I hereby go cold turkey, in the name of health and well being.
I go cold turkey from allowing the reactions of others, as it pertains to my body, to affect my thoughts, my actions, and therefore my quality of life. I go cold turkey from avoiding the Yoga Housewives like the plague, just because they no longer comment upon my “thin” body and question of what I’ve “been doing to look so good.” I go cold turkey from allowing the looks, the glances, the commentary of any human being but myself to make me feel inadequate.
Exactly two years, four months, and six days ago, I ceased an 11-year relationship with Bulimia Nervosa. Declaring Independence from Great Bulimia, I went cold turkey, turning off, like a switch, the bad behaviours of bingeing and purging, destining a formerly vibrant room, one of calories, vomit, and laxatives, for eternal darkness. This led to the highest quality of life that I’ve known to date.
Today, my “caring-what-others-think-about-my-body” switch, deactivated, has lent itself to a world of lightness. ‘Tis a life that I intend to live passionately, infused with my Type A perfectionist personality, for every single breathing moment of my remaining years. Rather than using my perfectionism against me, I hereby vow to use my perfectionism for me.
Dinners, although featuring Daiya Vegan Shreds, have been more whole, inspired by “Not Bored Now” who commented, “…I ask this not to be nasty, how many of your meals are turning out to be bars like Nugo bars? Please please consider getting rid of those. 200 calories of bar will not fill you up the same way that 200 calories of beans, rice and kale will. I say these things knowing what it’s like to feel hungry.”
Other Gorgeous Comments at ‘Fat and Food‘
By BBFF – “You are the queen of figuring it out, and you will. You are also the queen of being successful, and you will be. I’m with you, though. I feel like my brain is a broken record and it get’s really old sometimes.”
By Bianca – “You’re a businesswoman. You’re a writer. You’re exceptionally beautiful. You are a devoted furmother. You have a LIFE that exists outside of the shell that you hate. I am one hundred and fifteen percent certain that I could never convince you that you’re as beautiful as the world thinks you are, and I won’t try to do that. But I do think that you shouldn’t trouble yourself with things that are ultimately of no consequence other than fleeting personal affirmation.”
By Anna Banana – “I’m not going to tell you that you aren’t fat because it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. It only matters what you think. You did something really amazing-you stopped purging. And you did it all on your own. And you can do this. Stop whining and do the work. You know what you have to do. Do it.”
By Deanna - ”Long time reader, but I have never commented until now. I have never suffered from an ED, but I do suffer from negative body image. What you described is the way that I feel every day. I push my body to the limits, doing personal training and bootcamp 6 to 7 days a week. I dabble in yoga and running as well. I have tried all the diets, weight watchers, atkins, etc., and even at my lowest weight I still hated myself. I am at an average weight for someone who is 30 years old and 5’2″, but it will never be good enough. It is those rare moments that I do like myself that keep me going. You are a strong and determined woman, and you can accomplish any goal you set your mind to. Head up.”
By Maria – “…My dad used to call me ‘bubble-butt’ growing up–not all the time, but just once is enough with a comment like that. Never enormous, but always of the sturdy type. I started weight-lifting a year ago and the weight that matters now is on the end of my barbell, generally speaking. I made some diet changes, but I have to eat to lift what I want. Anyway, like I mentioned before, I went from a size 8 to a 4 doing all this. I thought I would be estatic at a 4, but I’m not? But today I noticed my jeans were a little looser and walking by a window I caught my reflection and screamed ‘YES!’ on the inside cuz I’m looking fantastic at what I’m estimating is a size 3.5. And it’s stupid because it is and I’m angry at myself for caring about such a dumb thing.”
By Françoise – “…I strongly believe that the inner beauty we start seeing spiritually will allow us to start seeing beauty in our experience, including in ourselves. It does not mean being fat but pretending we’re not and pretending to love our reflection. What a hypocrisy! No, it means that as we start seeing beauty as something that is part of our being, our experience literally changes, and yes, our bodies even start conforming to our individual idea of beauty…”
By Liz of MyCrazyLife – “I am right there with you on the quest for personal perfection… You don’t need to see a nutritionist because at this point there is no information that they could tell you that you don’t already know. Same with any other ‘professional’ help that people mistakenly think you need. Sometimes you just need a pretty dress, fabulous heels, and a martini to brighten your day.”
I have implemented Liz’s counsel:
Gwendolyn continued to do her own thing, unbothered by any of this.
