Mental Illness Awareness Week Post - Trigger Warning

This may be one of the most raw and vulnerable post I have posted besides 5 years ago when I finally posted about my struggle with mental illness and an eating disorder.  This is a very personal post and one I did feel shame towards, self judgement, scared of 'your' judgement.  I took deep breaths and just started typing. This has been something I have been wanting to get off my chest and took it has a sign that maybe it is time since it is Mental Illness Awareness Week. This is another piece that hopefully will help those not feel alone during this continous time of uncertainty. So, here we go.

I am currently hooked up to an IV for an iron infusion at a cancer institute in Charlotte, NC.  Why did I have to state where I was?  To bring more awareness of how serious mental/eating disorders can be. This is my second time having to go through this.  I had two rounds last September and I am unfortunately back this October for 5 rounds of iron infusions.  Yes, I am severely anemic which can happen to anyone.  Mine has been both:  a person that has anemia and also malnutrition for years upon years of dealing with an eating disorder.  Going back to the beginning 2019, I had to get my blood drawn 12 times in the span of 2 months due to my vitals be severely low.  I was even told by a nurse over the phone that if it gets any lower, we may have to look at a blood transfusion.  Iron pills were not working.  So, having a nurse tell me that, why didn't that scare me?  Why didn't that wake me up and realize how serious this was getting? My E.D. was basically breaking down my organs now more than ever to the possibility of everything shutting down.    The eating disorder part of my mind heard, 'yes, we are winning, let's keep going to see how far we can get.'  My logical mind was like WTF Tracey.  What are you doing to yourself?!  Why was your first thoughts happy ones?  Again, the eating disorder was back in control and we thrive off of knowing that.  Very, very, sad.  What is also very sad, I didn't want to get the infusions, I wanted to see how low they could get before I had to go to the hospital.  Maybe then people will see I am really struggling and in-turn, that gives me the external validation that I am not invisible.  I am cared about.  Why does it take something that is literally breaking down your insides something we want attention for? Friends, family, whoever is reading this, I know, it sucks, because logically I know that is not the case. Not to mention the numerous phone calls with my family and especially with my mom. I cannot even fathom what it would be like hearing your daughter saying the things about herself that I say to her. Your subconscious mind loves to win. Thinking back on some of the most scary things a doctor can tell you, in 2015 I was told with the amount of stress and pressure I continue to put on my heart with my E.D. behaviors, I could possible have a heart attack. Only a few people in this world have known that but, here I am going deep. That statement is what put me in treatment the first time around.

I did end up getting the 2 rounds of infusions because when I was in treatment last year, and I will be forever grateful for my dietitian who made me get my blood checked in the first place, I did not realize how important iron was in your body.  "Iron is a mineral that the body needs for growth and development. Your body uses iron to make hemoglobin, a protein in red blood cells that carries oxygen from the lungs to all parts of the body, and myoglobin, a protein that provides oxygen to muscles. Your body also needs iron to make some hormones." With the amount of stress I have put on my heart and organs to try to continue to produce oxygen with little to no red blood cells for years, my doctor(s) looked at me and said they were shocked I have been able to function in everyday life for this long. Without iron, this situation could get to the worst of it all, not being here.  For years I've dealt with random leg bruises, always feeling tired, no matter how much sleep or energy I would have, under my eyes stayed purple, I was always a little foggy headed and some days I could barely focus in a conversation and form sentences.  My hands and feet ALWAYS cold.  If you've been around me, ice. Chewing ice gave me so much relief. I would get so much anxiety if I could not get a cup of ice wherever I was. I would have to stop at gas stations while driving just to get a cup of ice. If I ran out of ice from my freezer, I would FREAK. I have ALWAYS thought it was my eating disorder. I never thought about the actual lack of nutrients in my body that affects the entire functionality of everything. I would rather try and look a certain way than focus my attention on that and just let my depression and anxiety take over.  I was not knowledgeable enough on iron to realize that those were symtoms for anemia. Once I received the infusions, I did start to feel better, my energy was increasing, I was more clear headed, and was basically like OHHH wow, this is what life is like.  I did still have in the back of my mind, is my eating disorder going to go away now?  Do I have the possibility of gaining weight because of IRON?!?!  Again, sad.

