When Silence isn't Golden

Sorry I haven’t been around much lately guys. Honestly…I hit a rough patch. I’m not really sure when it started…but my old behaviors began creeping back in. It could have been the stress of exams, this hopelessness and fear I feel about my future, the realization I am graduating and that means losing my N (more on this in a later post). I am really not sure. All I know is I slowly started slipping, the scale started becoming my only focus, and then I woke up with food poisoning today. Pretty much the perfect storm for a lapse. And it did happen. I did cut out one of my snacks today. For some reason it seemed the way to cope…but I’m sitting here not feeling any better.

What am I trying to cope with. Right now? The silence. I feel so alone in life right now. I don’t know why. I spent time with my mom this weekend, I am on a campus surrounded by people, and I have people who text me during the day. But at the end of the day, or in those moments in the day where there is nothing but work I am doing…I feel alone. And it scares me.

It’s in these moments grief comes back and hits hard. These moments were the times I would call my dad. I remember I used to find any tiny excuse to call him. I always felt I had to have a reason to call him…even though I really just called to hear his voice. These past few days I have been hit hard with the loss again. The fact that I have these silent moments and he isn’t there to fill them. I close my eyes and can see him. I can feel his arms around me. And yet…he isn’t here. I just feel this emptiness. This longing. And I can’t satisfy it. I just want him back and nothing I can do can make that happen…so I have been focusing on my weight instead. Something I feel I have more control over. Something I can force to go my way. But at the end of the day, in the silence, I still feel this loss.

I honestly don’t know what to do. I have never felt this amount of grief and pain and ache. I know how I can make it right…I can get my dad to come back to earth. Problem is…I’m not God. I can’t make that happen and its not in God’s Will for it to happen. I know His Will is good. That His way is greater than mine…but right now..in the silence…I want my way to be right. I want it to be the way.  I want my dad so this pain can go away. I just want this pain to stop…and it won’t. It won’t ntil he is back.

I have escaped emotions using ED for my whole life, but grief. This insurmountable grief. ED isn’t even big enough to overcome it. Even restricting today I was consumed with thoughts of my dad. Memories of my dad. The love for my dad. And the pain that he is not here. Part of me likes the pain because it means I’m not moving on. But the other part…is just drained by it. Consumed by it.

And a lot of it I know comes from realizing I will have lots of goodbyes coming when I graduate. I am tired of having to say goodbye. I want time to stop moving. I want things to just stand still. I feel like I jumped on this train called life and its chugging down the track at a rapid pace and I’m not ready. I don’t know where its taking me and I feel like its plowing down the things I care about along the way without stopping to let me catch my breath.

I’m also scared I am going to lose my stepfamily. I feel like the longer my dad is gone the less they wonder about me. The less contact we have. And the more silence creeps in. This scares me. I saw my mom’s family fall apart when my aunt died. I saw my dad’s family distance when his parents died. And I’m terrified me, my stepmom, and stepsiblings will distance now that my dad is gone. I just can’t lose any more people. I just can’t.

I think it’s strange that in the midst of all this loss my mind goes to loss for the answer. Just lose weight and everything will be better is what my mind says. It blames all of this horridness on my weight being higher than its been in a while. I wish it were that simple. I wish ED was right about this one. I wish I could just lose to a certain weight and everything be okay. I wish if my weight was stable it would mean my life is stable…but that’s just not reality. I’ve lost, I’ve gained, I’ve maintained and this pain has been there every step of the way. My dad hasn’t come back. My future hasn’t been made clear. All that’s happened is I have felt more lost and confused and scared. All emotions I don’t cope well with. I can usually run from them…but after not facing them for so many years…they are too big to outrun. So I guess I will have to face them…I just don’t know how. 

Sorry this isn't cheerful. That there isn't some happy ending I have right now. But right now..I'm trying to be okay with not being okay. 

