The Revolving Door

Good-bye ED, hello OCD. I have an addictive personality it appears. I need to fill a void in my life with something or other that doesn't really do anything to make me a better, more complete person. I've filled it with various EDs, depression (melancholic depression to be specific), and OCD. At the moment it's OCD. How does OCD affect me? I think of it as having three parts. First, there is the part that makes me obsessed with organization. My closet has been color-coded. Everything in my pantry sits at right angles. After somebody takes something out and doesn't put it back right, I have to fix it. I keep papers in neat stacks. Sometimes alphabetized, sometimes by date. I can't decide which I prefer so I spend precious time re-doing them.

I make lists. This complete waste of paper sees me making lists such as what I am going to do for the day, what I am going to do for the rest of my life, my least favorite and favorite foods, or maybe things I would like to buy if money were no object. These lists litter my desk, which drives me crazy, because I must be organized. So I file them, put them in folders, decide that that is ridiculous, throw them away, then start all over again. Lists of the rest of my life are the most dangerous to me. As soon as something threatens my "master plan" I feel that I am spiralling out of control. This leads to my falling back into depression, and ultimately, ED.

Lastly, I have fears. They paralyze me, they terrify me. By and large these fears are totally irrational and I know it. But I still can't stop them and shut them out completely. They hinder me socially, because I fear rejection and because I fear some kind of "contamination." As if other people are carrying some sort of virus. Above all else, I fear winding up alone in life, unloved and uncared for. And it would all be my fault.

OCD is made fun of a lot. I think that it is just about as misunderstood as ED. That is why I can't exactly express my issues openly. People just do not get it. They are too often bewildered by the strangeness of what goes on inside the workings of my mind. So I battle alone essentially, although I would be amiss not acknowledge the support I get from those I know that also fight these issues. Today I feel good and hopeful, so maybe just writing all of this and getting it out is helping. I'm going to find the root of everything one of these days, and when I do, I'm going to kick its ass.

Love, Colette

An Apology

Yesterday I wrote a rant in which I nearly lost my mind. I know that on a "normal" day I've got more than a few screws loose, but I wouldn't ever call myself a raving lunatic. But I was yesterday. The highlights of this rant (which rather than post I deleted) include:

- that I hate my body and every pound on it
- that I hate my body and how every pound on it looks
- that I hate myself because I am completely unattractive
- that I hate myself because I am too "lazy" to start starving myself again
- that if my body didn't exist, I'd be much, much happier

Sounds terribly interesting doesn't it? It's self-destructive and self-indulgent, and I can't stand that I can feel that way. In fact, I apologize for ever feeling that way. I apologize for writing a rant that could have been very triggering to somebody. I apologize because I'm really not the person who wrote that rant. Somebody else resides within me, the conglomeration of my demons so to speak. For these demons I am so sorry. For letting them take control over, for giving them the upper hand, I am sorry.

This abusive relationship I have with ED really needs to end. I know I'm clinging onto the last shreds of it. I have everything to gain by letting go. What do I lose? A slew of disgusting, vile, harmful, and sad behaviours.

Love, Colette

p.s. Christmas was okay.

Twas the Day Before Christmas

My feet ache. I was out all day yesterday, shopping, walking around, getting pushed, and being shoved. I should have brought food with me for this treacherous journey, but I didn't. I wound up ordering the ONLY thing I ever feel comfortable getting while out - black coffee. Coffee is not food replacement, but I suppose it's better than nothing. I just can't get myself to have some real food while out, I don't know when, if ever, I will be comfortable with it. The same feelings also apply to Christmas cookies. I'm surrounded by them here. I feel them staring at me, daring me to eat them. Sitting on a holiday plate, mocking me with their sight, their smell. I. Just. Can't. Funny thing is, I did eat them last year when I was still restricting. I did it as a big show. "Look! I'm eating this cookie, I'm not sick!" Nobody ever knew what measures I took for letting them pass my lips though. So, in general, I suppose I'm healthier not eating them and eating plenty of other stuff.