Well, unfortunately it was more of a band aid of iron and I did not keep up with increasing the amount of iron and other nutrients after I was done.  Here I was, beginning of 2020, back to feeling the dizziness, permenant bags under my eyes, bruises appearing on my legs, foggy headed, and extreme tiredness.  What the hell was I doing to myself again?  My eating disorder was back to winning.  It doesn't want to go away yet.  So, what did that lead to?  LOW numbers when I had to get numerous blood work done required by my doctor the past few months.  I got the call again that I need to have iron infusions.  This time, not just 2 rounds, but FIVE.  It is a different type of iron I am having this time.  Why can't I just eat more foods with iron and other nutrients? That is like asking why is the sky blue.  Why am I so scared to hear the words, EAT MORE, and that makes me not want to get more iron.  I am sick and tired of having an infusion be a band aid.  I keep having to tell myself, Tracey - this is not normal.  People do not just go get infusions.  THIS IS SERIOUS SO TAKE IT SERIOUSLY, your life could depend on it. I have already heard the words 'You could have died' earlier this year when I had to undergo a traumatic, emergency surgery in my abdominal area (nothing to do with my ED but one of the scariest moments of my life. Everything went very smooth and have a scar that reminds me I have a lot of life to live). Am I seriously hearing it again, but this is something I have control over, to eat.

I believe I have woken up this time around and realizing, I cannot spend my life going through this.  Sitting here, yet again, dealing with this.  I have another 3 rounds and I have got to continue to eat more so I am not back here for the third year in a row.

I mentioned where I was earlier because hearing that I am in a cancer institute, I hope that wakes up society in how serious mental illness and eating disorders can be.  They deserve more attention because I stay teary eyed every time I am hear knowing I am beside someone who is dealing with cancer.  I can't fathom or believe this is where I am and on the same floor of some of the strongest people alive fighting a battle everyday.  But again, here is also someone who battles extreme depression, anxiety, and eating disorder right beside them.  Both cases are serious. Scary part? No one would know without me sharing that I am going through this. You can't see mental health by looking at someone.

so, again, I cannot believe I am sharing this as I went way deeper than I thought. I hope I don't regret this.  I hope the fear of rejection, judgement, paranoia of posting this does not make me take this down. Will a guy read this and think 'oh dear God this girl has some baggage to bring to the table,' and end up alone. But damn Trace. I need to give myself some grace and compassion for doing this. For continuing to put my struggle out there for whoever to read. Never did I EVER see this coming in how much I want to create awareness but also do not want my identity to just be someone who deals with mental illness. I am more than that.  I hope this helps those who struggle and also an educational piece.  It's the harsh reality but I am motivated that this will be the last time, that this will be enough to silience the demon. That this will not be a band aid.

Fearless: Being Terrified But Jumping Anyway

Dr. Lineberger and I after my very last treatment appointment!  Good as new.
And just a chance for us to be the gansters that we are.

Drake, Biggie Smalls, baller flat screen TVs in every work space, a slide that is two stories high, branded t-shirts, and my favorite, Carolina Panthers inspired promotional material.  Bet you would never guess I am talking about my dentist office that I go to here in Charlotte.  Why am I telling ya'll this?  Because this post is all about facing your fears, being fearless, continuing to take recovery head-on.  But why the dentist?  What does this have to do with recovery and my journey in living life to its absolute fullest.  Sit back and get comfy, I'll tell you.

I wasn't joking.

