Falling for the First Time

I have an excuse for not posting in such a terribly long time: I have fallen in love.

Yes, my dear readers, it was inevitable. With the sweet sun on my skin and the golden hue surrounding me I fell like a middle school girl. And like all great relationships, it's over practically before it started.

For the first time in my life I fell in love with Fall. Although I've always claimed this my favorite season I was never truly aware of how magical it could be. I've spent every other Autumn in a classroom, sucking in the crisp air and drinking the image of cascading leaves as I ran between classes. The Man was robbing me and I didn't event know it; I was experiencing Fall not in its true glory but during my snatches of time between class, meetings, and work. And of course there was last Fall, which I barely remember, because I was much too busy worrying, calculating, and feeling quite hungry and miserable.

Have you ever wanted to really experience the beauty that is Fall? If so, I offer a simple solution: graduate from college and do not commit to a typical, office-centered job. Go to interviews, but ensure that they are at every compass point of the city and take the scenic route there. Sign up as a gardener on the weekends. Run outside in every open-space possible. In fact, find a single trail to frequent at periodic intervals so that you can monitor the world as it navigates the majesty of the season.

If you do this, you will fall for Fall.

With the first freeze and the first snow well behind us, Fall is now merging with Winter. I am so grateful for having lived this past season as I have. With little true experience I still assert that this was a particularly glorious season. Every morning the world emerged slowly, rolling around in its bed of leaves as the sun gently warmed and matured it. Harvests were fruitful; even the small vegetable gardens that I worked in yielded massive, juicy tomatoes and zucchinis feet in length. Their owners offered the booty to me and I ate them on the spot, letting the tomato juice trace sweet lines through the dirt on my chin. I spent an entire day making pumpkin pie with a friend- we even picked the pumpkin from the patch and I missed my Eating Disorders Anonymous group to stay and chow on a second piece (I thought that was sufficiently recovery-focused). Most mornings I woke up early enough to watch the sun rise and was outside to see the sun set. I spent many days buried knee-deep in flowers, unperturbed by discomfort because the temperature was somehow always just right.

Most people lament the fact that Fall turns into Winter; it's always too fast, they say. I lack any identification with that sentiment this year. Fall developed, ran its course, and is now complete. It was sweet and kind, evidence of the natural rate of things. It provided us with gifts and and we were thankful for them. Fall knew that the end would come; it has come every year past and will come every year in the future. It looked forward to that changing point but remained enveloped in the moment, knowing that living a day worried about tomorrow only deteriorated that day itself. The grace with which Fall now takes its leave is possible only because of the grace with which it sensationalized every day of its existence.

I remember this time last year. I was beginning to get cold; people with eating disorders often lose the ability to regulate their body temperatures and Fall was a signal that I would spend the next few months pretending like the cold wasn't threatening to permanently seep into my bones. I didn't celebrate Halloween and I spent a large portion of Thanksgiving trying to walk off my meal. I was so involved in my Blackberry that I hardly every looked into the sky when outside. And I hated Fall for moving so fast, for signalling it's end by simply choosing to start. I didn't want Fall to change and yet I knew that I couldn't be happy in it.

For the past month or so, Fall has been one of my greatest teachers. It has taught me to embrace the moment and rejoice in the fruits of my own labor. It has reminded me to be bright and colorful, to keep an extra jacket on hand in case the wind blows, and that the dropping of leaves is a natural part of the life-cycle. It has taught me to embrace the process of change as its own entity, separate from that which beget it and that which will derive of it. It reminded me of how much I love to be in the open sun. It kept me in touch with my body, eating so that I could spend long days doing yard work. And it did all of this is the most clever and forgiving ways.

I want to live my life like Fall. I want to be in a continuous state of harvesting that which is nourishing and dropping that which no longer serves a purpose. I want to explore all of my colors. I want to embrace change not as a goal but as an endeavor within itself. I want to be grateful for my past and move toward my future by utilizing the moment at hand. I want to be full, healthy, and fun.

You can call me Autumn. I'm in love.

Shivering Someone's Timbers...

Happy Halloween! I will be posting tomorrow morning- so sorry for the long delay. I miss you!

