Biting The Bullet

In my life thus far, I can firmly say that moderation and I do not mix. I have previously mentioned my tendency to be very all-or-nothing in my thinking – and my behaviour is generally not that different. When I was told to reduce wheat (I was on a wheat free diet for four years) and, later, caffeine (I was caffeine free for just over a year) the easiest thing for me to do was to abstain completely. One cup of coffee led to another and on slice of pizza led to six. A diet was a starve, an overeat was a 2 day binge and a workout session lasted until over 600 calories were burnt and in the end, this led to my own little brand of non-purging bulimia.

This attitude has its bright sides – I have a strong work ethic and tend to persist vigilantly with a task until I am satisfied it is of a high standard – but it means that the whole “a little everyday” motto doesn’t work for me.

I wrote in my resolutions that I wanted to forget fear. This initially came from the realisation that I tend to insult and mock the people I am starting to get close to – and that I do this as a defence mechanism – that I am afraid of being abandoned. When I got a-thinking, I realised another thing – I had long known that sugar is my downfall when it comes to food issues, but until now I had been too afraid to let this comfort go. Now I think I might just be able to kick the sweet tooth for good.

Sugar affects the same part of the brain as opiates do and in certain individuals can lead to an addiction of sorts. These people tend to be hyperglycaemic (blood sugar spikes,) be unable to stop eating once started and have poor sleep and sore throats on a regular basis. Ding ding ding, guess who has all three?

Today is the first time in over 6 years that I have gone 24 hours without eating anything containing sugar. My head hurts, I am a bit tired and lord knows that I may be an utter gowl for the next few days… But I have to do this if I am going to kick compulsive overeating. I gave up purging, I can give up sugar.

I just need to get my head in the game.

 

KateNap: Now Coming Live From The University of Limerick

I am in college again. Actually, I have been in college a week now. What the what?! I get to do Sciencey things like anatomy and biochemistry and practical stuff like peri-operative care and health psychology. But more importantly, UL is letting me live my life.

Lovely things include: Forum Soc (of which I am treasurer.) Costies. Foam Party on Monday. Many other parties during Fresher’s week. Making friends in my course. Making friends in other course. Shy dates in Starbucks. Running in a very pretty location. Being so busy that I often forget that I ever had something as annoying as an eating disorder. Winning the ultimate Twister championship (it may have helped that I was sober…)

I woke up today with a smile on my face. I fucking love my life.

Progress Is Progress… Even temporarily

I promise I have a lovely non-ED themed post for tomorrow. Full of exuberance and music. And you know you love the crazy really.

The title stems from the fact that any day I feel like I am improving, I usually fall back into a bad way after two or three days and the family is exposed to a horrible woe-is-me little girl type. Fun for all. But today is good. And why not list these good things, so that, on days where I feel like absolute KayRap, I can read this and remember there are days that are good and it is possible to get out of that deep dark hole.

There was a time, of course, before I realised calories existed. I was a thin child (everyone in my family is naturally thin) and never gained a pound, regardless of how much I ate. And I loved sweets, as all kids do. But I loved trying new foods, I ate my breakfast every morning (Ready Brek usually – child porridge?) and I loved a good dinner. But during this joyful childhood, there was one significant difference – I didn’t worry when or what I was going to eat next, I didn’t stress about the possible consequences of that donut and most importantly, I stopped when I was full. In any case, puberty takes its toll and we come back to today. I suppose in the long term, the ideal solution for most of life’s problems is to approach it from a child’s point of view. [Really, I just want an excuse to watch more kid's movies. Toy Story 3 anyone?]

Back to progress:

• I am wearing my size 10 jeans again. And I do not feel bad about it. They are nice jeans damn it.
• I went shopping and bought six items of clothing. I really hate changing rooms and I am terrible at shopping for anything besides sports clothes without my sister to guide the way. This is huge.
• I had a Galaxy bar because I felt my blood sugars dropping. And I don’t feel guilty. Or like embarking on binge.
• I am really liking my new job. Which is giving me more confidence in everything Plus it gets me up and out every morning.

Oh the optimism is pouring out of me. But that may have something to do with the Colin Firth movie I rented. Mmmmhmmm.

 

Kicking My Asana

Sometimes I think I am just going to have a mental break. Bah.

But rather than bore you with the negative details, I’ll bore you with the equally uninteresting, yet remarkably more positive, aspects of the day.

