Mind Matters and Thievery

I stole this from another blog I read, which I'm not linking to because although anorexia and compulsive eating and probably one in the same, that blog doesn't need to see that wannabe former fatties are using their shit to get skinnier. And those people that read their blog don't need to be infected by my head games.

So here goes:

Categories of eating disorder recovery as presented by someone else's therapist and based on existing (somewhere) literature:

1. Those who quit/refuse treatment and are actively disordered to the point of debilitation.

2. Those who recovery completely, not to say 100%, but those who go weeks at a time without thinking of their eating disorder, go to the beach and don’t really think about their bodies, etc. The people that get here get here because they have a strong support network, and these are the people that do challenge themselves, the people that put on the bikini, that go to the dinner party, that open themselves up for these potential failures.

3. Those who are still somewhere between, either because they’re transitioning from one spot to the other (be it towards recovery, or towards something worse), or they’ve sort of settled in a ‘functional’ level of disordered where they can go day to day and do their jobs and interact with people but they’re still ‘disordered eaters,’ and still, to a large degree, consumed by thoughts of food and body.

Now, my thoughts on this...

When I read the post, I wondered which category I call into. Not 1. Probably more like a 3 and sometimes maybe (fingers crossed) a 2. I think I'm definitely in that functional level of disordered, largely consumed by thoughts of food and body.

I would like to be in that group 2...aware, on guard, not consumed (or consuming)...willing to take a risk without fear of failure or setback.

Another snippet of theft from the anonymous blog:

Those days when you feel really, really hopeless, remember that the feeling of ‘hopelessness’ isn’t a ‘predictor.’ It isn’t a place of intellectual realization. It’s not as if you just opened a rejection letter from the universe and you’re holding in your hand evidence that the universe is telling you to go screw. Turns out, whereas fat isn’t a feeling, hopelessness is a feeling, and only a feeling, It’s a feeling that ‘feels’ like an intellectual predictor that things will never ever get better, that things will get worse, that you deserve this, that it’s all shit, but hey, it’s a feeling, it’s a mood, it’s not an evidence-based conclusion.

Maybe I could get that as a tattoo on my stomach. Good shit, huh?