(the good whistling part starts at 0:40)
I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!
(just in case you forgot!)
Saturday, August 31, 2013
To brighten your day..
The very best song to whistle in the whole wide world: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGqdhD0kMvw
(the good whistling part starts at 0:40)
(the good whistling part starts at 0:40)
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Tilikum
There is a new documentary out now, I hear, called Blackfish. I haven't seen it, but my parents have. Apparently it's a very anti-captivity based movie. And it suggests that the reasons that people have died by whales in captivity is because the whales are enraged by being held captive.
Okay.....
I grew up in the 90s. I saw Free Willy a few times (anyone remember the scene where the kids all step in the cake??) and had my heartstrings tugged by Keiko as Willy. (Speaking of that, why is Keiko not credited on imdb.com as Willy?) When I was in 6th grade, my academic "team" at school was called Orca. I'll admit I have a fondness for the giant mammals.
Orcas have an innocent silliness about their appearance. They often swim slowly and gracefully in their tanks. I've never seen an Orca in the wild. I've never seen them hunt. I've never seen them angry. The idea of capturing whales for entertainment purposes makes my blood simmer just a bit. To be honest, it's not something I've given a whole lot of thought to. Animals need protection and all that but.... you don't see people getting all bent out of shape about people walking dogs on leashes. They're captive too! They're also fed, watered, exercised and loved daily. So are these Orcas. Does that make it better? I don't know.
There's a huge Orca at SeaWorld. He weighs 12,000 lb (5400 kg) and is 22 and a half feet long. His name is Tilikum. He is about 32 or 33 years old now. 30 of those years he has been in captivity. First in British Columbia, Canada, and now in Florida. Since 1991 he has been involved in three deaths. Am I the only one who finds this shocking? THREE people have died in situations involving this whale and he's still being used to entertain people? What is wrong with this picture? If a Pitbull bites a person they are euthanized. (I'm NOT saying euthanize this whale, okay? Don't jump down my throat. I'm saying DON'T euthanize the Pitbull! Just so we are clear.)
In 1991, a trainer named Keltie Byrne at Sealand in BC slipped part of the way into a pool that held Tilikum and 2 other adult female whales. It's a little unclear exactly what happened next; some reports say the whales grabbed her, other reports say she became hypothermic in the water and the whales decided to use her as a toy. Either way, she ended up being a plaything for the whales (we assume) and died. It took Sealand staff hours to retrieve her body.
In 1999, Tilikum was involved in a suspicious death that took place at SeaWorld in Florida. A 27-year-old man's body was found draped over Tilikum's back like a shawl. He was nude. It's unclear whether the whale killed him or not, but his genitalia were missing. It appeared as though they were pulled or bitten off. I don't know much about this but I have to wonder about his mental state. He apparently hid in the park until after it was closed, evaded security and cameras, and managed to get into the Orca tank. Why would you do that? Perhaps he thought he could "Free Willy" (or Tilly in this case). Either way, he met an unfortunate end.
The third death involving this gigantic Orca took place in February 2010. This one was all over the media. For me, this one is different than the other two incidents because many people actually saw Tilikum kill Dawn Brancheau, a senior trainer at SeaWorld. I believe parts of it were caught on film. The initial part of the "attack" happened in front of spectators! Dawn was finishing up a "Dine with Shamu" show and was laying on a "slideout" (a platform in a few inches of water) next to Tilikum's head and mouth. There is some debate about whether she should have been doing this at all, but photographs show other trainers doing similar things with the whale over the past few years, so it's unlikely that she was breaking a hard SeaWorld rule, as some speculate.
Dawn signaled the whale to dive down to a large window to "pose" for a picture with paying customers. For some reason, Tilikum decided to commit murder instead. He grabbed Dawn Brancheau by the ponytail and dragged her, fighting and kicking, down into the water. Customers were quickly ushered out of the area as a siren went off, indicating the need for rescue at G Pool, where Tilikum was performing that day. People rushed to Dawn's aid, slapping the surface of the water, throwing food at the whale, but Tilikum just would not let her go. Finally, the staff corralled Tilikum in another pool with a floor that could raise up, essentially beaching him. They pulled Dawn's lifeless body from the giant mammal's mouth. She was dead. They sent Tilikum back into the water but had to recapture him again as they realized he still had a piece of Dawn's arm in his mouth!
Tilikum returned to performing in 2011. No trainers are allowed in the water with him. No one can give him massages by hand, high-powered hoses must now be used to do that job. His food is apparently flung into his mouth.
Why?
Did this whale commit an egregious crime? Or was he just being a whale? Sure, he's been in captivity for 3o years, but does nurture really outweigh nature? I really don't know. Every other time Tilikum had been instructed to go down to that window for a picture, he had done it. Why did he snap this time? Are whales capable of rational thought like that? Should he be punished? Should we dress him up in a little (okay, giant) suit and tie and send him to court? Should we shackle him and send him to prison? He's already in prison!!!
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. The point is, I'm very confused. I'm not sure whether to be angered that this whale is still performing, or angered that he's being blamed by some for these three deaths (certainly the 2 trainers, if not the other man too.) Here is a link to a video of Tilikum and his grandson, Trua, swimming around in a pool. Hardly looks murderous, eh?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_54kOMsaZCg
sources:
wikipedia
timzimmerman.com
outsideonline.com
Okay.....
I grew up in the 90s. I saw Free Willy a few times (anyone remember the scene where the kids all step in the cake??) and had my heartstrings tugged by Keiko as Willy. (Speaking of that, why is Keiko not credited on imdb.com as Willy?) When I was in 6th grade, my academic "team" at school was called Orca. I'll admit I have a fondness for the giant mammals.
Orcas have an innocent silliness about their appearance. They often swim slowly and gracefully in their tanks. I've never seen an Orca in the wild. I've never seen them hunt. I've never seen them angry. The idea of capturing whales for entertainment purposes makes my blood simmer just a bit. To be honest, it's not something I've given a whole lot of thought to. Animals need protection and all that but.... you don't see people getting all bent out of shape about people walking dogs on leashes. They're captive too! They're also fed, watered, exercised and loved daily. So are these Orcas. Does that make it better? I don't know.
There's a huge Orca at SeaWorld. He weighs 12,000 lb (5400 kg) and is 22 and a half feet long. His name is Tilikum. He is about 32 or 33 years old now. 30 of those years he has been in captivity. First in British Columbia, Canada, and now in Florida. Since 1991 he has been involved in three deaths. Am I the only one who finds this shocking? THREE people have died in situations involving this whale and he's still being used to entertain people? What is wrong with this picture? If a Pitbull bites a person they are euthanized. (I'm NOT saying euthanize this whale, okay? Don't jump down my throat. I'm saying DON'T euthanize the Pitbull! Just so we are clear.)
In 1991, a trainer named Keltie Byrne at Sealand in BC slipped part of the way into a pool that held Tilikum and 2 other adult female whales. It's a little unclear exactly what happened next; some reports say the whales grabbed her, other reports say she became hypothermic in the water and the whales decided to use her as a toy. Either way, she ended up being a plaything for the whales (we assume) and died. It took Sealand staff hours to retrieve her body.
In 1999, Tilikum was involved in a suspicious death that took place at SeaWorld in Florida. A 27-year-old man's body was found draped over Tilikum's back like a shawl. He was nude. It's unclear whether the whale killed him or not, but his genitalia were missing. It appeared as though they were pulled or bitten off. I don't know much about this but I have to wonder about his mental state. He apparently hid in the park until after it was closed, evaded security and cameras, and managed to get into the Orca tank. Why would you do that? Perhaps he thought he could "Free Willy" (or Tilly in this case). Either way, he met an unfortunate end.
The third death involving this gigantic Orca took place in February 2010. This one was all over the media. For me, this one is different than the other two incidents because many people actually saw Tilikum kill Dawn Brancheau, a senior trainer at SeaWorld. I believe parts of it were caught on film. The initial part of the "attack" happened in front of spectators! Dawn was finishing up a "Dine with Shamu" show and was laying on a "slideout" (a platform in a few inches of water) next to Tilikum's head and mouth. There is some debate about whether she should have been doing this at all, but photographs show other trainers doing similar things with the whale over the past few years, so it's unlikely that she was breaking a hard SeaWorld rule, as some speculate.