Cohabitation

A friend recently told me that I was an "enterprising individual" because of the many silly little ways I've endeavored to stretch my own buck or solicit the bucks of others. In reflecting on this statement I've decided that my next "enterprise" is getting NPR to pay me for representing their stories every single day of my life. I'm the most "NOW" thing I know, damnit; take a look at the recent headlines:

"55% of people 18-29 are unemployed"- I'm making money for the things I don't love and paying to do the things I do. I'm not really unemployed or underemployed. I'm backwards employed. It's all the same.

"Middle Eastern leaders are disappearing"- my Moroccan best friend is lost to me somewhere in Argentina with her new husband. I need a satellite to locate her, STAT.

"Gas shortages expected due to fighting in the Middle East"- Gas shortages are expected due to fighting between income and expenditures in my bank account.

"Bipartisan government doesn't agree on anything"- There's Emily, and then there's her foe, Emily's Eating Disorder. They sit in the same chamber and debate the same ideas but Lord knows they're not going to agree.

Last week NPR ran a little story on cohabitation. Apparently, many families are now moving into single households to save money and better utilize their resources. Lo and behold, look who just moved back into her parent's house...

Ah, the joys of cohabitation. I don't believe anyone can truly understand the domino effect until they live with another. There are currently five people in my family; multiply that by however many dominoes exist in a set and you've got a full-blown tsuanami. Hyperbole aside, I need to admit that moving back in with my family is the single most scary step I've taken since going into treatment. Actually, it feels a lot like treatment.

There are a million things that I worry about when considering the implications of living with my family. First, there's what society tells me to think. My old roommate and I recently had a conversation about how "so many lazy people are just OK with living with their families and taking jobs they don't like." Then there's the fact that at 23-years-old I "should" be working my first real job, beginning to pay off my bills, living in my own apartment, etc. Says "them."

That's the first layer. The second layer is what the people immediately around me think. What will those friends say who voted me "The Next Oprah" in high school or told me that "one day I would be President" in college?

Layer three: my immediate family. How many terrible repercussions might come of my moving in? My sisters have to combine rooms, absorbing my impact. My parents have to take care of another person under their roof. Then there's one of my biggest worries of all: living with people who can be affected by your emotions. I've found that with my family I am much more likely to vent, complain and act dramatic. I know that they'll always love me so I find myself become extra emotional, belting my feelings because it feels kind of good to be over-the-top and in-the-moment. Doing this on the phone is one thing. Doing this every time I walk in the door is too much of another. I've got to learn how better to regulate my emotions.

Next is the dark layer: my eating disorder. I would be a liar if I didn't say that I've been struggling to keep up the weight gain and limit my exercise; I'm now trying to put in thousands more calories than the average person. Living at home might be a godsend in that I always have access to tasty food and often someone else to make it for me. But to my eating disorder this constant temptation to "indulge" feels a wire sponge scratching my temples. My eating disorder whines that my parents will notice how much I exercise or how little I eat. My eating disorder compares my food intake to my that of my family's, tells me to eat the "light" food that is ubiquitous in my house, and shows me how to restrict. Living at home is one of the biggest challenges to my eating disorder yet, which may also mean it's one of the best things I can do.

Finally, after everything else, I wonder how I actually feel about this move. I feel scared...nervous...my lungs constrict a little bit and my eyes seem to slide a little further back in my head. I feel guilty, very guilty, and a little ashamed. But I also feel warm, comforted, and loved. I feel a little less bogged down by decisions. And I feel like it's silly to impose judgment on these emotions. My time is better spent unpacking.

I'm here; that's really all there is to it. I know that the way to mitigate any of my worries is to do what needs to be done: find the strength to make the best of this situation, count my blessings within it, and use the break to shore up my resources for the next surge forward.

Wait, didn't NPR just report a win for the good guys?

My check will come any day now...