1. I sang Summertime and Nothing Compares To You in the bar tonight. The bar was quiet but I didn’t care. Because I felt I did good. I kind of wanted to cry during Nothing Compares. But in a good “I am an artiste” sort of way. (How sad.)
2. In the process of practicing for the aforementioned singing, me and my Steve got to play with the P.A, sing extremely loudly, discuss choral music and the accompaniments of Fauré and finally, laugh until it was painful at a website called Damn You AutoCorrect. (Google it. One o clock in the morning is no time to be looking for links.)
3. I was doing yoga at 8 this morning and my Crow and Half Moon Pose are coming along nicely so in a fit of confidence, instead of skipping Tripod Headstand, I decided to fuck it and go for it. Before promptly falling on my ass. The laughing hysterically at myself. This may have been the highlight of my day. (I am an odd person, no need to point it out.) Oh yoga, you teach me so much about life…

None of this goodness makes me feel any more at ease or make my teeth push against each other any bit less. But I will repeat, like a Mantra: Shit happens. This will end. Or perhaps something more beautifully eloquent when I have some sleep in me. Until then, if I get too twitchy and weird, just hit me with a wet sponge, or something of that nature. Getting the message across but hopefully avoiding any internal haemoragging.

Tomorrow Always Has The Possibility To Be Better

It is all too easy to think that everything is without point sometimes. On days when you are stuck in a hole, there is no light, no future, nothing. But then you sleep on it and the next day is a good one.

Today, I had a good day.

I ran 8 miles (and got some funny looks as I ate a Frusli bar on the treadmill. But I was hungry damn it.) And between the walk home from gym and the walk home from singing, I covered an extra 3 miles walking.

I went back to singing! ^_^ The Teaching Dip. is well underway.

I had epic food, including Chocolate Banana Protein Oats, Turkey and Cheese Omelette and Pork Steak Casserole. The clincher though was the Spelt and Pumpkin Seed bread that Paul (my Dad’s friend) kindly dropped off for no particular reason. Bless.

I was once again reminded of how amazing my friends are. Especially Megan, my sister from another mister. I love you, that is all.

Just a quick update to remind ye all that I am not all doom and gloom. Well, not all the time.

There’s A Fine Line Between Explanation And Excuse

I’m a terrible blogger. My blog views are down to what I can only assume is Megan checking to see if I have made good on writing a post of substance. So here it goes. An update and a why.

I’ve been hinting very subtly at a recent upheaval but it more or less goes like this:

• I dropped out of college
• I live in Limerick again
• I am not perfectly well but I am aiming for improvement

At the moment, life is a heady mix of job seeking, music, attempts to sustain my French and Irish and a bumpy, up and down road of getting better.

I figure optimism is my best option so I’m trying to keep my bitching to a minimum. In keeping with this attitude, good things include:

• My epic family and their amazing support. Mom, especially, I don’t what I would do without you.
• My brief experience of teaching LC Music means I finally know what I want to do in life. And for sure this time. Mary I, get ready for me.
• My weekly X Factor night with Megan. Makes my week. And I am not just saying that. Plus, I can’t remember the last time the fam embraced one of my friends so wholeheartedly. Well done, Meg
• Going back to Louise to do my Singing Teaching Dip and going back to choir with Maire and being part of something again.

So its not all doom and gloom and things are picking up. But I don’t want to look back years from now and and hate the fact that I have associated myself with bad stuff on the internet.

Its been fun kids. So this isn’t goodbye.

But its an Au Revoir.

Things I Have Learnt In The Past Week

The summer so far is looking bright. In sunshine and events. In spite of the Leaving Cert (which is going reasonably well.) And it is a week of  knowledge and tears and smiles. Which has led to me to these great realisations:

• Eating for two hours without pause the night before your two most information heavy exams is not a good idea. You will be sick that night. And during the exam. And the first time apparently is not enough to teach naive little Kate.
• Being wheat free is a skank when you are getting lunch in a small village shop. A flake and an apple is not enough to sustain you through a whole Irish Paper 1 plus Cluastuiscint.
• Predictions can be good and bad. I am not an Eavan Boland victim fortunately. And my feeling that Uirchill would come up paid off. Yert.
• The best way to get a good grade in Honours Maths is to go in ridiculously relaxed. And not clomp back through the hall in a fit of self consciousness because everyone is giving you dirty looks. (I left both papers at leasst 40 minutes early. Even the examiner thought I was a freak.)
• Shexy is one of the searches to my blog
• Also, blogging is far more effort than I have in me atm so I continue in my sporatic rambling.
• I love my sister. Happy Birthday dear
• Sometimes, all it takes is a 5 minute phone call to someone before Irish Paper 2 to allow you enough scope to not have a panic attack. And for everything to go reasonably well

Quotes of the summer so far:

• I’ll have the gingers, you have the twins and Helena will adopt the chinese baby that will eventually own this restaurant.
• What’s an innuendo? *laughter* No, seriously. What’s an innuendo?
• Ugh, please I don’t want any of that….

