So Horrifyingly Gross I Had To Share

Well, I had a truly disturbing experience at the gym this morning.  While getting ready for the day, a woman was prepping for a swim next to me.  Not unusual.  Except this lady was so large (400+ pounds, easy) she had to sit while doing her prep work.  She sat in a chair, butt-naked, in the middle of the main walkway letting out these, almost constant, loud grunts of exertion.  Tie back her hair, grunt.  Bend over, grunt. Lift her arms, grunt.  Step into her swimsuit, grunt.

At this point I’m thinking, “okay, she’s a little obnoxious, but good for her getting to the gym!”  Then she stood up.

There on the chair was the largest, nastiest, skid-mark I have ever seen.  Thank goodness she had put down a towel first, or the chair would have been ruined.  I waited for the lady to deal with the issue, but she just walked off and left it there!  Chair in the middle of the walkway, huge skid-mark for everyone to see.  The implications are horrifying: a) what if the cleaning staff just wash the towel and throw it back into circulation, b) how much feces is this woman going to leave floating in the pool water?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of any person who pursues fitness.  And I’m sure it must be extremely embarrassing to be so large you can’t properly wipe your behind, but to leave your soiled linens in the middle of the locker room for someone else to clean up?  That’s disgusting and inexcusable.

I was so grossed out by the sight and smell (YES, THE SKID-MARK WAS SO LARGE IT FILLED THE LOCKER ROOM WITH ITS STENCH) that I wasn’t able to stomach breakfast.  Ick.

Ahem.  So that’s how my day started.  Hope yours is going better than mine...

Does The Good Outweight The Bad?

I just got off the phone with my "coach", i.e. over-the-phone goal coaching offered through my work.  He was the one I finally told about my ED.  He was the one that offered the resources I used to schedule an appointment with a counselor.  Turns out, my honesty has lead to me being "excused" from the coaching program.  Read: Kicked out of the program because I am too damaged.

Don't get me wrong, I really couldn't give two fucks about the coaching program itself.  Not once in the six years I participated did it help me reach a goal.  That was done on my own, with determination and hard work.  I sign up for the program for one reason, and only one reason: it is a requirement of qualifying for a large discount on my health insurance.  When I asked about this, my "coach" informed me that I would have to contact my Human Resources department to find out if the requirement can be waived.  Sorry, nothing else he can do to help.

Now I have the choice of paying an extra $600 a year for health insurance, or fessing up to my employer that I have an ED.  Fuck.  Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck.

This whole reaching-out-for-help thing better pan out, because it is already wreaking havoc on my life.  On that note, my first counseling appointment is tomorrow morning and I have ZERO idea what to expect.  Any advice or hints would be much appreciated.

On a complete different note, have you guys see this amazing video (only 1:30 minutes, not a huge time commitment)? http://time.com/3669876/this-girl-can-ad-sport-england/  As someone who touts exercise as a cure for pretty much any ailment, I'm incredibly excited.  The U.S. would do well to follow suit with a similar campaign.

I Dedicate This Post To Ruby

I did something terribly, horrifyingly, wonderful today.  With sweaty palms and shaky legs, I held my phone to my ear and spoke the words out loud, "I believe I have an eating disorder, and I need help."  The voice, canned and tinny, barely missed a beat.  It spouted out resources and reassurances.  It said they would follow up in a few weeks to see how treatment was going.

Two calls later and I am waiting for a counselor to contact me to set up an appointment.  My stomach has been one continuous somersault.  I am not entirely sure I am ready for this, yet I am incredibly excited to begin.

I have Ruby to thank.  If you don't currently follow her blog, you really should start.  She has been a huge inspiration to me.  Watching her change her circumstances and life, and seeing how healthy and happy she is because of those changes, has shifted the way I think about Addiction and Eating Disorders (they deserve capital letters, really, they do).  Unlike other recovery blogs I follow, Ruby is not afraid to talk about her pitfalls and relapses.  (Seriously, some blogs make recovery look unachievably easy.)  Instead, she uses each stumble as a learning opportunity.  Without fail, she picks herself back up and continues on.

So, Ruby, if you're reading this, thank you.  I don't comment often on your blog (or on anyone's for that matter), but I read every one of your posts.  Hmmm, just now realized how much of a stalker that makes me.  Ah well, all the same, keep up the amazing work.  You're changing lives, you beautiful woman, you!

WIll It Always Be This Way?

My mouth waters as the scent of baking bread fills the house.  A standing mixer has temporarily taken up residence in my kitchen.  Its presence is meant to make my abundance of holiday baking easier and less time consuming.  It has had the added benefit of tempting Penguin into rolling out loaf after loaf of his amazingly delicious bread.  I've eaten more refined carbs in the last two weeks than I have in the last year.  Up until last night, I've even been okay with the intake.

I finish the last of my vegetable stirfry and place the empty bowl in the sink.  Penguin's most recent loaf, a rosemary and cracked pepper soda bread, sits on the counter.  I decide there is a just enough room in my stomach for a thin slice.  Dry, no butter.  My fingers wrap around the knife handle.

"Geez, my bread is going to make you fat again."

The statement immediately sparks a fight or flight response.  I drop the knife and step away from the cutting board.  A gnawing hole opens in my stomach, grows and eats away at my insides.  I want to cry and scream and run away.

...make you fat again.

I smile at him and comment, "yes, I have perhaps been overindulging."  Leaving the bread where it is, I excuse myself to the bathroom.

...fat again.

I purge as quietly as I can.  I purge until I am empty, clean and pure and full of shining light.  The euphoria is short lived.  

Will is always be this way?  Will every stupid, thoughtless comment put my ED in control of my actions?  Because I know Penguin's comments are unintentionally hurtful.  He is naturally skinny, and has been all his life.  Him and his daughter (who is 5'8"and 98 pounds) constantly joke about "getting fat" after a big meal, or a weekend of splurging.  To them, it is just words. 

Still, the comments hurt.  It hurts when he jiggles my belly fat with a grin, even if he does the same to himself.  I don't know how to tell him how much it hurts, without revealing everything. 

I'm just rambling at this point.  Nothing will change.  It never does.