I've been holding back something that I have been so embarrassed to tell anyone.  Now I'm sure there are far worse things that I could be holding on to out of pure shame but this one is something I could never let out, never let anyone know, until recently.  After all of these years of torturing myself, going to therapy, going to treatment, this never seemed to come up because I wanted to hold on to at least one thing I still had control over.  Enough babbling so here it goes, my biggest avoidance of all, even after shouting to the world I had been battling an eating disorder, was that I was so shameful, so fearful, of going to the dentist and I have tucked that away for 10+ years.  I hadn't been to the dentist since 2005 because that is the year this kind of all started.  WHY?  WHY would I not want to take care of my teeth of all things, why not go get them cleaned and exam-ed, make sure nothing is arising.  I still get this overwhelming feeling of just shame and embarrassment of just typing this out and letting everyone reading this know.  As I said since the very beginning, this is my place to come and just let it all out. After living my entire life with a mental disorder and what seems to be living behind a mask, trying so desperately to be someone I'm not, there is something so freeing of now telling my story that I will forever be writing and sharing it with the world.

So, back on track, the dentist.  Now that we are all caught up of one of my most avoided fears, how did I finally get myself to go?  Well it definitely wasn't just one morning I woke up and called to make an appointment.  Hell No.  This came with time.  Something that I have struggled with in recovery.  I keep telling myself to "trust the process" but on some days those words just aren't enough.  Having to fight a demon inside your head 24/7, 365 gets quite exhausting and some days I just want to throw in the towel and say you win.  The beast is too strong.  I can't fight anymore.  Those are the days where you test your will-power, your hunger to how bad you want recovery.  Luckily, I am still here, talking to you and not back in treatment, and trust me there have been some close calls.  I want so badly to stay in recovery and to continue to get to know more about this "Tracey" I am learning about every day.  This Tracey is kind of cool in wanting nothing more but to live life and help others along the way.  Do I want my subconscious mind to take all the hard work I have been doing for the past 2 years away?  Again, it sounds wayyyyyy easier said than done but...I'm here, and timing could not have been more perfect.  Throughout the past two years of hardcore therapy, I am challenged to get out of my comfort zone daily.  They give me task or "homework" and it is up to me if I want to get it done.  From ordering what I really want off the menu and not just what I think has the fewest calories, which basically is always a salad, to wearing casual clothes to my appointments and not gym clothes, don't work out two days in a row, to saying a simple 'no' when I always say 'yes', these little challenges were stepping stones to get to where I am today.  Tackle a few at a time and continue to play the game of being fearless.  Talk about control and avoidance, I even kept my dentist fear a secret from my team of doctors for the past few years, even before treatment.  I knew I was about to lose all control of my eating disorder and if I kept this with me, maybe I will still get fulfillment out of my day knowing I still had one up on them.  After slowly checking my homework off, one at a time, it came time to tackle the one I kept from them all.  Something just told me it was time.

A couple of months ago it just started eating away at me, probably because after dealing with all the other shit I had to go through as far as challenges, peeling the onion you could say, it came to the layer of  the dentist.  So, the next appointment I had with my therapist I just sat down and flat out said, I haven't been to the dentist in 10 years.  She had a deer-like look in her eyes and not really knowing where this came from or what to say.  I took a deep breath afterwards and just sat back and was about to enjoy the ride of getting me to make an appointment.  We took it one step at a time, first question she asked me was why?  This is what I told myself, the dentist would be the one person who could possibly tell what I had been doing.  He/she could tell I had been throwing up or not taking care of myself by the looks of my teeth and mouth.  They would be the ones who would tell my parents something was going on with me or just look me in the eyes and ask why my teeth are rotting away from the acid and plaque build up (because I had painted a picture in my mind that my teeth were this bad).  They would be the ones to make my eating disorder go away and I didn't want it to.  I'm telling you, if one person even hinted towards me that something was up with my eating habits or exercise habits or losing weight, I would get irate because it was like someone attacking your best friend or husband or wife and you would do anything, say anything to make them think the complete opposite and that everything was fine.  My eating disorder is what kept my alive and kept me from reality.  There was no way in hell I was letting someone take that away from me.  So, I let the years go on of avoiding what I was most fearful of, an office where everything would come out.  I told my parents, "yea, yea I'll make an appointment," and pretend to go, but I knew that was no way to go on with my life.  I kept telling myself if I was strong enough to put my life on pause and go to the world of unknown to Denver, CO for treatment, I could certainly bring myself to making a dentist appointment.