Looking On The Bright Side

Outlook is paramount. Two people can look at the same thing and see completely different things. The same person can look at the same things at different times of the day and see completely different things. I dither and change between optimism and pessimism about six times a day.

The last twenty four hours have been the former. Ok, yes some days are completely ass, but even those horrible days can end up having a good ending. Maybe it takes some time, but hindsight allows for beautiful realisations. The easiest example I can think of is my wheat intolerance. Everyone asks “What do you eat?” and “That must be so hard!” And yeah, at the start it was, and I was upset because I couldn’t have toast anymore. But think of all the good things being wheat free led to: weight loss, an appreciation for food and better health. Besides, I’m not sick every damn day of the week. So, yay!

Even times when all you can see is the dark, dreary situation you’ve gotten yourself caught in, it can turn out to be one of the best learning experiences of your life, or lead to something else happening which turns out to be even better.

Here’s hoping the optimism sticks.

Questioning Coincidence

I had been looking forward to Saturday all week. The plan was: out to the country, night out at the local, sleepover! (It was my friend’s birthday.) Not spectacular, but I hadn’t seen my school peeps in a while (being such the townie) and I hadn’t gone out since grads night (and that barely counts. I was in my uniform. Because I’m cool.) So imagine my disgust, after being pumped all week, at finding out I couldn’t go.

So I stayed at home, sulked and bitched a bit to the family, and went to bed at a reasonable hour, sore and sickened. ’Don’t worry, you weren’t meant to be there,’ says Mam. I spared her the ’no rhyme nor reason’ conversation and went to sleep. 

I awoke Sunday morning to find my sister chock full of news and scandal from the night before. Fighting. Blood. Broken glass. People leaving in terror. Everything a good story needs but not so much when you’re actually there. So Mam was right.

A woman of science, I rarely subscribe to anything illogical or unproven. Sometimes I think it would be amazing to have that kind of blind faith in things. But, no. Beliefs require substance.

And yet, I’m often puzzled by the question of fate or coincidence. Sure, most of the time, there seems to be no underlying point to anything. There is death, natural disaster, destruction, birth, good deeds, love. One look at chaos theory should be enough to show us that any miniscule factor could have changed the outcomes of any event. But then we look again, and we see things which just seem meant to be.

Back in the ancient times (the 70′s,) two sixteen year olds bumped into each other at a charity dance, spent a few hours together and then completely forgot about each other. About a decade later (give or take a few years,) my mom met my dad while they were both working in a factory. One night, while leafing through my dad’s old photos, my mom spotted a picture of a young guy. “Who’s that guy?” she asked. “I danced with him for a night years ago.” My dad said it was himself. “No,” says my mom, “The guy with the long hair and the spots.” And again, my dad confirmed it was him. And so followed nineteen years of marriage. It may just be a testament to how small this city actually is, but considering my mom spent a year in Australia before my parent’s got married and my dad was previously engaged, I like to think, that maybe, just maybe, it was more than just an accident that they ended up together.

Eventually, I’ll probably sabotage my own dream of meant to be. My mind is constantly chopping and changing all of its notions and ideals, sometimes beyond recognition. It’s only inevitable that this evolve and change too. Until then, I’m happy to live with silly ideals.

I hear familiarity breeds contempt…

Sometimes you spend over 24 hours with someone and feel firmly like kicking them in the head, and others you could spend an eternity with and never notice the time pass. In either case, it is easy to find comfort in familiarity. Even in the former, its simple just to forget just how annoyed you were, pick up the phone and make plans with that person for the next day.

The same principle can also be applied to places. Take school, for instance. Whether you love or hate your institute of education, it isn’t difficult to get frustrated, or bored, or to become absolutely sick of a place. Yet no matter what, there is always a sense of comfort returning.

On Monday, I am starting my job as a summer camp leader. This isn’t my first job. I have stories from tills and scars from delis but never have I been entrusted with the responsibilty of entertaining children for three weeks. Don’t get me wrong, I relish the challenge, but still. Nerves.

This is why, when I arrived at training today, I was glad of the sense of ease that surrounded me. Yes, a lot of this attributes to the fact that I was surrounded by friends, aquaintances, teachers. But even the road I’ve neglected for the past month, the feeling of still questioning where I am even though I’ve made this trip hundreds (thousands?) of times, the inevitable breakdown in phone reception the closer you get to the school. All these things make me feel at home.

Before Easter I applied for a job as an animatrice at a French College. Essentially the same job as I’m starting on Monday. But in French. In Galway. With people I’ve never met before. Yes, it would have been a great oppurtunity and yes, my French would have rocked just in time for the big LC. But, man, am I relieved I didn’t get it.

Familiarity may breed contempt, but its worth it.