Dawn signaled the whale to dive down to a large window to "pose" for a picture with paying customers. For some reason, Tilikum decided to commit murder instead. He grabbed Dawn Brancheau by the ponytail and dragged her, fighting and kicking, down into the water. Customers were quickly ushered out of the area as a siren went off, indicating the need for rescue at G Pool, where Tilikum was performing that day. People rushed to Dawn's aid, slapping the surface of the water, throwing food at the whale, but Tilikum just would not let her go. Finally, the staff corralled Tilikum in another pool with a floor that could raise up, essentially beaching him. They pulled Dawn's lifeless body from the giant mammal's mouth. She was dead. They sent Tilikum back into the water but had to recapture him again as they realized he still had a piece of Dawn's arm in his mouth!
Tilikum returned to performing in 2011. No trainers are allowed in the water with him. No one can give him massages by hand, high-powered hoses must now be used to do that job. His food is apparently flung into his mouth.
Why?
Did this whale commit an egregious crime? Or was he just being a whale? Sure, he's been in captivity for 3o years, but does nurture really outweigh nature? I really don't know. Every other time Tilikum had been instructed to go down to that window for a picture, he had done it. Why did he snap this time? Are whales capable of rational thought like that? Should he be punished? Should we dress him up in a little (okay, giant) suit and tie and send him to court? Should we shackle him and send him to prison? He's already in prison!!!
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. The point is, I'm very confused. I'm not sure whether to be angered that this whale is still performing, or angered that he's being blamed by some for these three deaths (certainly the 2 trainers, if not the other man too.) Here is a link to a video of Tilikum and his grandson, Trua, swimming around in a pool. Hardly looks murderous, eh?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_54kOMsaZCg
sources:
wikipedia
timzimmerman.com
outsideonline.com
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Missing You
Dear Grandma,
Is it weird that I write you letters? I hope not. I miss you a lot. Every day I think of you. I hope you get those thought messages. I love you!!
We have a running joke in the family that if you were alive today, you'd "chase me with potatoes." My dad told me how when he first brought my mom home to meet you, you worried because she was thin. He said that you would urge her to eat. He says you'd worry about me if you were here today.
He also told me the story about Grandpa and how he liked his steak basically charred. He said that when you and Grandpa were out here, he took you to Seaside. You went to a restaurant and Grandpa ordered a steak "well-done." He said he took the waiter aside and said, "cook it well-done, cut it in half and cook it again." The waiter brought the steak back and it was completely black. You could have used it as charcoal to write with. Grandpa said it was the best steak he ever had! After that experience, my dad said you would cook Grandpa's steak, but then my mom would cook hers, my dad's and yours. That's so funny! You were such a great mom and wife.
Remember when I was a little kid and you used to play "upsies" with me? You would sit on the couch and I would stand on top of your foot and hold your hands. You'd raise your leg in the air, with me on it, and go "hup!" I would laugh and laugh. I remember that. I also remember when cousin B used to take me "flying down the hallway" in your apartment building before you moved into the nursing home. She would hold me and gallop down the hall going "badoom badoom badoom!" as we went. I thought it was hilarious.
Grandma, if you were alive today, would you be mad that I have an eating disorder? Considering all you went through with the war and being hungry. I hope you understand, wherever you are now, that I don't mean to have this problem. I'm not trying to be disrespectful or thoughtless. I feel guilty about it all the time.
Every day I wish you were still here. But I think you kind of ARE still here! You're in my dad, Aunt E, cousin B, cousin J, and in me. My dad says that I have a lot of similar qualities to you and Grandpa. I take that as a compliment.
I love and miss you. Please come visit me again soon. I will be waiting.
Love,
Me
Is it weird that I write you letters? I hope not. I miss you a lot. Every day I think of you. I hope you get those thought messages. I love you!!
We have a running joke in the family that if you were alive today, you'd "chase me with potatoes." My dad told me how when he first brought my mom home to meet you, you worried because she was thin. He said that you would urge her to eat. He says you'd worry about me if you were here today.
He also told me the story about Grandpa and how he liked his steak basically charred. He said that when you and Grandpa were out here, he took you to Seaside. You went to a restaurant and Grandpa ordered a steak "well-done." He said he took the waiter aside and said, "cook it well-done, cut it in half and cook it again." The waiter brought the steak back and it was completely black. You could have used it as charcoal to write with. Grandpa said it was the best steak he ever had! After that experience, my dad said you would cook Grandpa's steak, but then my mom would cook hers, my dad's and yours. That's so funny! You were such a great mom and wife.
Remember when I was a little kid and you used to play "upsies" with me? You would sit on the couch and I would stand on top of your foot and hold your hands. You'd raise your leg in the air, with me on it, and go "hup!" I would laugh and laugh. I remember that. I also remember when cousin B used to take me "flying down the hallway" in your apartment building before you moved into the nursing home. She would hold me and gallop down the hall going "badoom badoom badoom!" as we went. I thought it was hilarious.
Grandma, if you were alive today, would you be mad that I have an eating disorder? Considering all you went through with the war and being hungry. I hope you understand, wherever you are now, that I don't mean to have this problem. I'm not trying to be disrespectful or thoughtless. I feel guilty about it all the time.
Every day I wish you were still here. But I think you kind of ARE still here! You're in my dad, Aunt E, cousin B, cousin J, and in me. My dad says that I have a lot of similar qualities to you and Grandpa. I take that as a compliment.
I love and miss you. Please come visit me again soon. I will be waiting.
Love,
Me
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Wisdom
My wisdom teeth came out yesterday. Not on their own obviously (oh how I wish) but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The pain is not too bad. It's just kind of a dull ache.
The bigger problem I'm having is nausea. I was nauseated yesterday from the anesthetic. Then that wore off after a while, but then I was nauseated from continually swallowing blood all day. To make matters worse, when I woke up in the middle of the night to dose myself with Advil PM on top of the rest of my meds, I discovered that there was a metric shit ton of snot running down the back of my throat, all mixed up with the blood from my mouth and that I was going to throw up - any second! I woke up Corky, begged him to go downstairs and make me tea while I lay very still trying not to puke.
Thankfully, I made it. Finally went back to sleep and just woke up now (10:07am) and re-dosed on pain meds. Fun fun.
My refrigerator and freezer are stocked with popsicles, yogurts, Superfood, sugar free chocolate pudding and rice pudding, and powerade zero. I have soup in the cupboard. Really all I've been up for eating in the last 24 hours are popsicles and powerade. So far today just powerade. I really feel sick.
Below are 2 pictures from the experience. The first one might make you laugh out loud. The second one is of my actual teeth once they were extracted so beware of that pic if you are grossed out by teeth lol.
The bigger problem I'm having is nausea. I was nauseated yesterday from the anesthetic. Then that wore off after a while, but then I was nauseated from continually swallowing blood all day. To make matters worse, when I woke up in the middle of the night to dose myself with Advil PM on top of the rest of my meds, I discovered that there was a metric shit ton of snot running down the back of my throat, all mixed up with the blood from my mouth and that I was going to throw up - any second! I woke up Corky, begged him to go downstairs and make me tea while I lay very still trying not to puke.
Thankfully, I made it. Finally went back to sleep and just woke up now (10:07am) and re-dosed on pain meds. Fun fun.
My refrigerator and freezer are stocked with popsicles, yogurts, Superfood, sugar free chocolate pudding and rice pudding, and powerade zero. I have soup in the cupboard. Really all I've been up for eating in the last 24 hours are popsicles and powerade. So far today just powerade. I really feel sick.
Below are 2 pictures from the experience. The first one might make you laugh out loud. The second one is of my actual teeth once they were extracted so beware of that pic if you are grossed out by teeth lol.
LOL!
giant teeth oh god
Sunday, August 18, 2013
The Vista - Again!
The haunting sight that met my eyes last January 22nd is something I'll never forget. I'm not quite as traumatized now when the memory pops up (which it occasionally does) but it still sends a small shiver up my spine and causes my heart to beat just a little bit faster.
The thing now that bothers me is that it's been going on for so long and just now is something being done about it. People had been lobbying for a barrier to be put up on the bridge to stop people from jumping (like nearly every other bridge in Portland has) but the historical society or whoever didn't want to do that because it would "mar the vintage beauty of the bridge" or some shit. At least that's what I heard. Personally I think nothing mars it more than a dead body all over the road beneath it, but hey, that's just my opinion and who cares what I think? However, finally they agreed to put up a temporary barrier (after an emergency was declared) and put a permanent one up in about two years. Finally! But it still wasn't soon enough.
I just randomly came across an article dated August 12, 2013 (about a week ago) saying that yet another person jumped to his death from the Vista Bridge. It was on Monday. On Tuesday, they began putting up the temporary barrier. The man who jumped on Monday was the FIFTH person to jump in 2013. That's just awful!!!!