I started asking around what dentist my friends would recommend, look some up on the internet, and I kept hearing about this one dentist office where it is like the coolest vibe, dentist is young and awesome, atmosphere is one out of a modern-day coffee shop or swanky bar, and there is hip-hop playing all the time.  Well, as great as that sounded I was scared to death to go to somewhere like that because I felt like I wasn't good enough or worthy enough.  I would be so embarrassed to go in to an office with people around my age and have to tell complete strangers why it has been so long since I have been to the dentist and worse, what they would find was wrong.  When I realized this office was literally about .5 mile away from my place, God was basically shoving me out the door to go.  I had a therapy appointment the day before my appointment and I prepared for the worst.  I told myself that my teeth were probably in the worst condition that they will ever see, mouth full of cavities, will need root canals, you name it.  Of course my therapist was like OMG TRACEY, calmmmm downnnnnn.  She reminded me again, that I had been through the worst years of my life, I was strong enough to make a change, and now battling the demon head on, I can do this, I will do this, I have to do this.  Be fearless.  We worked through the best case scenario and the worst case scenario so I can mentally prepare myself.  What I came to be really worried about was the best case scenario and here is why.  Best case, my teeth may have some kinks to work out but all in all, they were fine and I will be right back up to speed with visiting every 6 months.  What sounds so bad about that?  Well, that my mind would think that by throwing up for years and years and not giving my body the nutrients it needed, I could get away with it all.  It was a sense of my eating disorder kind of winning in this game.  I could potentially continue leaning on my bad habits because even after 10 or so years, my teeth didn't rot away.  I tell ya, the way I think...nothing EVER can be good.  My E.D will always manipulate a good situation and make it a bad one or always question why something good is happening.  That could never be reality.  So, best case, that was probably stronger than worst case in how to prepare for the results as crazy as it sounds.

Welcome..

The morning came of my appointment and ya'll, I can't even begin to tell you how nervous I was.  How was I going to say what I have been through, opening up to strangers of my deepest secret and deepest avoidance.  Will they judge me?  Will they turn me away?  Will they be grossed out?  Will I be too intimated and just walk out?  Well, I walked in and the first thing I saw was this two story, blue slide like you would go down at the playground.  I've seen it on Instagram and people videoing themselves going down it but there it was, in real life, and somehow that made me more nervous because I knew I was there.  I continued up the stairs and made my way to the office door.  I took a deep breath and in I walked where I was greeted my two pretty ladies that I could totally see me being friends with and they quickly asked they could help me.  They were super friendly and gave me a few forms to fill out while I was waiting.  As I walked over to the couch, I started to notice the office and how it was something out of a magazine.  The design was so chic, clean, modern, and frankly, just badass.  I was a little shaky at first while filling out the forms because I felt like I was in a whole different world much less a dentist office.  My only memories of the dentist office was with my mom having to hold my hand and go with me back to the room while they were cleaning my teeth in a well, not so cool looking office.

