#but.... i cant eat fat and barely any protein so i cant build muscles :((

[bunnihearted]

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[simplymorganunedited-blog]

A Double Whammy: Strawberries, Yogurt and Alphabet Soup

A double whammy of appointments today. 

I feel very refreshed. Meeting with my team always leaves me feeling positive, feeling brave, feeling like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Update: Mondays have officially become my favourite day. 

Here is what this particular Monday brought me. 

Dietician Talk: 

Blind Weight: 

Third one folks. 

I don't know what it is. I don't really want to.

I just wanted you to know it happened. 

Morgan Gets Shut Down Part One: 

“Gym?”

“No.” 

Sh*t. 

Hunger and Me: 

I’ve been feeling hungry recently.

 Surprise right?!

Actually, yes. 

I’ve been feeling hungry lately, right after I’ve eaten a “well-balanced, well-portioned meal.” (My dietician’s words; this isn't even Morgan’s Brian talking folks.)

Thus, anxiety. Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety.

So, what is going on? 

Apparently, this is normal. Apparently, “some recovering ED patients can eat a large number of calories, up to 5,000....”

*Jaw Drops. Morgan’s Brain preps her temper tantrum.. 

Ummmm excuse me??????? What?? 

“....and barely gain any weight.”

Double what??? 

Bodies are weird. 

Bean Talk:

I received a lovely lesson in carbs and protein today, so I thought I’d pass the information along. 

Beans: Both carbs and protein. 

Quinoa: Mostly carbs. 

Cool right??

Menopause:

I feel like I’m going through menopause. 

Like hot flashes. Serious hot flashes. 

Side Note: I would like to formally apologize to Karen Jenkin. Mom, I’m sorry for every single time I laughed at you for stripping down in the kitchen when you were sweating your face off. I understand now. Like seriously, I’m so sorry. 

Just kidding. Not menopause.

Basically, my body’s metabolism has a heyday every time I nourish it.

Hence, a speeding up of my metabolic rate.

Hence, the hot flashes.

Cue sweating. 

Strawberries and Yogurt: 

New snack. 

10:30 am: Strawberries and yogurt.

I’m actually pretty okay with this, much to the dismay of Morgan’s Brain. (More food equals more calories which equal more fat which equals imperfection), but let’s just forget about her opinion for a while (like forever), cause honestly it doesn't matter. 

I have really been enjoying my snacks. They are mostly fruit, and yogurt, and granola, which are safe foods for me, and foods that I really enjoy. Moreover, I think this will help the intense hunger/anxiety I feel around lunchtime, which causes me to panic during my lunch prep, which can equal an unplanned purge if the panic-meter gets too high. 

So yeah, strawberries and yogurt. 

I’ll keep you updated. 

A Positive Reminder: 

“Look at where you are now versus one month ago.” 

One month ago I wasn't eating. One month ago I was dying. 

I ate soup today. And liked it. 

Enough said. 

Wizard Talk: 

Continued Homework: 

Watch Brene Brown’s video at least once a week. Glean something new from it each time. 

(Not) Pathological Lying:

Real Talk: I thought I was a pathological liar. 

Honestly, I did. (No pun intended).

All my life I have lied. It started when I was a child. 

“Morgan, why did you lie about that?” 

“Honesty is the best policy.” 

It only got worse as I grew up. It happens all the time. I don't even mean to do it. I just do. It just slips out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I spend the next however long (days, weeks, months, years) trying to cover it up. 

Real Talk: I feel so much shame about this. Like, At-The-Core-of-My-Self-Hatred kind of shame. 

Realest Talk: It is the biggest strain on my relationship with my Dad. 

My father operates on truth. Honestly, he is the most honest person I know. (Pun intended). Yet, I lie. I lie to him constantly. But here’s the thing. I don't do it on purpose. I don't do it to be malicious, or mean, or unkind. I do it to make myself look better. I do it because I don't want to let him down, because I want him to be proud of me. 

I do it because I want to look perfect. 

“Morgan, you are not a compulsive liar. You are a compulsive people pleaser.” 

Yet again, the Wizard has outsmarted me. I crave approval. I crave approval in every aspect of my life. I crave authenticity, and just want people to think more of me. So I fabricate more. Or I avoid what I can’t perfect, what makes me look bad; the things that scare me. I look at myself, and see that I am not enough, and create more to cover it up. 

“Compulsive People Pleaser.”

That sounds a hell of a lot better than “Compulsive Liar.”

Real Talk: That doesn't mean it’s okay.

