Category Archives: Food

Inside the experience

It’s been awhile since I’ve written about mental health – my recovery process in particular. I think that is because my tendency towards perfectionism (be the perfect child, be the perfect friend, be the perfect employee) has meant I have also wanted to be perfect in my recovery. However, that is not the case.

Writing is a therapeutic tool for me and though what I am sharing in today’s post is a deeply vulnerable topic for me, I feel it is important to share. I know many of my followers and readers are people who struggle with similar mental health challenges and, like me, when you look to the online community for articles and stories to help you, they are few and far between. So I write this post not just for me, but for you too.


I recently got refitted for a bra and was politely informed my boobs had shrunk a full cup size. For a “barely B” you can imagine how horrified I was at the realization my body was reverting back to its preteen years. I mean seriously guys, MY BOOBS ARE SHRINKING. The same day, I reached my lowest weight of 114 lbs and though I didn’t make the connection at the time, it’s fairly obvious the shrinking boob epidemic is the result of losing weight.

More disturbingly, I failed to recognize that my weight was even an issue. The recommended weight for someone of my height is 120-155 lbs. From all outward appearances, I look normal and healthy even though the scale shows I am underweight. But if there is anything I’ve learned in working with my therapist over the last month on the whole ‘WHY AM I DOING THIS TO MY BODY’ thing, it’s that appearances can be deceiving, especially for people who struggle with disordered eating and eating disorders.

There were two frightening moments I encountered recently that made me pause and question my behavior and one revelation that prompted me to open up to my therapist about the extent of my disordered eating.

One of the frightening moments happened a few weeks ago when I weighed myself and saw the scale jump from 114 lbs to 117 lbs (the result of indulging in Irish food and Guinness). I had gained 3 lbs. You would have thought the world was ending. I was disgusted with myself and immediately put into action a plan to lose the weight, despite the fact I was still below the recommended weight range.

The second frightening moment happened just the other day when I got home from a three-hour workout and refused to eat because I had two cookies earlier in the day (it didn’t matter I had just burned 700 calories). My body was starving and screaming at me I NEED FOOD, I NEED FOOD yet I ignored those cries for nourishment and took a sleeping pill, hoping to sleep off the hunger.

At this moment, I knew my behavior and thinking was irrational. I was obsessively counting calories, restricting my diet, and over exercising. I kept telling myself to just stop it. Yet, I couldn’t. It was around that time I also began noticing that I was picking out my eyebrows more frequently – a habit I engage in when I feel anxious. It’s a disorder called trichotillomania, which leaves bald patches in my eyebrows. I’ve had it since I was about 14 years old and despite therapy it hasn’t ever gone away. With years of experience in dealing with the disorder, I know that when I engage in this behavior it’s a way of me dealing with stress. Having that understanding often makes me step back and look at why I’m anxious. And, this is where the big revelation occurred.

The source of my anxiety – and thus the eyebrow picking – was food.

It’s the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep. During the day, I count down the hours and minutes until the next “snack” because I can’t eat a minute sooner. Every night, I plan out my meals for the following day, record the calories, and determine how much I need to exercise to stay at just 900 calories a day. I take in 1200-1300 calories and burn between 500-700 calories. Any deviation from that plan immediately makes me anxious.

For example, on my coworker’s last day in the office we went to our favorite burger joint. I couldn’t not go so I made a deal with myself. I would order a cheeseburger but I would absolutely not eat the bun AND I would work out an extra 30 minutes on the elliptical that evening. To counteract the fries I would eat, I decided I would only have vegetables for dinner that way I could still remain within my daily caloric goal. The entire time I ate, I only thought of the calories I was putting into my mouth. I didn’t even savor the food. I stuck to my end of the deal, though, and my anxiety quickly subsided.

I described similar scenarios to my therapist (like the fact I skipped out on a happy hour last week because I knew I would drink a beer full of empty calories) and all I wanted to know is WHY the hell my mind was thinking this way. She drew me this:

FullSizeRender

Food is my trigger. When I have to eat, my anxiety skyrockets. The eating disorder yells at me and says things like, “What are you doing!? You’re going to get fat if you eat that!” or, “That’s disgusting! Stop eating!” So, I make a deal with the eating disorder. If I eat this cookie, I will do XX amount of additional exercise. Or, if I eat this burger I won’t eat dinner. The eating disorder says OK and my anxiety plummets. Thus, “the deal” becomes a powerful reinforcer for the eating disorder to continue. It’s the coping mechanism for my anxiety.