A woman who is part of a volunteer organization to patrol the bridge for jumpers tried to save him, but she was unable. In the article (kgw.com) she said, "it broke my heart." I can imagine. I literally just shuddered in my chair, because I know what the grizzly scene below the majestic bridge looked like. It's an image burned into my brain forever.
I did go under the bridge on Monday, but thankfully I did not encounter this. I know, I know... I should know better than to take that route to my therapist's office but it's the quickest way and I was running late. (Hush, no one need comment on my sanity, thank you!)
Anyway... I'm glad a barrier is finally being put up. It's a damn shame it was too late to save this guy. And everyone else who jumped, too.
The thing now that bothers me is that it's been going on for so long and just now is something being done about it. People had been lobbying for a barrier to be put up on the bridge to stop people from jumping (like nearly every other bridge in Portland has) but the historical society or whoever didn't want to do that because it would "mar the vintage beauty of the bridge" or some shit. At least that's what I heard. Personally I think nothing mars it more than a dead body all over the road beneath it, but hey, that's just my opinion and who cares what I think? However, finally they agreed to put up a temporary barrier (after an emergency was declared) and put a permanent one up in about two years. Finally! But it still wasn't soon enough.
I just randomly came across an article dated August 12, 2013 (about a week ago) saying that yet another person jumped to his death from the Vista Bridge. It was on Monday. On Tuesday, they began putting up the temporary barrier. The man who jumped on Monday was the FIFTH person to jump in 2013. That's just awful!!!!
A woman who is part of a volunteer organization to patrol the bridge for jumpers tried to save him, but she was unable. In the article (kgw.com) she said, "it broke my heart." I can imagine. I literally just shuddered in my chair, because I know what the grizzly scene below the majestic bridge looked like. It's an image burned into my brain forever.
I did go under the bridge on Monday, but thankfully I did not encounter this. I know, I know... I should know better than to take that route to my therapist's office but it's the quickest way and I was running late. (Hush, no one need comment on my sanity, thank you!)
Anyway... I'm glad a barrier is finally being put up. It's a damn shame it was too late to save this guy. And everyone else who jumped, too.
Friday, August 16, 2013
August 16th Picture Dump
Various pictures from the last 2 weeks or so... xo
Life of Pi... Life of Cheesecake... lol
Proud but sad. :( The Lovely Bones
I scared Bijou with the flash. Sorry!!
Caramary... Calamari... :D
Great big snake Nosferatu
My Abby girl <3
Jax is underwhelmed by Stella Artois
Anyone ever play Crash Bandicoot? Yeah this reminds
me of the Ooga Booga guy that would fly
around following Crash.
Poor Jaxxie-Pooh
lol.
SOML.
Show me your teeth! Hand-Gaga.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
EDCP Visit
Here is the overdue post about my visit to Eating Disorder Center of Portland (EDCP). Sorry it's a little late. I needed some time to collect my thoughts. I actually have an appointment with my therapist today, and I'm sure she'll want to talk about it, so this post may actually be premature! But I have a few other things to mention besides talking about my EDCP visit, so at least it won't be pointless!
The short version of the EDCP Visit Story is this: I am not impressed.
To elaborate, I am going to do this like I've done with my dress fitting posts; that is to say, I'm going to write it like a narrative. That's just how I roll. If you don't like that, sorry about it. ;)
My usual go-to method of getting somewhere that I'm unfamiliar with is to put it into my iPhone map app and go from there (or rather, go TO there.) However, that proved unhelpful this time. So I actually ended up having to call my mom using my hands free and get her to look at a map and direct me as I went. After a few missed turns, which was ridiculous because my PMHNP is in a building like 300 feet away from EDCP, I finally made it. I met Alena's brother, G, as he was walking in.
"Where are we supposed to park?" I yelled out the window to him. "All these spots say reserved!"
"I don't know.." he said. "I just parked wherever! Guess I'll ask them."
So I just parked in a reserved spot in an empty row and prayed I wouldn't get towed. (I didn't.)
Once in the lobby, G and I endeavored to find the place. I knew it was Suite 100, but I couldn't see any suite signs. We found an index sign, saying the name of each company housed in that building and which suite they were in. However, there were 2 problems with that: 1) we already knew the suite number but that didn't matter because 2) there was no suite 100 listed! Finally I found it around a corner, totally unmarked. Thanks guys, super helpful there!
We went in and a young woman in a blue dress and boots that didn't match at all came up and said, "Hi! You must be Kate! I'm M, the dietician."
Okay, pause a second. I hate that. Why "must" I be Kate? How does she know I'm not someone else? Honestly! Unless my therapist tipped her off to what I look like, how does she know who I am? How does she know some other person, perhaps in outpatient, doesn't have an appointment that same day or something? I could be anybody! But I digress.
The main reason I was at EDCP on Tuesday was to meet the dietician and talk to her about the mealplan. I am definitely not cool with mealplans that don't involve exchanges. My awful experience in treatment involved a mealplan where everyone ate basically the same thing. That doesn't work for me for a few reasons. First of all, everyone's bodies are different, outside and inside. I don't want to eat the same number of calories as a 5'8" woman eats! That's ridiculous! I'm 5'4"! The calorie numbers need to be more individualized for me to feel comfortable. I may or may not have mentioned this before, but this was my main concern. The other reason this doesn't work for me is because it usually means there are limited choices and I hate that. Not that I'm the queen of variety anyway, but I like to have my options.
Anyway, in the hall at EDCP, I shook the dietician's hand, introduced G, and she lead us into a small conference room to talk. To make a (ridiculously) long story short, here is what happened: I asked vague-ish questions, she gave super vague responses. I asked slightly more direct questions, she talked in circles, just as vague as before. I came right out and asked "what do people eat here?" She talked in more circles, confusing G and me as to where she was going with this.
Then she said a most horrendous thing: "Periodically I bring in surprise snacks for everyone."
.... WHAT did you SAY????? I slowly snuck my eyes to the right to look at G and see if he was having a reaction to that statement. Thankfully, he was! His eyes were wide. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that surprise snacks are a scary idea for an anorexic. I didn't think it was her best move to tell me that at this point.
I must have had an awful look on my face because she quickly tried to back track, saying things like "well, sometimes they're optional..." But that really just made it worse. I was already not feeling overwhelmingly great about this place but that very nearly sealed it for me. But, "keep an open mind," I reminded myself, and tried to get past it.
The other thing I was displeased with was that they do meal outings. Actually, meal outings are not a problem for me. The problem was that they do meal outings for lunch. I hate lunch. I hate the word lunch. I hate everything about lunch. I don't "go out for lunch." I just don't do it. So that was kind of sucky.
One good thing I'll say is that they give patients the option to "boost out" of stuff. So like if you can't deal with the meal outing (like me) then you can "boost out of it" which means you don't eat at the meal outing (or don't eat everything you're supposed to) and then make up for it back at clinic. Some people boost with ensure, some boost with nutrition bars, sometimes even with PB&J. They do really try to keep Ensure from being a punishment, which I thought was really good.
The biggest problem I had was their "you drive the bus" philosophy. I need more structure! One thing that sets this program aside from any other day treatment I've ever been in is that they have treatment on the weekends. Which would actually be really good for me because I don't believe I've ever had a weekend without symptoms ANY time I've been in treatment. If I did have any, there were so few of them that I can't remember them. On the other hand, this treatment literally interferes with EVERY SINGLE Zumba class I teach.
After sorta-kinda answering my questions without actually divulging any real information, M took G and me on a tour of the facility. My therapist H had told me that nobody I knew from group was in EDCP right now, although many of her clients are there (hmm....) But she was wrong. There was one girl. And it was awkward. She knew me, I knew her, but neither of us really wanted to wave at one another or anything. It was just very awkward. In addition, the other therapist who ran group with H works at EDCP. But I knew that already, and that's no problem for me. I like her.
Anyway, G asked M if there were any testimonials we could read. M answered that question true to form, meaning she didn't really answer it. With that unsatisfying answer, we thanked M for her time and left.
In the parking lot, G and I spoke for about an hour. He seemed to agree with me on most of my assessments of EDCP. Not horrible, not great.
My general opinion is that I'm too sick for EDCP. They want more independence than I feel I can muster. I almost need to be bossed around. They don't do that. Everything is "we encourage you to.... [insert verb here]." Honestly, my eating disorder is so stubborn that encouragement just isn't going to cut it.
Another thought is that I've tried a few times to recover without Zumba. Meaning I have to stop doing Zumba temporarily. That hasn't worked yet, and I'm not sure it will. I think I need to try to recover WITH Zumba. That might put a dent in people's "weight restoration" plans for me, but frankly I need to keep my sanity. That's not a fully formed thought yet but I'm working on it.
