Over Thanksgiving week in Atlanta, I took a few spare minutes to be very sad for myself as I used to be. It was a good exercise, and not as self-indulgent as it sounds (not quite, anyway). My mom swears up and down that she is finally going to "do something" to my old bedroom, so I was tasked with setting aside whatever I didn't want chucked out or sent the way of the Goodwill. I didn't find much: a coin collection from my paternal grandparents' many travels and international homes; a Renaissance fair dress that cost me the entirety of my second-to-tenth-grades savings; an old book of Scandinavian fairy tales; plays; an astrology chart set; some old spell books (yes, you read that right: spell books).
During this excavation I came across high school pictures, which turned out to be a punch in the gut. What I couldn't get over was how fat I felt at that time. Here I was, looking at these images of my 14- to 18-year-old self, probably 105-115 lbs. and 5'1"-5'3", and I remember feeling fat when each of those pictures was taken. I thought I needed to lose weight for essentially my entire high school experience. Ridiculous. How sad to have wasted so much mental and emotional energy stressing over something that wasn't even true, and that I equated erroneously with "fixing" myself. Sad, sad, sad.
My eating disorder grew from a conviction that something was wrong with me. Plenty of girls (too many) go on diets and/or obsess about every new curve or dimple. Not all of those girls go on to develop disordered eating habits, let alone full-blown anorexia or bulimia (or both). Whatever invisible and silent divide there is between girls like I was (and am, to a certain extent) and girls who go on to say, "Eff you, buddy," to their sicker impulses: that's the Rubik's Cube of adolescent (and increasingly adult) psychology. And I'm sorry (I'm not), but I don't believe that divide has anything to do with "will power" or "choice" - regardless of which side a person inhabits. The puzzle is one of those "nature vs. nurture" or "nature, nurture et al." jumbles that shrinks may never suss out.
So while that whole mess remains a mystery, and since I've already expended so much time and energy in unraveling said mystery, I will go ahead and concentrate on enjoying what I have now. On not berating myself. On mentally giving the finger to everyone who won't STFU about diet, weight, blah blah blah. On immersing myself in reality and owning my weight and shape and health and curves the way they are now, or whenever. *cue maudlin sitcom music* And on forgiving myself allllllll the years of abuse I put myself through, both mentally and physically. *end maudlin sitcom music*
Aren't you glad that all of life's problems can be solved in a half hour or a blog post? Yeah, me too.
12/10/2008
12/08/2008
Just Keep Swimming
If it seems that my posts have been paltry lately, or few and far between, it's because they have been. I find I don't have much to say at the moment, and can't really justify posting for the sake of posting, hence Theatre Thursdays and bitching ad infinitum about the inanity of modern American grammar as practiced in the general population.
Part of the reason I haven't been writing much is that I started Cynical Nymph as an eating disorder recovery journal (interspersed with verbal diarrhea that my former therapists would tell me is all related to the e.d. anyway), and I've actually been doing remarkably well for the past three months, symptom-wise. So, I often feel there's not much to say on that front.
Note to self: It only took about 27 years, but I finally learned to spell "diarrhea" without having to think about it. I'm so proud.
Of course, there's still plenty to say. I'm at a point where it feels natural not to think about doing unnatural things (though I do keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it very well might). However, that hardly means that I am all confidence and body appreciation and self-worship over here. I'm doing my damnedest to re-train myself and my thoughts, as I spent 4 weeks in the early autumn practicing with others like myself. (Anyone in the NYC area looking for a great, unconventional e.d. support group, email me. Seriously.)
The holidays are tough. Part of this difficulty is self-fulfilling prophecy: anyone who knows about addictions even tangentially knows to be wary of relapse during the holiday season, so nerves are already on edge going in. Some of the grating-fingernails-on-a-chalkboard characteristic of the holidays is also (I think) due to the fact that they're a memorable time of year. With an eating disorder, you can remember (trust me) exactly what you looked like, felt like, fit into, didn't fit into, ate, drank, and accomplished for the previous holidays of your illness, whatever its length. I, for instance, am trying really, really hard - wading through sludge up to your waist hard - to remind myself that not only am I not anorexic* anymore, I'm also not 18 or 21 anymore, so why on Earth should I be shaped like an 18- or 21-year-old? It bears repeating (and repeating, and repeating) to myself that, "Who cares if I don't fit into blah, or have a waist measurement of blah, or have a different, larger curve to my blah blah?" My head feels like a broken record a lot of the time with the, "I am behaving naturally and healthily," and the, "my body is how it wants to be," and the, "I look great.I'm the chubbiest woman in my husband's family. I look great. I look like a cow. I look great." Very often I feel like a hamster on a wheel. But, you know, without burning the calories. Or maybe like Dory in Finding Nemo. "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming!" Ooh, now I want to watch Finding Nemo. What a kickass movie.
Happy Holidays. Be good to yourself. Just keep swimming. ^_^
*Not sure how to classify myself in terms of bulimia. Having been without symptoms for 3 months, I do believe that I can't be clinically classified at this point in time as having bulimia nervosa. So, ha ha ha, I'm cured! Someone tell BlueCross BlueShield! Oh, wait...