I have not been diagnosed with an eating disorder. Partly because the primary diagnostic tool used is whether or not your period has gone away. I have an IUD, which means I don’t have my period at all. But I do have disordered eating, which is dangerous because it can easily lead into an eating disorder – whether that’s anorexia or bulimia. Not everyone who has disordered eating will develop an eating disorder, but everyone who has had an eating disorder started with disordered eating. This scares me and I do not want that to happen.

The most important thing to me right now is recognizing I need help and getting it before it gets out of control. I am going in for weekly metabolic screenings. I have scheduled more frequent therapy visits. I’m working with my psychiatrist to re-address my medications. We’ve made goals to incrementally decrease the amount of exercise I do and increase my calories to at least 1500 a day. I know it won’t be easy, especially since I’m already fighting it.

To the family and friends I have talked about this struggle with, it’s difficult to grasp. As they say, I’m the sanest person they know and when I feel that kind of anxiety, it doesn’t visibly show to them. They don’t know I need help because I hide it well. Though I may look healthy on the outside, my thinking and behavior to maintain that image is not.

Of course, there are deeper seated issues behind the behavior besides anxiety. As my therapist pointed out, the emotional and mental abuse I went through in the last four years by the hands of someone else seems to have been replaced with emotional and mental abuse at my own hands. I have a lot to work through still. Thus is the wild ride of recovery for me.

 

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under anxiety, depression, eating disorder, Food, health, mental health, mental illness, pefectionism, recovery, therapy, vulnerability

Small victories

I haven’t cooked a meal for myself since last October, which sounds strange considering how much I used to love cooking and trying out new recipes in the kitchen. In fact, I used to try a new recipe every week. On top of that, every Sunday I baked homemade bread and breakfast muffins. I was a regular Betty Crocker. Since October, though, the thought of having to cook something overwhelmed me.

A lot of that stemmed from the major depressive episode I was in. In severe depression, everyday activities like doing the dishes or taking a shower or throwing a burger on the George Forman grill seem like major obstacles to overcome so you don’t even try. I avoided doing dishes by using paper plates, forks, spoons, and cups. The cookware that did land in my sink was limited to empty plastic containers from when my Mom sent meals home with me. Those containers would sit there for weeks (sometimes a month) at a time.

Typically, after an episode, that all goes away as your life returns back to normal. And, for the most part it did go back to normal for me. Except in the way of cooking. Even now, I’m subsisting on Mom-made meals and bags of frozen vegetables and cans of soup and tuna. But on Monday night, when I was combing through my pantry trying to decide between a bag of popcorn or a bowl of cereal for dinner, I had a sudden urge to cook. I was even willing (gasp) to go to the grocery store.

Settling on a recipe was fairly easy since I have an overloaded Pinterest board of recipes to try. I settled on the first one that popped up though because if I sat there long enough, weeding through every one, I probably would have lost interest. It just so happens the first one that popped up was Shepherd’s Pie.

Usually I make modifications to recipes like adding things here and there or taking away things I don’t like. I don’t really care for the taste of lamb so I switched it for ground turkey. I also added some mushrooms and lima beans to the veggie mix and cumin for flavoring. Cumin is my go-to spice and I seriously think it makes everything taste better. Put it all together and you get this:

IMG_3099

I also tried a new take on mashed potatoes that I picked up from SkinnyTaste. I was slightly hesitant to try it because I rarely use lighter versions of comfort foods I love (fat-free cheese, sour cream, milk, etc.). Surprisingly, though, I actually like this version better. Milk was replaced with fat-free chicken broth and instead of using butter I chose a lighter version of sour cream. Even though it’s lower in calories, I thought it had a richer taste. I loved it so much I even made a separate batch to store in the freezer!

I was too excited to eat that I forgot to take a picture of the final product, but this one from Google images looks close enough, right down to the Paprika on top.

Taken from Google images. My food photos are not near as artsy as this one.

Taken from Google images. My food photos are not near as artsy as this one.

After dinner, I stood at the kitchen counter hand-washing dishes, hips swaying to the sound of Norah Jones, and I felt an emotion that I can’t remember the last time I felt: contentment. I write about this particular venture of mine only because what is a small victory to otherwise mentally healthy individuals is a big victory for me.

Now to decide what to cook next week!

1 Comment

Filed under cooking, Food, recipes

NOLA: the city that stole my heart

I had a trip booked to Cambodia and Vietnam in January but after being hospitalized in December I ended up having to cancel it. Since most of my savings went to moving and securing an apartment (and the fact I couldn’t take vacation for six months after starting my new job) I hadn’t been anywhere since June 2014, when I traveled to Nicaragua. My vagabond feet have been restless ever since then as I usually take a trip abroad at least once a year and smaller ones throughout the states every two to three months.