So that's that. In other news, I felt horrible the day before yesterday and yesterday. Tired, weak, out of breath, headachy. I taught THREE Zumba classes yesterday. I did not think I was going to survive, but somehow I did. I thought I'd pass the fuck out last night and sleep like the dead until 7:30 this morning when I had to get up to sub for my friend N at 8:00am (which by the way I think is a STUPID time to do Zumba!) But sadly that was not the reality. I barely slept for some reason. So this morning I taught Zumba with my eyes half open, downed a Monster Zero as soon as I got home, and have been wired with caffeine ever since.
Should be an interesting day!
The short version of the EDCP Visit Story is this: I am not impressed.
To elaborate, I am going to do this like I've done with my dress fitting posts; that is to say, I'm going to write it like a narrative. That's just how I roll. If you don't like that, sorry about it. ;)
My usual go-to method of getting somewhere that I'm unfamiliar with is to put it into my iPhone map app and go from there (or rather, go TO there.) However, that proved unhelpful this time. So I actually ended up having to call my mom using my hands free and get her to look at a map and direct me as I went. After a few missed turns, which was ridiculous because my PMHNP is in a building like 300 feet away from EDCP, I finally made it. I met Alena's brother, G, as he was walking in.
"Where are we supposed to park?" I yelled out the window to him. "All these spots say reserved!"
"I don't know.." he said. "I just parked wherever! Guess I'll ask them."
So I just parked in a reserved spot in an empty row and prayed I wouldn't get towed. (I didn't.)
Once in the lobby, G and I endeavored to find the place. I knew it was Suite 100, but I couldn't see any suite signs. We found an index sign, saying the name of each company housed in that building and which suite they were in. However, there were 2 problems with that: 1) we already knew the suite number but that didn't matter because 2) there was no suite 100 listed! Finally I found it around a corner, totally unmarked. Thanks guys, super helpful there!
We went in and a young woman in a blue dress and boots that didn't match at all came up and said, "Hi! You must be Kate! I'm M, the dietician."
Okay, pause a second. I hate that. Why "must" I be Kate? How does she know I'm not someone else? Honestly! Unless my therapist tipped her off to what I look like, how does she know who I am? How does she know some other person, perhaps in outpatient, doesn't have an appointment that same day or something? I could be anybody! But I digress.
The main reason I was at EDCP on Tuesday was to meet the dietician and talk to her about the mealplan. I am definitely not cool with mealplans that don't involve exchanges. My awful experience in treatment involved a mealplan where everyone ate basically the same thing. That doesn't work for me for a few reasons. First of all, everyone's bodies are different, outside and inside. I don't want to eat the same number of calories as a 5'8" woman eats! That's ridiculous! I'm 5'4"! The calorie numbers need to be more individualized for me to feel comfortable. I may or may not have mentioned this before, but this was my main concern. The other reason this doesn't work for me is because it usually means there are limited choices and I hate that. Not that I'm the queen of variety anyway, but I like to have my options.
Anyway, in the hall at EDCP, I shook the dietician's hand, introduced G, and she lead us into a small conference room to talk. To make a (ridiculously) long story short, here is what happened: I asked vague-ish questions, she gave super vague responses. I asked slightly more direct questions, she talked in circles, just as vague as before. I came right out and asked "what do people eat here?" She talked in more circles, confusing G and me as to where she was going with this.
Then she said a most horrendous thing: "Periodically I bring in surprise snacks for everyone."
.... WHAT did you SAY????? I slowly snuck my eyes to the right to look at G and see if he was having a reaction to that statement. Thankfully, he was! His eyes were wide. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that surprise snacks are a scary idea for an anorexic. I didn't think it was her best move to tell me that at this point.
I must have had an awful look on my face because she quickly tried to back track, saying things like "well, sometimes they're optional..." But that really just made it worse. I was already not feeling overwhelmingly great about this place but that very nearly sealed it for me. But, "keep an open mind," I reminded myself, and tried to get past it.
The other thing I was displeased with was that they do meal outings. Actually, meal outings are not a problem for me. The problem was that they do meal outings for lunch. I hate lunch. I hate the word lunch. I hate everything about lunch. I don't "go out for lunch." I just don't do it. So that was kind of sucky.
One good thing I'll say is that they give patients the option to "boost out" of stuff. So like if you can't deal with the meal outing (like me) then you can "boost out of it" which means you don't eat at the meal outing (or don't eat everything you're supposed to) and then make up for it back at clinic. Some people boost with ensure, some boost with nutrition bars, sometimes even with PB&J. They do really try to keep Ensure from being a punishment, which I thought was really good.
The biggest problem I had was their "you drive the bus" philosophy. I need more structure! One thing that sets this program aside from any other day treatment I've ever been in is that they have treatment on the weekends. Which would actually be really good for me because I don't believe I've ever had a weekend without symptoms ANY time I've been in treatment. If I did have any, there were so few of them that I can't remember them. On the other hand, this treatment literally interferes with EVERY SINGLE Zumba class I teach.
After sorta-kinda answering my questions without actually divulging any real information, M took G and me on a tour of the facility. My therapist H had told me that nobody I knew from group was in EDCP right now, although many of her clients are there (hmm....) But she was wrong. There was one girl. And it was awkward. She knew me, I knew her, but neither of us really wanted to wave at one another or anything. It was just very awkward. In addition, the other therapist who ran group with H works at EDCP. But I knew that already, and that's no problem for me. I like her.
Anyway, G asked M if there were any testimonials we could read. M answered that question true to form, meaning she didn't really answer it. With that unsatisfying answer, we thanked M for her time and left.
In the parking lot, G and I spoke for about an hour. He seemed to agree with me on most of my assessments of EDCP. Not horrible, not great.
My general opinion is that I'm too sick for EDCP. They want more independence than I feel I can muster. I almost need to be bossed around. They don't do that. Everything is "we encourage you to.... [insert verb here]." Honestly, my eating disorder is so stubborn that encouragement just isn't going to cut it.
Another thought is that I've tried a few times to recover without Zumba. Meaning I have to stop doing Zumba temporarily. That hasn't worked yet, and I'm not sure it will. I think I need to try to recover WITH Zumba. That might put a dent in people's "weight restoration" plans for me, but frankly I need to keep my sanity. That's not a fully formed thought yet but I'm working on it.
So that's that. In other news, I felt horrible the day before yesterday and yesterday. Tired, weak, out of breath, headachy. I taught THREE Zumba classes yesterday. I did not think I was going to survive, but somehow I did. I thought I'd pass the fuck out last night and sleep like the dead until 7:30 this morning when I had to get up to sub for my friend N at 8:00am (which by the way I think is a STUPID time to do Zumba!) But sadly that was not the reality. I barely slept for some reason. So this morning I taught Zumba with my eyes half open, downed a Monster Zero as soon as I got home, and have been wired with caffeine ever since.
Should be an interesting day!
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Plane Crash Causes
I will write a post about my tour of EDCP and my discussion with their dietician. However, my brain is too overloaded to do that right now, so I've spent the better part of the last hour reading about aviation disasters.
As I mentioned just above, I've spent some time reading about something that fascinates me - aviation disasters. AKA, airplane crashes. I feel sad for the victims of the crashes and their families. I am intrigued by the how/why. How did a state-of-the-art aircraft crash? Why did it crash? Who, if anyone, caused it to crash?
This led me to a site, Aviation Safety Network, that has a page on it with the air traffic control (ATC) transcripts. Not to be confused with the cockpit voice recorder (CVR) the ATC transcripts only show the words spoken between ATC and the pilots. The CVR records all sounds in the cockpit.
On this page with the ATC recording transcripts, it also lists the cause of the crash. And there are some pretty odd ones! You have the usual (sorry to say it) mechanical failure, weather issue, pilot error... but then you get some that are not so "mundane." If I take a second and actually stop and think about how this occurred, I get a little confused. What were these pilots thinking?
Among the listed reasons:
As I mentioned just above, I've spent some time reading about something that fascinates me - aviation disasters. AKA, airplane crashes. I feel sad for the victims of the crashes and their families. I am intrigued by the how/why. How did a state-of-the-art aircraft crash? Why did it crash? Who, if anyone, caused it to crash?
This led me to a site, Aviation Safety Network, that has a page on it with the air traffic control (ATC) transcripts. Not to be confused with the cockpit voice recorder (CVR) the ATC transcripts only show the words spoken between ATC and the pilots. The CVR records all sounds in the cockpit.
