Monty Python Had It Right

Hello world, I am still here!  I post so infrequently I doubt anyone actually reads my blather anymore.  Still, it feels good to put a piece of myself out there.  Cathartic.

Why am I posting? I AM PREGNANT!  Seventeen weeks today.  It is so unimaginably weird, and surreal, and... I don't know, amazing.  I have never felt less sure of myself.  Or more sure of myself. I am elated. I am terrified.  Mostly I try not to think about trying to squeeze a watermelon out of my body through a hole the size of a lemon. 

Onto obligatory ED news.  I am still 100% purge free since spring.  Amazingly, I am also mostly binge free as well - can't even remember my last true binge.  It is liberating being able to tell my ED to fuck off, mate.  But, to be completely honest, there is a sense of loss.  It was so easy and convenient to have something to embrace anytime life became difficult.  Bad day?  Nothing a giant carton of ice cream won't cure.  Husband piss you off?  There's always a trough full of mac and cheese to make you forget.  Never mind the high must be followed by the low of purging.

So what to do when your coping mechanism is taken away?

I haven't figured that out completely yet.  My support system helps me through the worst of it, even if they don't fully understand what they're helping me through.  I found that compartmentalizing life helps.  I was recently passed up for a promotion at work.  It was strictly political. My department is falling apart, and they needed to hire someone who could help shoulder the burden.  Unfortunately, the person they wanted would not accept my current pay-grade (give me the promotion, hire her to replace me).  So after stringing my along for six months, promising me the position, they gave her the promotion instead.

On a strictly unemotional standpoint, the move makes sense.  The person will be an incredible asset to the department.  She currently works for a department under my purview, and I am continually impressed with her abilities.  That doesn't stop the hurt. 

I have stepped up for this department every time it was asked of me.  My entire time here has been spent completing duties above-and-beyond my pay-grade.  Maybe that was the problem. I made myself into a doormat, and now my organization thinks I will lie here quietly and continue to let them walk all over me.  Or... maybe they don't care if I leave.

And there is the kicker. With the announcement I lost all self confidence. Maybe I am not capable of continuing the duties required for the promotion.  Maybe when I stepped into the role six months ago, I did a shitty job and no one told me.  Maybe I don't deserve the promotion.  Maybe I am not as important to the structure of this office as I thought.  Everyone is replaceable, right?

Things got dark for a while.  I am a worthless failure.  I am incapable of doing right.  Why bother trying, it won't accomplish anything.  My first instinct was to starve, starve, starve.  Which leads to binging and purging and more starving - because oh god, the emptiness feels so good and the binging comes with such glorious numbness.

Then I thought of Little Peanut, now the size of a turnip all cozy in my womb.  I thought of my husband, who tells me every day that I am beautiful (despite my protests that I am turning into a fat cow) and that he loves me.  I thought of the dream home which I now own, and live in, with my wonderful husband. I thought of my amazing and loving parents who live down the street.  Of the brother who has become a cornerstone of my life.  I thought of my two happy, incredible dogs who adore me above all else.  Everyone I love is in good health.  I have food in my fridge and enough money in my bank account to live comfortably if not extravagantly.  All things considered, my life is picture perfect. 

So here is where compartmentalizing comes into play.  Being passed over for a promotion sucks.  But it is not the end of the world.  My life is not ending.  Everything does not suck.  Everything is awesome.  So my career has stalled a bit.  No worries, I can recover from that.  Maybe not here, in this department, but elsewhere.  Meanwhile, I will put in my eight hours and then go home to snuggle on the couch with my silly poodlie-face and old scruffy-butt before going out to play in the snow.

If you need a little pick me up today, I recommend this video.  Because, as in most situations, Monty Python says it better than I ever could.