I stopped at the part of the form that I was dreading, "when was your last dentist visit?"  Dear God.  Here we go.  Do I lie?  Do I take a few years off and say ohhh been just about 3 or 4?  Do I tell the truth?  Omg, they're going to ask why it has been so long, how am I going to say this, I can't do this, anxiety, happening, now.  I sat and stared at the blank for a solid 30 seconds to a minute, trying to talk myself down and remember why I am here.  Then, my hand wrote the year 2005.  That was when my last appointment was.  A wave of shame, embarrassment, anxiety, nerves, butterflies, all hit me at once and I handed in my paperwork.  Alright, NOW there's no turning back.  The assistant called me back and it was time.  I couldn't even begin to tell you what that walk was like because I really can't remember.  So many emotions and thoughts were racing in to my mind at that moment that I really couldn't believe I was actually there.  I walked by the work stations, saw the dentist's office, noticing every nook and cranny, anything to take my mind off of what was about to happen.  Again, it was like walking through the future.  Everything was crisp, white, clean, yet had a certain swag to it that I can't explain.  When I got to my station, the only thing I noticed was this gigantic flat screen TV that was right in front of the dentist chair where I will be sitting and it was on Sportscenter.  WHAT!  Is this a dream?!?  I get my own TV while my teeth are getting...well...whatever they will be getting.  So, before I get more in to that, let me back up a few minutes.  We get to the station, I sit in the chair, and then...the brief conversation happens of what brings me in, etc.  The dental assistant had something so calming about her, like I could talk to her about anything.  So far, this appointment had been NOTHING like I expected.  It wasn't a war zone that I was putting myself through, it was truly a place where people care about you and are simply doing their job.  She pointed out that it had been quite awhile since my last dentist appointment....the hot flashes start, my heart was racing, this was the moment of life or death.  Ha, okay, not that dramatic but you get the picture.  I swallowed my pride and just started talking truthfully like I do in this blog.  Nothing is going to change if I keep lying to myself and others.  I said, well, I have been battling an eating disorder for quite some time, bulimia was my primary coping mechanism, at its worst, 10x a day, I've been avoiding the dentist because I am so scared of what he may find, I've been 2 years out of treatment and this is just the next thing I want to check off my list.  The end.  Omg am I still alive?  The next thing she said was probably the best thing I could have heard, no judgement was made, no look of WTF on her face, it was simply a "well, I'm really glad you're here," with a soft smile.  It was almost like all my fears went away in knowing not only did I feel so comfortable in that setting, but that I had just realized I picked the best office to go to for my current situation.  And it only got better...

LD t-shirts!  Fresh tah death.

After she went and discussed our conversation with the dentist, that is when I was looking around, watching the tube that I wish I could've stolen, and just took a deep breath and said to myself, wow, wow wow wow.  Again, just complete shock that I was actually sitting in a dentist chair and just got the worst part out of the way in opening up to a complete stranger...well, then I quickly remembered, oh wait, I still haven't seen the dentist. *slaps forehead*  A few minutes went by, I was sitting there tapping my foot to some Drake playing in the background, and in he comes, Dr. Adrian Lineberger (permission to use his name).  Here he is, young, cool looking guy, local branded tshirt, his white jacket, sick Nike's on, and a presence that was one you just gravitate towards.  He looked at me and smiled, and heard again, he was really glad I was there, and just went right in to what he is going to do that day and not make it awkward or a point to make me bring up my story again, which was awesome.  Nice and gentle is how I would describe him in that moment.  The chair starts to tilt back, and away we go.  There I was, sitting in the chair, dentist working on my teeth, and all I had were memories flash through my head like a slideshow of the past 10 or so years, the good, bad, and ugly.  The nights I wanted to just disappear, the days I didn't want to live, the happy times of playing basketball, the okay days of just living, the days I couldn't stop crying, days I couldn't look in the mirror, days I was too dizzy to walk, but also days where I thought I could totally do this..I mean they were all over the place.  Next thing I knew, he was done, and I was ready to hear the news of how awful my teeth were and how much work will have to be done.  I took a deep breath and the next few sentences were something I wasn't prepared to hear.