In the next two months, I am adding a division to my business, I am moving, and I am growing my blog. There are much bigger fish to fry than impressing the yoga housewives. And, I shall, indeed, fry that fucking fish, compassionately, as a vegan.
To what extreme do you care of how others interpret your appearance?
© Nicole Marie Story Enterprises, LLC and nicoleandgwendolyn.com, 2011, 2012.
Sometimes I think I should have been born a black woman. That would explain my overwhelming urge to scream YOU GO GIRL! AMEN SISTA! after reading this post.
I just awoke from a dream about a black woman!!!!!!!!!
Great attitude! :P
I have to agree about the 200 calories of vegetables thing. 200 calories of vegetables does not equal those in a bar, the former being much much more filling and satisfying :)! I do love my energy bars though, but I only expect them to keep my hunger at bay for no more than two hours.
Are you moving to New York? And how do you like the Secret Fan book? I saw the movie and liked it!
You are my little scientist cheerleader! I love your comment!
Yes, since kicking my stubborn butt into gear after reading Not Bored Anymore’s recommendation, I analysed my existing very busy life, realising that bars are perfect for breakfast and lunch (I’ve taken to the Earnest Bar despite its gluten as of late, Nugo always of course!); but the dinners have been more whole. Instead of eating the plant based chicken, I am doing lots of vegetables. I shall still have my chicken, but I swear to God that I feel deflated and thinner after just a few days of cleaner eating.
Am I moving to New York? The location is a big secret, as I am still uncertain for another five days. ;)
And how do I like the Secret Fan book? I must admit that my martinis have been more intimate with the book than I have been. It’s been sitting on my nightstand for months, yet I always retreat to the same reading pleasure when time allows: Atlas Shrugged.
Mwah!
I’m standing and applauding you, right now, in my living room, in my pajamas! I’m so happy you are discarding all the negative nay-saying as it pertains to YOUR body : ) The next 2 months sound like an exciting time for you. Growth is lifelong if you’re doing it right, and you are, my friend!!!!
I love you, my friend!!!!!!!!!
Who designs your pajamas? You strike me a P.J. Salvage kind of gal. I totally am.
I currently need these: .Scooter Stars.
Love those! I’ve never purchased anything from P.J. Salvage, but I’m looking at the site now! I’m currently wearing pajamas from the haute couture masters…The Gap!!!!!!! : D
I also like the little bow tie shorts with spaghetti strapped tank top!
The pants that I wore in my last article, Fat and Food, are from last year’s PJ Salvage Christmas dog collection.
Mwah!
I will always see skinny when I see you. Good for you for not paying attention to others opinions or waiting for approval from others. Would you believe my mom is constantly judging my appearance and she lives in Chicago. I guess to her I look Morbidly Obese since my younger brother lives in Chicago and has gym in his building and exercise centers at his disposal when he is away for work. I may not be the perfect weight and I haven’t been in a very long time, I bulked up in the gym in College and years after so my legs and chest aren’t flat, I have extra muscle. For some reason that doesn’t matter. I see my mom a few times a year and I always have to listen to a critique of my appearance and she wonders why we always end up fighting at some point each visit.
Wow. Double damn wow.
Thank you for contributing this!
Oh man, how important. Most of my commenters are female, so it’s really great to get a male’s perspective on this subject matter.
Yes, my house turns into WWIII at family gatherings over the weight commentary. Not just about my weight. But that of my sisters and my cousins and my aunts and even my uncles! My grandmothers. Everyone!!!
So next time you’re in your mom’s presence? When she makes a comment, just stare back at her, blankly.
That’s what I plan to do when faced with ignorance.
Thank You Dear!! Did I mention she and her family are all crazy Liberals in Chicago so I am hated for not being one of them also! I’m a shame to my family!
Nicole! Finally taking what you want out of life! I’m so, so happy for you for finally just DOING IT and grabbing what you want instead of just “hoping and dreaming” for it. You’re going to love NYC!!
I think you are being sarcastic! And because I’m in such a fabulous mood, I don’t give a fuck!
Haha!
Actually, I know that you are being sarcastic because I never hope and dream.
Do I look like Obama?
Mother fucker!!! ;)
Yeah, I was teasing you with the “hope and dream” part, haha. But seriously, I AM happy for you for moving to NYC, and living your dream. Seriously.
