WHy can they eat that much?

Okay, that sounds really mean.  But seriously sometimes I watch people and ask that question.  It’s not derogatory.  It is a question.

Since I have been free of bulimia, I have learned how to eat anything in proportion.  I will eat chocolate.  One piece subsides my curiosity or feel like having… not craving, of which I have little of for chocolate.  I allowed myself chips any time I wanted to.  That is something I love to this day, but by allowing myself that, I can tell you I actually have not had a chip in over 4 months.  I just know I can have it so I don’t care to have it until I feel like it.

Last month I went on a “Sugar Free September Cancer Drive” and made it through with no problem.  Funny thing is people asked me if I lost weight doing that.  I did not lose a pound.  I still ate!! I just didn’t have sugar.  Now that I am allowed sugar, the first day was … wow I can have my Greek Yogurt Caramel Frozen Bar.  I had it and loved it.  Only sugar I missed.  Anything else I don’t.

My point is, that I learn from allowing, and sometimes when I disallow for a good reason, like a cancer donation drive, it makes it fun, and I know I can go back and it changes my world. I realize at the end I really don’t need it.

Bulimia changed my world too.  It made me realize that small portions of anything are okay.  You don’t have to indulge in a big meal to feel satisfied.  Food doesn’t have to be what fills you up in life.  Or in the case the bulimia, what fills you up with your emotions that you need to eat and purge later.

I understand the overeating, because I have been there.  But today I don’t undersant WHY they can eat that much.  Meaning, I’m interested in the relationship with food and person.  Why are they eating that much?  I know the easy question is they love food.  Then the next question would be “do they?” or is something missing, or WHY do they LOVE food …

Pondering the thoughts…

And I will say again… some people say that overcoming an eating disorder means you always have it. I disagree.  I can’t even begin to tell you how I can’t even imagine WHY I did it for so long.  WHY I did it at all? I know the answer, but I don’t know WHY I let it go on for so long… or maybe I don’t know WHY I even should have allowed myself to start?  Those questions really though don’t matter to me much anymore.  What does is, WHY would I eat more than what just satisfies me?  Why would I want to eat to discomfort?  Be it discomfort for the night, the day, or to want to purge it to feel better and waste all that wonderful food, that could have been enjoyed in smaller, kinder to your body size portions.

Kinder to your body size portions.  It takes time, but you really know when you’re full when you eat slowly and within 20 minutes, your stomach tells you you’ve had enough.  And is happy you enjoyed what you had to that point.  Then stop.

WHY have a second serving, knowing it will make your friend, your stomach, not comfortable? And in a bulimic stage, horrified that it will have to purge that food it so enjoyed?

If we were one with our tummy, its enjoyment of the food you provide to it, in smaller amounts, that would build the proper relationship.  Even smaller more frequent amounts.  Just think how happy the two of you would be together.  In so many ways!!

Why food?  The only answer to that is to disengage the emotions related to food in your subconscious mind.  To associate food with love for yourself, not externally.  Not to use food as a blanket, but as a friend to you and your stomach and to not overexert one of your best friends… your tummy, who takes in the food you eat and takes care of the first part of digestion.  Eat what you want but WHY eat too much?  When it is so much more romantic to eat… not too little, not too much.. but just enough.  (Love Goldie Locks and the Three Bears… the story is very telling… just right)

Hugs… Just a thought.

Stop Talking About Her!

Sister Cheating With Husband


16 years ago or so my sister had an affair with my husband.  True fact. My parents, as I would expect them to, forgave her. So did I but I choose not to be around that freak of nature that also destroyed, in my watch, three other marriages and has been constantly unfaithful to her husband. This my parents don’t know.

It behooves me how my mother is always telling me how wonderful she is. I don’t want to hear about her. I want to close that chapter of my book. She and my now ex-husband, destroyed two families and yet it appears to me my mother is completely either in denial or does this to hurt me.

How do you tell a mother to shut the funk up and that you don’t want to hear about the devil in Prada ??

My parents are in their 80’s. Dad just had a major stroke.  I can’t upset my mother by telling her how I feel, because likely she will tell dad and dad is just not in that zone.  He just wants to focus on getting better.

That Devil also took away the dog I loved that Dad said he would care for when I lost everything and didn’t have a place to keep him.  My Yeller.  Now her husband.. yes he stayed with her through this because he is madly in love with her… smiled and said he turned my dog into a needy one that won’t leave him alone.

Oh my… no wonder they are together.  But better yet, he tells me he sleeps with the dog without my sister.


I don’t know how to cut this tie.  If I refuse to show up to all the family events, my parents get upset.  But if I do show up I feel ill.  I don’t hate my sister.  That is too much of an emotion.  I just don’t want to be around someone who is toxic and has caused my children to bring up the pain of a marriage that died over a sister and father who had no desire to understand the final consequences of their actions.

I understand my parents still loving her.  She is their daughter.  But I don’t feel it is fair that I am expected to love her and hang around with her.  And I don’t think it’s fair that I can no longer be honest about my true feelings… that I so prefer to keep her away from me.  I want those who I trust and love and do same  back around me.  I spent years as a bulimic eating the mean ones up and throwing them up.  Bullies, mean people, controlling people.

Proud to say that I am not doing that… but yet… there are other things that may bring me to wonder… why… I do what I do.

Hiding out in a Jeep

Interesting night tonight.  I smiled as I walked my dogs and saw a man park his Jeep by the park I live by and walk my dogs in.  He got out of the Jeep with a drink and a smoke.  I wondered what he was hiding from or getting away from.  He wasn’t there long.  Just enough for his drink and his cigarette and then drove away.  He had his moment in a gazebo in the park overlooking the pond.  I so wish I had a camera to capture that picture.  I had to smile knowing I don’t have to drive away and find a place to take the 7 minutes of a cigarette to hide.  I live alone.  If I want that 7 minutes with my cigarette I don’t have to drive away to do it.  If I want to go to that gazebo I can just can walk to it.  And I have no one to flee from.  I am alone, but not lonely.  I love my life.


