I'm gonna be a Mommy!

Oh, it's been a crazy weekend! I've been feeling super tired lately and so on Friday I decided to go over to medical and have a blood test done. Sure enough, it was positive- I'm pregnant! Yippie! I went to the store and bought some baby socks, then took them home and told my husband I had gotten something- he was so stunned and happy!
Last night I was so exhausted that I went to bed at like 6pm, so I was up at like 6:30 this morning and I was like "eww, we can go to the garage sales!". So, I got up, showered, and got ready to go.....until I heard the sirens outside. It turns out that we were under a tsunami warning almost all day- until about 1:30pm. Luckily though, everything was fine. There were certainly some waves, but nothing huge or crazy.
So, now I'm off to bed again! Oh, man I'm exhausted. Oh, by the way- I'm 3 weeks, 1 day along- so my due date is November 10th. At least now when I purge after I eat no one wonders anything- they just think that it's pregnancy sickness- hehe.
My goal is to only gain 10-15lbs during these coming nine months. In fact, I'd love to loose weight, but I know that's not healthy. The way I see it is that I've got fat to lose, so why can't I just "trade" the weight (lose fat, gain baby) and end up being even? That could work, right? I am certainly going to keep working on my arms and back though- the last thing I want to do is be a fat pregnant woman- you know the ones that people can't tell if they're having a baby or if they're just that big?
Alright, we'll it's time for me to pass out- I can barely keep my eyes open!

Getting large again

Ugh, sorry it's been so long since I last blogged. As always, there's been a lot going on. I've been going to physical therapy for my back three times a week, I finally got more of the house unpacked and almost "presentable", and.... we got a new puppy! I'll have to put a pic up somewhere. She's our second boxer and we named her Megara - Meg for short- as in the wife of Hercules (our other boxer). She's adorable, but something's not quite right- as of this morning her little tummy is upset. She's been throwing up and having "bathroom problems", and now she's not eating. She hasn't been playing at all today and her already thin frame is now looking scarily thin. We went through a similar thing with Hercules, but it turned out to be because he ate something bad. Because of what we went through with Hercules, we've been super super careful about watching her to make sure she didn't get into anything bad.
Why am I going on and on about this? Because the truly sad thing is that when I look at her and see how sick she looks, I'm jealous. I wish my bones showed the way that hers do. The last two weeks have been tough for me - going out to dinner with parents when they were here, not to mention not being able to bend over to purge, I feel like I've gained tons of weight.
Tonight, I got a break. Right after we ate, I talked my husband into going to take the dog outside to go potty. As soon as he was out of the house, I ran to the bathroom. Now I just need to focus more, to keep my eye on my goal weight and to never give up.

Mommy's in town

Ugh, the time that I have been dreading for so long is now here. My mother is in town. I know most others don't quite understand, but here's the thing- this is the first time that my mother has been to "my" house in, well, ever. I moved away when I was 18 and joined the military. My first duty station was in California, and it took until the end of my 2.5 year stay there for her to come and see me- but I was in the barracks.
Now, I've been in Hawaii for 4 years and she's finally here. Part of me is excited to see her, to have a family face around me again. On the same hand, I can't stand being around her - she makes me so unsure of myself. I know that the way she brought me up has a lot to do with my ed- and now she's here, watching me. It's not even like i can just avoid eating around her- because that's what we do, we go out to eat. At the same time, it doesn't matter what I order, because it's like she's constantly watching me.
Yesterday, I was appalled. We went to Target for her to get some snacks and water bottles for her hotel room. I couldn't believe what she bought- it was all horrible and fattening food- stuff I wouldn't even consider buying. I know if I said anything to her, she'd just say that "she's on vacation", but they sure as hell don't like it if I want to eat something from back home.
I'm just confused and angry. I want to have a great relationship with my mom- I want to be able to talk to her, but I can't. It just bugs me that she's so high and mighty and I'm still this little girl on the inside that just wants her mom to be that amazing mom.
Anyway, that's my vent for today- if it's a few days, you'll know why- mommy will be gone next week.