Getting Choosy

So I have learned a lot about choices today. The choices I have in recovery that ED tells me I don’t. Where to start…the morning seems best.

Well today was a snow day which meant all classes cancelled. Most people on campus excited about this and part of me was t. But the ED part of me was not. In ED’s world all this meant was I would be walking less and would miss spin class. So ED crafted a nifty illusion. He told me I had to do an hour workout because I didn’t have spin. Otherwise it just wouldn’t be right of me. And I knew I had a choice. I knew I could choose to just take the day off…but instead I chose to negotiate with my hostage taker. Bad choice.

I decided I would base my decision off of the scale. I now see that wasn’t making a choice at all. It was letting a number rule me again. ED told me I had to weigh today anyway because I was supposed to originally when I had a N session today (that was cancelled because of the snow too). The truth: I could have chosen not to weigh. To decide to take a rest day because I needed to. But that is not the choice I made and because weight slightly up I decided to exercise.

I won’t get into details, but ED took hold fast at that point. He knew he had me. He took control of my exercise decisions and my morning. Over and over making me feel I didn’t have a choice.

With me cornered he decided to take over my meal planning for the day too. I hadn’t planned out today the night before like I usually do because I thought I would have an N session. ED had the reigns and now he was Master Chef. He was choosing what I was “allowed” today because of my weight. He told me I didn’t have a choice unless I wanted to be fat. He chose the lowest calorie options for everything. But then I started getting craving. Cravings not in his safe list and he wasn’t happy. Especially not when I had disobeyed him at breakfast and weighed but not torn my English muffin and also gotten the right amount of prunes.

I started to panic. ED told me I couldn’t eat what I was craving…just think of the calories. I couldn’t do it. But thinking of eating what ED planned made me feel miserable. Surprise, surprise…ED makes me feel miserable. Same old story. So I went to dining hall planning on getting what ED wanted. I literally felt chained down. Each step to the dining hall I felt I was marching to my prison.

I did the only thing I could think. I texted my support. But no one responded. I was at that place I talked about a few posts ago. Alone. Just me, myself, and my moments. So I decided to journal. And I realized ED was lying to me. ED was telling me I had no choice because of the calories. ED was telling me I had to obey him because I had earlier that day. But these were all lies.

It was true…I couldn’t choose that calories are permanently etched in my brain. That when I look at food I see numbers. That is just my reality. That is what years of training with ED has done. I couldn’t erase the fact I knew my weight. These numbers were there. But I had a choice of what to do with them. I could choose to submit myself to these numbers or to submit the numbers to God by eating what I wanted. I could choose to know the numbers, but not let them and ED decide what I eat. Was it the easy choice? No! But it was my choice.

At first I thought: “Okay. I will just do some of the things I want, but “balance them out” with what ED wanted.” Then I remembered this morning. Where negotiating with ED had gotten me. I realized I could choose freedom. Choose my purpose. Or I could choose ED. And giving ED any pleasure by letting him choose even a single part of the meals and snacks I had left…that wasn’t choosing my purpose. So I chose my purpose. I chose to eat what I wanted. To know the calories and do it anyway. 

I am scared….that is so true. But I am also excited and happy. I am happy because I am doing what I wanted. That little girl inside is smiling because I am telling her its okay to eat. That the numbers she was made slave to don’t have to control her anymore. That what she wants matters. And I’m excited because by disobeying ED I have the opportunity to see he is wrong.

This is the reality of what ED looks like. You really want
that making your decisions?

So when ED says you don’t have a choice stop in your tracks. Stop and realize your choices. Because ED will only tell you you don’t have a choice when he gets scared. When he realizes how strong you are and that if you choose to go against him you will be free. When he realizes you are outsmarting him and seeing him for the scrawny, puny, liar he is. So stop, realize your choices, and choose the scarier one, the freeing one, the one ED is screaming not to take. That choice is where you will find freedom, peace, and Truth. That is the choice you deserve.

Oh..and in case you are curious…here were my choices.

