Monday, November 12, 2007

Eggs in my bra

There are eggs in my bra.
No really.
It's late and I came straight to my office, which is near the chicken coop and didn't stop at home to pick up an egg carton or anything. The best place to keep eggs from getting crushed at the moment is my bra.
So, indeed, there are eggs in my bra.
I had to hurry down here because when I pulled in the driveway there was a large fox headed toward the coop. When he saw me, he ran, but it's only a matter of time before he finds the coop. I'm hoping our security guard finds him first.
Actually, I should clarify. I'm hoping our human security guard finds him first. The kind that comes armed with a shot gun. Now don't go gettin' all animal rights on me. The fox isn't native here. He costs me money. If he stays out of my way, I'll stay out of his. But the security guard? Well, he gets paid to shoot first and ask questions later. I don't really want a fox in my yard. I don't even really like the coyotes in my back yard. And, truly, I hate the fact the wolves are dangerously close to my back yard. I am the top of the food chain. I win. 'Nuff of that soap box.
Anyway, we have another security guard. He's not armed,but he has a temper.
Taloose is a goose.
I had always heard that geese were good watch dogs and after losing my entire flock of chickens last year I decided I'd see for myself. So far, it's paid off. I lost some chickens early on, but once Taloose got big enough to be a threat, haven't lost a one.
Ok, I lost one hen who refused to come in the coop at night. Thought herself tough enough to roost in the bushes outside. Her name was Breakfast. One morning, all I found of her were two tail feathers.
Each morning Taloose goes on patrol. I let him out of the coop and he squawks and makes a ton of noise. Then he loops around the house and ends up at the wading pool I have for him. He checks out the pool and then flies for about 20 feet and then comes back to the pool for his morning bath.
He doesn't bother me, but I've been told that if a stranger goes into the yard he hisses and makes a lot of noise.
I wasn't sure until this weekend if he was actually a he. I had originally purchased two geese, but one was killed last spring. I never have bothered to find my bird book to see if I could tell if I had the male or female. Then, last Saturday morning, I was watching the chickens. (They're kind of fun to watch) and the goose was happily bathing in the pool with the duck. The duck is a cute liitle female mallard named Wallace. (Gromit , the other duck, died of mysterious causes last suumer)
The duck was just minding her own business when all of the sudden Taloose hopped right on top of her, bit the back of her head and mounted her. All the while, holding her head under water. Now I really did try to let nature take its course here, but the poor duck looked like she might drown. So finally, I yelled, "Taloose! knock that off.
I had actually thought he might be a she and that I had lesbian foul, but do you know what that damn bird did?
He hopped off of her, let out this cocky cackle and spread his wings -- ( I swear it looked like he was flexing his biceps) and then turned around and shook his tail at me. Sure enough his very male part was right there just a flappin' in the wind.
Men. They're all the same sometimes.
Poor Wallace just looked bewildered by the whole thing.
The worst part was the rooster, named Chuck, seemed to be inspired so he hopped on a hen.
I have two other roosters, Roast and Beef, but they didn't seem to inclined to join in this little poultry sex fest. For a while there I thought the whole place had gone orgy or something.
I decided at that point, after seeing goose's dong, that it was time to go back to the house and do laundry.
Just too much excitement for this girl.
And that my friends, is life on this farm.

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Am I scarey?

I think people don't take me seriously.
I think people don't listen to me when I talk about eating disorders and living in joy or eating right because I'm fat.
This makes me crazy.
First of all, it makes it all too easy to fall under the tryanny of the scale again. I want to lose weight faster so I can talk to people that need to hear the message and they'll actually listen to me.
On a regular basis, I talk to people about my Declaration of Independence or about eating intuitively and I know they look at me and say to themselves, "Whatever, Karma. What do you know? You're fat." I can feel it when they think that. One person even admitted it when asked.
I'm not sure what to do about it. I am who I am and right now I look like what I look like. My body will change -- someday. When it's time. When it's right.
The thing is, the weirdest looks come from the girls who are actually thin, but think they're fat. One girl told me she wasn't ready to sign my Declaration -- "maybe in a few months". you know what that means don't you. she wasn't going to sign it until she lost weight.
I felt sorry for her. She's this great woman. Bright, intelligent, fun. But she looks in the mirror and hates what she sees.
Here's the distored thing about that way of thinking. You're trying to look like someone else. But do you really know who you're admiring? You could be looking up to someone who has been sick, someone has cancer or someone with untreated eating disorder. Do you really want to wish that upon yourself?
Seems odd to me now, but I know I've done it. I know I've looked at people and made the judgement about who they were and what they believe based solely on their pants size. How many fabulous people did I miss out on in my ignorance?
In other news, I've decided to learn to ski. You can actually read a bit more of decision on my other page at So here's the deal: I've always wanted to ski, but at first it was too expensive and then I decided I was too fat. Have you ever seen a fat girl on the ski slope? Nope.
I had promised myself I would take at least one lesson this winter. My kids have been learning and who wants to sit back and watch your kids do something when you could be doing it with them?
As usual my mouth get me in over my head. I suggested to a magazine editor that I learn to ski and write about it. So now, not only am I learning to ski, I'm going to share the experience with all of South Central Idaho.
I'm and idiot.
Ok. Not really.
I am doing this for all the women who sit in the lodge or just drive by the ski hill because they're afraid. I'm doing this for all the women who do want they want while enduring the insults of salespeople and trainers who assume they can't. I'm doing this because I can, damn it.
I'm terrified, but here I go.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Major revelation

