Starting to panic (a little)

Welp. It’s down to the wire! I just packed my clothes, and after a massive debate, removed the scale from my suitcase.

My cousin sent me this picture while I was in class.
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I thought to my self “I love peanut butter (the sugary kind) almost as much as burritos.”

And that’s when the freaking out started. This is huge for me. I have always traveled with my immediate family, always had someone else’s plate I could dump my food on, always someone who could sense a food meltdown coming, usually even before I did and intervene before anyone found out. Yes, this is the reason we absolutely HAD to have new shoes, at midnight, while the rest of the family was eating plumelo around the pool last time we came up.

I’m really scared. Anorexia is about control, not deliberately, but in looking at my eating patterns in relation to situations and events taking place in my life at various times, it’s easy to see that the more out of control I feel at any given time, the less I eat. Eating in front of people is scary. Eating new foods is scary. Eating out is terrifying. Eating anything that I haven’t read a label or looked up on line is almost impossible.

It’s a very short trip. Anyone could go 3 days without food and be just fine. It wouldn’t be a big deal if I did that… Except I’ve been informed that my cousin will kill me if I try.

New things are frightening. That’s how we grow.

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Plus, Dawson and I have missed each other!

Happy little bendy!!!

Just in case I had any reservations about this upcoming trip… My super cuz, just e-mailed me the website to her burrito place (I didn’t ask)!!! I need to know this kind of stuff. Like, really. Eating is hard, eating spontaneously is impossible. Maybe Eventually, in the future, that will change (Bikram doesn’t say “maybe in the future spine will be flat to the floor. He just promises that the impossible is attainable. I can apply that to myself.

Eventually, in the future:
– I can eat spontaneously
– I can throw away the scale
– I feel happy with myself
– I am healthy and normal

Eventually, in the future…

Teenie Butthead

Guess who got in trouble at yoga tonight????

In January, I practiced 31 times in 31 day. But I counted Advanced, workshops, and home practice too.

If February, I decided I needed to take 28 CLASSES in 28 days. Today, I took 4:30, which put me at 25 classes on the 26th day…. I just HAD to stay for the 6:30, even though I was tired. My shoulders decided they were D.O.N.E doing yoga, by the breathing. By half moon, I realized that I was absolutely spent. I skipped 2nd set awkward and all of eagle, busted out some awesome standing head to knee (I am in LOVE with this posture right now!) and standing bow, even took on my nemesis the freaking stick. I LOATHE stick. I skipped triangle. And did most of the floor series. But none of it was for the love of yoga. It was for the love of bones and burning calories.

After class, the teacher was like “what was that!??? Tomorrow please show up prepared. You know how this works, water, electrolytes, food”

I’m negative again today. But not as much. And it was a battle, in the extreme. Small win… Maybe?

O.M.B(ikram)!!!!!

OMG!!!! I’m totally… Well, let me just apologize now in case this comes out all discombobulated!

I’ve had plans since October to drive to meet a friend in New Orleans next weekend. The night I found out about Jarrett, we had a small cyber “spat” via text message, that went something like:
Friend: text. Text. Text.
Me: NOT a good time!!!!
(A few hours pass)
Me: I think I might leave a few hours later.
Friend: maybe I’ll just cancel the trip.
Me: that’s ridiculous, everything is all set up. It’s just a few hours, not a big deal.
Friend: why didn’t you tell me earlier you were changing everything!!!!!!???
Me: because I told you as soon as I knew. Just chill the fuck out, I’m still working on it! (Ok, that wasn’t the nicest thing ever)
Friend: I am bowing out of this trip.

Meh I guess I deserved that, right? The truth is, I hate driving. Gas prices are insane. The thought of going Thursday to Sunday with only 1 yoga scares me. Trying to eat away from home feels practically impossible… Especially with this particular friend, who is very dedicated and having great success with a highly regimented weight loss program, where she can pretty much only eat veggies, string cheese and her packaged shakes and snacks. Eating together was challenging when she came to visit in September, and I was in a MUCH better place food wise at the time. So, I figure the universe is trying to agree with me, and saying that this trip would be more than I can handle, and decide not to let it upset me.

Over the weekend, she did text me to let me know she was still going. I let her know I was still not.

Meanwhile, wayyyy up in the cold Northeast, my yoga-lovin’ cousins were planning a weekend road trip to nationals, and launched a massive text campaign trying to persuade me to drive up. It wasn’t gonna happen… For all the same reasons I didn’t want to drive 8 hours to New Orleans, I definitely didn’t want to drive 16 hours to New York, and plane tickets were absolutely not feasible- I checked.