Today's 10

I'm about to go into the 4th situation today in which I must "network" (read: sell myself) and I'm not feeling very impressive, worthy, or perky. Take the antonyms of those words and you've summed my current state quite nicely. So, here goes:

10 Things I'm grateful for today:
1.) Living alone.
2.) Having the option of living at my parent's house again.
3.) Guys named Jose who can fix a clogged drain lickety-split.
4.) Vintage black lace dresses.
5.) Being a mystery shopper (paid to eat dinner and critique someone else's service?? Yes, please!)
6.) Strong business women who are willing to meet with women like me.
7.) The coffee guy from Turkey on 16th street mall.
8.) Networking events with free alcohol and food.
9.) My mother
10.) Chalkboards (which allow me to communicate with my roommate despite the fact that she isn't speaking to me)

10 Things I like About Myself:
1.) I dress well.
2.) I find good deals.
3.) I'm curious about other people.
4.) I'm doing the best I can.
5.) The best I can do is pretty good.
6.) I'm facing my fears.
7.) My eyes.
8.) That I really, truly, genuinely love my family.
9.) I try my very best to show people that I love them.
10.) I say "thank-you."

Now, it's your turn.

Let's make new habits, you and me together.

10 Things I am Grateful for Today

It goes without saying that the awareness and expression of gratitude is one of the best ways to connect with positivism and the spirit. In particularly unpleasant situations the expression of gratitude can be a means to pull oneself out of minute obsessions and anxieties. It doesn't mean that feeling sad/depressed/scared/anxious isn't valid; it just means that other things are still happening, too. Gratitude to attitude, that's the translation I'm working on. So here goes todays':

1.) My grandmothers and the fact that we all have birthdays in the same month.
2.) Yoga studios that have so many students that they don't notice if someone sneaks in for free.
3.) People who are curious. Just simply, purely, curious.
4.) Leaves falling.
5.) Little sisters. Talented, loving, strong, little sisters.
6.) Roommates who shop at Costco and can't finish all of their edamame beans.
7.) Planning vacations, no matter how short.
8.) The recognition that I am self-absorbed.
9.) Sunshine.
10.) Entrepreneurial spirit.

There exists a particularly difficult corollary to the expression of gratitude. That is the expression of things that one is proud of or likes about themselves. My bad days almost always relate directly to my self-absorbed obsession over all the ways that I haven't done everything well enough, all the ways I feel inadequate, or the things that I feel hopeless to alter. This list is a lot more difficult to publicize. I want to ask you not to judge me and I'm judging myself for doing so.

Ten things I like about myself:
1.) That I have finally accepted that my hair will always be short.
2.) I do not let life run me over.
3.) I'm creative and a problem-solver.
4.) I'm doing my best.
5.) My best is pretty good.
6.) I make really good food concoctions that I call "casseroles."
7.) I like going places alone and meeting new people.
8.) I love learning new things, especially if they're complicated and scientific and I've really got no hope of retaining any of the information.
9.) Sometimes people think I have an accent.
10.) I like my big Tonelli nose.

Now, it's your turn.

In a final act of positivism-building this is a picture of my best friends at the wedding I recently attended. The blushing bride is the gorgeous angel on the right.

Status Update on Housing and Jobs

Dear All,

I'm still in the jobs search and I've decided to stop looking for jobs specific to my major or area of interest. Right now, I'm just trying to pay my bills and hopefully get to South America within the year, where more job prospects and a graduate degree await. I'm always taking advice, ideas for leads and other connections, so I'd love to hear yours if you've got them!

After many months of continuously struggling to make my living situation whole and tolerable, including changes in management and roommates, I've decided to move out. Luckily, I never signed a lease. I am looking for a new place but have got a very tight budget and am unwilling to sign much of a lease. Rooms for rent or sublet are perfect. I've been posting ads for myself as a Professional House-Sitter. If yourself or anyone you know of is leaving town for a while and needs a live-in house sitter (I can garden and take care of pets as well) please send them my way! Finally, I was thinking that I might try to get a job in an apartment complex- two birds with one stone. If you know of any hiring, let me know.

Current statistics bemoan my state. 55% of people my age are unemployed; it's the worst time to look for a job if you're 18-29 since World War II. And craigslist.com ads are full of older couples and individuals who can no longer afford to live alone and are looking for rooms to rent in other people's homes. It's a weird, weird time, and I've got to remind myself not to be so self-absorbed to think that I'm alone in this struggle.

Final Installment of the Very Vacation-y Saga: Wandering Alone

I vacation on the East Coast alone. Of course, I was going to stay with and visit friends and family but I knew that no one had the time to entertain me. I spent time with others when they were available and the rest of the time I spent doing exactly what I wanted to. Of course, I had a list of all the things I wanted to do and see and merrily spent my vacation checking them off. I never anticipated the profound effect that this alone time would have on me.