My birthday went very well. The cake was made to my specifications, i.e. no butter/frosting. Thankfully my late, beloved great-grandmother handed down a delicious chocolate cake recipe made with oil, so my family doesn't make a big deal about my requesting it. Without having food/cake weighing on my mind, I allowed myself to have a good time. A friend of my parents stopped by for a few seconds and jokingly called me "skin and bones." Whatever. I'm not going to waste my time worrying that I'm too thin to some people and too fat to my ED voice. I'm fine the way I am.

I've got some baking to do today, so I have something to eat for Christmas morn, and I have some wrapping to do as well. Both baking and wrapping trigger my OCD, so I'll do my best to just take it easy and not obsess. I want to have a wonderful Christmas tomorrow, I want everyone to. I don't care if you don't celebrate Christmas, I want everyone to have a day that is not ruled with whatever you suffer from. Just a day of peace on earth.

Love, Colette

Poem for a Birthday - Sylvia Plath

What is it, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?

I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking

'Is this the one I am to appear for,
Is this the elect one, the one with black eye pits and a scar?

Measuring the flour, cutting off the surplus,
Adhering to rules, to rules, to rules.

Is this the one for the annunciation?
My god, what a laugh!'

But it shimmers, it does not stop, and I think it wants me.
I would not mind if it were bones, or a pearl button.

I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
After all I am alive only by accident.

I would have killed myself gladly that time any possible way.
Now there are these veils, shimmering like curtains.

The diaphanous satins of a January window
White as babies' bedding and glittering with dead breath. O ivory!

It must be a tusk there, a ghost column.
Can you not see I do not mind what it is.

Can you not give it to me?
Do not be ashamed--I do not mind if it is small.

Do not be mean, I am ready for enormity.
Let us sit down to it, one on either side, admiring the gleam,

The glaze, the mirrory variety to it.
Let us eat our last supper at it, like a hospital plate.

I know why you will not give it to me,
You are terrified.

The world will go up in a shriek, and your head with it,
Bossed, brazen, an antique shield,

A marvel to your great-grandchildren.
Do not be afraid, it is not so.

I will only take it and go aside quietly.
You will not hear me opening it, no paper crackle.

No falling ribbons, no scream at the end.
I do not think you credit me with this discretion.

If you only knew how the veils were killing my days.
To you they are only transparencies, clear air.

But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
Armies of them. They are carbon monoxide.

Sweetly, sweetly I breathe in,
Filling my veins with invisibles, with the million

Probable motes that tick the years off my life.
You are silver-suited for the occasion. O adding machine-----

Is it impossible for you to let something go and have it go whole?
Must you stamp each piece purple,

Must you kill what you can?
There is only one thing I want today, and only you can give it to me.

It stands at my window, big as the sky.
It breathes from my sheets, the cold dead center

Where split lives congeal and stiffen to history.
Let it not come by the mail, finger to finger.

Let it not come by word of mouth, I should be sixty
By the time the whole of it was delivered, and too numb to use it.

Only let down the veil, the veil, the veil.
If it were death

I would admire the deep gravity of it, its timeless eyes.
I would know you were serious.

There would be a nobility then, there would be a birthday.
And the knife not carve, but enter

Pure and clean as the cry of a baby,
And the universe slide from my side.

Tempted by the Devil

The devil being the binge monster. Admittedly I've been a little lower on my food intake, not on purpose though. So I'm looking at the candy and chocolates my mom asked me to keep for my brother's stocking with great interest. The fact that I would have to explain to my mom and ultimately to my brother does not initially enter my mind. I once binged on his Easter candy. And gave a totally unconvincing, but apparently believed, explanation that I thought it was mine. I don't want to ever binge on somebody else's food again. Actually, I don't want to binge again period. Must make an effort to say no. Must make an effort to eat properly instead, not matter how little time I have.

