After yesterday and some of the feedback I received about my breakfast of the past few weeks and the new incorporations, I felt compelled in a sense to elaborate a little further on the topic of my progress as of late.
It is no secret that from December to now I have not been doing as well as when I came home from HLS and felt so inspired to get my life back in order.
At that point I was fueling my body properly, exercising only in the approved fashion from my doctors and dietician, and I did have less intense eating disorder/negative thoughts (I emphasize LESS…they by no means went away!)
Anyway, then the holidays came and things just started to deteriorate.
My meal plan was only maintained half the time, my mood started to sour and I felt immense guilt if I did not get an hour of exercise a day.
These things are NOT ok, and cognitively, I know that.
I could see my meal plan diminish…going from 2/3 cup of egg beaters in the a.m. to 1/3 now, being more fearful and avoiding foods that are natural, healthy and delicious, but that can’t be measured precisely, berating myself for not lifting weights during the commercials of my favorite shows…
All these things have recently escalated due to lack of nutrition and a starving, obsessed brain.
It is a fact that those who are deprived just don’t think properly, because, go figure, they are trying to use the minimal energy given to survive.
Despite me knowing this stuff rationally, my recovery focused behavior has only changed marginally.
I am petrified sitting down to meals, especially alone, and although I have cravings for certain things; things I will sometimes give in to, I will then sacrifice something else because I feel so much shame.
When I do have accountability and support I do better, but then I feel embarrassed afterwards.
Let me explain because that is probably unclear.
I feel embarrassed to share with you some of the challenges my family and I have done these past two weeks.
All I keep thinking is, “oh my gosh…you can’t write about that…then it just confirms there is no problem at all and you are just a pig who eats everything and anything.”
Here is a pretty specific example:
Monday night my mom came home just overnight before she was leaving for Florida.
Ryan and I had a tax appointment at 6:30 so going to a restaurant wasn’t really feasible, as she initially suggested, so we opted for take-out; ITALIAN TAKE OUT…aka the scariest food genre in the entire world for me, aside from dessert.
On my fear food list presented to Ryan last week (we are trying to check them off one by one) pizza was very much near the top.
It is there for a very good reason…
The only time I had a REAL pizza was when Ryan and I were in Pompeii. We had just hiked Mt. Vesuvius and went on a tour of the ancient city and were literally ready to gnaw our arms off we were so hungry when both excursions were through.
There were not many options near our location and we were at the mercy of the tour bus taking us back to our ship so we had to go with the lone shop on the corner.
It was so small with a long counter and behind the glass displays were trays full of vegetables, meats, cheese, some fruits, etc. It was like anything you could imagine was laid out to make your mouth water.
Aside of the huge case was dough neatly rolled into balls, and behind this was a ginormous oven with flames in the background.
It was a pizza or pasta establishment where you basically build your own meal.
The pizzas were probably about 8 inches and I suggested we share one, sans cheese.
Ryan pretty much laughed in my face because he was easily ready to devour an entire pie and some pasta after our morning.
“Just get a pizza CJ, they aren’t that big and you can fill it with veggies, but get a little bit of cheese for the protein.”
…I think he knew I wouldn’t touch the prosciutto that he was salivating over.
Long story short, this was the best tasting thing that had ever touched my lips.
It looked so beautiful on the round plate, full of color and vibrancy, and the flavor was just phenomenal. I mean, really, you cannot beat fresh basil and an authentic pizza.
I ate the whole thing.
I was so ashamed and scared.
What the heck had I just done?!
It had been over 6 hours since we had breakfast and I was so hungry that I wasn’t full with the section I originally portioned out in my mind, so the entire thing went into my belly.
The rest of the trip I craved pizza, and the excitement my taste buds had experienced that afternoon.
I was terrified and felt gluttonous.
Since then I have made my own form of a pie at home, and even tried the Trader Joes kind featured a few weeks ago, but the thought of having a slice made by someone else, not knowing how it was prepared, how much of things were put on top, etc. just horrified me.
Monday night I didn’t necessarily have a choice.
Of course I did, but my mom and Ryan would have been incredibly disappointed in me if I elected another salad and vinegar.
Since she and I have similar taste, Geege and I ordered a small pizza with vegetables and light cheese.
It was only 12 inches and Ryan encouraged me to have two pieces to which I complied.
Oh my gosh it was good.
Good doesn’t really describe it to be honest.
I was very full but the taste alone was enough to make me want it again.
I have still not eaten the leftovers in my fridge but to me, two slices sitting side by side with those I love was a pretty big feat.
That was Monday…
Meaning I toyed with the idea of mentioning it during WIAW, but then I pulled back.
“You may not tell them you ate that! You don’t eat pizza and I can’t believe you would even consider disclosing such an indulgent meal!”
Get real, CJ.
People eat pizza all the time and I would like to think none of my readers and friends are judging me too harshly for having, AND LIKING, my dinner.
But these are the insane things that run through my mind, when I really should be thinking how disappointed you might be that I am failing miserably everyday at getting to my goals.
Please let me know your thoughts.
I am open to honest feedback and appreciate any form of constructive criticism. When someone e-mailed me months ago with a bunch of concerns they had, some of which weren’t put super nicely, it was actually a great spark for me to make improvements, so as much as I might regret this, if you have something to say, or a request to make, please feel free to e-mail me.
Thanks for everything bl-iends.
I apologize if I have omitted certain things I was ashamed of. I think it is time to stop.