Snowball Effect

As I turned on my computer today I realized that it had been a while since I had been on Pinterest. (Because Pinterest is totally lame these days.)

So I logged on to Pinterest and the first thing I saw was a picture of a hamburger that someone recently pinned.

I clicked on picture of said burger because, well, it's a picture of a delicious hamburger. Of course I am going to click on it.

But do you know who eats hamburgers? People do, that's who.

Consequently, clicking on the picture of a hamburger then led to pictures of people eating hamburgers.

But since eating a hamburger is the quintessential family gathering food of choice, I was then led to pictures of families eating hamburgers together.

Then it happened. I innocently enough clicked on a picture of a dad putting ketchup on his child's hamburger.

Then boom.

My screen is filled with pictures of fathers playing with their children and holding their babies. Oh my god the babies.

So. Many. Babies.

So many dads holding their babies. Picture after picture of fathers playing with their kids and spending time with their daughters and fishing with their sons.

So many sweet moments.

And then my ovaries exploded.

Seriously. I don't know what it is. Maybe it is part of being a girl. Maybe it is my age. Maybe it is just me. (It's not just me. It's not just me, right??) But I can scroll through picture after picture of babies for a solid 40 minutes. That's a really long time. But they're just so damn adorable. It's more than that, though. It's the fact that I now find joy in shopping for tupperware. Like, all things dishes and tupperware related just excites the hell out of me. I don't know if it's normal to find joy in buying plastic containers. But I do.

As I was thinking about this today, I realized that maybe it's about what the tupperware represents.

Because you see, when I look at tupperware, I don't see square plastic containers. I see organization and order. I visualize where these containers would be stored in the kitchen of my adorable future house. Then I think about what I would be putting in the containers. And obviously that would be the food I would be buying and cooking for my family. Oh, did you say family? Well let me just take that thought and run an emotional marathon with it. Family…ok, so that would be my husband and two kids. The kids would be about six and three years old at this point. Boy and girl, obviously. And I would put their lunches for school in the smaller square tupperware…. Wait, kids going to school? Packing lunches? Doing mom-ish type things? Having my life feel like it has some sort of purpose and rhythm and order and…oh…order.

That is what I am longing for.

Order is what I am longing for during this season of life where everything seems to be up in the air. When nothing is set in stone. When it is still just me trying to figure out what the heck I am doing or supposed to be doing and when I'm not sure what my role in life is right now. When I don't know if I am being productive enough in my day-to-day life or living with enough purpose. When I can't visualize what the next ten years (heck, the next ten days) might look like because when I look into the future and it is all…just very blank.

Tupperware represents the idea of a future that I am hoping for. It represents having something known, something concrete and solid. It represents having someone that you're navigating the unknowns of life with. It represents the hope of having little kids with sticky fingers and lunch boxes that have to be bleached for the 20th time because it has a funny smell (again) because the tupperware container leaked or just because there has never been a lunch box that didn't have a funky smell.

So when I see tupperware, I see life. I see a future. And I think that maybe if I buy that container…maybe I'll get that life too.

They Make It Sound So Easy

Have you tried to open a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner recently? You know, the ones with those awful ridged caps that you are supposed to push down on (with the strength of Goliath, I might add) while simultaneously turning to the left, in order to open? Yeah, those suckers are impossible to open--almost as difficult as those new uber-flimsy water bottles with that plastic cap that is 1/16 of a centimeter tall that you are somehow expected to be able to grab onto to twist open….gosh I hate those stupid water bottles. Well anyways, a few months ago I found myself contemplating ending things with an incredibly sweet guy I was dating. I was frustrated with myself because I was wondering for the thousandth time if I might have unrealistic expectations of what I want in a guy. I was wondering if I push too hard. Wondering if I don't know what I really want and really need and wondering if I am just making mistake after mistake after mistake.