"They're not nearly as bad as you're probably thinking, they could have been a lot worse, totally treatable, etc..." something along those lines as I blacked out for a few seconds with the news I couldn't believe.  WHAT?!  No root canals, no removing all my teeth (dramatic I know), no completely ruined teeth?  How is this possible?  As I said earlier, if my mind hears something good, I automatically try to turn it into something bad because I still have a hard time accepting "good" in to my life.  Sometimes I still feel unworthy of greatness, unworthy of good things happening to me, undeserving of love and compassion, just worthy of shame and guilt.  It's still there, it will never fully go away, I just have to keep it controlled.  Of course, my mind directly went to the talk my therapist and I had about the eating disorder maybe feeling back in control since nothing terribleeeee was wrong.  I "got away with it," and yes, I did struggle with that for a few days and unfortunately had a few minor setbacks but with a little more time talking it out and talking with my family, they were able to help me to see the GOOD that came out of this situation and nothing should take that away from you.  Hell, it is still something I find myself questioning months after the process but I try to focus on how bad I want this life I am chasing, breaking the glass ceiling I have been trapped in.  Sorry, lost track again.  So the dentist and I talked about the treatment plan I will be needing (sorry keeping my results private) and after a few appointments, I will be as good as new and will see him in 6 months. WOW.  After all of this fear and anxiety and guilt and embarrassment and lying, I did it.  I faced all of those disgusting thoughts and did it.  Now, I'm sure if I did receive the worst case scenario results I would be in a totally different position and maybe even back to completely relying on my ED to get me through it, but, I'M NOT.  Can I tell ya'll just how good it feels that I did this?!  It is so hard for me to give myself a compliment but I displayed courage that I didn't think I had and now I am sitting here, with all my appointments DONE, and won't see Dr. Lineberger until December.  I'm not saying the treatment process was all sunshine and rainbows, they were a bitch BUT again, I cannot say enough good things about Dr. Lineberger, his staff, and the way he made me feel after each appointment I came in for.  I was not embarrassed to come back because he helped take that fear out of my mind that everything was going to be okay.  I knew I was in good hands and in the right hands for that particular time in my life.  And how crazy does it sound that I was actually kind of excited when I got to go back to that badass office and listen to some Biggie Smalls "Juicy" while a drill was in my mouth?!?

So, I know not all situations will work out how mine did.  Many situations I have gone through haven't worked out in my favor.  I would still be sitting here knowing I wasn't being 100% truthful to myself, my family, my doctors, my friends in trying to live for me, Tracey, and live FREE of my illness.  Hopefully this post encourages some of you to take that leap of faith or take that risk you are doubting yourself about.  It took me 10 years to take this one and I pray for each of you, you don't wait as long as I did and let it control and eat you up every day.  Think about how much time you could fill with different thoughts and feelings once you get that one thing done.  Think about what if you just jumped anyway.  What...if...  One of my favorite and most blunt quotes that says it all, "Replace every 'what if' with why the fuck not."  There's always that.  So for now, today, tomorrow, next week, I can smile a little bigger and a little bit more confidently in more ways than one.  Thanks for listening and reading this pretty cool experience I recently was able to live out.  As Dr. Lineberger's saying goes, #smilesovereverything.

Keep Flossing, Keep Pounding.

TLC, out.

Glasses you wear during the appointment you
get to keep.
#smilesovereverything

#KeepFlossing
(Carolina Panthers #keeppounding)

                 

Killer color lens

And always remember to floss

...but seriously.

My E.D Is Not A Diet

Sweating. Calories. Numbers. Labels. Body checking.  These are just a few of the things I became obsessed with at an early age and unfortunately stayed with me for almost 15 years.  Just thinking about sweating took up most of my day and never felt like I was ever in the present moment.  I really never understood what “being present” even meant.  I could not wait until I felt that first drip of sweat come off my body because in my mind that meant calories dying, that meant one-inch closer to losing weight.  It showed hard work, it showed what I thought was just being healthy.  I started weighing myself constantly in high school and started to become obsessed with numbers not only on the scale, but on clothes, on nutrition labels, on anything that could possibly resemble a body size or what you were putting in to your body.  I started lifting my shirt up every morning in the bathroom to check and see if I had suddenly lost 10 pounds over night, if my hip bones were protruding out of my skin, if you could see my collar bones more-so than yesterday.  If my eyes didn’t see what it liked, then I would go into self-destruction mode and only eat apples that day or staying on a cardio machine for that much longer.  I would grasp for anything that I would think would help me get to the body I wanted, you know, that “perfect body” we all have in our minds that we desperately try to achieve and if we don’t, we feel like a failure, we don’t feel enough, we don’t even feel worthy as a human being.  So, is an eating disorder just a diet to try and lose weight?  Well, at one point in time I said yes.  I would think I am just doing the norm of taking care of myself, working out, wanting to lose a few pounds here and there, eating healthy, because that in turn would help me feel accepted in the world.  I would do whatever “fad” workout or healthy foods was popular at the time.