• For Lunch ED wanted my usual safe options for veggie and starches. I chose to do broccoli, sweet potato, and black beans!
• For dinner ED wanted oatmeal for 2 starches which actually is against my plan. I went with grits like I wanted.

Comment below or e-mail me or use the comment form to let me know whether you all want me to post pics of my freedom foods/meals. Also, whether you want me to post my freedom foods list and update it as I face things. Love you all!

Stepping away from scale?

So it’s been a rough two days. I was flying high in recovery and then yesterday it all came crashing down. Why? Same culprit as always....and a culprit I am ready to let go of: the scale. I hope you will learn from me and start letting go of the scale too. 

 I woke up feeling thinner….but then I stepped on the scale and it was the complete opposite and I freaked. As much as I didn’t want to, I let the scale dictate my day.I was scared all day. In a bad mood all day. Cried for hours. Questioned every last morsel that went into my mouth. ED even creeped in and I used the food scale more than I should have. When my N e-mailed me to send me a surprise challenge of dessert that night I tried to combat her. I came up with so many excuses why I couldn’t or why it didn’t look good instead of just accepting the challenge like I wanted to do. In the end, I did it. And that's a step in the right direction....but I shouldn't let the scale dictate how I respond to my N...to a person trying to help set me free. 

I was miserable all day because of numbers on a scale. I even told myself it was most likely my last day in recovery and if I was even .1 lbs more today I would lapse. Well guess what…all that panic, all that fear…it was for nothing. I am right back down to the weight I started at this morning. The loss of control ED told me I had because weight was up..it was but an illusion. It was just what it was...water, poop, food...my body being a body. The scale wasn't a measure of control, but an illusion of some way I could measure if recovery was okay. And even when scale is down...recovery doesn't feel okay. 

 I woke up feeling miserable and scared and bloated this morning, but because weight was down it was a I felt free to eat what I wanted. Confident in my meal plan. At least for a moment.  I smiled and laughed today because I was able to live in the moments not in a number in my head. But even in this joy I realized ED was still in control. By stepping on a scale and letting the numbers dictate my day…ED is still in control. Even if it makes my day a good one...my trust, my joy, my moments shouldn't be dictated by an abritrary number that is just a measure of poop, fluid, and food. It's not my fault that I can't just step on a scale and let it be numbers...my brain just doesn't work that way right now. It's not healed yet. And so...I think I need to step away from the scale and go to weekly weighing. I need to do it for my purpose.

I want to be able to love life and enjoy my moments. I can’t do that with a number haunting me all day. A number that doesn’t even matter. I need to put my hope of recovery in God and my future and my purpose, not in my weight. Reality is my weight has to increase….and if I can’t accept that I need to only weigh with someone who can help me cope with it..my N.

I also realized there is so much deception in the scale. If weight is up more than I am comfortable it haunts me all day. ED uses it to tell me I can’t eat this or that. That I need to be more active. That I need to watch what I eat. That I need to relapse. That I can’t trust plan. The whole day this happens. He steals the joy of every moment. Sure I was still obedient yesterday despite his screaming, but I wonder what little miracles in the day I missed because I was blinded by the fog of the scale.

Now let’s look at days like today when the scale is down. The joy from that moment…it lasts only for a brief time. But I start to still question food and what I should eat and if I can eat the freedom foods I am craving. It’s the same chaos that is there when weight is up…it’s just easier to push through. I just find it funny. If weight up torment haunts me all day…if weight is down the freedom only lasts a few minutes. So…why do I want to weigh again?

I have always told people I need to weigh every day because it helps me…but I am realizing this is just a lie ED tells me. It’s clear to me weighing daily does not help. Weighing weekly with N will be good because it will be for the purpose of tracking progress and she will be there to silence ED…but on my own…there is just no positive. Sure…I get a brief break when weight doesn’t go up too much…but as I said…the fear is still there.