So it's a funny thing what a little sugar can do.
My husband has been diagnosed with diabetes -- a pain in the ass, but I really see it as a blessing in disguise. It will require us all to eat better and we'll be able to have family meals. Maybe he'll even stop with those stupid diabetic rages.
We've been meeting with nutritionists and go over meal plans -- trying to get a grip of how our bodies digest food etc. When I moved in with Clem 12 years ago, he had recently completed a Nutrisystem Diet plan. Under that system, he stopped eating supper, ate a big lunch and might have a snack in the evening that's all. I remember thinking that didn't make a ton of sense to me -- the light supper in the evening made more sense to me. But, in my effort to please and fit in -- and in his constant reminders that I wanted to lose weight and that was the way to do it as far as he was concerned.
So I stuffed my instincts and ate according to his schedule. I've done nothing but gain weight since.
WOW -- again, I have to ask why it made sense to me to give up what I believed... but really that's what I've always done -- I'm just altered my needs to fit in with whomever I was living with -- whatever I thought people wanted.
So my blood sugar isn't what it should be -- but it could use lowering. I'm a little afraid because food is such an emotional and control issue for me and this seems a bit overwhelming. But it may just be a return to center for me -- to a time and a place when I followed my heart.
I think it will be nice to be home.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Just give me a day

Argh!!!!! Do you know what I would do for a day, just one day, when I don't regret a decision I make regarding what I make. I'm sooooo close to whipping this damn thing -- so very close and then it's like Ed and Vicki do a dance in my head and I get dizzy with the music or whatever and forget what I'm doing. It's making me nuts -- friggin' crazy!
Take today -- a day when I did really well all day -- until supper time -- when instead of having soup which is what I wanted -- ED took over my body and my mouth and I had greasy, nasty junk food -- that didn't even really taste that great -- and it was 8 o'clock and night and it's not sitting in my gut dancing a flippin jig with Ed and his pals -- and I can't sleep.
How is that honoring your body, I ask you? Within a matter of moments, I went from being in control to completely out of control.
I know Ed is getting weaker by the moment -- I know that with each step I take toward my Sawtooth (or wherever) journey he dies a slow and painful death -- but damn -- I just want to go one day without having to think about food and eating -- I just want iit to be instinctive -- and yes, I know it took me years to get this way and it's going to take a while to heal ---but I didn't get to this point without a deep appreciation for instant gratification....I want it now -- damn it.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Seeeking the Sawtooths

I have spent the better part of three years healing my insides. I'm ready to tackle the outside recovery -- at least in one part of my head, I am.
I don't know if it's Vicki -- or some other voice -- or just my own internal fear -- but there is also a part of me that's scared. Scared to the point of complacency.
I had my surgery June 6 -- in hopes I'll be able to breathe better and therefore not get so tired and then in turn have more energy to exercise the way I crave. But it's taking so long to heal -- and just when I think I can take on the world, I get too tired and have to stop. I would like to just give up on my goals -- and just survive - continue as things are and see what happens around a different bend -- at a different time... but I know I have to make this trip or I'll continue to put off the rest of my healing ... well, forever.
Somewhere in the Sawtooths, I'm convinced I'll find myself again. I haven't exactly figured out where -- but I know it's there. In the north. Hidden among the granite crags and timber. As if the truest part of me went there to hide while I lost control of so much in my life.
So I have to find her again -- I have to reclaim Karma.
Here on the high desert plateau though, I'll have to gather reinforcements -- I'll have to train and prepare and be ready to find her. That's the hard part. It will mean putting myself and my needs first -- it will mean saying no. It will mean standing up for what's important to me.
And I don't know if i can do that.
Well that's not really true. I know I can do it -- I'm simply terrified to leave the comfort of the lowlands.
I know ya'll will be there with me. Each step, each moment. But what if something changes? What if I'm not comfortable being myself anymore. What if people expect more of me than I can give anymore? What if I fail?
I'm not sure why I picked the Sawtooths -- maybe it's where I spent so many wonderful days as a child. Maybe it's where I'm called. All I do know is that it has to be there.
So here I go -- with a goal of hiking in the Sawtooths probably near Redfish Lake the weekend of August 25.
I can't remember I focused on something for myself before -- at least no for a long term.
I just have to remember that I am worth the journey.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

