Perceived Progress.

This is not a weight loss journey, it is a journey to help my self become a better person and to stop fighting this obsession with food.

I wanted to talk for a minute about perceived progress.

As you know, I’ve talked about progress in the past, in a very specific way that has been more geared towards the relationship with food, and my voice in food… And really the way I can manipulate my food in order to get the results I want with my body.

This is not the message I want to get across when I talk about progress. It’s not about weight loss, it’s not about the manipulation of your surroundings to get the results you want in your body.

I will talk more about my voice in food in the future. I think I mentioned it before, but It is a huge important part of this journey.


I’m a fucking addict. I have codependent traits and recently they came out in different ways that I didn’t really expect.

Something that has been holding me back from my weight loss and the real picture staying on track with my food and my personal journey has been the amount of drinking I’ve indulged in lately. Actually, it’s more than just that, it’s much deeper and a little unsettling.

I have mentioned before my awkward manner, if I haven’t here is a little window into that… I am socially awkward, super introverted unless I have to be, which leaves me to be anxious and unsettled in social situations… of course this is unless i choose them myself and have some sort of investment in them.

Lately I’ve been engaging in social situations I hate, and it’s not because I want to, but because I’m being supportive of friends who want me to be there AND I want to be and like to be social (Such an oxymoron). Either way I’ve been coping with alcohol, which has been helping but not exactly in the way I am most interested.

I was using it to stay social, to numb out, to appear to be engaged, to make it through, or to listen to peoples antics. It’s something to do, to keep my mind busy while people go on and on, or to stay engaged, or to appear normal among a crowd.

Either way, it’s holding me back. It’s engaging that little coping addict inside, and feeding it in a new way. Once I picked up on this, I stopped. I stopped drinking, and using that as a crutch. What this means is that I’ve had to stop showing up to some of these things, and recognize that it’s okay. It also means that I need to be more present in the present as I’m with my friends. It also means that I need to breathe through the anxieties and the boredom.

When I say I’ve stopped drinking, i don’t mean that I’ve stopped completely. I will still have a drink, and usually it’s a beer I enjoy. It’s usually more of a mindful act and I am really careful about how and when I drink it. The mindfulness and presence I think is the key.

It also might mean that I need to branch out a little bit. Find people who’s conversation makes my spirit sing.

Progress part 2

I posted a while ago about the progress I’ve made with my eating disorder.

With ordering food the way I want, and the things I do less and less these days.

It’s been a while since I’ve read that post, and all though yes, I’ve made progress… In the last year, that progress has allowed me to stay complacent in my addiction issues… Lord Voldemort (See previous post), muwahahaha, has taken over and allowed me to use these progress ideas as staying intact with its evil side.

I’ve been getting better about getting out of the spiral thinking. It has taken a lot for me to call a friend, or go for a walk, write, read, make lists, make some tea, take a bath…or engage in a different activity in order to get out of it.Sometimes the dwelling takes over and I just have to wallow in it sometimes and that’s okay too. (More on the dwelling later and the importance of grieving).

I’ve been getting really good at being more honest about my food stuff with my friends, family and strangers (less likely with strangers). This has helped normalize what has been going on for me, but also has allowed my family and friends accept me for the whole person I am. I want to say that sharing my story has been much harder with strangers, but as you can see that’s not true (since I’m sharing with you).

The biggest lie I’ve been telling myself though has been… “I don’t binge like I use to”. I binge with more awareness these days, awareness of the why I do it, and when I do it and the whole time I’m doing it. I don’t zone out and I choose different foods to snack with or binge with (Mostly because I don’t keep certain foods in my house). In the end, I still do it and that is indicative of the ED (eating disorder).

The more I share also with my friends, family and strangers, the more complacent I have become with it. Somewhere and some how I have accepted it, and have made it okay to eat foods that are alluring that suck me into my ED.

So here I am with my progress… Not quite where I was, not quite where I want to be, and more growth to come… After all, it’s a journey, not a destination.

Isolation is it’s favorite form.

I’ve always felt like I was two people. The one who is an addict and the one who is fighting to be herself. As my eating disorder shifts again, I am reflecting on it’s direction and the nasty part of myself that I really hate to admit is there. The addict inside lours me into so many things, and sometimes when I eat things it doesn’t feel like I have a choice.