So why not feel the fear without the torment. I mean ED is obviously going to question everything I eat whether scale is up or down.  And if it’s down he won’t let me feel freedom. Like when I weighed this morning I was in such shock and ED started making excuses for why weight was down I didn’t realize all the lies ED told me that it broke. I ate dessert yesterday, I ate higher calorie options, I ate more nuts than normal, I didn’t spill cereal I always do…and I didn’t gain. But ED doesn’t let me see that when I weigh.

I want to weigh to feel like it’s safe to eat…but I need to start to know it’s safe to eat because others say it is. Because I know in my heart it is okay for me to nourish myself. I need to put my hope and trust in something other than a scale or ED will still have control over me. I want to be free to enjoy all the moments and miracles of the day and the scale just doesn’t allow that.

As my dad said in one of his last e-mails to me…you can’t negotiate with hostage takers (the hostage taker being ED). He was right. And every time I step on the scale..I am trying to negotiate with ED. Telling ED…okay don’t worry… I will disobey you, but if you are right and my weight jumps up I will come running back to you. And there is just no negotiating. My weight and food need to be non-negotiable things that belong to my N…not something I let ED use to dictate my day. So it’s time to stop negotiations and break free.

I need to take this step of faith…not the step I have taken every morning for so many years…not the step onto the scale…but the step of it. I need to take this step towards my purpose, my freedom, and truly trusting food. 

I am proud of myself for realizing this and praise God for the opportunity. I also praise Him, my friends, my stepmom, and the love I have felt from this blog for allowing me to stay in recovery. 4 days in...and its starting to feel okay...still have work I need to do...but it's getting easier. 

Would love to hear from you all through e-mail, comments, or the form on the side :) 

Day 2...a little tougher but doing it

It’s been very anxiety provoking day, both ED related and just life. But I feel good. Was able to bless someone else today and still was able to smile more today. So just thought I would drop in and share some triumphs as well as my imperfections

I must say though I got to live in the moment today and that felt good. It felt good to experience life outside of food. It was a little overwhelming at times..but also completely joyous at times too.

TRIUMPHS

• I weighed this morning and though the weight was up I was able to be okay with it and even to say it was up such a small amount it didn’t matter. Those of you with ED know how big deal that is. To be able to shrug off any weight increase as not enough to matter.
• I ate a cereal that wasn’t on my healthy list and I didn’t weigh it.
• Again I got the right amount of prunes.
• I got stuck in traffic which caused me to miss the time I would do snack. When I got back to dorm I did snack and lunch together. Normally, ED would have me push my snack till later at night. But I know my N doesn’t want me doing that. This was even scarier than not weighing foods. Eating earlier in the day for some reason freaks me out. I don’t know why…I used to be the never eat past 7pm person and now I get scared if I don’t have anything on meal plan left after 9 pm. It’s strange…
• I didn’t use food scale on tuna or pear at lunch and didn’t spill any seeds. The food scale did creep in on my veggie and on my peas, but that was honestly because my anxiety was so high.
• At dinner I ate a baked potatoe. Funny thing is I smuggled out two from my dining hall so I was debating before dinner whether I would eat the smaller or larger of the two…when I weighed them they were both the same size J So I just ate the one that looked better J And I didn’t cut off any part of it!
• I am not sure if this is triumph…but my founder was slighty under in grams. It was 107 g instead of 113g…and I decided to not freak out. To just take it as normal and move on J
• I ate dried craisins!
• In packing by breakfast for the morning I at first weighed my cereal…but I reclaimed the moment by re-measuring it in cup and not using food scale!
• I counted out 18 almonds for tomorrow and still weighed them…they were 18 instead of my 17 g….and I packed them that way anyway.
• Got right size bagel and right amount of spread.

Room to improve J

I knew recovery wouldn’t be perfect. And it hasn’t been, but I am a heck of a lot better than I have ever been. There are still things I want to change though.