The ugly truth

The ugly truth is: there are no short cuts when it comes to nourishing your body. I want there to be. I want quick things that both fuels my body and taste good. However, sometimes, unless your happen to be, you know, organized, that kind of stuff isn't around. Now that I'm learning how to eat naturally again, my old habits are not doing me much good. Grabbing what's quick and easy is not usually, in my world anyway, what's going to fuel my system well for the day.
This morning is a perfect example. I woke up craving something sweet. So of course I grab two of the cookies on the counter and them gone in a flash. Then I figured I better eat something healthy so I ate a banana. Then I got hungry again so I had some left over steak. Then I went outside to work in the yard. I had no energy. Wore out easily. Had to rest. Fatigue. Damn.
Now I have to rest a bit this afternoon as I need to pick up Clem at the airport at 11 :30 tonight and go up to the cabin. Makes for a long day. So I'm trying to get some rest and better fuel into the system so I can finish in the yard and head west.
It's been really interesting learning to eat to again. You celebrate the most bizarre things -- like bringing home a doggie bag -- and having that food last more than a few hours. Realizing you don't like something and not feeling bad about getting rid of it.
I'm still working on rewards -- as I tend to want to reward myself with food. But when I can remember some warm tea is pretty cool for that. It's hard to just be comfortable, because physically, I'm not. But I know I will be, soon.
For now though, it's a quick nap before I head out to wipe out that stupid shrubbery in the front yard.

Monday, April 30, 2007

Family Day Off

We played hookie today. For some reason I couldn't sleep last night and neither could the kids. Kate got up at 3 and CJ at 3:30 and Patti couldn't hardly get out of bed. So we took a mental health day. We slept in. The kids cleaned out their book shelf. I slept some more. We found some great worksheets on line and some in our "Everything you need to know..." books and had lunch and then read under the trees in the backyard. Kate and I cat napped under the trees with the wind blowing through our hair and over our faces. I did a little bit of work and cooked a little and did a few loads of laundry and I have to tell you it was wonderful!! But then, he came home. The kids wanted to see him and missed him, but somehow the energy changes when he comes in. It always seems like we're both disappointed. I think he is disappointed that I don't have my hair done and my makeup on. I tried to ask him about his trip, but he always just sits there looking at me -- each and every time he comes home from a trip -- as if he's waiting for me to do or say something more. I had been balancing the checkbook when he came in so of course he noticed a bill from my computer guy for the wireless network on the table and got all cranky about it. There are so many good things about him ... about us. And then, there is all that is wrong. I find myself asking the Good Lord for guidance -- for some sign that I'm here for all the right reasons. The scary thing is, I have the most difficult time controlling my eating habits when he's home. Not that long ago, I realized I don't eat dsyfunctionally when I'm away from home -- from him. Tonight was no different. I cooked a big supper and didn't mean to take a huge portion, but I found myself eating too much -- as if somehow the extra mashed potatoes and gravy might somehow, magically, make everything feel better ... make sense. So I took the kids out for a walk down to the river bed after supper. I think I needed the evening air to clear out my head -- and after eating too much that late, I didn't want to sit. I have realized that I eat and then sit far too often. I eat breakfast, then sit for 45 minutes or more while I make the commute to Twin Falls. I eat lunch and then I sit at a desk. I eat dinner and then sit after supper. That doesn't seem like it's the best thing for my body, so I'm trying not to do that. It's fun to walk along the river and see what critters have left their prints in the mud. Mostly raccoons and deer -- occasionally I see a fox print or something. The kids decided to play in the gravel pits. I continued around the bend to add some more steps to the day, but the kids basically took a dirt bath. I sent them home to get in the shower -- only to walk in on three kids and three inches of dirt in the tub. How could I be mad though? Dirt is good for the soul, as far as I think. I'd rather have 3 inches of dirt in my tub, than three children sitting in front of the computer or television for three hours. I'm finding it hard to keep my eyes open -- so will head for the comfort of my bed. God willing, I'll get to sleep tonight and not have two of the three children stacked on top of me.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Gallery of Rocks