Dad told me last night that my niece was in the hospital because she urinated blood.  It’s incredibly disturbing.  But I remember being bulimic and going to the doctor and him telling me I had traces of blood in my urine from lack of nutrition.  I’m am confused now at my age sometimes why young ladies do things to themselves to make this happen, yet cannot judge… but confused about why I didn’t appreciate my youth and did it to myself, I thought, after hearing this story of my niece.

Interesting night tonight.  I wanted to go speak to the young man and ask why he was there.  But I didn’t.  I just watched and hoped he would figure things out like I did, but sooner than later.  And hope same for my niece.

Tonight I observed… and then my mind raced.

Becoming Who I am

Never have I seen a post so beautiful as this.  I could not ever say this more beautifully.  I have gone through life wondering how to explain what I feel.  This is it.  This is what it has been becoming who I am.  Becoming me.


I love friends

It’s been a strange world lately.  Like the stars are misaligned.   Still okay though.  I don’t run to the cupboard or the fridge for solace on this time of frustration and I don’t knows.  New bosses, new colleagues, major firings and not knowing if you are the next on that revolving door list.  My solace is with my dogs, but they must be feeling my stress when it kicks in, because for the first time in two months when I first moved into my new place, baby has been messing daily.  She never did before.  And my car is blowing out gas like there is no tomorrow… so kind of like me.. lol.  Stress bloats and gas.

I miss my blogging.  I have been so busy trying to save my job that I forgot that this place is .. yes.. solace.  Always brought me piece even when I was in the most stressful moments of my life.

I really wish I could share more about my disarray, but if I linked it to any site I would be found out.  I tend not to like that.  I like my followers to find me, but not the people I don’t want to have follow me.  Does this make sense?

Conundrum, frustration, uneasiness in my stomach, but through this, I reached out.. not with food!! But with phone calls to my new front end people.  I have friend who equally wants to share her stories.  They are more about women getting out of the trenches.  She doesn’t like the front line idea.  I do.  I fight front line everyday.  She said that is negative and that we can come to just working smart not fighting.  I agree to disagree.  My lifestyle as a recovered bulimic is one where I have to be at the front line but with a white flag.  Surrender, but do it with pride and dignity.  Front line, I deal with customers.  They are always right so to speak.  When not, and in my head, I just wave the flag and discuss the issue.  I am front line.  I am customer service.  I will love my customers, and even those who cause my blood pressure to rise because they have to involve upper management.  I am a survivor. And in fairness… so many of my customers to me are gold for those 2% that may not be.  It is why I wake up to see them every day.  In this revolving door, I don’t want the exit.

I know what it feels like to fight defeat.  I AM A RECOVERED BULIMIC.  WE KNOW THE FIGHT.  MORE SO THAN ANY NORMAL PERSON.

Amazing, and God sent lesson.

Recover and you will know what true recovery feels like.  Beautiful.  And it’s never too early (better plan)  but better yet to know… never too late!!


Who would have known that Joan Rivers’ health would bring people here?

When I wrote about Joan Rivers’ eating disorder I would never have thought that this would bring us here… you reading my blogs, nor would it make me a bit worried about my own history with bulimia and issues with not breathing, but I could certainly understand.  Bulimia can bring across some frightening after effects.  One night I woke up, and I believed I blogged about this earlier, and I could not breathe.  I was choking on acid that had come up through my esophagus. For I don’t know how long I couldn’t get the air moving.  I finally did and I was so mortified, so to speak, that I ran next door to my neighbour.  He is my best friend, but his girlfriend was over and she yelled at me to leave.  I live alone and didn’t know where else to go, my parents being out of town for the summer.  This may just be a lesson to all those of you out there with eating disorders.  If in the early stages stop now.  You don’t want to end up with these nightmares.  Your eating disorder will not just mess up your social life in your youth, but your health in your latter years.  Not worth it.  Never mind that… really not WORTH it.  The costs are monetary as well.

  • Let go, learn, live, love…. life is too short for anything more than that. 😉

My Cricket Thing Is Big

Why would a cricket sound mean so much to someone, you may ask?  My answer.  Deafness.  I woke up one morning and wondered why I couldn’t hear the crickets yet the sun was shining and it was summer and they usually made a lot of sound where I lived. I lay there wondering why the silence and no crickets.  Then I spun around to my other side and heard them.  It was then I found out at 38 years of age that I had a hearing impairment.  I couldn’t hear from my right ear.

Tonight there was cricket at my door.  Night time even!! He was loud.  I plugged my left ear and could still hear him or her in my right somewhat deafened ear.  That was how loud he/she was.  I loved the sound.  Turned off the television to listen.  Most people hate the sound of crickets.  It drives them nuts.  Me… it’s a remembory of when I could hear, when indeed I do hear them.  And tonight I thought… maybe… just maybe.. my hearing isn’t as bad any more.  Having given up bulimia, maybe, just may my jaw crackling, jaw numbing from constant chewing may be relieving the tension from my jaw to my muscles around my ears to have me hear a bit better again?  Just a thought… 🙂  Moving into my third world of quarter century… maybe this one, which may be my last, may be the most beautiful…. if nothing else… I can hear crickets again.  And the whistling in my ears (Tinnitus or something???) is quieting as well.  Here is to healing.. 🙂  And maybe a little cricket who is there to make sure you keep your conscience clear as well? 🙂