Archive for June, 2012

Fun Friday! I was in dire need of a giggle last week and had many a giggle to this gem. It’s long, as it’s the outtakes from all of the Friends series, but it’s so worth it.

I love Lisa Kudrow’s uncontrollable laughter – I too get the giggles at the most seemingly unfunny things, and Matt LeBlanc is brilliant.

You’re welcome.



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This is a re-blog from Dropping the F-Bomb (Fat, That Is) by Jennifer because it’s brilliant.

I can relate to this, especially making up an excuse to the cashier, until I became too paranoid and went to several shops to get all the binge food I needed.

Can you relate, or sympathise?


Coming out of the closet… Part 1.

Hi. My name is Jennifer, and (insert big, deep breath) I am a closet binge eater.

Here are some of the symptoms of closet eaters:
  • Feeling shame and embarrassment about eating in public
  • Binging on comfort foods, junk foods, and sweets when alone
  • Hoarding food and hiding empty food containers
  • Eating a large amount of food in one sitting
  • Feeling powerless to stop eating
  • Binging but not purging
Only recently recognized by health professionals as an actual eating disorder, this has been my primary coping mechanism and comfort for almost 30 years, with my first recollection bringing me back to about 8 years old.
For practically my whole life, when I had no sense of self worth or confidence, and absolutely no regard for my health, I used food to numb myself from the pain of, well……..everything... Exclusions from friends, ridicule from strangers, abuse from my mother, abandonment from my father, drama in social circles, stress at work. Every single rejection from a man.
No matter how big or small the pain of the situation, food was my comfort.
When I didn’t have the vocabulary or the strength to stand up for myself, food was there for me.
When I was swirling in the shitstorm of teenage drama, emotions and hormones, food was there for me.
When I was watching everyone around me attain their dreams, while I sat paralysed by fear, food was there for me.
When life, schedules, and time felt out of control and chaotic, food was there for me.
When I was lonely, angry, sad, feeling unworthy or unimportant, food was there for me.
When I felt misunderstood and ignored, food was there for me.
Food was what I had control over, when everything else felt out of control and out of reach.
It felt like that all. the. time.
I remember being 8, 10, 12… years old and eating the meal my mother prepared, and when my grandmother would ask “Have you eaten yet?” my response was usually “Nope.” so that I could get a second dinner. Or breakfast. Or lunch.
When I was out with friends, I would often be pre-planning my trip to the convenience store on my way home. Not only what I would buy, but how would I sneak it past my mother and into my room when I got home.
When my mother left for work at night, despite having already eaten, I would scrounge together my babysitting money and order take out.
When I was older, I would secretively eat in my car before meeting friends for dinner.
Never wanting any of the store clerks, or food service people to think I was eating all this food alone, I would be sure to make some comment about picking up things for friends as well. Why else would one person buy a 20-pack of chicken nuggets, or 2 big bags of chips and 3 chocolate bars, or a large pizza after all?
It has only been in the last 3 years that I have begun digging deep into why I was using food as a crutch. Why was I caught up in a cycle of self loathing that would find me elbow deep in a bag of potato chips to soothe my soul? And then back into the potato chips, because I had only numbed the feelings around whatever was bothering me, and now I hated myself, too.
And so the cycle went… it sometimes still goes. Old habits die hard, as we all know.
Closet eating, not unlike so many other harmful vices – drugs, smoking, drinking, sex – can often be related back and tied to something bigger, something not yet addressed, some pain or fear we are still holding on to.
I know exactly when I started lying about food and using it as a crutch.
But that is a story for another day.
Have an awesome day!
Know that you are loved.

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I am in need of some positive body Image today. Since I love Pin Up Girl Clothing and Gia Genevieve, I thought I’d post something short and sweet to remind me that beauty is subjective. To me, Gia Genevieve has a fantastic hourglass figure, sex appeal and style. She’s gorgeous but she’s curvy, which to some is not as beautiful a rectangular body shape. Plus she has red hair.

What do you think of Gia Genevieve? And who’s your style icon?


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I had an epiphany last night (that’s not a euphemism).

Last week I realised I needed to try to push through the depression to go for a walk each day, something I haven’t been successful in. Last night I realised that instead of just wanting to be slim and healthy, I have to believe I can get there.

My counsellor mentions that I have to believe in myself pretty often. She believes I can get over this whole Eating Disorder malarkey, but she says I need to believe in myself. I figured when I started to lose weight maybe I’d start believing I could do it, but really I was sure it was impossible.

Last night I was reading I Can Make You Thin by Paul McKenna. It loses points for having the word ‘thin’ in the title, which to me conjures up an unattainable aesthetic that I don’t want to be, but it was recommended by a fellow blogger, who has since deleted his account. There is a visualisation technique in it which requires you to imagine yourself ‘thin’, imagine seeing a film of yourself doing everyday tasks and you’re slim. The book asks you to envisage how you sound, how you talk to yourself. And then when you’ve done this, imagine you are slim.