• When I go to the grocery store I want to buy something that looks good without checking stats first. Even if I have to look at numbers I want to wait till I am home to do it.
• I want to be able to go through drive-thru at Starbucks and trust that they made my drink right instead of having to go in and watch them.
• I want to stop using the food scale on breakfast, but I have to talk to my N about how to go about this, because I have been using food scale so long that’s how we have always talked about my prune exchanges.
• I really want more freedom in choosing foods, but honestly at school especially on Sunday nights when dining hall closed I just can’t think of anything except for the same foods I always eat. I sent my N an e-mail about this and I bet we will discuss it Wed.
• I want to be able to take Sunday off and feel good about it.
• I want to eat mustard without counting it towards spread on bagel. 

Recovery Day 1: My moments

You want to know ED's favorite day...tomorrow. I wrote that amazing post yesterday...was feeling motivated...woke up these morning feeling bloated and defeated. Honestly, it was because I had a nightmare last night and was scared to weigh-in. I just knew I would be dissapointed. I also felt guilty because last night I told God I would get in recovery today if my wt was x....same old behavior I always do. I stepped on the scale and the impossible happened. Despite all the freedom I allowed last night my weight was x. I was astonished and immediately didn't want to recover. ED provided plenty of reasons and excuses as to why I could wait till tomorrow. But I stopped. I stopped and remember what I wrote. Then I read an amazing text from my stepmom. 

I stopped..I claimed the moment. I decided enough was enough. There were no more tomorrows. There was just now. And I had to get back in recovery. I needed to live my purpose. I needed to live period. I decided to take today and claim each moment. To claim and live my glorious purposely. 

Honestly..it sucked. A lot of me was and is screaming not to do it. I was constantly thinking about my weight and second guessing every decision. But every time I guess I asked myself which one pushed me to my purpose. Which I would be able to write about on this blog and know it may inspire others. And when I didn’t know the answer, I reached out and asked. And when the answer I got was harder choice…I did that. It's been hard..it's been scary...but it's been worth it. Sure...I don't feel that happy right now...but I feel a heck of a lot better than I did in relapse yesterday. And I do have some joy because I am doing what ED said I couldn't...I am living.

I also did a purge...of everything ED. I threw away all my ED foods. The small bagels I stashed up because I knew they were under the normal size. The diet foods I eat only because ED makes me. The foods ED tells me I can never eat because of x,y,z. But that I don't really want either. I just have them so ED can remind me I can't have them. It felt good…I just cleared it all out. Got rid of all the shadows of ED. And then I claimed my moments. I am going to post my moments today as they happen. It's like a live feed :) 

Breakfast

•  ED has made me keep my prunes at 20g when N wants at 23-24g…I did 23.
• ED wanted me to make sure I overcooked oatmeal so it spilled over the side. I made sure I didn’t.
• ED wanted me to tear my English muffin since it seemed to large. Sadly, I did weigh it and saw it was a few grams larger..but I re-claimed my moment and didn’t tear it or leave any behind. Recovery isn’t perfect, but that’s what makes it beautiful.

Lunch

• I didn’t weigh the following which I usually do: pear, tuna, fiber one cereal
• ED said I could not weigh my pear, as long as made sure I didn’t cut it close to the core. I cut it as close to the core as I could get it.
• ED said I needed to restrict my portions and make sure divets in the measuring cup for cereal and tuna. I made sure it was right to the brim.
• ED said since I was weighing the sweet potato I needed to make sure to restrict the portion. I made sure I weighed it only to ensure I got minimum I needed.
• ED said I couldn’t eat tomatoes I wanted. I got tomatoes.
• ED said I needed to weigh the tomatoes and I did. I weighed the tomatoes to ensure I got the right amount to be a whole cup.
• ED said to spill some of my sunflower seeds like I always do. I made sure every kernel got into my mouth.