Considering where I was at just three months ago and the emotional roller coaster I’ve been through over the last couple of years, it’s incredible the recovery I’ve made in such a short time. I’ve put all my effort into taking care of myself these last few months so I figured it was time to let loose, have some fun, and explore somewhere new. New Orleans just happened to be my pick only because I found a last-minute ticket for $200 dollars (sweet deal!). In the end, I’m so glad I went because it’s a charming, lively city – one that quickly stole my heart.

At the suggestion of my friend M who used to live in NOLA I rented a bike for the four days I was there. It’s a fairly flat city and given my hostel was a 25 minute walk to pretty much everywhere it made getting around so much easier. Compared to other tourists I felt like I saw a lot more of the city instead of being confined to the French Quarter or Bourbon Street. I also got a shit ton of exercise.

One thing I’ve noticed over the last five years I’ve been staying at hostels is there are infinitely more people from Australia than there used to be. Of the seven of us who ventured out to Bourbon Street on my first night there, five were Aussies. In general, they’re wild and crazy and they certainly know how to show you a good time. I love them for that, especially since I’m shy when first meeting people.

IMG_2947

That night I was also able to cross off on my to-do list eating beignets at the famous Cafe du Monde. Three-quarters powdered sugar and one-quarter dough, I’ve now had them sober and I’ve had them drunk. They are definitely better when drinking.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful neighborhoods I saw in NOLA was the Garden District, known for its architecture and historic 19th century homes. Most of the homes are enclosed by wrought-iron fences and many of them were draped in Mardi Gras beads. I found it amusing that such a wealthy neighborhood would add a touch of flare to their plantation style homes. It made me like them more. I would snatch one of these homes up in a heartbeat, if only I had millions of dollars.

PicMonkey Collage

I also spent part of a day doing a self-guided tour of the Lafayette Cemeteries. The St. Louis Cemetery is more widely known but my goal for this trip outside of food and entertainment was to do mostly free stuff. Lafayette was a viable alternative to St. Louis since it didn’t require you to pay entrance and guide fees.

Most interesting to me were the tombs that carried multiple family members dating all the way back to the early 1800’s (as shown in the photo above). What I found so touching was that family still visited their ancestors’ graves. I couldn’t even tell you where my great grandparents or great great grandparents are buried. In the tomb above, the flowers were fresh and I found the statue of Mary oddly comforting. At another tomb I stumbled across, a World War I medal was draped across the steps along with a picture. Seriously cool.

Days two and three were spent exploring the French Quarter and riding the ferry to Algiers Point. Algiers Point provides the best view of the NOLA skyline and you could spend an entire day in the French Quarter and still not see everything. The St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square are the focal point of the quarter and it pretty much reminded me of a castle in a fairy tale. I’d also recommend checking out the French Market, not so much for the stalls of cheap souvenirs but for the interesting food they serve there. Gators on a stick? Weird but kind of intriguing!

PicMonkey Collage2And I can’t forget the food! By far the best meal I had was at a dive bar in the Marigny called Mimi’s. C (who I met at the hostel) and I were skeptical when we first walked in but the atmosphere upstairs was pleasantly surprising. Mimi’s has the best late night tapas menu around. We started with one tapa and a few hours later had practically made it through the entire menu. Few tourists know of this spot but it’s popular among the locals and came highly recommended from M. Plus, you can actually hear each other talk. Other great restaurants I recommend are Surrey’s Cafe and Juice Bar for breakfast, Deanie’s for seafood, and Coop’s for some authentic Cajun food.

Perhaps my favorite part of NOLA though is the abundance of live Jazz music, especially in the French Quarter during the day and on Frenchman Street at night. I had a conversation with a local about this very subject and he told me about a local parade that happens every week from March to June. It’s not publicized and many tourists are unaware of its existence. C met me where the parade started and we walked along the route with hundreds of others who were playing music and dancing in the streets. Here is a short clip of the parade and another one of a jazz band we came across on Frenchman Street one evening.

It’s fair to say NOLA quickly became one of my favorite US cities. Pictures don’t do it justice but I do know I’ll be going back there someday soon.

Leave a comment

Filed under adventure, Algiers Point, biking, Bourbon Street, Cafe du Monde, exploring, Food, Frenchman Street, fun, Garden District, music, New Orleans, travel