Tamara and Benji Round 2 & 3

I open the bathroom cupboard and take the scale out of it's hiding place. I hide it to try and conceal it's power over me. Yet that power is so strong that I continue to use it on a daily basis, even though it has never said a positive word to me or has ever given me any good news, I still use it. I have never once liked what it has told me. In fact I don't even really like the scale itself. I hate the relationship we have. I am so codependent on it. Without it I feel out of control, with it I feel inferior and worthless. This is not a fun way to feel about oneself.

I place the scale on the floor. I stare at it. Actually it is more like a glare. I hate the sight of this thing, this plastic, metal, electrical contraption that was invented just to torture me. I pick up my right foot to step on the scale. My foot is clothed with a sock, the rest of me is clothed as well...jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, bra, underwear, earrings and ring. As I pause with my right foot an inch from the ground I start calculating in my head the weight of all that I am wearing. The anxiety starts. That all too familiar feeling of panic, worthlessness and confusion. I say to myself, "It's allright. I will weigh myself clothed and then I'll get undressed and weigh myself again because it won't be accurate if I weigh myself fully clothed." No one stops me to get me to realize that there is no point in weighing myself at all because I won't like what I see no matter what I do.

I start to move my right foot towards the scale and stop. I can't do it. I think, "I've already eaten breakfast today. It won't tell me my real weight because I still have the weight of what I've eaten today to weigh me down. Plus, I have to go to the bathroom. I need to rid myself of that before weighing myself."

I put my right foot back down on the ground.

I sit down on the side of the tub. Exhausted, drained from this mental battle. A battle that I face on a daily basis. A battle that happens daily due to this piece of plastic holding it's power over me. I lower my head. My hands reach up to catch the weight of it. I sit there, alone, in the bathroom, struggling to make sense of my inner struggle. I think to myself, "Why do I do this? Who in their right mind weighs themselves so excessively? Who, but me, puts all of their self worth into a scale?"

I realize right then and there that I cannot continue this way any longer. I know what I must do. I must kill it. I stand up, filled with conviction. I pick up that scale and walk outside. I place it on the concrete walkway. I see the mallet resting against the house, the mallet that Casey used the other day. I pick up that mallet. I feel it's weight in my arms. It gives me power that I didn't know I had.

In a voice, aloud for all the world to hear I proclaim to the scale, "I no longer allow you to have power over me. I release myself from your negativity. I do not want you in my life. I free myself from your power."

I pick up that mallet and slam it down on the scale with all my might. The scale barely gets a dent in it. "You're gonna take the hard way, huh?" I say to the scale with a sneer. I pick up that mallet again, swing down with more strength then I ever knew I had. The mallet makes contact with the scale and creates a gaping hole right in the middle of it. I smile. I am killing it. That thought makes me happy. I swing down again, and again, and again until all that is left of it is bits and pieces of plastic. I am heaving from the work. But I'm also smiling. I am feeling freer than I have ever felt in my entire life. I look up at the sky and watch the clouds as they pass. I sense that I have accomplished something great just now, other than just destroying a scale, but not sure what that "great" thing is just yet.

I look back down and see that the scale is still there, laying all over the back porch in smithereens. Time to rid myself completely of this evil beast. I gather all the pieces up in a dust pan. I walk triumphantly to the garbage can and toss what used to be the scale into the garbage can. I can hardly wait until Monday when the garbage men come to take it away from me forever. I walk back into the house, back to the bathroom and it is there that I realize what the "great" thing is that I accomplished.

I have rid Benji, my eating disorder, of it's most powerful weapon over me. It no longer has this scale in it's artillery. I feel vindicated. I think, "what other weapons can I get ride of?"

I rush to the closet. I see the "skinny" clothes hanging there. The "skinny" clothes from when I was anorexic. I no longer think of them as "skinny" clothes but as my "sick" clothes. I rip them from their hangers, tear them out of the drawers. I shove all of them in a garbage sack. I rid myself of their negative power of me. They no longer get to tell me every morning, "Look how fat you are. You're so fat that you can't fit into us anymore. Don't eat! That's how you'll get us back." I don't care about getting them back. Sure I was skinny when I fit in them, but at what cost? The cost of losing my hair? The cost of looking ashen and hollow? If that's what it is to be "skinny" then I was certainly fooling myself.

