Worth & Deserving

For the absolute longest time, I was certain that I was unworthy and undeserving- of many things:

  • Relationships
  • Recovery
  • Love
  • Compliments

I believed I was the exception, that serious complications from an eating disorder happened to others, not to me. That others deserved recovery, not me.

 

Being consumed with my inner critic and eating disorder, I fully believed that my worth was based solely on my actions and others’ opinions of me. Yet, it was always unfairly graded and weighed.

Positive that the pleasant compliments were only said to be polite, and maybe even out of pity, they held no truth to them. Yet, when someone was critical or demeaning, I held those comments as gospel and put my worth in my imperfections and short comings.

 

By listening to my inner critic and falling for the lie of being unworthy and undeserving, I was practically saying that I held no worth in who I am.

I would never say this to another person, but yet I found it acceptable to refer to myself as this.

It has taken many, many years, but I am not the exception.

Just like how my body won’t survive on carrot sticks because I want it to.

My worth isn’t based on my short comings because I think that is all I deserve.

 

In a society that thrives on perfection and believes asking for help is a weakness, we become fake to those around us.

It has become taboo to talk about struggles, we portray only the very best side of our life, feeding into the belief that we can’t measure up.

I am a huge advocate for sharing our stories. It is so easy to get caught up with our faults and mistakes and make our identity in them, but yet, I want to hear who you are.

I don’t care about the weather, your car or your job. We ALL have SOMETHING and I want to hear it. What you’ve been through, how far you’ve come, what you learned, and how it made you, you.

So instead of only showing the best side of yourself – be real.

Own your story, it is yours to tell and nobody has the power or authority to belittle it for how far you have come.

Be unapologetically you.

You are worthy of it.

I am worthy of it.

We deserve so much more.

Flaws

You are not your flaws or your short-comings.

You are not defined by what you lack, or how you do not measure up.

Neither is your body.

Your body is not its flaws.

Fat

Scars

Stretchmarks

You, and your body, are not defined by your flaws.

College and Eating Disorder

First, I wanted to apologize.

The days of class I skipped.

The days I couldn’t pay attention.

Or, the days when I would skip your class, and you would catch me running around campus walking back to your office.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was that I was just more consumed with burning calories and making my Eating Disorder happy that I didn’t want to sit in class.

I didn’t want you to take my struggle as apathy or anything like that, and for the professors that did know about my struggle, I’m thankful for all that you did.

It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to go to class, I physically didn’t have the energy to be there. I was freezing, exhausted, and all I wanted to do was go out and run this anxiety off. Running was more important to me than school, studying, or any sort of life.

Classmates would comment on how athletic I am, and how impressed they were at the distances I was running and how often I went to the gym. (Little did they know I had eaten an apple in maybe two days, and the violent shakes were from the Hydroxycut, not the coffee like I told people.) They didn’t see the girl who laid in her bed crying because of her electrolytes and her legs were locked up again, or the girl who ran to the toilet at 2 am because I had taken the laxatives too early and was up in the middle of the night.

College just seems like one big blur to me. Life was a half-hearted perfunctory routine of get up, run, go to class, run, go to work, maybe go to the gym, and start all over again.

Recently, I had the opportunity to catch up with one of my professors. I had her class during the semester that I left for treatment. We sat outside, laughed and caught up on all that we had missed. She told me that I looked happy and she was so proud of me. That, was what I needed to hear. That I didn’t disappoint her, or had somehow failed at being a “normal” college student.

She went on to say that she talks about me frequently, how I never asked for special treatment, and did continue to show up and do well in her class. The only thing I ever asked was if I could take my final early, (I was admitted on finals week).

I was honest and told her that while I was in her class I was consuming more diet pills and laxatives than actual food, she shook her head in a concerning way.

The most difficult was a male professor, only because my senior research also included a food log, which I was sure would lead to me failing my senior research if I didn’t have any data to actually document. He was very understanding, and I missed half of the following semester since I was still in treatment. Returning in March to his Biostatistics class, he was shocked and surprised to see me walk in the door. I had three tests to make up, multiple practicals, and I was determined. He was willing to work with me and said I could take an incomplete and finish the semester when I was feeling better. I told him I was supposed to graduate this semester, and I wanted to catch up.

I did, I finished school on time and graduated on time, missing half of a semester of Biostatistics, Virology, and Biochemistry.

I am very thankful to have the support I did through my academic career. Both of those professors actually wrote me letters of recommendation. They believed in me, even when I didn’t think I could.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

What is the purpose of mirrors? Why do people choose to obsess over their reflection?

Personally, I don’t think there is anything positive to come from staring at yourself in the mirror.

I could be wrong, and you might think I am totally off course, but, I believe the sole purpose of mirrors is to nit-pick at our flaws.

We know what we look like, and when it comes down to it, we really aren’t all that interesting to stare at either. So why are we so focused on mirrors and what we look like?

Even looking in a mirror to do your makeup or hair, we do it because we are unsatisfied with how we look. Mirrors serve absolutely no purpose. We stare at them to pick at our face because of break outs. We body check in them to see if we have drastically changed in the past ten minutes. We use mirrors so we can focus in on our insecurities and what we consider our short comings.

So, put away the mirror, focus on how you feel, and not so much how you look.

My Trip Back Home

Sometimes I forget how far I’ve come and how much support I’ve had throughout this.

I wanted my family to be my biggest support system, but they aren’t, and you know what? That is ok.

So, I took Thursday-Monday off from work. I left work early Wednesday and headed to North Carolina.

It was a very long, slightly brutal drive, but worth every minute.