Thank you. I appreciate your honesty, and I feel that my “mother fucker” was un-classy. I should have used something less abrasive, something like “fucking bitch.” I don’t know why, but mother proceeding fucker sounds like something they’d say on the street corner in the Bronx circa 1988. That’s not me. I don’t do street corners. Why do you assume that by “moving” I mean to New York?
well i hadn’t read your blog in a while (like, six months maybe? i don’t remember) until the other day, and when i used to read you were always talking about moving to the city, and now you said you’re moving, so i just assumed. obviously i’m a little out of the loop! sorry about that, and have fun wherever it is you’re going!
Okay, then. My apologies (and I rarely apologise). I just assumed that you were one of the nasty vultures who attack me daily! Thank you for reading and for remembering my love of New York. :)
I won’t wish you good luck, because that feels patronizing. Maybe I’ll just wish you better luck than I have. I have no problems with strangers of friends who comment on me, because I just find that rude and weird. But my family? Jesus. Ignoring their comments is next to impossible for me. They just make my adrenal glands explode.
I love that you haven’t wished me luck!
And I hate that you know that awful feeling about family! Have you ever read my article, Walking on Eggshells? If not, please do!
And then make your own commitment to having your brain tell them to screw off. Now. Tomorrow. Whenever it’s right for you.
After you leave the family, you only have one judge and that is yourself. This is what I’ve realised after thinking hard over the past few days since writing Fat and Food. I find that when I am less people pleasing, I am more successful… and that goes for maintaining a gorgeous firm tight lean and long body. Because that is success, is it not? :)
xoxoxo
Ah ah! When I was in re-feeding phase and looked deformed in my body, I got comments all the time such as, “are you pregnant”, “wow you look so different from your usual self, “oh, what happened”. etc etc. It KILLED me softly every time, and I would go home and threaten to commit suicide. Am I better nowadays? Yes. As long as I am consistent with my workout program, I feel confident that I look the best I can. It takes too much energy out of me to worry about how people perceive my appearance. Plus I feel that I have different physical standards from most people anyway, so why should their opinion matter? Now, I have to say I was triggered yesterday. Someone whom I told I had done one hour 40 of cardio (my average every day 7 days a week) told me, “oh, that’s not too much, I think that’s fine”. After his reply, I thought, “hmm, maybe I should work out 2 hours a day from now on”. Gee.
I love your post. You are moving forward, you are taking control of your life, and your eats look so yummy! Those mushrooms and organic cheese!!!!!!!!! And yes, I agree, a bar will never taste as good as a plate of roasted veggies – plus the veggies will keep you satisfied and happy and you will feel that you are nourishing your body, rather than giving it cardboard. :)
I love you!
Francoise
Oh! How I love thee! Let me count the ways!
Isn’t it funny that I love more people that I’ve never met (in person) than I do people whom I’ve met (in person)?
LOL!
It’s really really really nice to be friends with a person who gets it. And through it all? You’ve maintained your love of fashion and of the tiny frame, as have I. We have such a connection on this.
I didn’t mention this in my article, but after Not Bored Anymore made that comment, I was compelled to buy a toaster oven. The big oven is just so huge and Thanksgiving-like to me, and it completely repulses me. So I needed something tiny and sprite-like to prompt the creation of gorgeous concoctions. I chose the Custom Classic by Cuisinart. And I’m totally in love with it. Totally vegan. Never touched by meat. Never touched by man. Only by a pretty girl named Nicole. :)
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Ok, so I have a question, and it is NOT meant to be snarky. It seems that when you are criticized, you take on a “Screw them, I’m going to do what makes ME happy” attitude, which I think is great. However, I’ve read time and time again that when COMPLIMENTED (told you are looking “good”, “healthy”, etc., or, like Francoise’s comment, that there is nothing wrong with working out 1 hour 40 minutes a day) you (“you” being you and Francoise, since I referenced her comment) ALSO seem to take offense. It translates to you’re not thin enough if people think you look good, or your workout isn’t good enough if someone doesn’t take issue with it. It seems that no one can win. If you look good, it means you’re fat. If your workout seems reasonable, you want to do more. It’s just incredibly confusing to me.
Lindsey, Your comment so powerful! You’ve made perfect sense. And when presented in this fashion, it does seem as though Francoise and I (and the rest of the mafia) are pretty screwed up, haha. So without getting all deep on you, I will just ask you this…
Say you lost a LOT of weight, bringing you down to an obsession of maintaining that lower weight, not even to a point of anorexia, just a point at which you felt really good about yourself. The skinniest, leanest, tiniest little sprite in town. And then you started eating, packing about 15 to 20 pounds onto your recently, previously very small frame. Francoise’s case it was to become well, moving away from a state of anorexia. My case it was into bulimic territory. (See: Deception in Pictures). It is my fullest belief that if anyone commented upon your weight, you would be sensitive about it. Or am I wrong?