I can't believe I turn 18 day after tomorrow. My birthday has completely snuck up on me this year. I'm not sure what to do to prepare myself. I need some kind of coping strategy. I don't want to make a plan, but if any little detail goes wrong in a plan I make, the whole plan goes down the tubes because I start to freak out. I just need to know how to deal with shutting out old, horrible, birthday memories as well as shutting up the ED voice. I made over a dress for me to wear and I stood looking at it after I was done with the ED voice telling me I was too fat to fit into it. False. I have no conception of what my body looks like.

I got my very first grade back from college. It's an A. Semi-proud, but at the same time I have a let-down feeling. I do feel really good about the fact that my paper, that I wrote in the witching hour of night, was the best in the class. I'm not letting myself bask in the glow of a good grade too long. I'm already thinking ahead to next semester. I got into two classes that are hard to get into: Women in American History and Intro to Shakespeare.My heart skips a beat just thinking about them. SO excited. I go back on January 12.

Love, Colette

Murphy's Law

Everything that can go wrong on the very last day of finals will. I left the house without an umbrella and got caught in a torrential downpour that left me looking like a drowned rat and feeling really, really cold. I also left the house without food, which is disastrous because I never bring money with me for fear of a binge. So I was starving and cold. I felt awful before all of this happened, so you can imagine just how badly things were going. Somehow or other I made it through the final, and I think I did well. Cautiously optimistic.

I had scheduled an appointment with a counselor after my final, to discus next semester's courses, and that went awry as well. I guess we just didn't hit it off. She seemed really pissed off at me the moment I entered her office and was really pushing me to take classes I don't want. I wasn't about to tell her how I would find a class on nutrition that "emphasizes caloric intake" massively triggering. Nor did I want to tell her that I wasn't taking swimming because I don't want to get into a bathing suit. She also didn't seem to understand that I wanted some time in between at least one class where I could eat. Maybe I should have told her about my ED, but she did nothing to make me trust her enough to do that. I finally just left and chose my classes with my dad's help and without hers. I register tonight, and I'm really excited about most of them!

Running on Empty, Almost

I am sleep-deprived. I stayed up the entire night re-writing an essay on Benedictine monks. I was, in essence, channeling my inner monk, for I was certainly displaying asceticism. I had written four of the worst pages I ever wrote, so for the sake of my sanity I had to re-write the entire thing. I feel better, but at the same time worse. I look a wreck and I need SLEEP. I have to get up early tomorrow too...

I really look forward to the end of the semester. Its finish will mean that I SURVIVED my first college experience without a major relapse into ED. I have lived in fear of that happening. Yes, I've had a few hiccups. But no major spiral. If I can keep this up I feel I can really make strides against ED. I just realized that in another month or so it will be one year since I truly entered "recovery." I'll admit that I'd tried countless times to recover, but it never stuck the way this time has. I think I really owe it to the support I've received, as well as somewhat convincing myself that I am worth recovery. Also, I want to live. Really live, not just breathing, but living with all my senses.

Love, Colette

Circles and Japanese Textiles

Note: I've been far too focused on my ED as of late and I apologize. Although it is very cathartic for me to get my feelings out, it is also very self-indulgent. So onto something else.

Now that I have introduced one of my major muses, Mary Blair, let me unveil another influence: Japanese textiles. My affinity for any fabric goes back many, many years. Fabric designer has even been a potential career path for me. Putting my basic love of fabric aside, what I find particularly fascinating about Japanese fabric is the use of circles in the designs, as well as the unconventional color combinations.


The depictions of nature in these textiles are not meant to be accurate. This freedom from accuracy allows the freedom of color.

This fabric captures my interest for a few reasons. I love the use of the green roses, which do not occur in nature in that shade. I also like the almost stained glass composition of the roses. They look a bit like they are carved. There is something almost medieval about them. Also, notice the amount of variation there is in it despite the very limited color palette.