On this page with the ATC recording transcripts, it also lists the cause of the crash. And there are some pretty odd ones! You have the usual (sorry to say it) mechanical failure, weather issue, pilot error... but then you get some that are not so "mundane." If I take a second and actually stop and think about how this occurred, I get a little confused. What were these pilots thinking?
Among the listed reasons:
- collision with trainer
- premature descent
- gear collapse on landing
- overran after aborted takeoff (V1 anybody?)
- wrong takeoff configuration
- loss of orientation in fog
- CFIT (controlled flight into terrain) in fog
- premature spoiler deployment
- descended into swamp (the wording on this one gets me...)
- mid-air collision (!!!!)
- double engine failure in hailstorm
- collision with Cessna (a 727.. pick on someone your own size!)
- CFIW (controlled flight into water)
- shoot down
- engine fire
- shot down by Russian fighter
- bomb explosion
- windshear
- loss of control after bulkhead failure (whatever that means..)
- collision with trees
- cargo door blew out
- fuel exhaustion (ran out of gas)
- loss of control after inflight thrust-reverser deployment (went into reverse in air)
- double engine failure after ice ingestion
- engine separation
- belly landing
- stalled on approach
- asymmetric power condition on go-around (equal power, guys...)
- prop-blade separation
- simulated engine failure on takeoff (if it was simulated what's the problem?)
- birdstrike on take off (the poor things...)
- struck barn on go-around in fog
- descent below glidepath
- cargo shift on takeoff
- dove into the ground (pilot suicide, sugar coated)
- overshot runway in poor weather
- loss of control, possibly pilot-induced (if you have to say it...)
- horizontal stabilizer failure
- takeoff from wrong runway (!!??)
- entered flatspin (lord have mercy! how scary!)
- hijacked and crashed
And those were just from 1962 to 2004! Imagine what it'll have to say about Asiana 214!
EDCP
I have an appointment at 12:30 today to go see Eating Disorder Center of Portland (EDCP) and meet with their dietician. I wouldn't say I'm nervous, exactly, but I wouldn't say I'm looking forward to it either. Alena's brother, G, is going with me (as I mentioned before) and thank god for that or else I probably wouldn't be going.
Yesterday I saw my therapist. She told me that if I look/seem as bad off as I did yesterday any more that she is going to call my dad, since he is the emergency contact I put. Guess I'll just have to lie! No way in hell am I letting her call him. He'd flip out. My therapist asked me when I'm seeing my naturopath again, and I said Friday. She asked me what I would do if my naturopath told me to go to the hospital. I said, "I probably wouldn't go." I find it unlikely that she'll tell me to go there in the first place, but if she did I would probably say no. Or that I'd go the next day. I have to teach a class Friday night.
I can't go to treatment now anyway... I am getting my wisdom teeth out on the 20th. No treatment place is going to want anything to do with me until after that is all healed up. Furthermore, I can't go to treatment now because I have too many responsibilities. I finally got the class at Sunset Athletic Club I'd been waiting over year for. It starts in September. Fridays at 10:00am. If I were to call J, the Group X coordinator, and say "oh, just kidding, I have to go to treatment!" I'd screw myself over big time with SAC. I've just been given these responsibilities, now that L moved to Cali, I've got seniority at my other gym, Hardcore Training Studio. Not that seniority means shit all in Zumba, but maybe. I don't know. I picked up L's Wednesday night class at Hardcore, and her Monday/Wednesday morning class at Ballroom Dance. My schedule is flipping crazy. If I drop all these classes I just earned, I'd fuck myself over in my career, perhaps irreversibly.
I already did that once last fall. I lost two jobs for good. The people there won't ever take me seriously again. In fact, one of the places the people were downright bitchy about it! Goes to show you that people generally don't understand eating disorders. Things like "Just eat!" get spoken so often it makes me want to scream.
Furthermore, I can't go to treatment now because I need to fit into my wedding dress! As someone so bluntly put it, after I showed her a picture of my dress, "oh, Kate! Now you can't gain weight!"
Heaven knows I'd rather die than gain weight anyway.
Nothing makes sense! I don't even make sense!!! Maybe if I do enough zumba, and eat little enough, I can just disappear and this whole problem will go away! I know... that's not going to happen but I can dream, right?
Yesterday I saw my therapist. She told me that if I look/seem as bad off as I did yesterday any more that she is going to call my dad, since he is the emergency contact I put. Guess I'll just have to lie! No way in hell am I letting her call him. He'd flip out. My therapist asked me when I'm seeing my naturopath again, and I said Friday. She asked me what I would do if my naturopath told me to go to the hospital. I said, "I probably wouldn't go." I find it unlikely that she'll tell me to go there in the first place, but if she did I would probably say no. Or that I'd go the next day. I have to teach a class Friday night.
I can't go to treatment now anyway... I am getting my wisdom teeth out on the 20th. No treatment place is going to want anything to do with me until after that is all healed up. Furthermore, I can't go to treatment now because I have too many responsibilities. I finally got the class at Sunset Athletic Club I'd been waiting over year for. It starts in September. Fridays at 10:00am. If I were to call J, the Group X coordinator, and say "oh, just kidding, I have to go to treatment!" I'd screw myself over big time with SAC. I've just been given these responsibilities, now that L moved to Cali, I've got seniority at my other gym, Hardcore Training Studio. Not that seniority means shit all in Zumba, but maybe. I don't know. I picked up L's Wednesday night class at Hardcore, and her Monday/Wednesday morning class at Ballroom Dance. My schedule is flipping crazy. If I drop all these classes I just earned, I'd fuck myself over in my career, perhaps irreversibly.
I already did that once last fall. I lost two jobs for good. The people there won't ever take me seriously again. In fact, one of the places the people were downright bitchy about it! Goes to show you that people generally don't understand eating disorders. Things like "Just eat!" get spoken so often it makes me want to scream.
Furthermore, I can't go to treatment now because I need to fit into my wedding dress! As someone so bluntly put it, after I showed her a picture of my dress, "oh, Kate! Now you can't gain weight!"
Heaven knows I'd rather die than gain weight anyway.
Nothing makes sense! I don't even make sense!!! Maybe if I do enough zumba, and eat little enough, I can just disappear and this whole problem will go away! I know... that's not going to happen but I can dream, right?
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Stupid
Note to stupid self.
oh my god. I'm so dumb. So so so dumb. Slight overdose on laxatives and now i have to go to Ikea. My stomach is cramping so hard I can't even walk upright.
So stupid. So very stupid.
oh my god. I'm so dumb. So so so dumb. Slight overdose on laxatives and now i have to go to Ikea. My stomach is cramping so hard I can't even walk upright.
So stupid. So very stupid.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Nightmares & Flashbacks
I've been having nightmares and flashbacks. This is problematic enough, but here's the thing: when I've been having them, I am not asleep!!!! I've been having space-out episodes like no other, but now they're being invaded by these awful memories. Memories of a treatment place.
The reason this is all coming about in the last 24 hours is because I went to my therapist yesterday, and I brought my friend A with me. My friend A has now given me permission to use her name in this blog, so that last sentence should now read "...I brought my friend Alena with me." The reason I brought her was twofold: first, I knew I could never be as honest with my therapist as I've been with Alena (which I really needed to do) unless Alena was RIGHT THERE with me. The second reason was because I wanted her to see how eating disorder therapy can go sometimes. As it turned out, the second goal wasn't really accomplished because we spent the entire time hashing out my second to least favorite topic: treatment.
It is the general consensus that I should go back to treatment again. My labs are looking bad, my vitals are looking bad, my pallor is looking bad (apparently)... basically things are just not going so well.
St. V's, my preferred place of treatment, most likely won't take me back a 6th time. Besides, they'd throw a shit fit about the fact that I'm getting my wisdom teeth pulled on the 20th. But that's a whole different story.
So my therapist mentions that there's a new treatment place that just opened up here in Portland and that she's having kind of a complex because all her patients are in treatment! (Hmm...) I asked a few questions and was thinking about it. Then I asked one important question, "what about the food?" and the answer I got was almost a deal-breaker. Actually, I said it was a deal-breaker at the time. She told me that everyone eats the same thing for meals, the differences are in the snacks.
Oh no. No way. That's how it was at Kartini. They made us all eat basically the same thing every meal. They forced me to eat horrible stuff and caused me to gain 40 lb in 12 weeks. THAT IS A LOT!!! OH MY GOD!!!!! It was definitely horrible and the 12-18 months that followed it were the darkest of my life. I think back on it and wonder how on earth I even made it through.