In my imagination, my slim self – note, not thin, not skinny, I will always have a healthy bum – was happy. It kind of surprised me just how happy my slim self was, and in my slim-self fantasy, I was eating a strawberry and laughing, like it was no big deal.

Strawberries aren’t exactly the food of death, but I’d be very aware of eating the right amount of strawberries rather than too many that I’m overeating or too little that I won’t get 1 of my 5 a day. In my imagination, I’m aware that I’m eating a strawberry, but not bothered by it.

And that’s what ‘recovery’ means to me.

I know some of these thoughts and obsessions are never going to go away, and I hope to be able to acknowledge them in the future but ultimately not be overpowered by them.

An ex-housemate once left a box of chocolates lying on the sofa overnight that she’d forgotten about, and it blew my mind. How could she have left chocolate, a half full box of chocolates downstairs AWAY FROM HER on the sofa where anybody could have had them ALL NIGHT and not been thinking about them every second?

I couldn’t fathom it. I kept looking at them, obsessing about them for her – I would never have eaten them, they weren’t mine. There was temptation though, don’t go thinking I’m a saint.

I don’t know if I’ll ever have that attitude to food, that nonchalance. I think that’s too far the other way for me. But recovery to me means that I’d acknowledge the box of chocolates, accept the thoughts of stealing them and bingeing on them and somehow trying to replace them and eat the exact same chocolates so she wouldn’t be suspicious, and then move on.

What does ‘recovery’ mean to you? And have you ever been in that will-I-get-caught-if-I-nab-that-biscuit kind of situation?


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When I am taking my vitamins, eating my daily breakfast of peanut butter oatmeal to keep my cholesterol down, when I am eating three meals and three snacks a day, when I am exercising regularly – that is when nobody comments on my weight because it is simply and humbly normal, a weight that rests between bone-thin and overweight. It doesn’t look spectacular in a swimsuit, but it doesn’t look half bad in an evening gown either. It’s so in-between it’s almost mundane. Maybe that’s what our problem is. We’re all afraid of not standing out, of being just another worker among workers. We don’t have the courage to be normal.

Now that’s fucked up. Period.

Such a brilliant point, please read this post from Another Piece of Cake and tell me what you think.


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Fun Friday!! So someone posted this the other day on a GOMI thread and I thought it’s definitely Fun Friday worthy. ED treatment problems – check out the site and let me know what you think! I’ve never been an inpatient but could relate to some of the therapy related gifs, i had a good giggle.

And as Fun Friday video isn’t complete without some visual fun…ness, here is a video of a micro pig. Watch until the end, it’s the cutest thing.

You’re welcome.


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In my last therapy session my counsellor mentioned that my life might be a tad consumed by my eating disorder. She was asking about things that I do that don’t relate, as in when do I see my friends, what are my hobbies, what do I do for leisure etc.

I’ve always known on paper I seem kind of boring. I like writing and blogging but I struggle to write fiction because I never think what I write is good enough, and then I can’t really talk to people about blogging unless I mention Eating Disorders. I don’t want everyone knowing about my problems at the moment, especially not if they know me to be smiley and then BOOM! Depression central… you get the point.

But the thing that stuck with me since therapy is the ‘friends’ part of my life friends. I don’t see my friends that often, about once a fortnight, and I sometimes cancel on them. Sometimes I really don’t want to see my friends, even though I know it’ll be fun, because I get a surge of anxiety that makes me want to sit on the sofa and complain about boredom.

The theme of the week has been ‘feel the fear’ and although I’ve been walking some days and succeeding in 2/3 of my goals, I have been avoiding social situations like the plague. I’m dodging my friends, not texting them when I should, I’m relieved if they cancel … and I realised, my friends come second to my Eating Disorder.

I know, it’s kind of tragic.

When I meet new people, they always ask what I do. I’m on support allowance which deems me unfit to work (signed off by the Doctor), I blog about Eating Disorders and every trip outside of my house is a struggle battling my anxiety. I wouldn’t want to share any of this information with new people who only get this glimpse of a boring and complicated existence.

And then the people that I already know, I don’t like to tell them any of it either. I recently told an ex-housemate all of the above, and I felt I needed to say afterwards “but… I’m not crazy, ok?”

I’m sure that when I disclose any of this information they’ll picture me in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, clutching 3 of my 37 cats and staring slack-jawed at the computer screen.

I know in my heart of hearts that my friends are moving forwards and I’m staying still. 2 of my friends are getting married this summer, most of my friends have jobs and are in relationships and other friends who aren’t cat-ladies-in-waiting. I’m still jobless, making a huge effort just to go for a walk everyday.

I really need to get a job and socialise with new people, but my embarrassment over my body and my situation holds me back. And if I did get to know some new people, would I tell them what I blog about, what I’m dealing with or do I keep it to myself and make it seem like all I do it go for walks everyday?

Eh, I think I’ve out-complained myself. Which is a good thing – I’ve gotten it off my chest, now I can figure out what I want to do. Enlighten me, how are your relationships with your friends, do your problems affect them?


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