Another perfect day in the big city.
The kids and I slept in with no pressure to be anywhere today. I burned the breakfast sausage, but we had made yummy blue/black berry muffins yesterday -- so it kind of balanced out.
Did a ton of laundry -- still have too much left to do -- but finally got some uniforms back on the hanger so the kids can go to school.
CJ and I sat on the deck and read the paper -- what a perfect Sunday morning! Slight breeze -- warmth ... the birds were out. I wish I knew more about bird calls. One bird makes this beautiful song -- one I heard repeatedly growing up on my dad's farm. When I hear it now, it instantly takes me back to hanging around outside the shop -- with nothing but dirt and my imagination to play with. That same breeze, the same bird -- and the freedom of childhood.
What with all the hard work, I was forced to take my Sunday afternoon nap -- the kids interrupted me twice -- not too bad considering...
Anyway -- this afternoon we took a short drive and then a short hike in the Little City of Rocks. The area forms the western edge of the Bennett Mountains. The place doesn't remind me of a city though -- more like an amphitheater in which hikers are the show for a stone audience.(I'll load some pictures tomorrow) Then off to dinner at the local diner.
It's always fun to swing by at catch up with the town gossip.
I find myself so very conscientious of my appearance -- even though I try so very hard not to. I really want my outside to match my inside now. I know it's a process. I know it will take more than a week. I want it to be instant! I am still struggling with knowing when to eat and how much. I can't decide sometimes, if I'm really hungry or if I'm listening to a voice outside my own -- or if I'm falling into some old habit.
I find that food still takes up so much of my thoughts -- and long for the day when it doesn't. I wonder if alcoholics go through the same process. Do you ever get to the point when you can sit down and not question whether or not you're making the right choices?
The goal for this week is is 6000 steps per day and drinking more water. I think that's pretty doable.
The other thing I'm trying to figure out is managing my myriad of projects without overwhelming myself. Something I've never been able to manage-- at least not for a long time. But each brings me a little closer to the real me -- and it will be so nice to see me again.
Oh! Forgot to tell you-- I have two chapters done of my book. It started out as a biography, but I switched it to a "based on a true story". The fictional me is easier to write. I keep thinking a true story would be too painful for my family, but my intent has always been to write a self help book. But I decided it was better to start in a way that took the pressure off -- we'll see how it turns out....

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Just like riding a bike

So my step counter says I'm at 15,700 steps today. I'm tired and sweaty -- but man it feels good. My goal for this week was to do at least 5000 steps a day. I did it Monday through Wednesday -- but the numbers hardly budged Thursday and Friday. It was a beautiful day today and I got up a bit early so I could take my little "walk around the block" --3300 steps.
Of course, in my neighborhood, that means I walked down the lane to the river then through the river bed to the edge of the corn field. I followed a deer trail through the weeds to the fence line, then back around to the house.
Then off to the 4h meeting at the fairgrounds to plant flowers for our community service project. Then I hung around for a the county surplus auction. I bought an antique love seat that used to be in the Dietrich Hotel. I bought some old school desks -- the kind with the storage under the seat. I bought an old piano bench too. Saw lots of friends and had a lovely afternoon.
I collapsed a bit when I got home, but fixed a nice dinner for the kids and then went over to the dairy and dug my bike out of the garage in my old house.
The kids had been on me for a while to get it out. The last time I rode it -- gosh, I'm not sure I can remember. The baby seat was still on it and I think Kate was the last baby in it -- and she turns nine this summer.
Anyway I pumped up the tires and made my way down the lane. Just to the river and back. Thought I might pass out. I don't remember bike seats hurting like they do now. I used to ride a bike quite a bit, but that was three kids, 7 or 8 years and 70 pounds ago. I figured with the extra time I have, now that I'm won't be in counseling all the time (!) I can do some new things.
That old saying was right, you don't forget how to ride a bike. I figure if I can take it down to the river and back at least once each night, it's a good thing. Maybe by the end of the summer, the kids and I can haul the bikes into one of the biking trails in the area.
It was a glorious Saturday -- and a great start to the rest of the summer.

Monday, April 23, 2007


I'm sitting here in shock. It's a combination of awe and surprise and pride and .... wow. After something like three years and buckets of tears and frustration and fear -- through heartbreak and trial and tribulation ... thanks to the love and support and constant ear of dozens of kind and patient friends my counselor told me something I never thought I'd hear: "You're done."
The eating disorder, though it will never truly be forgotten, is done. Over.
I knew I was close. I figured she'd release me toward the end of May, maybe. But today, she released me to conquer the world using the tools I've learned, the internal strength I had buried and have recovered -- to just be me again without fear.
I can't wait. I'm a little scared but I'm pretty sure that's normal.
I keep walking around saying "wow"
I worked so hard and now I just have to live it and embrace the freedom it gives me.
I'm continually touched at the amazing people that have come in my life -- and have all loved and supported me without question or judgement.
My husband who at times who has cause me the most incredible grief I've ever felt, never once criticized my appearance and always said I was sexy -- because of who I am, not because of how I looked.
So off I go into my wild blue yonder.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