The below picture also inspires me. This one incorporates pretty much perfectly round circles into nature in a way that doesn't look awkward. Again, the color palette is limited. I love the gold and the black together, and then the way the totally unrelated color of blue is used in the background.

The color theory in Japanese textiles is pretty simple. It doesn't have to be found in nature to be used in a re-creation of nature. Don't use too many colors, but keep contrast for texture and depth. Rules don't really apply, just use your imagination. I find that VERY inspiring. Don't you all get tired of the rules?

p.s. I know it's kind of hard to see, but I just adore the fact that some of the trees in this fabric are upside down!

I Should Be Doing Something Else...

But here I am. I ought to be working on my essays, but I'm at a total standstill with them. I find that when I try to write when I'm at that point, all I say is a total waste. I think I'm going to manage to get everything done on time, get good grades and all, but I will be so relieved when it is all over. Fighting a restriction urge, for three days in a row now I've skipped a meal, only to have to try and make up for it in the evening. I hate doing that; I've got a stupid hangup about eating in the evening because of all the diet crap I've read over the years that has told me that eating then will make me fat. NOT TRUE. Still not looking forward to it anyways.

Asides from all of that fun stuff, I'm kind of excited. My dad and I are heading up the Sierra Nevada tomorrow for our annual trek to find a Christmas tree. I will use the fact that I will be mucking around in the mud and such for a couple of hours as motivation to fuel my body. I know only to well from last year how bad it feels not to fuel yourself. So I'll spend tomorrow all bundled up and, hopefully, having a lovely time!

Love, Colette

Sigh

So, where am I now? I am somewhere in limbo between being vaguely happy and being hopelessly depressed. Being busy with finals has helped, but I know that I am just allowing myself to put off dealing with whatever the root of my depression is. Burying myself in books and notes is not the solution.

I'm going to be 18 in a little over two weeks. My birthday has never been a happy time for me, unless you go WAAAAY back to when I was about 11. I want it to be a good day so much, but can I really make it that way? I wonder sometimes if I subconsciously sabotage myself merely because I don't want to succeed and feel good about myself. Do I crave, deep down, the drama of being out of control?

I don't know where all of this is going. Maybe I've simply got too much on my plate, no pun intended, and I am having a hard time dealing with so much. I'm strong enough for one stressful thing, maybe two, but this barrage of stresses is obviously getting to me. What to do about it?

Depression is a Bitch

This is about the time that I sound off on all the less nice things about myself, so be warned.

I find it amazing how I can swing from feeling confident, fairly happy, and optimistic to utterly depressed, gloomy, and certain that my world is crumbling to pieces. And I am also certain I am FAT. Logically I do know that fat I am not, but there is no room for logic in a mind infested with the voice of doom.

Sometimes I don't want to live. I don't mean I want to die, but that I just think it would be nice to take a break from the necessity of living, surviving. I also feel I have nothing to look forward to, no goal or aim. According to the medical world I've done it, I've beaten anorexia. So the goal of beating it is no more. Even when I was in the worst of my ED I had a goal, maybe not a healthy one, but a goal nonetheless. I need to think about the future, but I guess I am afraid. I don't know what I am, except I feel terribly, terribly lost.

I hope I don't bring anybody down today. Love, Colette

Edit - I am feeling a LOT better right now. I have an awful, massive headache and wish the day was over, but I don't feel as demoralized. I need to take things one day at a time instead of wanting my entire life mapped out before me. I'm fighting my way out of this.

I Have Confidence in Me

Despite having an enormous amount of work to do, fighting a very strong voice in my head telling me not to eat, and my usual litany of problems, I feel strong and confident. This is all because, for the first time in what must be forever, I started a debate in class. After a short, but I felt beneficial phone conversation with a friend, I marched forth and did not allow myself to fear my own voice. Let me put it this way, the novel The Road is not all it's cracked up to be and certainly was not worthy of the Pulitzer Prize. A discussion was then started on the most significant novels of the past 100 years, which I am supposed to write my own list of for next class. Excited about that.