I know I must carry this mound of clothing to the garbage can. It's a heavy load to carry, but knowing that I'm throwing them away gives me the strength I need to continue. Once I pick them up I realize that they aren't as heavy as I thought them to be. Out of the house I walk and into the can they go. They rest atop the shards of the scale.

Benji is down another piece of ammo.

I walk back to the house, I am triumphant. I have won not only 1 battle today but 2. I know that I am better than what those material things told me I was. I have a womanly figure that is attractive and beautiful. I now realize that a size cannot make me feel beautiful, that a number on a scale does not signify my self worth. There is only one person that can make me feel beautiful. Who is that person you ask? Only yours truly...myself.

I have a long road to go yet until this war is won. Knowing that I have the power inside me to create my own happiness is all the ammo I need to defeat Benji. He's going down. He's getting weaker.

And every day I'm getting stronger.

Tamara 3/Benji 0

A Lightbulb Moment

It was Thursday morning and I was taking a bath. It has become a new ritual for me while I'm taking a bath to repeat a daily affirmation to myself. Thursday's was "I love myself". Not an easy affirmation to believe when one has been so self loathing as I have been recently. While I was repeating this affirmation to myself of self love I had what one of my therapists calls a "light bulb moment".

This moment was such a blow to the head that I literally heard myself gasp in the bathroom. It echoed off the bathroom walls as if the moment itself became an affirmation. I was at once amazed and awed by this new self discovery. First I had to stop for just a minute. Calm myself down. I had to reason myself out of this new idea. Could this really be true? I began to think of all the things that I have done in the past 2 1/2 weeks.

I realized that I needed to go to treatment. I went to get an assessment to see if this treatment would be good for me. When it was decided that it would be I started going to treatment. I have worked hard during my treatment days to end this eating disorder. I have begun to bring these new concepts I'm learning into my home environment so that I can work on them at home. I work everyday to stop all the destructive behaviors I have such as: negative self talk, staring in the mirror and checking myself constantly to make sure I don't look gross (even though I always came to the conclusion that I did). I have reached out to family and friends for support.

Why would I do these things? What is the point behind all of this hard work? The answer is what slapped me upside the head. The answer is because...

I really do love myself!

Why else would I be making changes to better myself and have a better life? I can't believe that I have fooled myself into thinking that I don't love myself when all along I really did. This will be a new way of life for me. Instead of not doing things because I don't matter anyway, I will be doing things because I'm worth the effort. I am a person that is valuable. At least I'm valuable to me and in the long run I'm the only person that needs to believe that. What other people think of me is none of my business.

What an amazing, unique, foreign and lovely concept.

I love myself.

This is going to be a good way to live life.

Sugar and self doubt

I'm 33 years old. I graduated high school when I was 18, that was 15 years ago. I look back on those 15 years for accomplishments that I have achieved. Sadly, I don't see very many. This is a true indication of how I have not been living my life to the fullest. I keep waiting to achieve things until I am perfect enough. As if being perfect has anything to do with how successful one can become. Yet, I have allowed this one thing to consume my life. I have allowed myself to become so focused on becoming "perfect" that I don't have any real passion for life.

My days are filled with sitting around, watching tv, stuffing my face with food and waiting for that miraculous event to come and hit me over the head. It is difficult for me to plan to be away from home for any length of time because I might be gone too long and then where will I be able to binge. I have declined many offers to go to movies, parties, gatherings and such because I didn't want to leave the safety of my house and the solitude of being able to eat alone. If I ate alone I wouldn't be judge. Little did I know that I was being judged all along by those I declined to do things with. These people were confused because they saw a confident girl who enjoys laughing and they couldn't understand why I didn't want to go out and have fun.

The confidence thing has always confused me. I have been told that I appear to be a very confident person. Man, I have been able to pull the wool over a many pair of eyes! I am so very opposite of confident that the word to describe me should be self-conscious. In fact I am so self-conscious I might as well be artificial. At least that's how I feel. It's like fake sugar, it tastes like real sugar, looks like real sugar but is so far away from what real sugar really is that it's amazing.