So there I was, cleaning my bathroom before this guy arrived at my house (because obviously I clean my house from top to bottom before I have company over and then apologize profusely for how "messy" it is so that people walk away thinking, "Wow, that is what she calls messy? It's so clean!") Anyways. As I was attempting to open a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner, I was thinking about the situation with the man I was currently going out with, as well as the handful of guys I have made attempts at dating in the past. I was frustrated with myself for always putting so much pressure on them to be this person that I want to be in a relationship with and frustrated that I push people to be someone that they are maybe not made to be. I was frustrated that people disappoint me, frustrated that I am so easily disappoint-able when I am so flawed myself, and frustrated for not being able to open the damn toilet bowl cleaner bottle already! Because for goodness sakes how difficult it is to open a bottle of cleaner?! Ugh. After several more attempts at perfecting the "push and screw" technique (and still failing to open the bottle) I gave it up for a moment. And through my tears of frustration, I looked down to see that my hands were now torn, blistered, and bleeding. Ok, not really. But they were pretty red. And I really was on the verge of tears. It was at this point that it hit me…. Oh. My. Gosh. I am doing the same thing in my relationships with guys as I am doing with this toilet bowl cleaner bottle. I am trying push and push and turn and apply as much pressure as humanly possible… and it is not working. Maybe, I thought to myself, maybe I need to stop applying so much damn pressure. Maybe lack of pressure isn't the issue. Maybe the problem is that I am pushing too hard.

I know.
Mind. Blown.

So, after this epiphany, I changed my approach. I gently cradled the toilet bowl cleaner bottle in my arms. I spoke lovingly to it as I gently pushed down on the bright blue "push and screw to the left" cap. And low and behold…it did not open. I was just like, Whatever. Screw this. But then, in a final act of desperation, I leveraged my entire body weight onto the bottle and pushed down really really really hard as I turned the cap. And it opened.

So, apparently the lesson is not that I am applying too much pressure…but in fact that I need to to apply more?

I'm kidding. I don't really think there was a lesson. I think it was just a really difficult bottle of toilet bowl cleaner to open. That being said, I do think that I could be applying too much pressure on certain people in potential relationships. Or, I might also be trying to date people who just aren't right for me and who I am not right for. I don't really know. But I guess the only way to find out is to try applying some pressure. And if that doesn't work, maybe I'll try a different approach and be a bit more gentle. If that still doesn't work, then I will probably take a moment to say a few choice words and then try something else. Eventually, if I'm really committed to having whatever it is I'm trying to have…be it a clean toilet or a relationship…I'll figure it out. Hopefully.

The real moral of this story is just that I have no idea about anything and I am just going to keep trying different things because like I said…I have no idea if I am doing this all the right way or wrong way or if there even is a right and wrong way. But one thing I do know is that I probably should not apply the "push and screw" concept to a potential relationship.

Rewiring

As I am writing this, there is a near to empty bowl of oatmeal sitting next to me. It is 12:24pm. Not technically morning anymore, but to a mind and body that once ate as little as possible until as late in the day as possible (and sometimes that meant not eating a meal until between 6:00pm-8:00pm) noon is pretty early to be sitting down to eat a "whole" of anything.

There are two main reasons why, just a few years ago, I would attempt to eat as little as possible for as long as possible during the day.

1.) There was a 90 percent chance that I had binged the night before (fairly soon before going to bed) so I really wasn't that hungry until about 3pm the next day.

2.) My eating disorder was an addiction. So in a sense, I was addicted to food. Rather, I was addicted to the feeling that I got when I binged with food. Consequently, if I started eating, I couldn't stop eating until I noticed that my stomach was starting to ache. So I would put off the seemingly inevitable food-binge that would begin whenever I started eating, until late in the day when there was nothing else I needed to do. It was then that I would "clock out" (check out and numb out) of life for the day by...eating.

(As a side note: I think it is interesting that people with an eating disorder have to learn how to manage their addiction by engaging in it in moderation. Like, can you imagine telling an alcoholic that they have to learn to drink in moderation? Former alcoholics don't try to drink in moderation. They completely abstain from drinking altogether. But obviously one can not completely abstain from eating. Food, and eating, is necessary. So those with an eating disorder--bingeing specifically--have to exercise some pretty intense self control by learning how to eat…and then stop. It was fairly easy for me to not eat. I could go all day not eating. The hard part was stopping once I had started.)

But the reason I used the word "whole" is because a large part of my eating disorder was mental. Here is what I mean by that. If I ate half a cracker, half a cheese stick, a bite or two of a sandwich...and threw away the other part of whatever I was eating...I was good. Binge and/or negative body image feelings avoided. My mind interpreted that as, "you haven't ruined today yet, you have eaten hardly anything, so you're good and you look fine." But if I ate a whole of anything… a whole apple, a whole sandwich, a whole bowl of soup, a mini bag of chips, a entire candy bar…forget it. On a physical+self control level, it would be extraordinarily difficult for me to eat only a moderate/normal amount of food and then call it quits. On a mental+emotional level, even when I was able to eat a normal portion of food and be done…I would typically be emotionally shut down for the day.