So you know what? By proving that I won't fall on my face by speaking out, I just may not fear doing it so much in the future. Interestingly, I nearly literally fell on my face as I was leaving class by getting caught in the computer wires. My professor found this infinitely funny, but then he's a strange guy.

Love, Colette

An Ode to Mary Blair

I adore the artwork of Mary Blair, with all of its wonderfully childlike flair. For those who are not aware of her, she is most famous for her work at Disney during the 1950's. She worked there as a "concept" designer. This job saw her creating the original sketches for "Alice in Wonderland," "Cinderella," and "Peter Pan." Unfortunately, by the time these movies reached the screen, Blair's original visions were often so diluted and altered that they bear little resemblence to her true style. They are not an accurate account of her work, as they have lost her whimsical touch.

This is a charming sketch of Blair's for "Alice in Wonderland." It provides an excellent study of composition. I love the way the slant of the teapots and the chair draw the eye of the viewer to the rabbit, while the steam emitting from the teapot brings the Mad Hatter to attention. To further ensure that the eye takes in the entire picture, white is used at each of the four corners. Texture rather than proper perspective adds depth.

While Blair usually worked with a variety of colors and high contrast, she also worked in monochromatic tones on occasion. Doing this is actually much harder than one would imagine, but she mastered it very well. In this other sketch for "Alice in Wonderland," the shades of pink blend together, but not to the point that the scene becomes non-existant. I find this next sketch, from "Peter Pan," particularly inspiring. The shades of grey used are usuallyreserved for rather drab, if not depressing, scenes. However, this scene is actually quite different from that and when I look at it I find it very happy.

Mary Blair's work is to me like escapism. They exude cheer and lift my mood. Blair's style is a trifle, well, flat, and it lacks the sophistication of her Disney peer, Eyvind Earle (I'll get to him another time), but her work does serve as an inspiration for me.

Flurry of Activity and Creativity

Sometimes I am absolutely possessed by a physical need to a. clean, and b. draw. I've dusted, vacuumed, and organized to my heart's content and feel happy that I'll be starting off the week with my room in perfect order. School starts again tomorrow and I am really looking forward to returning to my routine. Whenever I get breaks I feel like I don't know what to do. It's like a birthday present you get but don't want. It's still a present and nice, but there's no joy in it.

I've also been doing some good sketching today. I completed two small pictures and started a larger one amidst preparing dinner for myself, which was very good by the way. I'm currently quite inspired by nature, particularly barren nature when it is stripped of its aesthetically pleasing aspects, i.e. leaves and flowers. Remove the trappings and see what is real. Leaves and flowers die with the season, but the plant remains. The plant is life, the plant is real.

Anyways, that is what I am up to right now. I am thinking of going to bed early with some poetry and a hot water bottle. And a snack. Life's not too bad.

Love, Colette

Good Morning, Bon Jour, Buenos Dias, Buon Giorno, Guten Morgen

I suppose I must introduce myself, although I am not at all good at doing so. My name is Colette, and some random things about myself are that I drink a lot of tea and coffee, I like the smell of freshly mowed lawn, I read anything that will stay still for long enough, and I consider myself an artist. Creating art is my way of expressing of myself and I hope to share some of my works on here at some point.

I have an eating disorder. Some might think that eating disorders are glamorous, but they are not. There are many, many misconceptions about eating disorders out there, and I'm sure I will address them all sometime, most likely in an incomprehensible rant, but I don't want to now. I'm just giving anybody out there fair warning that I deal with this issue and will discuss it frankly and honestly.

So, why do I have a blog? Well, I'm socially inept, which means that, aside from some incredible cyber friends, I don't have anybody to share my thoughts with. I think a lot, but inevitably say little, so this is where I plan on doing some saying!

Love, Colette