The artificial me has built up a wall of protection but this last week that wall was broken down. In all honesty, I have tried to build the wall back up but it cannot ever compare to the structure it once was. So...I have left it to lay in it's own crumbles. Instead of Humpty Dumpty not being put together again, my wall of artificial sweetener has not been put back together again. I must say that I miss it. However, I realize how uncomfortable it made me at the same time.

So how do I get from this self-conscious, newly exposed girl to a confident and self assured woman? Will I become this way over time as I experience new adventures? I'm not sure. What I do know is that I'm done waiting to be "perfect" to start living life. Perfect is unattainable. What does perfect even look like? Who cares! I don't want to be perfect anyway. I want to be myself, that includes all of my feelings, all of my flaws and all of my positive attributes as well. I have decided that if someone doesn't like me, as I truly am, then screw 'em. They weren't meant to be my friend anyway. I am no longer going to hide behind a saccharine wall just so someone will like me, just so I can wait around to be able to do something.

This imperfect woman is going to begin living her life, today. I will no longer sit on the side lines watching the game with nachos in my hands. I will instead be the one in the game. To win this game it will take blood, sweat and probably quite a few tears. It is a dream of mine now not to look back at my life and still see an unhappy girl stuck in a wall of perfection constructed out of self doubt but instead to see a confident, self assured, imperfect woman baring it all to the world with a steady line of accomplishments behind her.

True Self

It is Friday September 11, 2009. I feel as if I am starting life anew. I am looking at the world from a fresh set of eyes. Eyes that have only seen blurriness the last week but are starting to clear up and the world is beginning to come into focus. It seems to me that it is only natural to feel as if I am restarting life, considering that prior to entering this E.D. program I was not living life. Nor was I feeling life. I was sheltering myself from reality and truth. I only allowed myself to focus on what wouldn't enter past my protective shell all the while believing that no one could tell it was there.

Reality came and struck me in the face this week. It felt like the slap that Cher gives to her boy toy in Moonstruck. She slaps him and then quips, "Snap out of it!" So I have snapped out of my false world of protection and have entered the very new and surreal world of feelings and truth, which is intimidating. In this new world of truth I am allowed to be myself, not the protected Tamara that everyone has seen previously. I feel more exposed than if I were to run through a mall naked. There is a rawness to allowing myself to fully express my true feelings, to allow myself to be open enough for people to see the real me.

When one allows this to happen doubts rush in like a flood. I have questions such as; "What if when they see the real me they no longer like who I am?", "What if they don't agree with how I'm feeling?" and "What if they don't believe me?" I have learned that if I allow these questions to dictate what I do then my life will never truly be mine because I will never be my true self.

The last 3 days I have pushed that wall down. I have revealed my true self. Was I ever surprised to learn that people liked me more. I was told I seemed more genuine, more authentic, more real. Because of that people wanted to reach out to me more and help me more. You could have knocked me over with a feather! To be accepted as I truly am with my feelings out in the open for all to see was scary yet comfortable at the same time. Sort of like when you watch a horror flick in your own home. You're as comfy as can be snuggled down in a blanket on the sofa and yet terrified as well for the dumb cheerleader who is entering the house without turning on the light. (Did I just relate myself to a dumb cheerleader?)

The last few days have seemed so surreal because everything is so very real. No longer are these blurry eyes trying to focus on just a few focal points but they are clear eyes looking at the world anew. Life right now is as if I'm a toddler. I relearning how to eat, think and feel; just like toddler. I'll say this, I would rather regress so that I can truly live life then push forward into my 34th year as hollow version of myself. So, I'll keep exposing the real me. I'll continue to allow my friends, family and new acquaintances to who the true Tamara is. As for running through the mall naked? I think I'll leave that for my dreams.

Solitaire

It's a quiet morning today. Of course, maybe that has something to do with the fact that I've been up for two hours already and it's only 6:00 am. Suffice it to say it was not a good night sleep. It wasn't even a half way decent night sleep. Now that I think about it, I'm wondering, "did I even sleep?" Can a person actually get sleep in between checking the clock every half hour? ugh

The permanent fog that has come to rest on my eyes and forehead no longer feels foreign to me. The awkward numbness and pain that travels from my armpit down to the tips of my fingers no longer feels alien. The beast named Benji yelling in my head no longer seems like a distraction. Instead, these things have become a part of me. They have become so much a part of me that I'm wondering how I will function when I am able to get rid of them. These things are not easy to live with yet live with them I must...at least for now.