Now I understand that this new place (Eating Disorder Center of Portland, or EDCP) isn't Kartini. I understand that they aren't necessarily going to put 40 lb on me, or even any weight on me at all. But the idea of having a meal plan that isn't totally individualized just doesn't sit well with me. When my therapist answered my question that way, I sat frozen for a second or two because my brain and body were busy being flooded with memories and terror.
It's not that I don't know I'm sick. I do! It's not that I want to be sick forever. I don't! But I'm not sure I can go to a place that's so similar. Just 10 minutes ago I went to their website and even the pictures look like Kartini.
Anyway, my therapist asked me if I'd be willing to go see the place and meet the dietitian, if she could arrange it. I said I would. Alena's brother G offered to go with me. I was so relieved. If G didn't come with me I'd probably be going by myself. Alena's family has kind of "adopted" me as of late. Which is exactly what I needed because my family is a little unhelpful at the moment. So I'll go see EDCP with G on Tuesday the 13th. I'll let you know how that goes.
The reason this is all coming about in the last 24 hours is because I went to my therapist yesterday, and I brought my friend A with me. My friend A has now given me permission to use her name in this blog, so that last sentence should now read "...I brought my friend Alena with me." The reason I brought her was twofold: first, I knew I could never be as honest with my therapist as I've been with Alena (which I really needed to do) unless Alena was RIGHT THERE with me. The second reason was because I wanted her to see how eating disorder therapy can go sometimes. As it turned out, the second goal wasn't really accomplished because we spent the entire time hashing out my second to least favorite topic: treatment.
It is the general consensus that I should go back to treatment again. My labs are looking bad, my vitals are looking bad, my pallor is looking bad (apparently)... basically things are just not going so well.
St. V's, my preferred place of treatment, most likely won't take me back a 6th time. Besides, they'd throw a shit fit about the fact that I'm getting my wisdom teeth pulled on the 20th. But that's a whole different story.
So my therapist mentions that there's a new treatment place that just opened up here in Portland and that she's having kind of a complex because all her patients are in treatment! (Hmm...) I asked a few questions and was thinking about it. Then I asked one important question, "what about the food?" and the answer I got was almost a deal-breaker. Actually, I said it was a deal-breaker at the time. She told me that everyone eats the same thing for meals, the differences are in the snacks.
Oh no. No way. That's how it was at Kartini. They made us all eat basically the same thing every meal. They forced me to eat horrible stuff and caused me to gain 40 lb in 12 weeks. THAT IS A LOT!!! OH MY GOD!!!!! It was definitely horrible and the 12-18 months that followed it were the darkest of my life. I think back on it and wonder how on earth I even made it through.
Now I understand that this new place (Eating Disorder Center of Portland, or EDCP) isn't Kartini. I understand that they aren't necessarily going to put 40 lb on me, or even any weight on me at all. But the idea of having a meal plan that isn't totally individualized just doesn't sit well with me. When my therapist answered my question that way, I sat frozen for a second or two because my brain and body were busy being flooded with memories and terror.
It's not that I don't know I'm sick. I do! It's not that I want to be sick forever. I don't! But I'm not sure I can go to a place that's so similar. Just 10 minutes ago I went to their website and even the pictures look like Kartini.
Anyway, my therapist asked me if I'd be willing to go see the place and meet the dietitian, if she could arrange it. I said I would. Alena's brother G offered to go with me. I was so relieved. If G didn't come with me I'd probably be going by myself. Alena's family has kind of "adopted" me as of late. Which is exactly what I needed because my family is a little unhelpful at the moment. So I'll go see EDCP with G on Tuesday the 13th. I'll let you know how that goes.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Random Medical Stuff
This is going to be a really random post about various and sundry medical topics. Several things to mention:
1) I got my period. For about 24 hours! But that's more than I've had in 3 and a half years. Not sure how I feel about it. I said to Corky at dinner, "how interesting is that, the very last chance my body gets to show me what it can do before we get married, it does it??" It's hard for me to describe the feelings that flashed through me when I realized what was going on. Sadness, fear, relief and irritated, to name a few! It turns out that, speaking of blood, there's some weird things going on with my labs so.. it might not mean anything or it might mean something. Hard to know.
2) My iron is low. Low might be an understatement, actually. My ferritin (storage iron) is down from 19 in May to 13. The range is 10-291. My naturopath put her thumbs under my eyes and pulled the lower lids down and looked at the inside pink bit. Except it wasn't pink, it was whiter than the whites of my eyes. My resting pulse was over 100 because my body can't get oxygen. Which actually explains a lot about why I feel so crappy.
3) My blood pressure is all screwy. Last week, on Wednesday, my blood pressure was 78/46. That was interesting. Today it was 88/56. Better. But I still don't feel too hot.
Sorry.. I actually meant this post to be longer but I am exhausted...
1) I got my period. For about 24 hours! But that's more than I've had in 3 and a half years. Not sure how I feel about it. I said to Corky at dinner, "how interesting is that, the very last chance my body gets to show me what it can do before we get married, it does it??" It's hard for me to describe the feelings that flashed through me when I realized what was going on. Sadness, fear, relief and irritated, to name a few! It turns out that, speaking of blood, there's some weird things going on with my labs so.. it might not mean anything or it might mean something. Hard to know.
2) My iron is low. Low might be an understatement, actually. My ferritin (storage iron) is down from 19 in May to 13. The range is 10-291. My naturopath put her thumbs under my eyes and pulled the lower lids down and looked at the inside pink bit. Except it wasn't pink, it was whiter than the whites of my eyes. My resting pulse was over 100 because my body can't get oxygen. Which actually explains a lot about why I feel so crappy.
3) My blood pressure is all screwy. Last week, on Wednesday, my blood pressure was 78/46. That was interesting. Today it was 88/56. Better. But I still don't feel too hot.
Sorry.. I actually meant this post to be longer but I am exhausted...
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Letter To My Best Friend
Dear Bestie,
I won't put your name on this blog, don't worry. This will be anonymous - well, anonymous on the internet! I just wanted to write this letter to tell you a few things:
1) YOU ARE LOVED. You are loved by many. Your family, your friends, your pets. Each and every one of us need you. You are a beloved sister, daughter, niece and cousin. You are a cherished friend, confidant, and soul sister. Without you, our lives would not be complete. Your parents lives would not be complete without you. Your brother's life would certainly not be complete without you. MY life would not be complete without you.
2) YOU ARE WORTHY. You are deserving of everything wonderful, beautiful, happy and fulfilling this world has to offer. You may have off days and not believe those words, but that's when we all rally around you and remind you and lift you up. You lift me up when I cannot do it myself. I am honored to have the privilege to do the same for you.
3) YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Beauty is emotional, physical, mental and energetic. Your beauty comes through in all of those forms. You have a beautiful mind, soul, face, body and spirit. The body is a shell for the soul. A vessel. A masterpiece. But your spirit - the things that shine through onto the world every day - that is your Magnum Opus. I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say that I feel grateful to know you.
4) YOU ARE IMPORTANT. No matter what is going on in my life, I always have time for you. If you call me and I can't answer, I will call you back. If you text me, I will always respond as soon as I can. If you need me to come over at 2 in the morning but can't find the courage to ask me, send me a text with one word - "BLOG" - and I'll be there faster than you can imagine. I don't care what I have to do the next morning. I'll never question your reasoning or invalidate you. That's not what a true friend does.
5) YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Don't forget, even on your hardest days, that you're not walking alone. No matter what fruit life throws at you (lemons, starfruit, those sharp, pointy, orange fruits, whatever they're called) I'm sure I have a recipe you can use to make something sweet out of it! If I don't, someone will. Nothing is irreversible, nothing is impossible. There are many people (and animals) in this world that are happy to help lift your burden. All you have to do is ask.
Love you friend. Till we're old and decrepit.
XOXO
-Me.
I won't put your name on this blog, don't worry. This will be anonymous - well, anonymous on the internet! I just wanted to write this letter to tell you a few things:
1) YOU ARE LOVED. You are loved by many. Your family, your friends, your pets. Each and every one of us need you. You are a beloved sister, daughter, niece and cousin. You are a cherished friend, confidant, and soul sister. Without you, our lives would not be complete. Your parents lives would not be complete without you. Your brother's life would certainly not be complete without you. MY life would not be complete without you.
2) YOU ARE WORTHY. You are deserving of everything wonderful, beautiful, happy and fulfilling this world has to offer. You may have off days and not believe those words, but that's when we all rally around you and remind you and lift you up. You lift me up when I cannot do it myself. I am honored to have the privilege to do the same for you.
3) YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Beauty is emotional, physical, mental and energetic. Your beauty comes through in all of those forms. You have a beautiful mind, soul, face, body and spirit. The body is a shell for the soul. A vessel. A masterpiece. But your spirit - the things that shine through onto the world every day - that is your Magnum Opus. I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say that I feel grateful to know you.
4) YOU ARE IMPORTANT. No matter what is going on in my life, I always have time for you. If you call me and I can't answer, I will call you back. If you text me, I will always respond as soon as I can. If you need me to come over at 2 in the morning but can't find the courage to ask me, send me a text with one word - "BLOG" - and I'll be there faster than you can imagine. I don't care what I have to do the next morning. I'll never question your reasoning or invalidate you. That's not what a true friend does.
5) YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Don't forget, even on your hardest days, that you're not walking alone. No matter what fruit life throws at you (lemons, starfruit, those sharp, pointy, orange fruits, whatever they're called) I'm sure I have a recipe you can use to make something sweet out of it! If I don't, someone will. Nothing is irreversible, nothing is impossible. There are many people (and animals) in this world that are happy to help lift your burden. All you have to do is ask.
Love you friend. Till we're old and decrepit.
XOXO
-Me.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
The Dress
Yesterday was THE DAY. D-Day. Dress Day. The day I had been dreading since the first week of June when Cocoon Silk called to say my dress was ready for me to come try on. I conveniently put that off because first I had finals, then I had lots of appointments, had to take care of my new puppy, lots of Zumba classes to teach, a trip to Mexico for my bestie's wedding, my birthday... etc, etc.
Finally, a week and a half ago, I dialed my mom's cell number and, before I could change my mind, told her that I needed her to call Cocoon Silk and make me an appointment to try my dress on. Any Saturday, any time of day. She called back two days later and said, "Saturday, August 3rd at 4 o'clock." I texted my best friend A and asked if she and her mom would go with me (my mom couldn't go.)
I can remember a while ago, maybe a month or two, crying hysterically in bed, trying to explain to Corky why I was so scared to try on my dress. I cried so hard I got the hiccups and I couldn't breathe. My head hurt the whole next day from crying so hard the night before.
On Monday I went to see my PMHNP. Her name is Meg. I told her I'd been feeling anxious for a while, more so than usual. She asked me the dosages of the meds I'm taking, and I told her. I had cut one in half because I wanted to wean off of it. She told me, "that's the reason you're so anxious. Bring it back up to your original dosage and that should help." Thank goodness she told me that, or else I may never have made it through yesterday!
Friday night I did not sleep well. I stayed out till about midnight that night, at a late-night coffee shop with A and our other friend L. I got home around 12:30, showered, took my meds and was in bed by 1:00am. I asked Corky if we could watch a show because I knew I'd never be able to relax if we didn't. Thankfully, I drifted off halfway through X-Files. But it was not a good night's sleep. I had nightmare after nightmare, all related to weddings. Dresses, flowers, earrings, high heels... they all morphed into eerie caricatures of themselves in my restless sleep. I woke up time and again, burning hot, freezing cold, sweating, freaked out. I couldn't wait for morning!
I got up and went to L's Zumba class at 9:00am. By the time I got home, Corky had left for work already. I cleaned the kitchen, cleaned off the table, did two loads of laundry, and I was jumping out of my skin. It was only noon! I called my dad, he came over and we took Abby and Jax to the dog park. Finally, it was time for me to go get ready.
To my intense horror, I couldn't find the strapless bra I intended to wear with the dress. The next best thing was to wear another one and tuck the straps down, so I did. I messed with my hair. Did my makeup. Washed it all of, did it again. Finally I couldn't procrastinate anymore. It was time to go.
I drove into NW Portland, giving myself a pep talk. I was horrified to find that I had a huge lump in my throat. I parked the car several blocks from the shop (which was at 21st & Hoyt.) As I walked, I texted my friend R saying, "I'm walking from my car to the shop to try on my dress. I feel like I am walking to my own execution!"
As I neared the shop, I realized I really had to pee. I didn't want to walk into the dress shop because A and her mom weren't there yet and I didn't want to try it on without them there. So I went into a Starbucks, ordered an iced tea that I didn't want, used the bathroom while they made it, and then tossed it in the trash as soon as I walked out the door. $2.45 down the drain. Oh well. At least I wouldn't pee my pants!
I waited outside Cocoon Silk until 4:01. A and her mom were having trouble parking. I couldn't wait any longer. I was late and I hate being late. I texted A, "I'm going in. See you when you get here." I took a deep breath, let it out slow, and walked up the steps. I was vibrating with terror and excitement. Part of me couldn't wait to see the dress! Another part of me never wanted to see it at all.
The bell above the door jangled noisily as I entered. It was just like I remembered. Mannequins everywhere, some with heads, some without, all clad in yards and yards of silk in every color. The bay windows were full of gowns, bridesmaid dresses and jewelry. Silk curtains hung from ceiling to floor all around, creating almost a fun-house vibe. A lady I'd never seen before was sitting behind a small desk to my right.
"Can I help you?" she chirped.
"Yeah," I mumbled, trying to unfreeze my legs. "I'm here to try on an appointment. I mean, a dress! I have an appointment to try on a dress!" Geez, I thought. Could I sound any dumber?
"Sure, what's your name?"
"Kate." At least I got that part right!
"Oh!" The woman's face lit up excitedly. "You're the one with the black beauty!"
I was confused. "The what?"
Before the lady could answer, a young woman appeared from a side door, carrying The Dress.
"The black beauty! We've all been waiting so long to see this dress tried on!"
Well my friends, it was aptly named. It is a beautiful dress. And yes, it is black. I stared at it. It looked like the girl was carrying an artifact, rather than my wedding gown! I couldn't believe that I was about to try that on. And where the heck was A?? I thought the dress looked awfully small....
"Here's your fitting room," said the girl carrying my 'black beauty'. "Let me know if you need help zipping it up."
I glanced around frantically, but A was nowhere to be seen. It was time, and I was all on my own. "Okay..." I said, then joked "you mean, let you know when I need help zipping up!"
I went in the dressing room, pulled the (silk) curtain closed, and I immediately understood why the shop was named Cocoon Silk. I was totally surrounded by white silk. I wanted to just stay in there forever. (I'm sure it's not named Cocoon Silk because of it's dressing rooms, but it certainly fit!) I hung up my bag, took off my clothes, and stared and stared at Black Beauty.
After two or three deep breaths, I reached up and slipped the little loops off the hanger. The dress went limp in my hands. It wasn't as heavy as I'd expected. It didn't look too menacing, but there was just one problem: how the heck do I get into it? After a few attempts that went absolutely nowhere, I finally dropped it straight down onto the floor, kicked my foot into the top, found the floor, and added the other foot. My whole body buzzed as I reached down to pull it up.
At first I thought it wasn't going to make it up over my hips. I thought I might have to try to pull it over my head. That would have been difficult to say the least. Fortunately, the dress slid up over my hips without any trouble. I pulled it up to my armpits and reached behind to try to inch the zipper up. I moved it up a few inches and then did what I'd been dreading: I pulled the dress together in the back to see by how much it would be too small. Immensely relieved was I to discover that it seemed like it would zip without protest.
"Okay!" I called to the girl, "I need help now!"
She came in. She hooked the clasp. And zipped. The. Dress. All. The. Way. Up.
"Hmm..." she said. "Maybe just a little loose, but its actually a very, very close fit! Come on out and look."
I shuffled out and was face to face with a giant wall of mirrors, not unlike the mirrors I'm in front of daily when I teach Zumba. Lo and behold, the dress looked pretty damn good! I stepped up on the stool, and the girl and the woman zoomed about, adjusting ruffles, fixing the train, checking to see how it fit around my back and hips. I went and got my heels that I plan to wear for the wedding and put them on so the girl could pin it up to hem it.
As I stood there in my heels and dress, A and her mom came in. Their eyes widened and they both grinned. A came up and hugged me. The first thing she said to me was, "your boobs look GREAT!" I burst out laughing. Thank God for A!!! Her mom fussed around me, like a mom should, asking questions about the fraying of the organza (which was normal) and the sweetheart "neckline" (more like chest line!) and other such things. A took pictures. The train looks awesome.
The lady and the girl explained how we'd bustle it. They asked me questions about my theme and my colors. They ooh'ed and aah'ed over Black Beauty and told me that it went perfectly with my tattoos and that they thought it was the perfect dress for me. A said, "I can't imagine you getting married in white, Kate. You'd look beautiful, but it just wouldn't be you!"
The girl told me they'd call me again in about two months, about a month before the wedding, for the final fitting. I paid the remaining balance and we were gone.