Add into it for Francoise that she has an extreme fear of fat. Add into my experience the fear of fat / failure with overeating and vomiting and laxative abuse.
If you were so happy at the lower weight but found it impossible to maintain that weight and someone said, “Wow, you are looking healthy, Lindsey” would you interpret healthy to be something good to YOU? Or something more like a failure?
Or would you not give a fuck?
It’s LindsAy, for the record :) Because my adult weight has only fluctuated by about 20/25 pounds (weight I gained around the time I was diagnosed w/ PCOS), I am not sure how I would feel. I’ve never lost a dramatic amount of weight because I’ve never needed / wanted to. Compliments are tricky for me. Typically, if someone says they like an outfit I am wearing, or something like that, I feel the need to point out a flaw. Example: “I love that skirt! It looks great!”…”Thanks…it has this small stain over here, though.” I’ve made a conscious effort to stop doing that, and to accept compliments. If someone is complimenting me, it means they truly like whatever they are complimenting. People don’t NEED to compliment someone else, so most of the time I believe them to be genuine. Now, I just try to graciously say thank you. In your case, I would hope that someone complimenting your body would be interpreted as them truly thinking you look good. It doesn’t mean they think you look good in comparison to anyone / anything else – it simply means that in that moment, they think you look good. I just cannot comprehend turning this into “Oh my goodness…they think I’m fat”. On the other hand, if people I cared about seemed concerned about any dramatic change in my appearance / lifestyle, I would hope that I would examine myself to see if there was something real to their concerns. You, on the other hand, seem to take criticism as an indication that you are doing something right, and compliments as an indication that you are doing something wrong. It’s all twisted (in comparison to my own thinking). Another example…and I know I’m rambling: My first boyfriend was a douchebag, only I didn’t know it. But my family DID know it, and constantly told me that he sucked. I didn’t want to be “wrong”, so I kept dating him for almost two years…but you know what? They were so, so right. So I guess my conclusion is that I don’t give a fuck if stranger x, y, or z has to say something negative about me or my life, although I will humbly accept genuine compliments. If someone close to me expresses concern over something I am doing, though, I try to stop being defensive and see if there is truly a cause for their concern. Ugh..did that make ANY sense? I tried!
I read your capital A and needed to take a break from reading and responding because I cannot freaking believe that I fucked up your name. That is a huge thing for me! Names are so important and getting them right is a sign of respect. And I was the second grade spelling bee champion. So this is one of the few times in my life that I shall offer apology because I truly was wrong! I am sorry! And I ‘hope’ that you shall forgive.
That said, I think you raised a very interesting point. As it pertains to weight and body and fitness and such, I do, indeed, more often than not, interpret criticism as compliment and compliment as criticism (unless it’s a yoga housewife complimenting on how skinny I’ve become). Unlike you, though, with pointing something out (or wanting to) such a flaw with the skirt, I simply conduct the aside conversation in my head. Whilst smiling and behaving politely, my brain is sounding the bells and whistles, creating the new Project Lollipop or Project Rail Thin. Eventually, I calm down, like I have depicted with this particular article.
This blog represents only a minute fraction of my life. So, one only really sees the criticism as it pertains to diet, fitness, and dogs. I think that it only seems that I disagree with each piece of blog criticism simply because my blog critics maintain a completely different philosophy. Or else they would not be my critics, right?
In any case, I shall now be more conscientious of my reactions; and I shall try like hell not to get mad when someone says that I look “good” or “healthy.” Thank you, Lindsay.
I dare hope you are moving to Seattle. ;) That’s OK if you’re not. But I am allowed to hope.
:):):)
!!!!!!!!!
I shall email you with details!!!
OMG PLEASE!?!?!?!
I think that I have more friends in Seattle than I do in Pittsburgh!!!
You’re welcome! And apology accepted.
WHOOO YOU sassy little sex kitten! I am so happy to hear you are going to put this thought process into effect. You know it isn’t permanent, and if you get scared along the way and have thoughts where you DO care what others think..THAT IS NORMAL!! In fact that’s how it is for me. 90% of my days I hold my head high and think, “bitched be jealous of my strong bod.” 10% I am hormonal and hate the world, but that is normal! You are gorgeous, your bod is gorgeous, and whatever you put INTO your body is what you will get OUT of it. KEEP the food clean and balanced (for me that means cookies at times, for you a glass of wine.) We will always care what we look like..as we should because when we let ourselves go that is where health problems rise from! LOVE YOU!