The final step

So I think it would be accurate to say I have about conquered the eating disorder. I would say at least 75 percent -- if not more. Now what comes next might be the most difficult.
I'm at the stage where I don't feel like I need the extra weight anymore. I no longer need the isolation and insulation it provides. On the inside I feel so strong. I'm so ready to just be me again. But then I look in the mirror and I get so frustrated. I want my appearance on the outside to match my confidence on the inside. But.
But it doesn't. Megan says that until I make it about me and not about size, it won't happen. That attitude is apparently the actual "magic pill" that we all look for in weight loss. So instead of getting up to exercise because I need to, I'll have to get to the place where I get up to exercise because it feels good.
The thing is, I'm almost there. I am craving exercise. I'm craving the food and activities that are instinctive -- not the product of the "should monster". But when it comes to action -- something is still holding me back. At surface level, I think it's just being overwhelmed with all the things I have go on. It's having no idea how to get all the things done I want to get done. It's the age old problem of womanhood and motherhood and putting everyone else's needs before mine.
But below the surface I think I'm still afraid to let go of that log in the river. (See the Dec. entries) I'm not sure why. I would guess it's because I don't want to deal with the uncertainty of it all. If I am comfortable with myself physically won't I be even more intimidating to others? Will my relationship with my husband change? Will I have the same friends? Will all the work be worthwhile?
I know intellectually it will be OK. My friends will still be friends. My family will still be my family. But I live in fear of the comments I'll get -- the rude comments about how I looked while fat. The dehumanizing comments about "how good I look" instead "how good it is to see me" -- I don't want to me overlooked anymore. I'd like at least a few of my relationships with my family in particular to be more than surface level -- but I remember all too clearly what my life was like last time I lost weight. I felt so overlooked. This time with more weight to lose it will be worse. I know it and I'm afraid I won't be able to handle it.
Also, I'm not sure how to turn my mind around. I'm not sure how to eliminate "should" from my vocabulary or mindset. I've been trying get up early lately because I want to walk. But I'm so tired, I usually just try to find some quiet time. I guess that's still taking time for myself but is that OK? I know there's a way to find a balance but I'm not sure what it is. There is a part of me that is so ready for the next and final step -- but I just can't seem to get it going. Maybe it will happen this summer when there is less stress -- but should I put off joy? Maybe I will start tomorrow.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Disorderly Conduct

Perhaps it would have been easier if I were an alcoholic. Being a drug addict would have been too damned complicated. (You want me to mix what with what and inject it where???) Besides, my brother already has the market cornered on that dysfunction. Nearly everyone else in the family has been an alcoholic -- so perhaps my family would have paid more attention. Instead, they just assume I'm sitting around the house eating bon-bons while my housekeeper and nanny take care of my household responsibilities, including the kids.
OK. Yes, I have someone come in once a week and clean the house. She takes a layer off. I don't mind cleaning house when I have time, but I don't think I was put on this earth to clean. Sorry. There has got to be better stuff to do. Criticism from people who can't even see their floor doesn't really do much for me anyway. And as far as my nannies go -- I could lose my mind or hire a sitter here and there. Let's have a parenting contest and see who wins. Get off my ass for god sakes.
So now, since I'm clearly fat and lazy with no will power, those in the know are suggesting I have bariatric surgery.
I swear to God in heaven if one more person suggests that, I'm going to lose my ever lovin mind. If my weight problem had something to do with what I eat, it might be a different story. If I was drinking heavily I probably wouldn't be fat -- but would they suggest surgery? Probably not.
So it seems now I have an eating disorder, sleeping disorder and an attention disorder. Could I get more screwed up?
But here's the deal. I have the eating disorder about conquered. There is surgery available to fix the sleeping disorder. And as to the attention disorder -- I decided I would do some research and make the "disorder" work for me. I actually think the ADD thing could work with me and I think I'd be boring without it.
Everyone else can keep their judgements to themselves. This whole fat phobia thing and judgement is enough to make my head spin. I'm going to have to lead a revolution.

Monday, March 19, 2007

Is fat contagious?