I lived. I have a wedding dress. And it's fucking gorgeous.
Finally, a week and a half ago, I dialed my mom's cell number and, before I could change my mind, told her that I needed her to call Cocoon Silk and make me an appointment to try my dress on. Any Saturday, any time of day. She called back two days later and said, "Saturday, August 3rd at 4 o'clock." I texted my best friend A and asked if she and her mom would go with me (my mom couldn't go.)
I can remember a while ago, maybe a month or two, crying hysterically in bed, trying to explain to Corky why I was so scared to try on my dress. I cried so hard I got the hiccups and I couldn't breathe. My head hurt the whole next day from crying so hard the night before.
On Monday I went to see my PMHNP. Her name is Meg. I told her I'd been feeling anxious for a while, more so than usual. She asked me the dosages of the meds I'm taking, and I told her. I had cut one in half because I wanted to wean off of it. She told me, "that's the reason you're so anxious. Bring it back up to your original dosage and that should help." Thank goodness she told me that, or else I may never have made it through yesterday!
Friday night I did not sleep well. I stayed out till about midnight that night, at a late-night coffee shop with A and our other friend L. I got home around 12:30, showered, took my meds and was in bed by 1:00am. I asked Corky if we could watch a show because I knew I'd never be able to relax if we didn't. Thankfully, I drifted off halfway through X-Files. But it was not a good night's sleep. I had nightmare after nightmare, all related to weddings. Dresses, flowers, earrings, high heels... they all morphed into eerie caricatures of themselves in my restless sleep. I woke up time and again, burning hot, freezing cold, sweating, freaked out. I couldn't wait for morning!
I got up and went to L's Zumba class at 9:00am. By the time I got home, Corky had left for work already. I cleaned the kitchen, cleaned off the table, did two loads of laundry, and I was jumping out of my skin. It was only noon! I called my dad, he came over and we took Abby and Jax to the dog park. Finally, it was time for me to go get ready.
To my intense horror, I couldn't find the strapless bra I intended to wear with the dress. The next best thing was to wear another one and tuck the straps down, so I did. I messed with my hair. Did my makeup. Washed it all of, did it again. Finally I couldn't procrastinate anymore. It was time to go.
I drove into NW Portland, giving myself a pep talk. I was horrified to find that I had a huge lump in my throat. I parked the car several blocks from the shop (which was at 21st & Hoyt.) As I walked, I texted my friend R saying, "I'm walking from my car to the shop to try on my dress. I feel like I am walking to my own execution!"
As I neared the shop, I realized I really had to pee. I didn't want to walk into the dress shop because A and her mom weren't there yet and I didn't want to try it on without them there. So I went into a Starbucks, ordered an iced tea that I didn't want, used the bathroom while they made it, and then tossed it in the trash as soon as I walked out the door. $2.45 down the drain. Oh well. At least I wouldn't pee my pants!
I waited outside Cocoon Silk until 4:01. A and her mom were having trouble parking. I couldn't wait any longer. I was late and I hate being late. I texted A, "I'm going in. See you when you get here." I took a deep breath, let it out slow, and walked up the steps. I was vibrating with terror and excitement. Part of me couldn't wait to see the dress! Another part of me never wanted to see it at all.
The bell above the door jangled noisily as I entered. It was just like I remembered. Mannequins everywhere, some with heads, some without, all clad in yards and yards of silk in every color. The bay windows were full of gowns, bridesmaid dresses and jewelry. Silk curtains hung from ceiling to floor all around, creating almost a fun-house vibe. A lady I'd never seen before was sitting behind a small desk to my right.
"Can I help you?" she chirped.
"Yeah," I mumbled, trying to unfreeze my legs. "I'm here to try on an appointment. I mean, a dress! I have an appointment to try on a dress!" Geez, I thought. Could I sound any dumber?
"Sure, what's your name?"
"Kate." At least I got that part right!
"Oh!" The woman's face lit up excitedly. "You're the one with the black beauty!"
I was confused. "The what?"
Before the lady could answer, a young woman appeared from a side door, carrying The Dress.
"The black beauty! We've all been waiting so long to see this dress tried on!"
Well my friends, it was aptly named. It is a beautiful dress. And yes, it is black. I stared at it. It looked like the girl was carrying an artifact, rather than my wedding gown! I couldn't believe that I was about to try that on. And where the heck was A?? I thought the dress looked awfully small....
"Here's your fitting room," said the girl carrying my 'black beauty'. "Let me know if you need help zipping it up."
I glanced around frantically, but A was nowhere to be seen. It was time, and I was all on my own. "Okay..." I said, then joked "you mean, let you know when I need help zipping up!"
I went in the dressing room, pulled the (silk) curtain closed, and I immediately understood why the shop was named Cocoon Silk. I was totally surrounded by white silk. I wanted to just stay in there forever. (I'm sure it's not named Cocoon Silk because of it's dressing rooms, but it certainly fit!) I hung up my bag, took off my clothes, and stared and stared at Black Beauty.
After two or three deep breaths, I reached up and slipped the little loops off the hanger. The dress went limp in my hands. It wasn't as heavy as I'd expected. It didn't look too menacing, but there was just one problem: how the heck do I get into it? After a few attempts that went absolutely nowhere, I finally dropped it straight down onto the floor, kicked my foot into the top, found the floor, and added the other foot. My whole body buzzed as I reached down to pull it up.
At first I thought it wasn't going to make it up over my hips. I thought I might have to try to pull it over my head. That would have been difficult to say the least. Fortunately, the dress slid up over my hips without any trouble. I pulled it up to my armpits and reached behind to try to inch the zipper up. I moved it up a few inches and then did what I'd been dreading: I pulled the dress together in the back to see by how much it would be too small. Immensely relieved was I to discover that it seemed like it would zip without protest.
"Okay!" I called to the girl, "I need help now!"
She came in. She hooked the clasp. And zipped. The. Dress. All. The. Way. Up.
"Hmm..." she said. "Maybe just a little loose, but its actually a very, very close fit! Come on out and look."
I shuffled out and was face to face with a giant wall of mirrors, not unlike the mirrors I'm in front of daily when I teach Zumba. Lo and behold, the dress looked pretty damn good! I stepped up on the stool, and the girl and the woman zoomed about, adjusting ruffles, fixing the train, checking to see how it fit around my back and hips. I went and got my heels that I plan to wear for the wedding and put them on so the girl could pin it up to hem it.
As I stood there in my heels and dress, A and her mom came in. Their eyes widened and they both grinned. A came up and hugged me. The first thing she said to me was, "your boobs look GREAT!" I burst out laughing. Thank God for A!!! Her mom fussed around me, like a mom should, asking questions about the fraying of the organza (which was normal) and the sweetheart "neckline" (more like chest line!) and other such things. A took pictures. The train looks awesome.
The lady and the girl explained how we'd bustle it. They asked me questions about my theme and my colors. They ooh'ed and aah'ed over Black Beauty and told me that it went perfectly with my tattoos and that they thought it was the perfect dress for me. A said, "I can't imagine you getting married in white, Kate. You'd look beautiful, but it just wouldn't be you!"
The girl told me they'd call me again in about two months, about a month before the wedding, for the final fitting. I paid the remaining balance and we were gone.
I lived. I have a wedding dress. And it's fucking gorgeous.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
D Day
D for Dress.
The day is upon me. 3 hours and 49 minutes from now I will try on my wedding dress for the first time. I can't believe I just typed those words. I feel like my head is going to come off!
I can't explain to you using English words quite how I feel about this. There aren't any words to describe it! It's indescribable, that's why! Electricity, maybe, would be the closest word to describe how my body feels right now. It's buzzing. With fear and excitement.
My dress is a custom dress, made just for me. Made just to fit me. It's black, just like I wanted, and made of silk. It should be beautiful.
Let's just hope it fits.
The day is upon me. 3 hours and 49 minutes from now I will try on my wedding dress for the first time. I can't believe I just typed those words. I feel like my head is going to come off!
I can't explain to you using English words quite how I feel about this. There aren't any words to describe it! It's indescribable, that's why! Electricity, maybe, would be the closest word to describe how my body feels right now. It's buzzing. With fear and excitement.
My dress is a custom dress, made just for me. Made just to fit me. It's black, just like I wanted, and made of silk. It should be beautiful.
Let's just hope it fits.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Conversation
Before I make a post about the wedding dress......
Here is a snippet of a conversation that took place on facebook just now between my friend (who also has an eating disorder) and myself.
Here is a snippet of a conversation that took place on facebook just now between my friend (who also has an eating disorder) and myself.
- My Friend:
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