Oh wow!
What perfect advice, Brittany. Absolutely positively perfect advice. Your cookies are, indeed, my wine! And girlfriend, with the aforementioned, do we have a fun time! :D
Thank you for this, truly.
And I love you, too. :) xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
I used to care one Hell of a lot what others thought of my appearance. I still do, but in a slightly different context. When I was 11, I vividly remember having a panic attack while I was out shopping with my Mum because I was convinced people were staring at me. For years I would not go out on my own because I believed I was so ugly and fat that someone would attack me physically or verbally due to my appearance. To try to remedy this I became (believe it or not) a designer clothing snob. I was obsessed with ‘names,’ with fashion and with wearing the most expensive clothes I could afford because I thought people would notice the outfit, and not the hideous person underneath. I was a complete brat and if I was my parents now, I would have slapped my younger self round the face. But they did not; they were so dedicated towards doing anything to make me happy. Perhaps that is one of the many reasons why I never buy new clothes now, unless my running gear literally falls apart.
Now I still care that people think I look like a runner. Presently that isn’t very likely, but I want to be associated with the sport I love, I want my appearance to reflect the amount of effort I put into training. However, to an extent I do not care whether my desire to be marathon-runner lean disgusts other people, because I know it’s not an aesthetic that seems to be very popular. So to an extent I have moved on, because I’ve formed my own ideas about how I want my body to look, rather than being worried about how others tell me it ‘should’ look.
Veggies with Daiya look like a sublime dinner, I must say! I’m glad you’re making your own decisions based on personal goals now – the yoga housewives were beneath you anyway. They were never worth your time.
xxx
Your comment has conjured so many memories in my head, things that definitely belong in my book (in progress)!!!
So, we are more alike than we thought coming into this day.
First off, you were once obsessed with designer clothing. Check.
Second off (pulling out the “crazy”), I was once obsessed with the prospect of people thinking horrid things about me, as a child, like were you. As a child (less than nine years of age), I was absolutely convinced that spiders and bugs were crawling all over my body. So, in old home videos, one shall observe me flicking off the (imaginary) bugs of subject. And once I became aware of boys (second grade), I was convinced that whomever I had a romantic crush upon, well, their name would be scribbled onto my facial cheeks. In old home videos, one shall observe me looking in the mirror, blowing my cheeks into bubbles like blowfish, examining each and every bit of skin, ensuring that the boys’ name was not scribbled upon the cheek.
I remember viewing these a few years ago when I transferred the images to DVD for a xmas gift for my parents, and I said, “WHAT THE FUCK.” I asked my mother about my observations, and she confirmed my suspicions. As an adult, I had thought these behaviours were all a dream. Apparently not.
How did that level of perfectionism / caring what other people thought / what have you translate into my current mindset?
It’s all perfectionism.
Not an eating disorder. Not a sexual disorder. Not any disorder. Just perfectionism, playing its head into every bit of my life, into your life, I believe, too.
Unless the DSM can create some kind of mongered disease called, “Blowfish Cheek Disease,” it’s just perfectionism.
LOL.
Oh, I love you! It seems that I love you, Cassy, Françoise, and Brittany who have thus far commented at this article.
I swear, I do not love many humans in this world, but you all are LOVED.
Waiting for Sonja to comment, and I shall be happy. :)
This is really sad.
What is really sad?
So disordered thinking has been part of your life since early childhood. Actually, knowing this, I’m impressed that, broken as you are, you function as well as you currently do.
Why is my thinking considered as “disordered?”
it’s really sad that I have not commented yet, right huh? Sorry if I’m late, my little monster absorbs a lot of my time right now. Let me start with a: “fuck yeah”. Just as your previous post reflects how I feel about myself on my bad days, this one speaks to the happy-go-getter I am on my good days. For me it seems it’s only when I stop caring about what others think, I can start really achieving (like during the previous summer). But I always seem to lose that feeling somewhere along the way. But you are so much stronger than me, promise that you will reread your words right here whenever you start doubting. Your veggie dish looks so good. Have you ever considered adding some legumes or beans as unprocessed vegan proteïn source? I love chickpeas (sprouted raw not so much, but baked, o my gosh – I for instance adore following recipe from o she glows: http://ohsheglows.com/recipage/?recipe_id=6002023) I always thought I would hate beans and the like, but exploring within the vegan register I was amazed how good they actually are.