Dinner Started to get harder here. Trying not to think about snacks later…

• ED said I needed to weigh peas or skimp them. I measured them and get a full cup..no weight needed.
• ED said only get 3 oz cod. The fish was 3.2 oz and I accepted that and ate it all.
• Ed said I shouldn’t add snack to dinner and should just force myself to eat late. I knew this was a trick so later ED would tell me not to eat snack…so I added snack to dinner.
• ED said since this was snack I just added back I needed to do lower cal yogurt. I chose higher calorie yogurt I wanted.
• For the same reason ED said I needed to weigh my fruit to make sure it was small enough. I didn’t weigh the apple and cut it close to the core. 

Bagel snack

During my relapse ED had me stock up on small bagels. I always planned to use these when I got back in recovery because they would mean less calories. At that point, recovery was still a joke and I hadn’t realized my purpose. God’s purpose. That I mattered. My store mattered. So…crying and shaking I rid myself of all the small bagels and got bigger ones. I still feel disgusted and horrible for this. I desperately want the safety of a smaller bagel, but that is not my purpose. I so much more want to be able to grab a bagel with a friend. To be free…to be normal. I want to be able to tell you all bagels are awesome no matter the size. That it doesn’t matter. So in the moment…I chose my purpose and what I wanted. I did the bigger bagel and the higher-cal spread I wanted. Because size and cals…they can’t rule me anymore. 

Final Snack

This was last snack of night and ED was screaming about how disgusting I am and how fat I would be. Despite this I ate the snack I wanted without thinking calories.

So it's been an exhausting day....and it's time to call it a night. I feel drained, exhausted and ED is screaming. But I know this is what I needed to do...and eventually it won't be this hard. Thanks for being a motivation and inspiration. I hope and pray tomorrow treats me okay.

Found my power

I realized something talking to my stepmom today. I realized I lost my path. Not really lost it…just never really found it.

When I started recovery and had the burning passion in me to fight…it was when I had a vision that my life, my recovery, my story mattered. But somewhere along the way I lost that. I started to recover so I could be a good therapist. That didn’t work. So then I relapsed and tried to recover so I could run. That didn’t work. Relapse. On and on…I cycled through different motivations trying to find the glass slipper that fit: for my education, for Denver, to stay out of inpatient, for my dad, then for my dad’s memory. None of it fit. They kept me motivated for at most a good month…but when faced with the fear of weight gain…they weren’t enough.

You want to know why? Because I figured it out. The reason is. I will never recover until I do it for me. Until I realize once again that my story matters. That I matter. That my life is meant to be a light to others. That my recovery is meant to help others heal. That God put me on this earth for a purpose and it sure as heck wasn’t to live in an eating disorder. This thing is holding me back from my purpose. The misery of this disorder is keeping me from my destiny. It’s making my life nothing more than numbers…and its making it seem like it doesn’t matter. But it does.

My dad tried to speak this into me when he was alive and I would tell him I was “doing this for him.” He kept telling me I have to do it for myself. Well dad you were right. Because at the end of the day..I am all I have.

When ED is yelling in my ear to use a food scale, restrict a portion, skip a fear food…I am the only one there and the only one with the power to do the right thing. My dad isn’t there physically. My family isn’t there. My friends aren’t there. In those moments I could care less about my education, my future, having kids. In those moments not even making God proud can motivate me. I have to do it for me. Because I am all I have in those moments.

So it’s time I realize my life matters. That my life is meant to make an impact. Not my future life. Not my life when I am recovered. But my life now. No matter how disordered it may seem it is meant to make an impact. And every moment…every choice..it can either be a moment/choice to help free someone, or to keep me held captive and to keep hope from being released. If I choose ED I choose to say I have no purpose. That my life is nothing more than numbers. That I can’t make an impact. I choose to lie to myself. To spit on the face of everything my dad tried to instill in me. And I can’t do that. Not any more.

Instead every moment, every choice…I will choose the truth. I will choose to say I matter. My story matters. That moment matters. That moment has power. The power to set this captive free. The power to bring hope. The power to bring healing. The power to change lives. To save lives. I will choose to turn my back on ED.