During this time I surprised my siblings by stopping by.

I met up with a couple people who are super important to me, and each one had practically the same things to say.

Being also able to go back on my running paths I had been doing for so long before moving. It was nice to go running again in the mountains of my home

I had lunch with the yoga instructor from treatment. She is an amazing, sweet soul, and expressed how proud of me she is and all of the hard work I put in and how far I have come.

I met up with my biggest supporter and advocate through this all, T, we got together twice, having lunch, walking around, getting coffee. It was amazing and I missed her, and her hugs, so much. The two of us got together, I drank a sangaria, ate black bean tostadas, which were amazing, we laughed and reminisced  about how far I had come. She expressed how proud of me she was and how all that I had accomplished, a year and a half ago my goals were 1) a “big girl job” 2) a house 3) and a dog. All of which I have accomplished/obtained, and it feels wonderful.

Grabbed some beers with some old coworkers, we laughed and had a great time. We talked shit, ordered pizza, laughed some more, swapped stories. I missed them a lot.

Went to church Sunday morning, was greeted by many hugs, a few people said they were just thinking about me the other day. It was great to be back in my small knit community.

Honestly though, I think one of the most rewarding conversations and get togethers I had was with an old professor. I had her for a class during the middle of my eating disorder, I wasn’t eating, ran all the time, did pretty well in her class and never let on anything was wrong. That was, until I had to go to treatment. I opened up, told her what was going on, I asked if I could take my final early and she was more concerned about my health and well-being, than the inconvenience of taking my test early. Her and I met up, had a beer and talked about the last 7 months. I told her how I was working as a biochemist and liked my job, and then we began to talk about my eating disorder. I wasn’t embarrassed, or ashamed, I was honest. Told her I went back to IOP for a bit, but didn’t like it, and how I am doing much better, drinking beer, eating pizza. Pretty much kicking ass in recovery.

Dr. B went on to say how she talks about me frequently and how I never asked for special treatment. She was so happy for me and told me how happy and healthy I looked. She was so impressed by all I had accomplished and was even more impressed by my willingness to not only talk about all of this, but to agree to go to IOP up in PA.

 

Overall, this was a much needed trip. It can be so easy to get caught up in your own junk and forget how many people care about you. This was an amazing reminder that there are so many people who believe in me and have faith in what I can accomplish and already are impressed by what I have done and gone through.

 

Who, Not What, Are You.

Who are you?

If someone was to ask you who you were what would you say?

Would you identify yourself with your flaws?

Would you identify yourself with the size pants you wear?

“I am _______.”

How would you fill that?

The world has told us to fit molds, stereotypes and to hold certain expectations.

As if your importance and worth in the world is somehow based on how you look; and God forbid we are open about our struggles and flaws, which could somehow make us less human or less worthy.

Who you are is not:

                What you do.

                A label set by others.

                A diagnosis.

                Mistakes you made.

Why would I accept a label set on me by others?

                I don’t walk up to someone and say, “Hi, I am a recovering anorexic.”

“Hello, I am anxious.”

                                “Good afternoon, I am depressed.”

Honestly, to me, this doesn’t sound bad. It would be more real. People may stop hiding behind the taboo shame that comes with these labels.

But, these labels, regardless of what they are, are not WHO we are.

I’m gonna say that again for the people in the back….

                Regardless of what these labels are, THEY ARE NOT WHO WE ARE.

Work…

Work has been exhausting.

There is no other way to say it.

I am working my ass off, and dealing with my tendency to please people and be a good employee.

This is leading to feeling burnt out, exhausted, and even impacting my eating and recovery.

 

For the Fourth, a couple of friends and I went to a married friend’s house. They made us dinner, and it was great. We ate, drank some wine, watched a movie. Then, one of our friends threw up red wine all over herself, the couch, and the floor.

My friend’s wife and I got her to the bathroom while the guys scrubbed the carpet. Couple hours or so later, the wife and I were fully dressed, holding a passed out girl up in the shower. It was an interesting night, but I enjoyed being “normal” and going out with friends and having fun.

 

So, the client I’ve been doing these experiments for flew in last week. I knew they were coming and was expecting it. Over the course of 8 days I was over 90 hours.

I go into work at 5 am. That way, if I want, I could leave at like 1 or 2, having part of the day still free to accomplish personal stuff and enjoy the rest of the day. It defeats the purpose though, if I come in at 5, and leave at 5. This is exactly what was happening, if I wasn’t in the lab I was at meetings or conference calls.

I was thrilled when Friday came around and I was under the impression they were leaving.

Well, they were here again this week. Even with Monday being a holiday I am well over my 40 hours.

In front of the client my boss tries to look like a savior, “Oh, she needs a vacation. She needs to stop coming in on the weekend….oh…. but can you have this done by Monday?”

He talks out of two sides of his face and is exhausting.

With the lab work completed, I emailed him about PTO, hoping to return home to NC for a couple days.

I stated in my email that, “With the lab work done, I was hoping to head home for a few days. I would still be able to process the data and type up the report from home.” He pretty much responded in a similar way as the weekend responses, “Oh, well, I’m all for you taking PTO, but uhhhh.” So that was a no.

It would be one thing if I always asked off, or rarely hit my 40 hours, but that isn’t the case.

I am doing 12 hour days, coming in 4 hours before my boss does every single day. It is beginning to feel like an expectation, and is so hard to place those boundaries at work with these ridiculous timelines and expectations. I am so tired and burnt out, I just want to cry half of the time I am at work.

I love my job, but this is ridiculous.