Don’t you ever feel like you’re nothing – You are perfect – Pink!!

Why do I do that?  It’s a question we always ask ourselves in this world.  But we have to know we are less than perfect, but we are perfect in our inperfections!!

Anorexia, Bullimia, Bullimarexic – What is the difference? I’ll tell you

Beauty or a beast?  This is the worst of it.  This is the biggest killer of eating disorder.  This lady probably… no… most likely… no… does… think she is too fat.  This picture IS Anorexia.  I was bulimic.  To see someone that emaciated was painful.  I could feel their pain.  But comes the weird thing about having an eating disorder.  You could anorexic, bulimic, or a bulimarexic (do both – smaller than a bulimic, larger than an anorexic), but even seeing overweight people makes you want to cry because you know.  You know there’s something inside that’s not working right.  Like alcoholics, or like drug addicts, whatever the coping mechanism.  I can’t advocate for any of this.  I do however ask why this has become so rampid.  Why are there so many lost souls?  I’m not sure.  Why do so many of us look to the coping mechanism.  Some less threatening than others.

I had a friend with anorexia.  If you saw her face at the time, you would swear she was a walking skeleton.  Then they put her into the hospital.  30% chance of survival.  They plugged her with an IV and when she walked out she was 170 lbs.  They managed to save her, but they didn’t save her from her coping mechanism.  Later she joined my club of bulimics.  Haven’t seen her in a long time, but if you did you wouldn’t even know she was or maybe even still is bulimic.  We’re not as transparent and we like it that way.

Karen, Nancy, and all my other friends that suffered through this – and that I don’t see anymore, I hope you have found solace like I have.  But it was a journey!

So bulimia is – eat your emotions and throw up.  Anorexia is a slow form of suicide and wanting to disappear by being small and unnoticed.  Bulimarexic is in between.

best mother’s day day ever!! on Twitpic

best mother’s day day ever!! on Twitpic.

Divorcing myself

I can’t come up with a better way of describing the feelings I’ve been having.  Last time I cried this much I was going through a divorce, and second time a break up.  It’s the gut wrenching feeling of losing something you loved.  I loved being able to hide in my bulimia.  I watched a lot of comedies on my own.  It made me laugh, not cry.  I didn’t feel as if I was without.  I felt okay.  I felt in all that internalization that all was okay.  No one missed me, and no one cared, and it was comforting.

It’s so bizarre to let her go.  My bulimia.  It’s weird because as much as I hated her around me, she was always there.  She never judged, never bothered me.  Physically possibly hurt me, but not in any other way.  I’m missing sometimes the me that was her.  The one that learned not to care, or ate what she did.  The one that held that wall so strongly in front of her.  The one that my psychiatrist said was a China doll.  Cold on the outside, but so fragile.  True that.  But here on this “earth” we’re not allowed to be fragile, to feel, to love too much, to care too much.  Those who do hurt too much.  Since she’s been gone all that has surfaced.  I can’t hide anymore and I’m scaring people because now they see the true me.  The one that is vulnerable, the one that has always been.  They say “you’re strong”, but they see in my eyes now that I’m not.  I’m not saying that I won’t make it.  That I won’t stop this pain.  It will go away, but like some volcano it’s blown out of proportion.  Maybe if I run fast enough the lava won’t reach me and I’ll survive.  But sometimes running isn’t worth a damn.  And again the question is where do you run to?

best mother’s day day ever!! on Twitpic

best mother’s day day ever!! on Twitpic.

So true about dogs

A dog has no use for fancy cars or big homes or designer clothes, a water logged stick will do just fine.  A dog doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he’ll give you his.  How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare, and pure and special?  How many people can make you feel extraordinary?  (Marly and me)

Funny enough, dog spelled backwards would provide all the answers to the questions.

People I would like to show up to my funeral if I died tomorrow

Okay, this seemingly sounds morbid, but did you ever think of that title?  I really didn’t much until lately.  This questions comes much in the same context as “who do I give a darn (nice way of saying damn) liked me?”  And why that question again?  I have a friend who seems overly worried about who likes me and who doesn’t.  This is strange.  I am a recovered “everyone needs to love me” person, where I realized no one will and those who are walk in the door when everyone else walks out are the ones worth being around.  So.  My People list – then following is my bucket list.  This is more important at this time because these are some of the people I’ll be hopefully completing my bucket list with.

My funeral list (and they all better be wearing COLOURFUL clothes – NOT black).

Brendon, Nikki, Lachlan, Janet, Maurice, Davina, Ellen (and Jonathan and Tyler and Robert and Amy of course!!), Kevin and his camera crew, Mom, Dad (as long as they aren’t nasty to Maurice), Keith, Steve, Brent, Sir Hugh, LeeAnn.  Think that’s it.