This is what an ED feels like:

So often in this community, the common thread we all share is that no one understands what we're going through except for those people who also have eating disorders. For me, this is what having an eating disorder means:
It means that when I see myself in the mirror, I hate the reflection. There's no part of the reflection that I like whatsoever. It doesn't matter what outfit I put on, or if I do my makeup extra special- nothing will make me like that reflection.
It means that when I pass other people on the street or in the mall or at work who I feel look thin, I secretly hate them. I hate that they have smaller arms than me, I hate that their waist is smaller than me, I hate that they can look good in outfits that I don't feel like I can pull off. I hate them for having hair that's longer, or shorter, or fuller, or whatever than mine.
It means that I can't really appreciate or enjoy living on this beautiful island- because all I think about is how wonderful and fun the beach would be- but how I won't go because I can't stand the thought of wearing a bathing suit in public.
It means that when I walk through the grocery store, or through the food court at the mall, all I can think about is how much larger I will be if I eat any of that food. It also means that when I do have to eat, I can't focus on how great the food tastes, or even if it's providing my body with needed nutrients- all I can think about is how and when I can get away to purge it out of my system and rid my body of those horrible calories which will make me fatter.
Oh, and that's just the beginning of it.

What does it mean to you?

A Lot Going On

This weekend has been rough. My back is still hurting, but thankfully not as bad as earlier this week. Our house is VERY SLOWLY coming together, but there's still so much that needs to be done.
More than anything I'm just angry- at the world, with myself, at everything. I'm pissed that I wasn't able to get this house finished this week. I know it wasn't anyone's fault, if it weren't for my back going out, everything would be fine. None the less, the house is still a mess in many places and I can't stand it.
I'm angry with myself for not being able to work out and not watching what I've been eating better. I'm Mia through and through, so fasting isn't something that I've been able to do - but my back won't even allow me to bend over the toilet to purge. Everything that has gone in my mouth seems to have found another home somewhere on my body- my stomach, arms, face, everything seems bigger. I really hate that.
Tomorrow is my first day of physical therapy and my first day back to work- all of which I'm super nervous about. Usually I'd be okay, if not happy, about going to work. I like my job and I have a good time with the people I work with. More than anything I'm worried about having to sit for 8 hours tomorrow, with very little walking around and no where to lay down and relax my back.
On top of all that, my husband is leaving tomorrow afternoon for a conference and will be gone until Saturday - but my parents are coming to visit on Thursday. I really wanted my house to be perfect before they get here and now I don't see that happening.
Well, I better get going and try to finish a few more things. I finished painting the downstairs bathroom just a bit ago, and I got the kitchen cleaned today too. Now it's on to tackle the mess of boxes I call my bedroom.

Long Time No Blog

Since the last time that I was able to blog, so much has happened to me. As planned, my husband and I moved into our house. On Saturday, we got 90% of the house painted (only the edging left to do) and on Monday, all of our stuff was moved (by a moving company, thank God!). So- while I'd like to say that I haven't blogged for so long because I've been busy making my new house a perfect home, I'm sorry to say that isn't how I've spent my week.
On Tuesday morning I woke up ready to get to unpacking and putting every last item from boxes into their perfect place. At 9am, the cable company arrived and started working. While the cable guy started working, I went around the house trying to get some little things done. My back had been hurting over the last few days, so I was very careful not to lift heavy boxes, ect. My first "little thing" to get done, was to change the toilet paper roll in the downstairs bathroom, so I bent over.....then suddenly couldn't get up. I held onto the wall and the bathroom counter for a second, thinking the immense pain would pass, but when I tried to move, I ended up on the floor. I tried to call for the cable guy, but he was outside and couldn't hear me, so I crawled to the living room where I could reach my cell phone. I called my husband to come home from work and take me to the hospital, then called a friend to stay at the house with the cable guy. Well, when my hubby got home, we realized that I couldn't stand up, let alone walk to the car and sit- so I got to ride in an ambulance for the first time ever.
The hospital couldn't do anything for me but drug me up, so they shot me up with morphine and then sent me home with vicodine and strict instructions to take it easy.
So that's what I did- all day long. I sat on the couch and watched tv. That night, feeling gross, I decided I wanted to take a shower. My husband helped me up the stairs, helped me get undressed, then helped me get in the shower- at which point I assured him that I could handle it from there. Well, I was wrong. As soon as I got the shampoo in my hair, I realized that trying to scrub my head was more than I could handle. I held onto the walls of the shower and called for my husband. By the time he got upstairs, I was on my hands and knees in the tub floor. He helped me stand up and washed my hair for me- but when he went to grab me a towel, he turned around just in time to catch me as I blacked out in the tub. So- we were back to the hospital for like 7 more hours- and all they did was give me more drugs and send me home.
Now I'm home, can't move from the couch for more than about half an hour at a time and the boxes just aren't getting unpacked.
Arrrrrggggggghhhhhhh!!!