The thrill is gone

I actually think things in the ED world have gotten better lately, and I can't really explain why. I have no structure to my days, yet I don't feel the urge to meticulously script them in my usual, irrational, obsessive way.

I really don't exercise compulsively anymore. Having a day off from working out used to make me on edge for the whole day, but I now I can actually ENJOY resting. And when I feel like exercising, I do...for as long as feels right. I do not punish myself if I don't work out "hard enough" or "long enough"--I actually feel pride knowing I am being good to my body!

My eating has also gotten better--inexplicably. I am trying to do something a little different every day, whether it's eating a different thing, or even just eating a different combination of things at different times of the day (I used to have a tolerance of zero-variance). And, guess what--I feel better! My stomach hasn't been upset lately, and I have more energy. I think this is the first time in my life since having had anorexia that "feeling good" is a motivating factor.

So, I have been trying to figure out why I have gotten less rigid about my routines since the grad school failure happened. My best guess is that when my carefully- crafted world fell apart, I saw that my routines offered no protection against chaos. The appearance of safety was shattered. I can do things the exact same way every day, or I can be completely spontaneous, but things like what I eat do not affect the big picture of my life. I think I am almost relieved (almost) that things didn't work out, just so I could prove to myself that rigidity and routine are not necessary in living a productive life. I will definitely be thinking more about this. Yay for unforeseen blessings!

Compartmentalizing myself

Why is it that people with anorexia tend to compartmentalize their lives--even down to facets of their identity? In my own life, my primary identities include the "Girlfriend Emma," the (former) "School Emma," and the "Anorexic Emma." If I had a job right now, there would most definitely be an "Employee Emma."

I work hard to keep the anorexic Emma concealed and safety quarantined from the others. In areas of my life where I excel, I don't want anyone to know about my anorexia and risk tarnishing my "perfect" image. Yet, when it comes to non-anorexic parts of my life, it's not that I won't integrate them; it's that I can't.

I just have a thing about clear and concise lines of demarcation. I like feeling like I'm moving from one precise boundary to the next. For instance, School Emma was very predictable. She would always get to her classes a little bit early, sit near the front of the room, and take good notes. She would begin studying for her tests a week and a half in advance, and she would always write her papers early. And, you know what? School Emma was successful. No parts of her life--even anorexia--overlapped sloppily with her school self.

Yes, now that I think of it, mixing identities is sloppy...and messy and careless. I never liked the kids who would come to class reeking of another part of their lives (ahem, drinking and partying). But, seriously, why can't everyone keep their lives cleanly together? It just seems right and proper. There is just a proper time and place for every demeanor.

I am taking a stand against concealing the Anorexic Emma, however. I realize that part of recovery is getting over feelings of shame and covertness and tugging your anorexia security blanket from your tightly-closed fists. By writing this blog, I am taking away the secretive aspect of the disorder and allowing Anorexic Emma to mingle with the crowd.

Isolation

I hate everything that anorexia has done to my life, but my least favorite outcome of the disorder has to be my isolation. When anorexia first began to unfold at age 17, I found myself trying to get out of a lot of activities and functions that involved food. The whole "senior year of high school" thing was pretty much shot. I didn't even get my yearbook signed that year because the signing was in conjunction with a cookout. At my class's senior dinner (a mandatory gathering of students, parents, and faculty), I got so upset over having food on my plate that I didn't want to eat that, at one point, my father just reached over and put the lasagna on his own plate. Predictably, I began to lose the few friends I even had, due to the fact that it was difficult for me to leave my house and risk upsetting my food routines.

During college, I had even fewer friends than in high school. Every time someone would invite me to do something (and trust me, EVERY activity involves food in some way), the anxiety and panic would set in as a tried to weigh the food-fear factor against the possibility of actually being with people. Rarely did I agree to do anything. I battled with myself mightily, but I just could not get over the fear of the unknown (when, where, and what will I eat?). People gave up on me, of course, and I just wrapped myself up in my disorder and my succession of boyfriends.

Now, I am out of college, unfortunately not headed for more school (at the moment, at least), and without a way to really meet people. I am so much more willing to take chances with eating and even feel open to some spontaneity, but I am living in my own little bubble of a world. Shouldn't there be an eHarmony for making friends?

Now what?

I haven't posted in a while because I have been extremely upset. As it turns out, I did not get into grad school. I got really close to being accepted to UCLA, but, ultimately, I didn't have enough "experience." Funny, because I am not sure how to get it now.

I have spent the last two weeks trying to figure out what to do. I need a place to live, a job, and at least a whit of direction. I can't even think about school right now; I'm too burned out by academia. My self-identity, which has always rested heavily on my academic accomplishment, has taken a severe beating. I am realizing that because I was so focused on getting through school as perfectly as possible, I have lost every single hobby and extracurricular interest I ever had. I am somewhat dull these days, to put it nicely. If you asked me what I "do for fun," I would have to politely decline answering.

Every day is a struggle for me right now. The hours just strain slowly by, as I sit here at my laptop in a mental fog. I really feel that I have reached out to everyone I know, and no one knows what to tell me. I think I am one of those worst-scenario cases who makes people cringe and feel grateful it's not them..."Wow, that girl just has nothing left. Everything fell apart for her!"