I recently met with my counselor who talked about the addictive self and how sometimes it reacts and lours you in to things with out you even realizing it’s happening. It’s an entity that takes over and strikes when you least expect.

It’s also that piece that lives inside your brain that allows us to get caught up in a spiral of negative thinking. The one that goes in circles of how bad of a person you are. The one that calls you fat. The one who says, step on the scale and see how fat you are today. The one that says, you are too fat to do anything else so go ahead, sit on that couch AGAIN today (actually, it really says, go ahead sit on that couch again today because no one likes you, or everyone is too busy to hang out with you). Or the one that allows you to make excuses for your behavior, again. Excuses like… Oh you don’t want to go to the gym with me, I guess I won’t go. It’s an enabler for unhealthy behavior. **I chose unhealthy behavior instead of bad behavior because I no longer want to stigmatize myself as bad.

It likes making sure you are alone, so it can fully take over your body. No matter how many boundaries you set up for yourself, no matter how prepared you are the sneaky addicted bastard steps in and says “I know how I can get her to come back to me”. You know how Voldemort takes over people in Harry Potter and makes people act like his puppet? Gets them to do anything he wants, and makes you his puppet!?

That’s it. The addiction, says “drink, go ahead, drink with your friends, you will have fun, it’s the only way to connect with anyone, it’s the only way to not be awkward, its the only way to fit in…” What he’s really thinking is… “If she drinks, she will eat, and in a few days that girl will be all mine again”.

LORD VOLDEMORT also says things like… “It’s CHRISTMAS!!!! Everyone else are eating cookies, go ahead, treat yourself, you’ve been so good this season” What he’s really thinking…. “Later… I will have her with a whole box of Christmas snacks on the couch, where we can be alone together.”

You are probably thinking, what the fuck? This is the best way recently I can really describe it. It builds you up, allures you in with it’s goodness, and then it isolates you, beats you down and abuses you. You get so numb that you just sit there on the couch watching TV, or crying because you don’t think you can stop. Voldemort, at that time is winning.

Unfortunately it’s been isolating me lately, and after my last counseling apt my counselor spelled out all the ways that I had made excuses and was isolating myself in the last few months in about 5 sentences. She called me out, and all I could say was “That FUCKER”, relating to the addict self.

She is helping me get “Clean” again. Cutting out all the shit that allures me in and well of course I will continue to write and see her. I will no-longer be dancing for Lord Voldemort.

**In the future I will be writing about authentic relationships, and the impact while being sucked under lord Voldemort.



They are not just words.

You know that saying “Sticks and stones may brake your bones, but words could never hurt me?” Does that ring a bell from your elementary and middle school days?

Well, as I’m sure you have learned by now that words… will pretty much be remembered forever. In this blog post I will not use names, but will say all of the things that I can remember that has stuck with me since I can remember. I’m sharing mostly to vent, but also to let you know, you are not alone in how it affects our mind and body in the process.

First the words, then the process…


“Hah”, after walking in with make up too white for my face and a new haircut.

“What smells?” “Probably Rachael”

“You need mental and physical help for your weight”

After my friend donated her old Aberocrombie and Fitch jeans, I try them on and they didn’t fit “Maybe take this as motivation”.

“You would be so pretty if you lost weight”

“Do you stuff?”

Two of these statements were stated to me by friends, two were by the same person and one by a parent. None of it was said to hurt my feelings specifically (well maybe the first two were), and they probably didn’t know I heard them say things.. Either way, it has been apart of my journey and identity to this day… Okay.. It has been apart of my identity until about 5 years ago.

As we go around in life we pick up identities that we may or not intentionally create for ourselves. One for me was fat. Not just the identity that you were fat, but that being fat was bad. Being fat was gross, unhealthy and something that no one wanted to be.

The funny part was, I wasn’t that fat. No one talked about me being different at the time, I just got this idea that I was because I was so much taller and bigger than everyone else. I was 5’10 in the 7th grade and probably a size 12-14ish. I was probably the right size for my size, and the poor naive girl that I was didn’t even know what stuffing meant.