And pleeeeaaase, forget NY, forget Seattle, do it right the first time. Move to Paris, you can take a train to the UK and I’ll be only a four hour drive away. Our pug(gel)s will be able to meet underneath the Eiffel tower for Valentine’s :-) (beneath, not on top, because I’m afraid of heights)
I love you! X
Dear Sonja, I, too, am afraid of heights!!! Gwendolyn, three!!! Something tells me that Indie shall be afraid of heights, too. So meeting under the Eiffel Tower for Valentine’s would be such a gorgeous spin on “An Affair to Remember” / “Sleepless in Seattle” and would make for fantastic blog reporting! Your comment is so inspiring and energetic, and now you have the reels in my head a-turning! Oh, I do like roller coasters, btw, because they are moving. But the ferris wheel? No way, José.
I have not ever dabbled in legumes or beans because they just have always stricken me as too time consuming to prepare. Believe me, what you see on that final version is missing a mushroom or two because my grubby hands pop a few when I turn-over the concoction in the toaster oven. I know you relate. :D
And I am not stronger than you. Sometimes the bitch own it mentality comes across as stronger. I think we are both strong chicks with adorable pugs; and we are finding our place in the world and in our bodies.
I love you!!! x x x
Oh! I forgot to add that I shall be reviewing that legumes/beans link and doing some incorporation! I was a Heinz canned baked beans girls back in the vegetarian days. Would eat it directly from the can. :D Thank you for referencing Oh She Glows. Definitely high quality.
Given that the dogs you care for are all located in suburban Pittsburgh, I would assert that you are spinning up your little impressionistic tribe just to hear them squee. The plan is more likely to move a block east or something rather than to some other city. Unless you are moving back home with your folks, which could be quite entertaining, especially if daddy chooses to oink again.
Ha. I haven’t lived with my folks since February of 2001 and shan’t again unless they needed extraordinary on site assistance and could not afford compassionate service. So fuck you, Just Some Guy. You’ve just lost my respect and considerate replies.
Does this mean there’ll be no more “skinny dick” comments? Awwwwwwww….crushed.
That comment was not in reply to you.
I would never speak in such tongue to a man.
My trash talk is reserved for the girlfriends.
I’m interested in hearing more about the changes in your business as well as updates on your move!
You shall absolutely receive updates in the foreseeable future!
Thank you for being interested in my developments!
I’ve always considered myself to be quite the boring person, so I feel like an interesting person when readers make such comments. That’s a lovely feeling, as much as I can experience ‘feelings.’ :)
If you didn’t have feelings, you wouldn’t let people’s opinions about your body freak you out to the point that you have to punish yourself by restricting and overexercising. Why keep pretending to be some Ayn Rand -bot instead of doing the work to become a self-actualized adult with a true and consistent sense of self? You don’t have to live in this state of turmoil. It doesn’t have to be like this. There is help in getting over abuse, trauma, and body hatred. If you think all talk therapists are socialists (which I know you know deep down is ludicrous), try EMDR. If you think talk therapy is all sitting passively in a chair while a socialist spouts socialism at you (also ludicrous, but I’m attempting to work with your belief system here), you’ll love EMDR. You yourself do all the hard work, and I know you live hard work because MittRomneyFoxNewsAtlasShrugged. It can get better. You can have a real life, with real relationships and thoughts about something other than food.
Bahahahahahahaha.
Hi, Fiona.
Breaking from looterville, eh?
Nope, not Fiona, Sarah in NYC. I thought you checked IPs! You’ll find mine’s from Time Warner Cable in Manhattan. Happy to meet you when you move here and introduce you to a group of women who recovered from EDs and are now living our dreams in the city I know you’ve been dreaming of for a long time. I wish nothing but the best for you here.
I do.
But I’m mobile and busy.
You do…check IPs? And you saw mine’s from NYC and got Australia out of that? Hmmm, okay. My name’s really Sarah and I’m really American, but I guess in this like all things you’ll believe whatever your imagination comes up with. At any rate, enjoy your move to my great city, and may you someday choose to do the real work for which do many would salute you and give you positive rather than negative attention. The world is so much better when you allow it to become bigger than your ED.
I do not check IPs when I am mobile because the mobile version of WordPress does not provide that information. I could venture into desktop mode, but I do not care enough about you and other looter medical mongering comments to engage into such action. Why do you assume that I am moving to YOUR great city? If New York is my city of choice, then it shall not be known as YOURS. It is Carrie Bradshaw’s. Bitch. ;)
What’s really wonderful about NYC is that it belongs to all its citizens, although I’m fairly sure Carrie Bradshaw isn’t a real person. And the reason I thought you were moving here is that you said in an earlier post you were moving here in February. I’m so sorry you feel that people who encourage you to get the treatment that helped us have lives worth living are bitches. I understand your anger and denial, though — being sick and addicted is exhausting, and change is terrifying. But it’s worth it. I wish you courage, kindness, and most of all, peace. Recovery is real and worth it.