Of course I have been prescribed painkillers and medication to assist with easing the pain, the insomnia and the depression. They only do some of the work to alleviate what I am experiencing. The rest is left up to me to cope with through ice and heat treatments, meditation and basically doing anything to get my mind onto something else. This is why the night time is so treacherous. It is much easier to find a way to get your mind off the pain, fatigue and depression when the sun is up and activities are easily found to do. In the middle of the night when the world is asleep and it seems like you are the only left alive in the world, the most difficult thing to do is getting your mind off those problems.

It is in the middle of the night when I am at my lowest point. The fatigue causes my eyes to constantly droop close. I think for an instant, "finally, sleep has arrived." But then reality sets in and I realize that they are only closed for a few seconds before I feel the pain roar in again. I decide to play a few games of solitaire on my phone. To no avail. The pain cannot be ignored no matter how many times I play. Then the depression sneaks it's way in and I become downtrodden and pessimistic. I start playing the "why me" game. It's a game that can never be won but is highly addicting.

Now here I sit. Still all alone in the world, so it seems. The sun is not up. The birds have yet to start their chirping. The dogs look at me as if to say, "lady, you're crazy, go back to bed!" Casey is still snuggled down in the covers. How I envy him right now. His face is fully relaxed and his body is enveloped in healing comforting sleep. I am thankful he is getting rest but jealous at the same time. Uh oh, here comes the "why me" game again. Why am I the one who can't sleep? Why am I the one in pain? Why am I the one who has an eating problem? Will the answer to these questions ever present themselves? Who knows.

What I do know is that I've got to make it through this. I've got to continue to keep pressing on and fighting this fight. My pessimistic side informs me that each day is a battle. The new and intriguing optimistic side says that each day is a chance to start anew. Right now it seems as if I have to struggle through the battle to be able to start anew. There have been a lot of battles and there are many more to come. In fact, I don't see an end in sight. How will I get through them all? For a warrior to be at their best they must be well rested. How can I continue fighting a war when rest never comes?

Right now this warrior is exhausted. My eyelids keep drooping as I write this. Is sleep finally here? Nope, the pain has snapped me awake again, dammit.

Time for some solitaire.

Benji

It is 1:00am. I am awakened yet again by the pain. The pain in my shoulder that with the aid of pain killers ebbs away but never truly diminishes. I stare at the ceiling, praying to God, the Divine Spirit and Mother Nature to please take away my pain. I think, "if I could just get past this shoulder pain then this eating disorder's gonna be a breeze to kick." I lay there. And I lay there until I realize that today is not the day that they are going to answer my call. Instead I start hearing someone, something calling my name, reaching out to me.

The way in which it calls out to me is filled with yearning, despair and grief. This voice calling out to me reaches to the depths of my soul. I can feel the sorrow from the roots of my hair to the very tips of my toes. It clutches my gut and clings on as if to say, "I'm not letting go. I cannot be alone. I've been with out you for far too long."

It is at this moment that I realize who this voice belongs to, it's my dear old arch nemesis, it's my partner in crime, it's...my eating disorder. His name is Benji. It seems as if Benji is here to win me back. He starts back in with the same old lines he always has: "I won't get out of control this time", "I never meant to hurt you", "You told me that we had fun together" and my favorite line of his, "Weren't you the one who told me that I understood you like no one else could?"

I feel myself freeze. I don't know what to do. I feel so weak against his constant barrage of comments. I know I don't want to go back to him but at the same time I have been mourning his vacancy in my life. I close my eyes. I inhale sharply. I push the air way down in my lungs like one does when trying to stop hiccups. I slowly, ever so slowly exhale. I start to open my eyes but they are weighed down with guilt. The most I can open them is just enough to look down at my feet. This guilt come with the terror of knowing that I am going to let Benji back in my life. The guilt is here because I am not strong enough to turn him away.