The first thing I realized when I was wandering through Washington D.C. and New York was how important it is that people are able to spend time with themselves. I look back on my formative years living in one city or another with my young parents playing by myself. I'm very grateful for those hours that allowed me to explore to caverns of my own imagination. Tapping back into that quiet, curious side of ourselves is one of the healthiest ways we can honor our own thought-processes. There's also something to be said for being seen alone in public, especially in tourist areas. Go to a museum alone and watch the families and couples around you; sometimes it's like being on the outside of a fishbowl. Then stick your pinkie in and stir it around. It's fascinating how open to chat total strangers are, especially if you're a young woman who's only obvious goal is to see and hear. That's an important key to being alone: being willing to make friends. Because when you're alone you've got the power not to. You can be as autonomous, quiet, and shy as you please. Or you can strike up a conversation, make a new friend. You are singularly your own desires and actions. How often can we say that?

The most profound impact of my being alone during my vacation was actually the very succinct recognition that I didn't in fact feel alone. This hit me one rainy day when I was trying my best to make the most of another long, winding expanse of alone-ness. Sometimes it got me a little down: it's hard to entertain oneself in foreign cities (and on a tight budget) for days on end no matter how much one respects the time. On this particular day I trudged through the New York rain from cafe to cafe, waiting for something interesting to happen. As I walked along, the thought crossed my mind that I was lonely. But it dinged around like a marble in a hollow bowl. My mind told me that I should be lonely in that moment. My heart and soul didn't feel that way at all; they felt the power of something walking by my side, holding my hand in the most warm, pleasant manner. See, the whole time I was on my vacation I felt very spiritually connected to my divine entity, named Fate. Beware: the term "Fate" is a bit of a misnomer (to be explained in a later post). But I've taken to utilizing this ideology to express thank-you for all the great things, little and small, that happen to me and to ask for help when I need it. I've become very connected to this spirit-being. The whole time I spent alone I was acutely aware that this being was by my side. And I never once felt lonely.

In my Eating Disorders Anonymous group, we might call this a "Milestone."

Wandering alone on my vacation taught me a lot of things. It wouldn't be a full lesson on the self without revealing some of the darker sides of my psyche, as well. The problem with being alone on vacation when you're recovering from an eating disorder is that you've got a lot of space in your mind for disordered thoughts to infiltrate. My vacation was rife with little triggers: all the walking involved, extra time for working out, excuses for "tourist runs," lots of new and foreign foods, a tight budget, and a lack of social interaction. My meal plan was completely lost to wandering the city and trying whatever new foods struck my fancy. I'm proud of the many previously off-limits foods I indulged in. On the other hand, it was so easy to over-exercise, so easy to justify not spending money on snacks, so easy for my mind to tell me why this was OK. In retrospect, my trip highlighted one very important part of my eating disorder: it's effects are best mitigated by spending time involved with tasks and engaged with others. When I'm active and conversing I notice my hunger cues quickly. If I'm underfed I can't function in conversation, I get irritated and bored with tasks, I fumble through interactions, and I get headaches. When I'm alone I find it much easier to ignore or avoid these issues; I can float along in a sort of dream-state.

When I visited my nutritionist two weeks later I had lost a lot of weight. Nothing that I can't gain back but it was devastating all the same. The thing was, I knew it. I could feel it in my body, the way my clothes fit, the way I always seemed hungry and yet distrustful of that hunger. Just wait to eat, spread out your meals, maybe you'll eat less- that's what ED said. And I could feel it in my mind...sometimes, I didn't know where my mind even was.

Losing weight is a bad, bad thing when you're in recovery. If you give the ED space to take over it fills those mind-gutters like a monsoon in the summer. You've got to build up the levees and keep the thoughts at bay with a strong, clear head. I'm proud to say that I reached my first weight-gain goal and am (hopefully) nearing my second. At this pace I should be back where I need to be in a couple of weeks. It was scary and depressing but I'm determined not to let it get the best of me. Every time I feel the urge to restrict, I remind myself not to. It's my mind at stake.