I like that you ignore my platform, just as I ignore yours.
You are my polar opposite and preach to the other choir, just like I preach to yours, without even recognising that what they think or do could be perfect for them.
So I appreciate your zest, as much as I imagine you to be crying in a big baby recovery ball in your New York apartment at day’s end.
That said, what I love about New York is that one is surrounded by life whilst maintaining anonymity. It is so exciting and vibrant! And the Wall Street men are f-i-n-e.
Why would you assume that I cry at the end of the day? I find that fascinating. I cried a lot when I was where you are — terrified of recovery and clinging to my ED. Here’s what I did last night: I went out to dinner with a friend, then hung out in the lovely hotel where the organization I work for had put me up. Want to know what I was doing? Speaking on a panel about the need for insurance reform for ED treatment! No kidding! So yesterday afternoon, after the panel, I sat with two young women who had very different recovery stories, but who are both now back in school finishing educations interrupted by EDs. They’re now doing what you used to claim to want to do — talk to others, in a positive manner, about the different ways a person can recover from an ED. They didn’t call anyone a looter or a bully or a monster or any of the other hurtful and damaging names you call people; instead, they genuinely helped them. I fell asleep happy and hopeful last night. And on Saturday night I had a date with the guy I love and fell asleep in his arms, so no crying there. On Friday night I went to an aerial yoga class and then to a screening of a good friend’s new film. I know you need to think that everyone in recovery is some miserable socialist who cries all the time, but that’s simply not how it is. Can you use your powers of critical thinking and try to see that some people who are not anorexic, alcoholic Republicans are actually really happy?
Ah, this explains it all.
You are a socialist ED recovery representative.
I applaud you for your passion.
PS: You sound like Demi Moore’s character in, “A Few Good Men” when she spouts off her resume to Tom Cruise, attempting to convince him of her fabulousness. LOL!
Nope, not a socialist and not particularly fabulous! Just a regular person who used to be unhappy, then got the right treatment and now has a pretty good life. You can have it too.
I already do have “it”. Thank you very much.
Great! Then I expect I’ll see you in NYC, see your book on the shelves, and read about how you’ve quit drinking soon!
Hahahaha.
You’re like a (seemingly) non-looting Fiona.
I like your condescending implication of “quit drinking soon.”
Seriously, if you want to be of any value here, then you must not try to be such a ‘former bulimic’ or ‘former anorexic’ smart aleck. (my bet’s on the bulimia bit).
Can you do that? Or are you too type A perfectionist “I am recovered la de da da” to make kind concessions?
I love that you think that! Fiona strikes me as soneone who’s trying really hard to get well and be compassionate toward you, no matter how hideous you are to her. I give her nothing but respect. You, on the other hand, are one of the meanest, most rage-filled, most insecure folks I’ve ever seen in all my years on the internet. Here’s what I’ve noticed about every single person I’ve ever known who truly does have a good life: they’re kind. They show compassion. They don’t name-call or bully. When someone expresses concern for them, they respond graciously, not with “looter” or “monger” or “bitch.” I even know a recovered person who’s a Rand-loving Republican, and she’s nice to other people too! When people act like you do, it’s because they’re broken and hurting. You can call things pretty all day long, but your behavior SCREAMS “unhappy.” So if you really want to pull off the “everything’s great” charade you’re working so hard to convey, I’m afraid you’re going to have to at least start pretending to be a decent human being.
Wow. This shit sounds good enough for the national national inquirer. Or even teen bop. You are very talented. ;)
Sarah, you are awesome! Recovery is real. I would love to talk to you about recovery from EDs and hear about your work. Click on my website and it will give you my e-mail.
Angela,
You remind me of a Disney princess.
The wrinkled understudy.
This is a late reply, but I just felt like I had to add: Sarah, everything you’ve said is smart, compelling, and most of all, delivered with care and concern rather than hatred and snark. It’s a pity that Nicole is only blowing you off and only using hatred and snark, but your replies have made me understand why she does so. From a fellow New Yorker–congrats on the happiness you’ve earned!
I remembered the day I decided to not care about what others thought anymore. So liberating! I felt so free! I hope so much that you feel these thing too, my darling!