I feel so strong right now. I want to shout from the mountaintops about my new found freedom. I want everyone to shed the chains of the diet dictators -- and live free to be who they are in whatever shape they find comfortable. In my little naive world, I'd think everyone would embrace this. Instead, I find a few people smile at me sweetly and offer a comforting pat on the shoulder. In their head, I think they're saying something like this: "Poor little fat girl. She thinks she can change the world. She is so very wrong, but I'll offer some support to the misguided thing." The other reaction I get-- in fact the reaction I get most often -- is one of fear. It's as if they're saying: "I'd like to join you on your crusade, but you're fat and I don't want to be fat. If I sign your Declaration of Independence then I might become fat like you."
The sad thing is, the people that react like this are most often the people that really need to declare independence from Ed and Vicki more than anyone else. Ed and Vicki have such a hold on them, they live in constant fear of being who they really are. That who they are will be unacceptable to the world around them -- even to those that truly love them for who they are.
I'm of a mind to take this show on the road, to write a book, go on tour and tell everyone they don't have to buy into the rhetoric. You don't have to look like a Barbie to have a successful and productive life. We no longer have to kill ourselves trying to fit a norm that is inhumane and unrealistic. We don't have to put our lives on hold -- we can experience joy at any time regardless of what the tag says in the back of your pants.
But in the back my mind I keep hearing a voice, it's probably Vicki's voice, the kill-joy that she is, saying: "No one will believe you. You're too fat. Once you lose a little weight and look healthier, then you'll have some credibility."
Now, intellectually I know that I speak well in public and that I can make my point no matter what. But, when someone looks at me in horror when I tell them about my crusade, I wonder. Am I insane? How can I make a point when I look the way I do?
I've had these thoughts floating around my head for about a month now. Then, my friend Nancy S. sent me a link to a wonderful site: There I read a story about another woman's frustration. Writer Kim Brittingham ( an incredible essay about her experience with fat phobia. To combat the horrid looks, stares and comments she got while riding the New York City bus system, she created a fake book cover that reads: "Fat is Contagious -- How sitting next to a fat person can make you fat." So instead of just idly sitting on a bus, she gets to watch idiots react in horror and supporters wink at her knowingly.
What a great idea! What courage and creativity! Kim Brittingham is my new hero.
She could have climbed inside herself and become depressed, even self destructive. But she didn't. She not only took the high road, she did so with a sense of humor ... and more importantly a sense of self.
You can read her essay at:
I've corresponded with her a couple of times. She sounds like a dynamic and intelligent woman. If I ever get back to New York City, I'll buy her a beverage. In the meantime, I'll enjoy my copy of "Fat is Contagious" ...

Thursday, February 22, 2007

And now for something completely different...

I'm always so serious here -- So here's something fun. I'm feeling weird today. So am having a lazy day as if I had time to do such a thing.
Create your own Friend Test here

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Karma's Constituion

It's time for a revolution. I have written my own Declaration of Independence (of course inspired by the book "Life without Ed") and I ask you to sign it. Read it all out loud in your strongest voice. Feel it. Become it, then pass it on. I want at least one person a day to sign this Declaration of Independence for the month of February. To sign, just add your name in the comments window. Don't forget to leave suggestions for other "Rights". Feel free to pass on this link to your friends and family. (Just make sure my name is attached somewhere as I am copyrighting it.)I want to hear from everyone. Let's lead a revolution away from guilt, self doubt and worry.
Come on girls, let's hear you roar.

At no other time in our history have we been better educated about the food we eat. Yet, at no other time in history have we been less healthy.
Appearance, in this society, is everything. Americans, especially women, define their worth not by their values or morals -- not even by the quality of their soul or existence. Instead, American women determine their self worth based on the numbers on a scale. We put our lives on hold waiting to experience joy until we lose weight. We drive ourselves toward a perfection that cannot be achieved -- all the while, sacrificing time with our family, friends and most importantly, ourselves.
We speak gently to our loved ones, but spew poisonous venom to the image in the mirror.
It’s time to stop this insanity.
Declaration of Independence

By signing below I hereby declare independence from the tyranny of the scale.

From this point forward I will not judge myself or others based on appearance.
I will not postpone joy while waiting to achieve a standard that is impossible.
I will not use a scale or the size of my clothing to determine my self worth.
Instead, I will seek joy in all that I do. I will see someone’s heart before I make assumptions about their health, wealth or moral standards.
I will eat food that nourishes and strengthens my body, but more importantly I will eat foods that I enjoy. Furthermore, I will do so with relish and pleasure and without guilt or making my self sick.
I am in control and will not let anyone tell me how I should look, what I should eat, what I should wear.
I am beautiful. Not because of how I dress, what I weigh or how anyone else sees me. I am beautiful … simply because I exist.
Bill of Rights

1)I have a right to enjoy my life without worrying about whether or not I am acceptable to anyone else.

2)I have a right to experience joy regardless of my pants size.

3)I have a right to feel comfortable in my clothing. I will no longer buy clothes based on the size, but on the cut and fit in proportion to my likes and lifestyle.

4)I have right a right to be able to find comfortable, affordable clothing without being banished to the back of the store or paying more for that “extra fabric”.

5)I have a right to sit down and enjoy my meal. I will never again skip a meal or drink a meal replacement shake in hopes of becoming more acceptable to society’s standards.

6)I have a right to seatbelts that fit comfortably and safely in any plane, train or automobile I choose to use for transportation.

7)I have a right to feel good. I take care of myself because I’m worth it.

8)I have a right to live without fear and guilt

9)I have a right to define my own sense of fashion.

10) I have a right to be loved – not for how I look, but for who I am.

11)I have a right to good customer service and not to be stalked through a store because I might break something.