Benji whispers his secret soothing message to me. I know automatically what I must do. I pull back the covers. I sit up in bed, a task not easily performed with one shoulder down for the count. I delicately place my feet on the ground and stand up. Once again, I take a deep breath and push it down, this time it feels like I have pushed the breath all the way down to my toes. I begin my journey to my comfort zone. It is a well worn path and one I can travel with my eyes closed. It only takes 10 steps and the comfort zone is reached. It is in this comfort zone that I feel cocooned with love but also steeped in self hatred. The kitchen.

I reach up for my favorite binge item and make the journey back to the bedroom. I slowly, ever so carefully open the box and the bag inside; can't wake any one up. The fear of someone discovering what I'm doing is enormous. I reach in the box, grab a handful of cereal and stuff it in my mouth. I close my eyes expecting relief, heaven, soothing comfort. Instead the cereal, my favorite snack in the world, tastes like saw dust. I'm not giving up though because that hole has to be filled. I reach in again and again and again. The saw dust taste remains. Then I do something that amazes myself. I stop eating. Me. The over eater, the binger, I stop eating.

It is at this moment that I realize I have been duped yet again. Benji has swooped in, deceived me into believing him and he has hurt me once again. Why would this time have been any different. He's never done anything but hurt me. I close the box of cereal. This doesn't shut him up. I confidently walk back to the kitchen and place what was once my favorite snack food back in the cupboard. Benji is louder than ever before.

I walk back to the bedroom all the while Benji is screaming at me. Yelling at me. Telling me what a failure I am. Snickering to me that I'm a loser. I crawl in bed, pull the covers over me and stare up at the ceiling. Benji is still raging at me. This time when I pray to God, the Divine Spirit and Mother Nature I am praying for them to protect me from my demon. I pray to keep him away from me. I pray for strength to defeat him.

It is now 7:45am. Benji is still at it, but I have not allowed his abusiveness to convince me to hurt myself. Instead I have reached out to those who love me. I have come out of hiding and have found support in those who love me. It is now that I realize that I'm still at war with Benji but I think I might have actually won a battle for a change. And Benji, if you're listening, this won't be the last one I win. I'm in this war for the long haul. I am building my defenses. The numbers in my army are increasing. One of these days you will be defeated for good. One of these days I'll be free from your terrorizing clutches.

For now though I am relishing in this small victory.

Tamara 1/Benji 0

Dear John Letter

Dear Eating Disorder,

I don't know how to say this other than to just come out and say it. The time has come for us to go our separate ways. We used to be the best of friends. I really did enjoy the time I spent with you. Our relationship was so comfortable. I look back on those day so fondly. But lately I get the feeling that you aren't giving me what I need anymore.

Don't get me wrong, you've done a lot for me in my life. You have filled a void that no one else has been able to fill. When ever the going got tough you were always there for me. You were my confidante. My partner in crime.

However, when I look at our relationship now, I no longer see you as a confidante but as my arch nemesis. Instead of letting me live my life and let me be who I am, you are holding me back from getting any enjoyment from life. I can't even get any enjoyment from the little things. I've tried breaking up with you in the past but have not had the power to stay away from you for very long. I have always returned to you, even though I know you are not any good for me, I have always returned to you.

I still don't know if I have the power to end our relationship. However, what I do know now is that I have the support of those who love me standing by my side. I have let others in on our little relationship. My family and friends know how dysfunctional and abusive it is for me to stay in this relationship any longer. They are providing me with endless support and love regarding my decision. They will stand by me and provide me with strength when I feel I have none.

I have realized that unlike my family and friends you've never supported me, you have only weighed me down. When I'm with you I seclude myself from others, I feel negative thoughts about myself and I don't see any hope towards the future. The only thing I'm concerned about when I'm with you, is you.

I can no longer live this way, because, let's be honest, this is no way to live a life. I can no longer eat my way through life. I want to be able to live life to the fullest, be able to experience all that is out there in this world and more than anything I want to be able to love myself.

It is for all these reasons that our relationship must end. Please know that I will miss you, all those trips to the kitchen at night, the covert operations to sneak food and the feeling that you would give me when I was fuller than I every thought I could be, yes I will miss you.

But for the sake of my well being I must end this. And I must end it now. Please do not contact me or try to visit. This may sound harsh, but I want nothing to do with you. From now on I have no room for you in my life. I will be busy moving on and growing up.

I do wish you the best.

Sincerely,

Tamara