This morning, I logged into my work e-mail, and was greeted by PLANE TICKETS TO NEW YORK!!!!!! They had frequent flier points that they weren’t using, and set the whole thing up for me!!!!! I am like… Beside myself!!!!

They are actually my mother’s first cousins (my first cousins once removed?) and I haven’t seen them in FOREVER!!!! I’m excited just to see and spend time with them, the fact that they love yoga just as much as me, and want to go watch the competition is just a bonus! One of my cousins is a nurse, and did some clinicals on an ED unit. She knows that I am anorexic, and has been an extremely positive and supportive voice in my efforts to get better. She is fully aware of my serious love of burritos and has already checked the hours of her favorite burrito joint. I think I will be able to have a more successful travel experience with her, than the other friend.

The little girl from daycare has been heavy on my mind today and inadvertently served as quite the inspiration

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Albeit, a less than positive one. Excellent, I’m now swapping starvation strategies with a kindergartner. Anorexia is a strange beast.

Interestingly, however I busted out some rockin’ back-to-back doubles tonight!!!! Like the absolute best classes I’ve had since reaching a safe weight. I was really strong and happy, balanced, stable and flexible. It felt FREAKING AMAZING!!!

During the second class, the teacher had me get on the podium and do standing-head-to-knee!!! I still don’t exactly come out with control, but I do, consistently reach the final expression, and tonight, I happened to be the only person in the room who could.

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Standing-head-to-knee (Andrea’s, not mine)

After the first class, I was talking to a, very experienced, regular with a beautiful practice, and she called me “superstar” then said “you are so skinny, I hate you.” (Thanks, lady, I hate myself too) I told her not to, that I have a hard time too.

After the second class, 4 more people, at different times, came up to me and called me “superstar” too. I don’t particularly care for that kind of attention, and in case they haven’t noticed, our studio is sending FOUR competitors to nationals, and I am not one of them!!! I think everyone who shows up for class and tries is a “superstar”. This yoga is no cake walk, I admire anyone who sticks with it.

Baby Sitting

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My kids today, from the left, ages 5, 5 and almost 7.
The tiny one made me cry this morning. She walked in, told me exactly how many calories she’d eaten for breakfast, that she ran laps around the field instead of playing everyday at recess. Then she freaked out, cried and was like “I have to MOVE!!!” I told her she did NOT need to, and that I would not rearrange so she could run laps inside the room. So she did push-ups until I picked her up and held her in my lap in front of the TV. She struggled against me, cried and asked if she could go workout with the moms. She’s SIX!!!!!! It killed me!

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Some Baby Bows, just because they are really cute (I was not pretending to be a yoga teacher. They did that all by themselves).

Reflecting

I went home today. I was there for just 6 hours. But in that very short time, I attended Jarrett’s memorial, where I met his son, baby Jordan, hugged his mom and sisters. Saw a bunch of our former teachers and friends’ parents. Met John’s patents. Had dinner with my brother. Ran into an old friend, randomly. Went to visit my Jordan.

And between it all, my mom talked to me. She talked, and talked, and talked. She told me all of the things that she’s kept to herself for the past 14 years. About watching Jordan’s siblings, my brother and myself carry death’s heavy burden from our youth into adulthood. She talked about watching my dad die. About the night John died. And all of the plans and amazing things they were putting into action through their not-for-profit corporation. She talked about the near simultaneous deaths of Jordan and my dad 14 years ago. Then John and Jarrett this week.

She spoke with such openness, and honesty. I wish she’d been brave enough to do that from the start. I think, even with so much new loss and sadness, we are all finding strength and healing within each other.

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Jarrett and Jordan AKA “Big Dog” and “Little Dog”

Today, when their mom saw me, she shouted my name across the room and pushed through the crowd to reach me. She burst into tears before getting my whole name out, then grabbed me and held on tight for a long time.
“I want you to meet the baby.” She said and started to let go. “This is Jo…” She started, but her voice caught, the name got stuck in her throat and she pulled me back in and clung to me. “It’s Jarrett’s son. He named his son Jordan. This is baby Jordan.” She cried into my hair. I cried against her chest. And we held onto each other as we watched my mom sit down on the floor, reach out to him and say “Hi. Jordan. I’ve loved your family for a very long time, can I get some fist?” He looked away. “Jordan. Jordan.” My mom whispered. “Jordan. Jordan. Jordan.” His grandma whispered more to me, than him. And we cried some more, forever, powerfully connected through the loss of her son 14 years ago.

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On my way back towards home, I stopped here, to sit for a bit under Jordan’s tree, bend down and press my hands against that sidewalk where he died, and look out at the athletic field named in his memory.

It was a difficult but healing day. Tomorrow I will release all if the emotion in the hot room.