But because I had all of these people telling me that fat, not even fat, but being big was bad, I hated myself. I isolated myself, ate out of loneliness and well, eventually I became fat and became that person they hated and I hated myself even more.

I never threw up, or starved myself, it never really appealed to me. I did though remember thinking about food a lot in high school. I remember eating soy beans and thinking that they would be a good snack to help loose weight. That’s when I found out that I was allergic to soy, beans. They made my tummy hurt so bad, which was incentive to eat more, because then I wouldn’t want to eat at all.

The past 5 years I’ve spent undoing this damage. Undoing this “I hate myself” mentality. People like me and i’m starting to embrace that, and have started to like myself as well. It has taken a lot of time, and a lot of patience with myself to get to a healthier place, but it is possible.




Something Positive.

Not sure if I mentioned this before, but a month or so ago it became suddenly important that I had to be apart of my own growing food process.

After watching that documentary series on netflix by Michael Polland, I realized that something I had been missing was the slowing down of all the things. (Which is hard to do when you are ADD.) But none the less I knew I needed to slow down the cooking tasks, so much so they would become mindful and not so much of a chore…

One amazing way to see process in your food is to have a garden, nurture it and see it grow. My boyfriend built me a garden bed for my 31st birthday and his grandma and my mother gifted me garden supplies and starts.

I planted them and have had such joy in watering them every day and watching them grow. It has brought me so much happiness.

A part of this hobby that has been important, has been the time that I get in caring for it. It forces me to get out of the house, walk around my yard, soak up the vitamin C, and care for something else for a change. It’s pretty amazing actually.

Watering my plants has become one of my favorite things to do as of lately. I come home, sometimes will have a cold beverage in my hand, sun glasses on and walk around my yard with the spray hose just soaking my plants while I soak up the sun!

Afterwords I sometimes sit on my back porch with a book and my cold beverage relaxing and soaking up the goodness of all that I have in my life in this moment. My garden, all though small, is my sanctuary and I never ever ever thought I would ever say that.


I cannot remember the first time I picked my skin, but I remember in middle school getting zits and popping them. I think this is where my picking nature started.

I remember I would wear makeup to cover up the zits that would form on my face. Makeup covered all of my flaws and made me look like someone else. Which I covered more in my last post.

I have this thing on my upper arms where I get little red bumps. I was and am really self conscious of them. I started picking at my arms I think to deflaw them, which only made it worse and then from there I developed it further with picking at my chest, stomach and now legs. It’s a super nasty habit. I don’t get why I still do it, and I go through trends where I do it more often than not. 

It is linked, I think to more the self hatred, self harm side of me and body perfection. I get it though, it’s so not logical to pick your body to gain body perfection. I mean… I now have scars all over my body from it.

Scars that I’ve accepted, scars that I’ve grown to love and accept as a part of me and my days of hurting my body. They are battle wounds in a way. I have and am surviving addiction of food and self loathing. Those scars are apart of this journey.

Triggers come when you least expect.

When pregnant girls say they are like a giant whale. My mind goes to “shut the fuck up”. It’s hurtful. It’s like you are saying you are fat, and like me. I feel like I’m a giant fat whale, and have been for most of my life. It’s heartbreaking to hear and it’s hard to see when people are at a healthy weight say that about themselves… being pregnant is temporary. Being fat can be temporary too. But when you struggle with it for life, it starts to seem like a forever thing.

After hearing my friend talk about her beautiful pregnant self like that, in a jokey way… I got super self conscious and went home and ate some brownies (after being full from dinner) that we had hidden in our microwave from the night before. I felt so shitty about myself I did it anyway. I mean if I am a whale already, I might as well not only eat like one but maintain the look.

My anxiety about my body swarmed my mind. I know people have started to notice the weight coming back on. I know I have had to buy new pants. It’s hard to be so consumed about how I look all the fucking time and how people perceive me…. and how I perceive myself. Still fucking un worthy of anything. Shitty.

This thinking, is very weighing both physically with the weight and also mentally. I feel it in my face, I feel it in my sholdures, my tummy where the skin is expanding from the stress eating and my legs. Food as a coping mechanism is shit and it’s been the hardest thing to break myself from. I can’t just quit eating food.