New Homework Part One: Realize what situations I feel anxiety about. (This usually triggers bulimic urges, but I’ll get to that in a minute) Make a deliberate effort to tell the truth, or correct myself if I do lie. 

“Be a flawed human being like everyone else and you’ll feel a hell of a lot better.” 

Okay Wizard. 

Alphabet Soup: 

“I don't want to give you alphabet soup, but you’re on the OCD Spectrum.”

Side Note: On top of being a genius, the Wizard is also funny as hell. 

But anyway. I digress. 

I’m not surprised. Like, not one ounce of me is surprised. 

I know I’m OCD. I am perfectly aware of how perfectionism rules my life, right down to the tiniest detail.  If I notice something is out of place, I HAVE to get up and fix it. Everything in my life has to be in its place. Everything has to be just so.

Side Note: It’s honestly so exhausting. I feel like I’m on a hamster wheel, constantly trying to make things perfect, constantly searching for control. 

I beat myself up if I don't go to the gym, if I don't clean my room on the day I decided I would, if I don't finish everything on my to-do list. Basically I beat myself up a LOT, cause let’s be real, we’re all human and stuff doesn't get always done. 

Except, I don't allow myself to think that. 

Except, I think its my fault; that I am a failure, that I am imperfect.

Hence, bulimic urges.

I had a moment this week. I had a moment this week, where I was working on my bullet journal, and I hit a road block. A book. I couldn't draw a book. 

I should go throw up.

I’m not joking. 

It’s usually like that. I think most people assume that when I need to purge, I’m thinking about my Mom, or school, or life, or him.

Nope.

Stupid sh*t like cartoon books. 

I wish I was joking. 

So what do I do? 

“Control avoidance, rather than let it control you.”

Fun Fact: Bulimia equals avoidance. Throwing up is a release, a way to escape a problem (however small), rather than face the thing that’s actually bothering you. Or, in other words, a coping mechanism. A  sh*tty one, but a coping mechanism just the same. Unfortunately for me, it’s the one I’ve been relying on for the past 3 years, whenever there’s a bump in the road, or things don’t seem to be going my way. 

Time to find a new one Morgs. 

New Homework Part Two: 

Watch Reed Wilson’s series, “Tolerating the Discomfort”. 

This will serve to build what the Wizard calls an “active toolkit”; strategies that I can use to deal with anxiety, rather than going to toss my cookies. 

Watch “Living Brave” with Brene Brown and Oprah Winfrey. 

Oprah for homework? 

Yes please. 

Morgan Gets Shut Down Part Two: 

“Gym?” 

“Absolutely not.”

Sh*t.

BUT. 

Strength training is okay. Kind of. Well, not the kind of strength training Morgan’s Brain thinks is okay, but the kind of strength training that is okay for Morgan right now.

Cue the 8 lb weights. 

I’ve also been cleared to maybe join a therapeutic yoga class. This may be something fun to do with friends.

A social event that doesn't involve food?

Double win. 

I really hope this helps with my anxiety. I also just really don't want to lose muscle tone. I think (and I hope I’m right) that focusing on getting stronger will make the prospect (reality) of gaining weight less daunting. By focusing on my body’s strength and abilities, I can focus less on the aspects of my body I don't like, or flaws that I (Morgan’s Brain) will inevitably find with weight gain. 

It’s funny. He brought it up months ago. He’s going to say “I told you so.” 

He should. 

He was right. 

For once.

Weight Talk: 

A goal weight. 

120 lbs.

Real Talk: I am completely, utterly terrified. 

I know its necessary, but still,  the word TERROR lights up my brain, in blinking red, with fire and lights and lasers. 

Neural pyrotechnics.

F*ck.

“You still have a LOT of weight to gain,” says the Wizard. 

Real Talk: I’m happy about this. Not the gaining weight part, but the fact that I’m so thin. 

I don't really know how to feel about these thoughts. I know they’re ED thoughts, but I also know that they are a part of the recovery process. 

I just cant let them win. 

“No negotiating.” 

You hear that Morgs? 

Just because you’re feeling better, just because you’re less tired, doesn't mean that you can stop trying. 

Just because you feel bloated,  just because you’re gaining weight, doesn't mean that you can give up. 

Cause you wouldn't be gaining anything.

There is nothing to gain on the scale.

There is nothing to gain in front of the toilet.

There is nothing to gain by dying. 

Here’s what you’ll gain by living. 

The chance to teach, to touch hearts and minds. 

The chance to travel, to expand your horizons. 

The chance to laugh, to love and be loved. 

The chance to be happy, to love yourself fiercely, to celebrate you and you struggles, each and every day. 

Seem worth it? 

It is.