Part of my motivation for wanting to be free from this cycle of bingeing was that I realized how my bingeing (or not eating) was affecting my relationships. For example, I wouldn't pick up the phone in the evening if a friend was calling to talk, because I didn't talk to friends during or immediately following a binge. I didn't want anyone coming into that mess…it was my hidden mess. And like I mentioned before, I would shut down emotionally after bingeing. I didn't have the emotional energy to interact with friends. I wouldn't want to talk to anyone and I wouldn't want anyone to talk to me. I would want to be alone so that I could eat and then I would want to be left alone after I binged because I felt gross and ashamed of myself. I mean, think about how you feel after a Thanksgiving meal--completely stuffed. Slightly sick. Sleepy. Relaxed. You want to go take a nap. Well, that is how I would feel after bingeing. Except, a holiday meal is something that usually happens in the context of a community and family. Bingeing is something I did in isolation. I did it when I was alone, I wanted to be left alone so that I could continue to do it, and doing it kept me alone. But it was comforting. It had a payoff. All of our sins and addictions have some kind of payoff…otherwise we wouldn't keeping going back to them. Unfortunately, for me the payoff of bingeing was deeper than staving off the loneliness I felt. As I became more free from this all, I came to realize that beneath my struggles with food there was (there still is) a deeper struggle with depression, anxiety, and a desire for a sense of control. Bingeing with food was a coping mechanism I had developed over the years (and utilized almost daily) to help me handle life…and to help me handle myself.

But I digress. Back to the mental and emotional part of this all.

For years I had associated "meal" with "binge". It was normal for me to binge after a meal. And since my goal of every single day was to eat as little as possible, if at some point during the day I ate an amount of food that my mind told me was "too much" I had this, "what the hell--might as well eat the whole world now" mentality. (Yeah, God might have the whole world in His hands...but I managed to stuff the whole world in my stomach.) So even as my eating patterns changed externally, internally my mind was still telling me that it was time to binge or time to shut down emotionally for the day. I still struggle to not shut down emotionally or to feel like I can't do anything worthwhile with the remaining hours of daylight... (because I tend to feel like I have already ruined the only thing truly worthwhile for that day--not eating so that I can look thinner.)

Slowly I taught myself to eat dinner in the evening…and to still be emotionally available to my roommate (who also happens to be my best friend). Then I learned to eat an afternoon lunch…and move on with my day. Now…"breakfast". This is like the last great frontier for me. By eating in the morning I am starting my day with the thing that I used to end my day with. It is difficult because when I eat a meal, my mind automatically begins to turn off emotional switches. I start to feel like the rest of the day is a waste. And that is extremely frustrating to me because I desire to be emotionally present for my whole entire day.

But over the past year and a half my brain has done a lot of rewiring. Rewiring from depression and rewiring from years of an eating disorder. I have had to teach myself to associate fullness after a meal with meaning that I now have the energy to meet the physical, emotional, spiritual, and mental requirements of the day. So now…that is what my brain is (subconsciously) starting to tell me when I eat meal. Instead of me feeling compelled to continue eating or forced to shut down emotionally, I do feel satisfied and ready to move on with my day with more energy, focus, and the ability to be present in the moment. Whereas before, I would be dreaming about later at night when I would finally be able to check out of life and eat a days worth of calories in a two hour span. This changed mindset is still so new. When I sit down to eat a meal (especially in the morning or early afternoon--yes, time of day matters) my brain still first starts to associate eating with bingeing and bingeing with shutting down. And I have to remind myself that that is not me anymore. Rather, I realize with amazement that that is not me anymore. I eat…and I don't shut down. I'm still in the game. The switches don't get turned off. It's not an extremely conscious thing I am doing anymore--my brain is rewiring. It is now attaching different meanings and feelings with certain activities. It's so weird and awesome.

I almost don't want to say this because I am afraid it will ruin my credibility…but I binged last night. Yep. Even with all of this that I have learned and all the ways I have changed, it is still a struggle and night is the most difficult time. I want to be honest about last night because I don't want to pretend to be at a place with this that I am not. That doesn't help anyone. I am still in the process of figuring this all out. I am still in the process of surrendering my dependancies and trusting God to meet my needs…in the way he wants to meet them. And some nights I don't feel like rewiring my brain. Some nights I just want to eat a damn candy bar. Or ten. And then other nights I feel God tell me that I was made for so much more than suppressing my deepest emotions and hiding my struggles by medicating myself with food or any other substance.