Now reasons why for each because I can’t put them in order of superiority, but I can explain why I want them there.

• Brendon, Nikki, Lachlan – well because I guess they have to.  They’re my children.  But I loved them until death did us part.
• Janet because she was always there for me and my favourite sister.  I just love her to death… oh… I’m dead in this case if she is there – so I guess that statement works.
• Maurice because he was my best friend for the past seven… or is it eight? years.  Always there for me.  I loved him in every way from best friend, best lover, best fighter :), and like my sister, a big heart.
• Davina, because she’ll bring energy to my funeral – hopefully make people laugh!!  And she’ll dress me up until my cremation.  She’ll even share with Nikki in doing my makeup!!  Oh ya… forgot… with her comes Ellen and Ross, all my favourites in the niece and nephew department.
• Ellen, Jonathan, Tyler and Robert, and OF COURSE Amy, well that all goes without having to say anything.  Ellen, make sure I have something sexy on before I leave this “earth”… lol  Really love that Ross found you and you and Jonathan found each other, and that three beautiful children were born.
• Kevin and his camera crew to make sure people laugh and there’s a video to make me immortal… lol… OH YA I’ll be dead.  Immortal in a sense.  I really enjoyed working with you.  You were funny.  Laughter IS the best medicine.
• Mom and Dad?  Hate it if you have be there.  Kind of always wanted to die all together so there is no pain.  We could all go party with Nana and Ross in one shot deal.  But having said that, if you are reading this and I went first, I can’t thank you enough for the beautiful life you’ve given me.  Seriously.  I know I’ve had my ups and my downs, but somewhere in that little connection of gene pool that you had with me, I was an adventurist.  I don’t regret it.  I thank you for everything.  I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I love you.  And always will.
• NOTE: This too last stated above, in a different way to all mentioned here!.
• Keith because I loved him my whole life.  He was a tremendous father to our children.  Never stopped loving him.  Not the same as how much I loved Maurice in the end because Keith, we were never best friends, but always loved you and held you in high regards for what you accomplished.
• Steve because he is my sister’s foundation.
• Brent because he was my foundation for 30 years+ in inspiration, and also he’s Hampy’s dad, so to speak, although I think he should be his older brother.  Brent, “my professor”, never grows old.  Hampty Grampty.
• Sir Hugh.  Funny enough Brent and Sir Hugh have similarities.  Both different, in a way can’t describe, other than beautiful people.  Some call them eccentric, I call them beautiful.
• LeeAnn because she made my ex happy and cared for my children even when they nasty to her.  She had courage.  I thank her for that.

Anyone else that appears to my funeral is fine.  But really, in truth, as long as each of the above show up, I’ll be smiling from heaven.  They’re all I need.  Hugs to you kids!!!

Life as a recovered Bulimic (bull-imic) is weird – but embrace it

I can’t believe it took me this long to come back here to write.  Considering my thoughts lately.  But it’s all okay.  I learned something recently.  I learned that I can equate all that has gone on in my bull-imic world to other people on this earth.  My feelings were the same as theirs, but I dealt with them differently.  I ate and threw up my emotions, like I said before.  But what is interesting is when your friends start to go on and on, and they hurt you, you can stop them.  I just tell them I’m going to eat and throw up their problems.  Then they look at me in disbelief.  I really feel that I can take them on for them.  That’s what I tell them.  Having said that, I quit my bull-imia.  Bulimia.  I would do that for them though for those I love the most because it’s like taking a bullet.  You see, my closest people love me too much to let me do that and then it makes them think.  Is my problem so bad that I would let a friend “take a bullet for it?”.  When they stop long enough for having heard my words that I would do that for them?  They relax.  It’s great therapy.

I found a lump under my breast on Saturday.  You see the date.  That would be four days ago.  I don’t mind it much.  Worst part was having to set up a doctor’s appointment.  Thinking… WOW.  I have to tell him.  My old doctor can’t take me in so I’m going to a new one.  Ya… Hi doctor.  I was on and off a bull-imic for 30 years, and an alcoholic for about 10.  My liver is gone likely even if I’m not as bad with drinking my wine, my organs are probably shot…. and so how am I still alive?  By the grace of God I would imagine.  But now… today… I can tell my doctor that without worries.  And I can tell my friends that I would take that bull-imic (bulimic) bullet for them.  Makes them think.  Makes me think – glad I know I would if I had to … but it would take alot!  They stop and relax… I don’t have to.  It’s a gift.  I’ll keep it.