Abusive asshole.

The person I’ve become hasn’t been someone I’ve wanted to be.

After talking with my counselor nearly two weeks ago, I uncovered this idea about how I’ve been in this abusive relationship with food, for 20 goddamn years! She encouraged me to look at abusive relationships, and break it down into categories. She sent me home with a sheet of paper that had different categories on it and what makes up an abusive relationships?

I have been wanting to explore these anyway so it was a perfect opportunity to do so. These categories are Psychological, Emotional, Physical, and the Illusion of being something different. After a few bubble baths, tears, and intense writing later I came up with a lot more than I even imagined I would.

I will first write what I discovered and conclude with the bigger picture of what came out of this exercise.

Psychologically my relationship with food has been abusive because….

  • My weight feels like i’m different from others, and not in a good way.
  • I will compare myself to others.
  • It brings out jealousy of what others have, because what others have is always better than what I have.
  • I constantly second guess myself.
  • Isolate myself from others.
  • Compares my body to others, not just weight, the whole picture.

Emotionally my relationship with food has been abusive because…

  • It makes me think negative things about myself: That I’m fat, ugly, heavy, boar.
  • The negative reel runs through my brain without permission.
  • Trained to want what others have.
  • Trained to think no one will like me unless I’m something else.
  • To feel sad or depressed, anxious.
  • Need to feel and be perfect.
  • Afraid to make mistakes.

Physically my relationship with food has been abusive because…

  • It stretches my skin.
  • Makes me feel bloated.
  • I pick my skin…
  • I have scars over my body from picking my skin.
  • History of internal damage.
  • Heartburn.
  • Stomach hurts.
  • Gas.
  • Clothes don’t fit.
  • Grind my teeth consciously and unconsciously.
  • Face hurts.
  • Shoulders hurt from tensing up.
  • Keeps me fat to disappear.
  • Punishes myself.

Illusion of what food has brought:

  • It’s great.
  • Brings light and friendship.
  • Feels safe.
  • Fills anxiety.
  • Comfortable
  • I know what to expect from it.
  • Makes me feel safe when I don’t know what else to do.
  • Becomes inviting and warm.
  • Familiar.
  • Happy.
  • Feeling of relief when eating it.

After crying in a bath of my own tears, I realized that not only are these things connected to food, but they were developed into a part of me. Into a personality trait I hadn’t expected to uncover. I have developed this twisted persona inside that was full of jealousy and judgement. I wanted to be or have what others have and if I couldn’t control it, I would react in a negative way. Coping through controlling things around me, mostly coping through food addiction. I realized this piece through re-visiting all of the past years negative interactions with my friends.

I had several friends this past year who had shared with me positive things that were happening in their lives. My reactions were less than ideal, and pretty bitchy. I pretty much almost ruined a friendship after reacting the way I did when a friend told me she was getting married. I’m actually fairly embarrassed of my behavior and after reflecting on these incidences I realized how judgmental and jealous I had acted. I wanted whatever they had. Weather it was they were getting married, or they bought a new car. I wanted the romance, I wanted the money, and I thought that it would make me happy, because it had made them happy.

The person I had become has been selfish, unhappy and overly judgmental.

I have become everything I never wanted to be. A selfish asshole, blaming others and things and really myself and body for my unhappiness.

I never thought I would or could ever be like him. I never thought that I could do that or that he would have that much of an impact on me. It wasn’t my fault. I was just a child. A child who absorbed everything. A child that didn’t have control over her surroundings, a child that didn’t have control and found a way to cope and gain some control in a world where she had none. As an adult I’ve continued this.

With that said, it’s hard to accept this dysfunctional self I created. I spent a week, laying in unhappiness, and watching tv. Letting my body melt into the couch. I came to a point of “welp, this is who I am, and have to accept it.” Using this, “lashing out at my friends” has been a coping mechanism in addition food which has been a form of punishment. Food in this case has become a pawn and used as an excuse to not improve and move forward. It is used in a way to cope, and to fulfill and ease pain, joy and used to bond with people or to hide from bonding with people.
So friends, hang in there with me. I am happy for you, just show it in really dysfunctional ways. More to come.