12) I have a right to be me – however I chose to define me. I am powerful. I am in control and I love who I am.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Introducing ED

I remember the day I lost control.
It was the day ED moved into my head. I was adjusting to life as a mother. My daughter was less than a year old. Actually she was probably only 3 months old or so. It was a sunny day with a light breeze. (The name ED is suggested by "Life Without Ed" by Jenni Schaefer )
You know how it is when you first become a mom. You have to manage a day around the demands on an infant. As much as you might try to establish a routine, the reality is when the infant is hungry she needs fed.
A neighbor, let's just say a high-maintenance friend -- and I decided to go shopping together.
The problem was, I allowed her to control the day -- and I got home and I had to deal with the demands of my husband and the baby. I don't recall what it was that I actually wanted to do, but I know I didn't get to do it.
I realized that I wasn't in control anymore and that's when I opened the door to ED. He offered me comfort, healing. He said he could comfort me.
He offered me a big of Lays potato chips. I don't even like those chips, but I ate the better part of a bag, drowning my sorrows in salt and saturated fats.
After that, the proverbial "box" was opened.
I remember consuming bags of Halloween candy later that year. My husband, finding piles of wrappers in my car one day asked me what I was doing.
I would get up in the middle of the night and eat anything I could find.
I would plan my day, my life around meals.
As I had more children and moved further away from my unfettered life, ED offered me comfort and kindness -- his version of healing and health.
He had become the most important person in my life.
I trusted ED before I trusted anyone or anything else.
Somewhere I started believing that someone else always knew better. Someone else was always right.
I stopped listening to me.
I stopped listening to the people who truly cared for me unconditionally and only heard the conditional voices.
That's when Ed's partner Vicki was able to gain strength.
She's always been a part of my life, but at no other time did I allow her to become so strong.
It wasn't long before they were the only people I truly cared about. My own spirit, voice and conscience was lost.
Now as I try to silence their voices I'm finding it truly empowering to physically separate their voices from mine in print. My counselor, Megan ( ) says it's good that I've been getting the last word in my dialogues. I struggle everyday, but am determined to win the battle.

Reclaiming Karma

Many years ago
I was set adrift
Since then, I have followed the current
Simply going where the river took me.
There have been many times when I could barley breath as I felt the strength of the current pull me under.
I have bounced into rocks, been caught in whirlpools and been tangled in the underbrush
All the while
Just surviving in the currents control
But now I can see myself on the shoreline.
At times, the current is too strong. It pulls me back in, but I am clawing at the sore.
This is my life
My adventure
I will no longer be a victim to the currents path
But will choose my own path.
I am claiming this bit of shoreline for myself.
I am in control
This is my earth
My river
And I'll plant a flag of freedom right here.
Right now.
I am not a victim
I am your challenge
I am a force of nature.

You know, I wrote this last summer. Water, and my connection to it, has been a reoccurring theme in my recovery. You can image my shock and joy when I discovered the passage in "Eating in the Light of the Moon" that I mention in the post titled "Art Therapy".

Filling the void

I've been going through my journal and I found a couple of essays I thought might be of interest to you.

There is this emptiness
A void
I keep trying to fill it with all the wrong things
A dozen or more hobbies
A committee here, a volunteer project there. . .
Mostly food.
As if somehow the feeling of being full would be enough to keep me from falling into the void.
Nothing worked. I don't really remember what it feels like to feel whole.
One day last May, I realized instead of trying to fill the void, I was trying to get out.
You had pushed me in when I wasn't looking.
These days it feels like I'm sitting in the darkness.
Sometimes I can feel the light on my shoulders and it feeds me -- fills me.
I keep waiting for you to give me a rope -- a lifeline.
But I don't think you'll ever do that.
I have to use the harsh words and neglect to fashion myself a shovel.
I'm digging my way up and out of here and leaving the pain you've caused behind.
I can feel the dirt begin to build underneath my nails as I claw away at the anger of resentment.
Beads of sweat appear on my brow as I step over the manipulation, the abuse.
At times, it seems insurmountable.
All I have the energy to do is cry. I know in my heart, it's worth the journey. It's possible to feel warmth again.
You may have put me here, but you don't have the power to bury me.


You know those voices in your head? The ones you argue with each time you try to make a decision? For years, I thought it was the good ol' angel/devil on my shoulder, but thanks to the inspiration from Megan, my counselor ( and the book "Life without Ed" by Jenni Schaefer.( along with "Eating in the Light of the Moon" ( I've been able to separate the voices from my own inner voice. Maybe it's the voice of my soul. What I do know, is that it's my own true voice.

