I have suffered with an eating disorder for 25 years. This is my path through recovery.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Spilled MilkSome days it’s laugh or cry, and I gotta laugh. I do need to say something somewhere about this whole mess I've been in because I realized last night that keeping the absolute rage bottled up within me is taking its toll in several ways. My eating has been demolished and my rage issues (gee? didn't I conquer those once?) have come screaming back, just to name two.
I got a chocolate frosty all over some books and papers last night and had a complete screaming meltdown that ended in childish, frustrated tears. Think about it – I was literally crying over spilled milk! Sooooo cliché! The news about my cousin losing her baby at the end of the first trimester came about 10 minutes later. Talk about perspective. It made me feel like an ass, but I have always been the one to hold anger and rage inside and let it fester because I’m afraid to let it out. That meltdown, however puerile in the moment, was a great catharsis for me. (I love the word "cathartic" this week!
It makes me think of the movie Hocus Pocus where Sarah Jessica Parker starts chanting in a sing-song voice, "A-MOK, a-MOK, a-MOK, a-MOK, a-MOK!" before getting socked in the gut by Winifred, her witch of a sister. Such innocent fun. ;-P
Well, I had outstanding therapy tonight in the form of the world's most adorablest widdle chubby baby boy wif da CUUUUUUTEST teeny toes....nom nom nom. Man. Babies are therapy like nothing else in the world.