And I may slip. I am human. But then I will have the choice to let the slip define me and run back to ED, or let the moment define me. The moment right there. The moment that has the choice for me to get back on track. To show I can get knocked down, but won’t stay there. The moment to show recovery isn’t perfect, but that’s what makes it beautiful. That life gets messy, but it’s in the mess we find meaning.

So this is my new take on recovery. My new fight. I’m not fighting for someone else. I’m not fighting for my future. I’m not fighting to escape my past. I am fighting for me..and the power of the moment. 

And by the way. You matter too. Your moment matters too. You have a purpose. A beautiful purpose. You have lives you are going to impact. Lives you are impacting. Every choice you make has the potential to change someone's life. To change your life. To release hope. To release freedom. Claim your moment. Find your freedom. FIGHT!

P.s--I just put this into action as I pressed enter and at the same time dropped my bowl of soup. Instead of just eating the small amount left...I made a new bowl of soup and ate it all. Even though had already taken bites before spilled. This moment mattered. 

ED proven wrong..again..

So I did all those fears yesterday. I ate the baked potato, fought through pain and bloating, did my meal plan, ate freedom foods galore and I was scared. Beyond scared. I can’t even tell you all the names ED was calling me last night. The angry, horrible things he was whispering in my ear as I tried to fall asleep. I cried out to the Lord. Literally, sobbing, crying…just asking for peace. And I fell asleep.

I woke up in sheer panic because I knew I had to take the march ED makes me take every morning. The march to the scale. This is one thing that will be going when I get back fully into recovery. But for now..I still took the march. As much as I didn’t want to believe the horrible things ED was telling me, as much as I woke up and for the first time in forever felt small and thin….I kept believing what ED was saying. That I had gained a ton overnight, that I was huge, that I was disgusting for eating last night. And I marched to the scale….ready for him to be right. I prayed to God before. I prayed that he let me cope with the huge gain I was about to be greeted with.

I stepped on the scale shaking with fear. I clenched my eyes tight while keeping them wide enough to see the numbers…the numbers that were…DOWN? What? Could it be! My mind exploded, heart exploded….excitement took me over. The pride I longed for last night. I had done the right thing and ED was wrong? Could it be!

I stepped on the scale over and over and the same lower number flashed on the screen. It was the most freeing amazing experience. Sure…ED kept yelling at me today…but I did something I haven’t done before…not even when the numbers go down. I told ED he was wrong. I said to him “You were wrong last night. You have been wrong before. I am choosing to trust whatever my N says. I am choosing to trust the guidelines she set. They were right last night and I want to see them be right again.”

So for today when ED yelled I couldn’t eat oatmeal as one starch because of the high calories that would make me gain I told him he said the same about the potato last night and was wrong. I told him I was going to listen to my N and count it right. I ate oatmeal as one starch.

When ED said I couldn’t eat dinner early because I was too full and shouldn’t eat it at all with how full and lazy I was I told him he said the same thing last night and again was wrong. I ate dinner early and even enjoyed it.

When ED said I should restrict my topping on bagel because I had gum, I told him he said the same thing yesterday with bagel topping and was wrong. I told him gum didn’t count because N says didn’t count and I ate right topping.

When ED said I couldn’t eat a Cutie instead of a pear because more calories I told him all fruits are equal and I told him he said the same thing as to why I couldn’t eat fiber tortilla day before vs corn tortilla and was wrong. I ate the Cutie and didn’t even tear it like ED wanted.

So here is to believing in something other than ED. Letting the facts be used against ED instead of to support him. I have trusted him my whole life. Trusted him for comfort, peace, and even sometimes weight loss that never came. I never was happy. I never felt thin. I was just miserable.

Last night I trusted God, my N, my friends….and they turned out right. And tonight..tonight I am trusting them again. It’s time to give Truth a chance.