Miss Pistachio, I respectfully want to know, for the record, for how long did you actually care about what others thought? I know that you’ve mentioned your anorexia and bulimia being short lived. So I do not want to discount your “I remembered the day” because that day is important to all of us; but I want to know exactly how much oomph existed behind the caring. Do you think that tenure with the ED matters? Or do you think that once bitten by the ED bug, it’s equal across the board for all in terms of caring?
I’m not completely sure that adding a “division” to your “company” these days is a good idea. After all we are under Socialism now and that would mean that any extra income you might generate would simply be ripped from your grasp and redistributed to good-for-nothing lazy looters! However, since a “division” implies creation of a bevy of new jobs, it probably would provide annup-tick in your stock on the Dow. What’s your ticker symbol again?
I love your attention.
Why are you interested in EDs?
Were you googling ED for men and it queried my site?
Bahahha ;)
Is that what you consider yourself, an “ED”? How sad.
DO I consider myself “an ED?”
I shall refer you to my article, Individual: An Autobiography, which provides answer to that question.
Now what have you learnt, class? Do I consider MYSELF “an ED”?
And you didn’t answer my question, JSG, were you searching the acronym for Erectile Dysfunction to stumble upon my page?
Oh good God! I’ve been refraining from commenting, but this is too much! We are not “under socialism.” Please educate yourself before you spout nonsense, Just Some Guy.
angela you’re an idiot.
Hahahaha! Am currently disputing the price of maitake (sp) mushrooms @ the grocery customer service, and this comment made me lol! I concur. :D
Why so rude?
Dear Angela, little blockhead, anorexic in “recovery” and flourishing journalist (LOL), Just Some Guy plays for your socialist field. It is now clear of why you suck at your trade. ;)
My apologies, Just Some Guy. I missed your sarcasm.
Angela, stay on GOMI and stop embarrassing yourself. I cringe whenever I see your comments on here.
Ditto!!!
Triple ditto!!!!
She embarrasses herself on GOMI as well.
She’s an ED investigative reporter, didn’t you know? Cut her some slack, bitches. ;)
: D
Cassy, I think you are the one that embarrasses herself on GOMI. I see that they have driven you away…not a little thin-skinned, are we?
Haha, nice try sweet pea…I left those ugly, ugly negative cats…didn’t you hear? http://www.soulthumpingblog.com/soul_thumping_blog/2012/10/goodbye-cat-ladies-youll-be-women-soon.html
I’m thicker skinned than the entire lot of them, especially you. Oh, that, and I have a life : )
Elena, when is the last time you’ve seen me comment on here? Not for months, not even when Nicole viciously attacked Missy and Fiona. Stop exaggerating.
I think my actual thoughts would take too much time and space, so I usually refrain. But!!! I have always struggled with worrying of what others thought, felt about me, wanted for me, etc etc….and I have spent far far far! (3 fars!) too much time trying to understand and or please these same people…So,
That being said, you doing and know what is best for you, regardless of what others feel or think is wonderful and amazing…. You have to do what you think is right for you always….Sometimes it’s hard but it’s the truth! Doesn’t mean we don’t care for others or how they feel, but in the long run we have to make do for ourselves…
I’m not even sure if I’m making sense but I hope you understand!!!
Many many xoxoxoxoxo’s at you honey, ROCK ON!!!!!
You made absolute complete sense! And it’s funny, I don’t do things such as inhibit my expression (ahem, this very public and locally known blog) for the sake of masking my true self with the image of Emily Post. I say and do what I want. When I want. How I want, so long as it’s ethically legal. But I execute those opinions and thoughts in a state of perfection. Always. Because at day’s end, if I am not perfect, then I am not anything of value. So that translates to fat and of how others perceives my body. If my body is perceived as being the most attractive, if I earn the most compliments, then I am a success. Now I’ve set-up a new challenge for me. To be perfect in this new challenge, I must adhere to the cold turkey platform that I’ve established and described through this post, the rule that mandates NOT caring about what others think of my fat. And if I deviate, then I fail the perfectionism test. And I do not fail. xoxoxo
Oooooooooooo. Touche! Alcohol brings out your wicked sense of humor.
A martini, wouldn’t that be lovely!!!
Currently it’s coconut mocha coffee by the Donut Shop for the Keurig.
Who cares if Nicole attacked Missy and Fiona? What does that have to do with you? I don’t read Fiona’s posts on GOMI because she is seriously disturbed and nonsensical. I really think she should GOMI. As for Missy, I can’t even bring myself to snark on her. Sad, Very sad.