So The Ginger Has Something Important To Tell You
Starting this blog was no random idea. It was not some out-of-the-blue decision. I've enjoyed writing for a while and I tend to use it as a way to vent. To express my feelings and to just let things out. Oftentimes when life gets overwhelming, writing can help me sort things out and understand myself better. Having to actually sort through my thoughts and make sense of them and put them on paper in an articulate manner can be enlightening and therapeutic. But it's also nice to know that people are listening. And while I have a handful of close friends that I know are always willing to listen and offer their support, I don't share everything with them.
This blog was started as an idea to help me relieve stress and keep my mind busy and focused on better things as I begin recovery for my eating disorder.
And although I am aware that a handful of you reading this do know who I, the ginger author, am, many still do not. Add to that the fact that I am living quite a distance from my family and they are unaware of my current situation; hence the general anonymity of the blog.
My recovery began about three and a half months ago. I knew for several months previous that there was an issue. I recognized in myself, but denied that it was problematic. A few of my co-workers and one incredibly compassionate manager were the beginning. After a serious drop in work performance, my manager approached me and told me that she recognized what was going on, and told me that I needed to take a break from work to focus on getting better and I could return when I had made progress on that course.
And after some extreme prodding by my aunt and best friend, I set up an appointment with someone who specializes in eating disorders. And I went. Then I set up another three appointments. And I canceled all of them.
Six weeks went by after that first appointment. My work ended up being desperate enough to call me in on a Saturday afternoon and without much mention, I kind of just slipped back in without really following through on my assignment to seek help. I learned little ways that I could keep my performance at peak without actually seeking help or getting better. All the while just sinking into a hole of physical and mental agony. I didn't want to tell anyone or talk about it too much because as far as they were concerned, I was getting back on track.
And then my mental and physical health plummeted. I mean, over a mere 2 days, I fell so far down the hole. I could not imagine my life continuing the way it was. Exhausted, sore, tired, agitated and angry, unable to focus or stay motivated, some days where standing upright was even a struggle.
Let me just say right now- I did not want to "get better". And honestly, most days I still don't. But anything has got to be better than living with the wrath of an eating disorder. Living a life that's nothing but numbers. Calories in food, calories eaten, calories worked off, how many jumping jacks or squats, counting steps, counting glasses of water, counting, counting, and counting. I'm tired of counting. I'm tired of numbers. I'm tired of all the illogical rules.
So I set up another appointment. On my own this time. Because I knew this needed to be my choice, not forced on me by my boss or my aunt or whomever. I still did not want to go, but I asked a friend for some help and counsel, and then I went. I might have spent the three hours leading up to that appointment texting that friend while in a ball of dry-heaving panic, but I went.
And in there I was told that for a while now my ED has absorbed most of my life. My thoughts were all focused on what I could and could not consume, my excessive over-exercising, planning how to get out of activities or meals. Almost every second of my day, consumed by this. So yes, the goal is to get rid of it. Get better. But when I get rid of it, there's going to be a lot of space and time that needs filled. A lot of room where ED once lived that I am going to need to fill with something else-something better, ideally.
So I made a list after my appointment. Art was a fairly obvious one. Painting and sketching. Making cards and wall art and whatnot. It's something I enjoy and feel I truly excel at. Reading new books. Finding a couple of good new shows on Netflix. Those are all good, but aside from art, they are more of a distraction than anything else. I need a focus. I place to express myself. To concentrate on being 100% me. And a blog seemed like a marvelous option.
So that would be how I ended up here.
But don't worry, I'm not going to make this all about my ED. That's not my purpose. My purpose is to write. To focus on something better, and to fill the space that I am striving to create.
And so I do hope you'll keep reading.
And although I am aware that a handful of you reading this do know who I, the ginger author, am, many still do not. Add to that the fact that I am living quite a distance from my family and they are unaware of my current situation; hence the general anonymity of the blog.
My recovery began about three and a half months ago. I knew for several months previous that there was an issue. I recognized in myself, but denied that it was problematic. A few of my co-workers and one incredibly compassionate manager were the beginning. After a serious drop in work performance, my manager approached me and told me that she recognized what was going on, and told me that I needed to take a break from work to focus on getting better and I could return when I had made progress on that course.
And after some extreme prodding by my aunt and best friend, I set up an appointment with someone who specializes in eating disorders. And I went. Then I set up another three appointments. And I canceled all of them.
Six weeks went by after that first appointment. My work ended up being desperate enough to call me in on a Saturday afternoon and without much mention, I kind of just slipped back in without really following through on my assignment to seek help. I learned little ways that I could keep my performance at peak without actually seeking help or getting better. All the while just sinking into a hole of physical and mental agony. I didn't want to tell anyone or talk about it too much because as far as they were concerned, I was getting back on track.
And then my mental and physical health plummeted. I mean, over a mere 2 days, I fell so far down the hole. I could not imagine my life continuing the way it was. Exhausted, sore, tired, agitated and angry, unable to focus or stay motivated, some days where standing upright was even a struggle.
Let me just say right now- I did not want to "get better". And honestly, most days I still don't. But anything has got to be better than living with the wrath of an eating disorder. Living a life that's nothing but numbers. Calories in food, calories eaten, calories worked off, how many jumping jacks or squats, counting steps, counting glasses of water, counting, counting, and counting. I'm tired of counting. I'm tired of numbers. I'm tired of all the illogical rules.
So I set up another appointment. On my own this time. Because I knew this needed to be my choice, not forced on me by my boss or my aunt or whomever. I still did not want to go, but I asked a friend for some help and counsel, and then I went. I might have spent the three hours leading up to that appointment texting that friend while in a ball of dry-heaving panic, but I went.
And in there I was told that for a while now my ED has absorbed most of my life. My thoughts were all focused on what I could and could not consume, my excessive over-exercising, planning how to get out of activities or meals. Almost every second of my day, consumed by this. So yes, the goal is to get rid of it. Get better. But when I get rid of it, there's going to be a lot of space and time that needs filled. A lot of room where ED once lived that I am going to need to fill with something else-something better, ideally.
So I made a list after my appointment. Art was a fairly obvious one. Painting and sketching. Making cards and wall art and whatnot. It's something I enjoy and feel I truly excel at. Reading new books. Finding a couple of good new shows on Netflix. Those are all good, but aside from art, they are more of a distraction than anything else. I need a focus. I place to express myself. To concentrate on being 100% me. And a blog seemed like a marvelous option.
So that would be how I ended up here.
But don't worry, I'm not going to make this all about my ED. That's not my purpose. My purpose is to write. To focus on something better, and to fill the space that I am striving to create.
And so I do hope you'll keep reading.
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