I have to admit Vicki is throwing a fit today. Last night, we celebrated my 40th birthday. I'm hung over. I decided to take the day off. I'm still in my pajamas. I've done very little today but eat and sleep. The way I see it, that no big deal. I drink so rarely afterall. I drank last night so I'm being a sloth today and it feels good.
Vicki is enraged. She's such a bitch. She keeps telling me about all the things I should be doing. Sometimes it's hard to tell her voice from mine, but I'm pretty sure it's her telling me I should be cleaning house or something. Right now she's fighting me because I want to write a book about this journey I've been on. Vicki keeps telling me I'll just be making a fool of myself.
Gawd, I hate that woman.
One of the things Megan( ) encourages me to do is write out the dialogues I have with Vicki and ED.
Here are several. I wrote the most recent one Jan. 3. I really want this blog and a book I'd like to write to be of inspriration to other women. Vicki says I can't do it.
You know you have nothing to offer other women. You're still too fat. Why would anyone believe you?
I have to try. I'll regret it if I don't at least try.
You're going to make a fool of yourself. You know knowing and, oh, by the way, YOU'RE STILL FAT. You'll be laughted out of the room.
If I help just one person -- if just one person finds inspriation -- than my goal is fulfilled. The rest is trivia.
You disgust me. You're an idiot for thinking you can offer anything to others -- especially when you look in the mirror sister. Who do you know that couldn't zip of their pants yesterday? You can't help anybody. At least until you've started to lose weight.
Who is more pathetic? You thrive on other people's weakness. You have no value. You are hollow. You only exist because I allow you to. Without me, you are nothing. Without you, I am everything.

Here are some other dialogues:
You're hungry.
No, I'm thirsty.
Listen to me. Your stomach growling. For something sweet.
No, I'm just overwhelmed and frustrated. If anythging, I'll have some tea.
Didn't you see that commercial? You should take a weight loss drug. It would expedite your weight loss and get you to where you should be.
I need to go to bed, but I want to watch this show. You two need to die.

I think I’ll go for a walk in the morning.
No. It will be too cold. And besides you can sleep in tomorrow. For the first time in weeks.
So – I want to take a walk.
You can’t wear you boots, with your ankle still infected. It will be too snowy. You should stay in.
If it’s too snowy, I’ll find something else to do – maybe I’ll work out with my band and ball
You’ve been wishing for time to sleep in and you’ll get it tomorrow – just sleep in.
I’ve been wishing for time to exercise. Without the pressure of getting the kids to school, I can take a morning stroll.
Look, you haven’t been feeling well, Your ankle hurts. Rest. Rest is what you need.
You know, the only reason you don’t want me to take a walk is because if I get healthy you’ll be too weak to control my life. That’s not my problem. It’s yours.


You know you’re a big failure. You didn’t get everything done for Christmas in time. You still have a ton of shipping. The house is a mess. You spent too much money. You have people arriving tomorrow and you’re no where near ready. You’ll never get it all done and if you do, it will be half assed. You should be ashamed of yourself. You once again tried to do too much. When will you ever learn?

You know, I’m ahead of where I was this time last year. I’ll get done what I can get done and the rest can wait. The point is to enjoy the holiday.

Your inlaws will be here Saturday and this house is a pit. You don’t have the craft projects ready for the kids. You’re going to disappoint everyone.

That would be someone else’s problem. What needs to get done will get done. Other moms can help with the craft stuff – and the kids can play outside or watch a movie. Maybe they won’t want to do crafts anyway. The point of the day is to spend time with family. The rest is trivia.
But it would be much better if you could make them envious. You should be able to prove to them how organized and capable you are not what a wretched slob you are. They’re pathetic people, show them how good you are.
They are pathetic in some cases, but I’m not going to lower myself to their level. I’m going to enjoy time with my family. If someone is not comfortable, they can leave.
They’re going to continue to think of you as a big ol fat slob and you’re going to deserve the title.
No I’m not. I am who I am. If they can’t handle it, it’s their problem. Not mine.
Gawd you’re fat and disgusting. Don’t you look into the mirror before you go out?
You know, I’m not here to win a fashion contest. I’m just here to help with the Girl Scout meeting.
Those other mothers and kids must think you’re pathetic.
I don’t care what those other mother’s think. I’m here to support my daughter and her friends.
You know they make clothes that flatter your body more. Maybe you shouldn’t volunteer for anything until you've lost weight.
I like to help. Anna, the leader, works very hard for little recognition and little help. I just need to support here and share my daughter’s life. Besides I love being around the kids and all the hugs.
You don’t really deserve those hugs. You’re too fat.
If you weren’t fat you wouldn’t need hugs from small children.
You know – I love these girls and I’m a good role model. I’ll be an even better role model when you’re dead and I hope that’s soon.


You absolutely cannot write that book. You shouldn’t even think about it. You’re too fat. No one is going to believe you You might be able to do something after you’ve lost some weight, but not now. Don’t even bother.
Maybe I’ll catch the eye of a publisher. Maybe I’m just what they’re looking for and will want to work through the journey with me. If you’re right, I’ll just try again later. But I don’t think it will hurt to try.
You’re going to humiliate your family and yourself. You’re going to be laughed at
I think I might just get laughed all the way to the bank. And to top it off. I might help someone else.
You’ll probably get sued for offering poor advice or quoting without attribution or something. Don’t be stupid -- write on your little blog if you want. Maybe even for the local paper, but don’ try to do a book. That’s just stupid.
No – I’ll regret it if I don’t try.