Dear Calories,

Recently, I have been doing so much better with fueling my body.  Granted, I have my ups and downs but overall my new mantra is to listen to my body, and respond to its signals.  However, I find myself still often checking calorie contents, and choosing foods based on this rather than personal preference.  A few days ago, I was in the grocery store trying to choose a pack of granola bars when I started really thinking about calories as almost a separate entity entirely.  Why do I fret so much about the granola bar that is only 30 calories higher? Why does that make me so nervous? If you think about it, calories are just trying to give you the energy you need to sustain you through your day.  It’s almost sad how they are victimized, and made out to be the enemy. So here, I have a letter to “Calories” to try and mend our mangled relationship.

Dear Calories,

Thank you so much for giving me the energy I need to get through the day, and to be the best version of myself.  I am so sorry that I made you the enemy for so long, and tried to minimize you. I will admit that there are times when I still do this – but I am really trying to find the value in you.  Because truthfully, you have made me feel so much better these past couple of months. Though I fought you at first, now I am grateful for your support. I truly couldn’t have done it without you.

Thank you for fueling my brain and allowing me to think properly and focus intently.  I now see that you are an absolute necessity to reaching my full intellectual capacity.  Thank you for giving me the energy to spend time with the people that I love. You have made me me again, and I have to express my gratitude to you for that.  Thank you for giving me back my life, I didn’t realize how much I had missed it.

I hope we can maintain this good relationship, I hope that I will always regard you as friend rather than foe (or try to as best I can).  All I know is, I am not planning on leaving you anytime soon. There are truly no substitutes for you – trust me, I tried.

With as much love as I can muster,

Georgia

Let’s not take life so seriously

Sometimes, all we need is a reminder to not take life so seriously.

A lot of my time is spent contemplating my reason for existence.  What was I put on this earth to do and how can I help others?  How can I prevent other people from falling into the same eating disorder trap that I did?  How can I reach out to others who are struggling before it is too late?

And the questions that plague me don’t stop there.  How can I turn my career into something rewarding and fulfilling?  How can I feel like in my occupation, I am making a difference?  How can I put my education to good use?

Every time I hear a conversation about the newest weight less trend or diet fad I feel an urgency.  An urgency to stop these thoughts and this mindset from continuing to infiltrate our society.  A desperate desire to tell people that it is okay to eat, your hunger is okay, more than okay.

I get a flashback to the person I was a couple of years ago, so susceptible to these weight less messages, and so unfairly mad at myself for my normal hunger cues.  And then I just get sad.  Sad because I don’t want anyone else to go through that, sad because I picture another little girl or boy, believing these messages as wholeheartedly as I did.

Believing that yes, they could subsist on just an apple.  Believing that yes, working out for that long is normal and “healthy.”  Believing that yes, they need to change their body because as it is currently is not okay.  And I just cannot stand to sit around idly as this happens.

Thus, these contemplations spring me into action.  And although they are positive and help me to stay motivated, at times they can inhibit me from living in the moment.  Sometimes, I find myself worked up into a frenzied panic because I am not accomplishing all that I want to be at this very moment.

With all this thought about the future and what could and should be, I need a reminder to just live.  A reminder that the present is here and important and I cannot spend my entire existence future tripping and contemplating.  I strongly believe that what is meant to happen will happen. Thus, if I keep my will to not only recovery but also to help others recover, then I will eventually make a difference.

I always thought the saying “If I help one person then it will all be worth it” was rather cliché.  Wouldn’t you want to help as many people as possible?  But then I thought about it.  If I helped one person to stay out of the depths of an eating disorder, to keep a healthy relationship with food and exercise, to always love themselves, I would feel so incredibly fulfilled.  Just to think that one person escaped those hardships would truly be enough for me.  And that is the sole reason of why I keep writing.

Mornings

Mornings are by far my favorite time of the day.  I love waking up before everyone else and enjoying a cup of coffee in the silence of a new day.  The morning is when I leave time for myself to actually sit down and rest. It is the time when my head is the clearest and I am able to plan for the coming day.  The morning is always an opportune time for me to get my schoolwork done and finish all my studying. Those who know me know that by the time seven PM rolls around I am getting ready for bed and am already winding down.

Because I know that mornings are the best time for me, I have been trying to use this time to my advantage.  Recently I have been adjusting my morning routine to better align with my recovery goals. I have found that starting the day off on the right foot has made all the difference in keeping my day recovery focused.

Regardless of what has happened the day prior, I try to start fresh the next day and that begins with something I used to fear: breakfast.  Now, it is no longer a cup of black coffee that I enjoy in the morning but also a breakfast to go along with it. I have integrated this meal into my morning routine, so the idea is no longer so intimidating and daunting.  Granted, it remains a meal that holds power over me, as the idea of skipping it and going along with my day is quite tempting. However, with the help of my parents I have found I can manage it.

And the craziest thing has happened, breakfast is starting to become my new normal.  Starting my day off each morning with the meal has normalized it slightly, so that by the time I start college I hope that it will become something near second nature.  The more I repeat this ritualistic routine the more it becomes ingrained in my life and with each passing morning the task grows just a little bit easier. I think that breakfast might become the first meal that I can sit back and truly enjoy.  I am waiting for the day when I will wake up and make my meal without the voices popping up in my head. I will choose my authentic preference which could very well range from day to day and morning to morning. But for now, I will relish in the huge progress that I have made thus far.