Part of the reason I haven't been writing much is that I started Cynical Nymph as an eating disorder recovery journal (interspersed with verbal diarrhea that my former therapists would tell me is all related to the e.d. anyway), and I've actually been doing remarkably well for the past three months, symptom-wise. So, I often feel there's not much to say on that front.
Note to self: It only took about 27 years, but I finally learned to spell "diarrhea" without having to think about it. I'm so proud.
Of course, there's still plenty to say. I'm at a point where it feels natural not to think about doing unnatural things (though I do keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it very well might). However, that hardly means that I am all confidence and body appreciation and self-worship over here. I'm doing my damnedest to re-train myself and my thoughts, as I spent 4 weeks in the early autumn practicing with others like myself. (Anyone in the NYC area looking for a great, unconventional e.d. support group, email me. Seriously.)
The holidays are tough. Part of this difficulty is self-fulfilling prophecy: anyone who knows about addictions even tangentially knows to be wary of relapse during the holiday season, so nerves are already on edge going in. Some of the grating-fingernails-on-a-chalkboard characteristic of the holidays is also (I think) due to the fact that they're a memorable time of year. With an eating disorder, you can remember (trust me) exactly what you looked like, felt like, fit into, didn't fit into, ate, drank, and accomplished for the previous holidays of your illness, whatever its length. I, for instance, am trying really, really hard - wading through sludge up to your waist hard - to remind myself that not only am I not anorexic* anymore, I'm also not 18 or 21 anymore, so why on Earth should I be shaped like an 18- or 21-year-old? It bears repeating (and repeating, and repeating) to myself that, "Who cares if I don't fit into blah, or have a waist measurement of blah, or have a different, larger curve to my blah blah?" My head feels like a broken record a lot of the time with the, "I am behaving naturally and healthily," and the, "my body is how it wants to be," and the, "I look great.
Happy Holidays. Be good to yourself. Just keep swimming. ^_^
*Not sure how to classify myself in terms of bulimia. Having been without symptoms for 3 months, I do believe that I can't be clinically classified at this point in time as having bulimia nervosa. So, ha ha ha, I'm cured! Someone tell BlueCross BlueShield! Oh, wait...
find in:
eating disorder
12/04/2008
Theatre Thursdays
Welcome back to Theatre Thursdays. I was hoping to make it a few more weeks without using Shakespeare, but who are we kidding? He refuses to be shirked for too long, and three weeks is too long.
Ah, the Percy family. Gotta love 'em. They ended up on utterly the wrong side of history, yet they have the appeal of winners because they're so... zesty. Specifically, you gotta love Lady Percy, who really knows how to play what Tranny Head might call the green beans card. Her asshat husband has been ignoring her for two weeks straight while he gets up to some rebellious antics with her brother (not a euphemism). So not only is this gal not getting laid, which is basically her only power play in Renaissance England, she's also being kept out of all the fun civil war plans just because she has ovaries.
"Nuh-uh," is her take on that, "I'm a Mortimer [another feisty ancient family on the wrong side of the Wars of the Roses], and I won't take your shite. You are gonna tell me what's up, or else." So here, she butters him up but good by using the only weapon she has: green beans... and by surreptitiously calling him a little girly man for having bad dreams.
Oh, and later in the scene she threatens to break his dick off. This betty is pure pep.
LADY PERCY: O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offense have I this fortnight been
A banished woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watched,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talked
Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
Like bubbles in a late-disturbèd stream,
And in thy face strange motions have appeared,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Henry IV, part 1
Act II, scene iv
Ah, the Percy family. Gotta love 'em. They ended up on utterly the wrong side of history, yet they have the appeal of winners because they're so... zesty. Specifically, you gotta love Lady Percy, who really knows how to play what Tranny Head might call the green beans card. Her asshat husband has been ignoring her for two weeks straight while he gets up to some rebellious antics with her brother (not a euphemism). So not only is this gal not getting laid, which is basically her only power play in Renaissance England, she's also being kept out of all the fun civil war plans just because she has ovaries.
"Nuh-uh," is her take on that, "I'm a Mortimer [another feisty ancient family on the wrong side of the Wars of the Roses], and I won't take your shite. You are gonna tell me what's up, or else." So here, she butters him up but good by using the only weapon she has: green beans... and by surreptitiously calling him a little girly man for having bad dreams.
Oh, and later in the scene she threatens to break his dick off. This betty is pure pep.
LADY PERCY: O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offense have I this fortnight been
A banished woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watched,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talked
Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
Like bubbles in a late-disturbèd stream,
And in thy face strange motions have appeared,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Henry IV, part 1
Act II, scene iv
find in:
drama major
11/27/2008
Theatre Thursdays
Welcome back to Theatre Thursdays. For this second edition, we're already shaking it up, because we're crazy like that. The following isn't actually a monologue, per se; it's a poem. But I 100% used it AS a monologue in a performance piece, so it 100% counts. Let's have at it.
SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
by Maggie Estep
I am THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
so don't mess with me
I've got a big bag full of SEX TOYS
and you can't have any
'cause they're all mine
'cause I'm
the SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE.
"Hey," you may say to yourself,
"who the hell's she tryin' to kid,
she's no sex goddess,"
But trust me,
I am
if only for the fact that I have
the unabashed gall
to call
myself a SEX GODDESS,
I mean, after all,
it's what so many of us have at some point thought,
we've all had someone
who worshipped our filthy socks
and barked like a dog when we were near
giving us cause
to pause and think: You know, I may not look like much
but deep inside, I am a SEX GODDESS.
Only
we'd never come out and admit it publicly
well, you wouldn't admit it publicly
but I will
because I am
THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE.
I haven't always been
a SEX GODDESS
I used to be just a mere mortal woman
but I grew tired of sexuality being repressed
then manifest
in late night 900 number ads
where 3 bodacious bimbettes
heave cleavage into the camera's winking lens and sigh:
"Big Girls oooh, Bad Girls oooh, Blonde Girls oooh,
you know what to do, call 1-900-UNMITIGATED BIMBO ooooh."
Yeah
I got fed up with the oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh
I got fed up with it all
so I put on my combat boots
and hit the road with my bag full of SEX TOYS
that were a vital part of my SEX GODDESS image
even though I would never actually use
my SEX TOYS
'cause my being a SEX GODDESS
it isn't a SEXUAL thing
it's a POLITICAL thing
I don't actually have SEX, no
I'm too busy taking care of
important SEX GODDESS BUSINESS,
yeah,
I gotta go on The Charlie Rose Show
and MTV and become a parody
of myself and make
buckets full of money off my own inane brand
of self-righteous POP PSYCHOLOGY
because my pain is different
because I am a SEX GODDESS
and when I talk,
people listen
why ?
Because, you guessed it,
I AM THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
and you're not.
SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
by Maggie Estep
I am THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
so don't mess with me
I've got a big bag full of SEX TOYS
and you can't have any
'cause they're all mine
'cause I'm
the SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE.
"Hey," you may say to yourself,
"who the hell's she tryin' to kid,
she's no sex goddess,"
But trust me,
I am
if only for the fact that I have
the unabashed gall
to call
myself a SEX GODDESS,
I mean, after all,
it's what so many of us have at some point thought,
we've all had someone
who worshipped our filthy socks
and barked like a dog when we were near
giving us cause
to pause and think: You know, I may not look like much
but deep inside, I am a SEX GODDESS.
Only
we'd never come out and admit it publicly
well, you wouldn't admit it publicly
but I will
because I am
THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE.
I haven't always been
a SEX GODDESS
I used to be just a mere mortal woman
but I grew tired of sexuality being repressed
then manifest
in late night 900 number ads
where 3 bodacious bimbettes
heave cleavage into the camera's winking lens and sigh:
"Big Girls oooh, Bad Girls oooh, Blonde Girls oooh,
you know what to do, call 1-900-UNMITIGATED BIMBO ooooh."
Yeah
I got fed up with the oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh
I got fed up with it all
so I put on my combat boots
and hit the road with my bag full of SEX TOYS
that were a vital part of my SEX GODDESS image
even though I would never actually use
my SEX TOYS
'cause my being a SEX GODDESS
it isn't a SEXUAL thing
it's a POLITICAL thing
I don't actually have SEX, no
I'm too busy taking care of
important SEX GODDESS BUSINESS,
yeah,
I gotta go on The Charlie Rose Show
and MTV and become a parody
of myself and make
buckets full of money off my own inane brand
of self-righteous POP PSYCHOLOGY
because my pain is different
because I am a SEX GODDESS
and when I talk,
people listen
why ?
Because, you guessed it,
I AM THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
and you're not.
find in:
drama major
11/25/2008
International Day for the Elimination of Violece Against Women
Just so you know, it's today.
Just some things to think about:
http://www.un.org/womenwatch/daw/news/vawd.html
http://www.smh.com.au/news/national/new-tool-to-fight-domestic-violence/2008/11/25/1227491548468.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/7747601.stm
http://globalnation.inquirer.net/news/breakingnews/view/20081125-174258/1-in-3-women-abused-in-her-lifetime--UN
http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2008%5C11%5C25%5Cstory_25-11-2008_pg7_42
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/1040235.html
http://www.reliefweb.int/rw/rwb.nsf/db900SID/FBUO-7LQE86?OpenDocument
Just some things to think about:
http://www.un.org/womenwatch/daw/news/vawd.html
http://www.smh.com.au/news/national/new-tool-to-fight-domestic-violence/2008/11/25/1227491548468.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/7747601.stm
http://globalnation.inquirer.net/news/breakingnews/view/20081125-174258/1-in-3-women-abused-in-her-lifetime--UN
http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2008%5C11%5C25%5Cstory_25-11-2008_pg7_42
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/1040235.html
http://www.reliefweb.int/rw/rwb.nsf/db900SID/FBUO-7LQE86?OpenDocument
find in:
feminism
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