. Don’t be one of them.

Happy New Year’s!

I was browsing the Internet and stumbled on a new term for my eating disorder, one that I think more aptly applies to me today. Disordered eating describes a large range of irregularities and patterns in eating behaviors that don’t necessarily fit into a specific eating disorder diagnosis. While we may refer to ourselves as anorexics, the fact is I haven’t been a true Ana since 1997. But food completely controls my life. What I eat, my caloric intake, and physical activity levels all figure prominently into my daily routine. I feel like I finally have a place in the world. I wonder how long it’ll be before we celebrate National Disordered Eating Week.

My therapist suggested I confront my parents about their contributions to my eating disorder (since they’re still contributing) and my overall low self-esteem. A few weeks ago we were sitting around the dinner table and I laid on the blame. My mom said: I would want someone to tell me if I were getting fat. And my dad said: I’ve been calling you a skeleton lately, what more do you want from me. I gave them both a hug and allowed them to fall back into their pattern of self-denial. I may be plagued with a lifetime of food issues, but at least I’m not fat. I guess I owe it all to my parents.

Nothing makes me happier than befriending a fellow people-hater. There are few of us in this world. Most of humanity is too stupid or shallow to realize how fucked up people are. I have to admit that I sometimes wish I was stupid and shallow. It’s so much easier to be alive when you don’t hate everyone so much. But then I remember that I’d rather be dead.

I tried my hand at baking cookies from scratch for the first time last weekend. At the suggestion of Skinny Lady, I substituted I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter spray for the real thing and non-fat milk for whole milk. I also decided to use Splenda rather than real sugar. As expected, the cookies turned out disgusting. My anorexia ruined my Martha Stewart moment. I do not recommend.

Like any serious anorexic, I have a digital scale for precision. I also have a daily ritual: I step on the scale, check the weight, step off, then step on again and check the weight a second time. If the number comes out the same both times, then I accept it as my weight for the day. If, however, it comes out different, then I go with the best three out of five. And I’m always hoping it’s the lower number that wins.

I hope you get fat.

- said to my husband after discovering he finished off the Nutella.