After a few years of torturing myself in the gym and not nearly feeding myself enough nutrients, I was getting so frustrated that my body hasn’t changed, nothing was changing, if anything I was a tad bigger than when I started this obsession with my body.  So, being an athlete my entire life, my competitiveness kicked in and I took it to the next level.  What if I did allow myself to eat, my body would “think” it was getting everything it needed to function but then trick it by purging.  The diet of barely eating and working out (oh and forgot to mention, I was playing college basketball during the midst of all of this) wasn’t cutting it.  Let me try eating but throw it up and continue to work out.  Yea!  Let’s do that!  How I never passed out during practice, during a game, after a workout, I have no idea but there was no stopping me in getting the body I had always wanted so I can feel good about myself and feel good about my place in the world.  Once a day purging became 5 times, to 7 times, sometimes 10 times a day.  To me, it was that instant gratification of feeling empty again after purging that got me hooked.  I was back to feeling empty, empty of myself, my thoughts, my feelings, all that stuff I never wanted to deal with at a moment’s glance.  Basically, I was avoiding reality because reality was and still is a scary place for me.  It did however, feel so good to finally just EAT whatever I wanted because I knew it was coming right back up.  I could never allow it to digest because it would turn directly to fat (in my mind) and fat is bad, right?  Wrong.  You have to have fat to survive, it is an essential nutrient your body needs to function, if only I knew that then. 

After 10+ years of having bulimia, the only thing I felt I had control over in my life, I became more and more depressed, unhappy with life, unhappy with my identity, and just never got to the point of loving the way my body looked or simply loving myself.  In my mind, the way my body looked described how I was as a person.  I wanted everyone to know how much I worked out and that I was a college basketball player, how much I “took care of my body” so people would think, “Oh, Tracey must be so disciplined, mentally and physically strong, just a badass chick all around.”  Why did I care so much about what people thought?  Why did I already have a story implemented in their mind of how they perceived me and it was never good enough?  Why did I event think people paid that much attention to me?  Because I now realize that it wasn’t about having the perfect body.  None of this was really about losing weight or thinking I was on a life-long diet.  Through years of therapy, going to a treatment center in Denver, CO., continuously working with my team of doctors to this very day, I’ve realized this is a mental disorder.  My addiction-of-choice was food and exercise like an alcoholic’s choice in alcohol.  I turned to these two things to cope with unwanted thoughts, feelings, and emotions.  I turned to food to numb out everything that made me feel “real.”  If I didn’t feel anything then I didn’t have to worry about how I was viewed as a friend, daughter, girlfriend, colleague, because I strive for perfection in every aspect of my life.  I’ve had a Drill Sargent in my head constantly telling me, “you’re fat, you’re not enough, you have to be perfect, they don’t like you, no one likes you, your outside appearance tells everything about you, etc.”  It’s not the food, it’s not a diet, it’s a serious mental illness that no one knows exactly what causes it but eating disorders are not a “fad” that comes and goes.  They are not a choice to have and they are certainly NOT a diet for bikini season.  It is something that controls every move, every thought, every decision you make.  So, why didn't I just stop.  Just stop throwing up, just stop working out so much, just STOP.  Folks, hate to break it to you, but it doesn’t work like that.  It’s like telling someone who is deaf to listen harder or someone with a broken leg to just walk it off.  It is not a light switch we can turn on and off on days we don’t feel like having this disorder like how you can say “I am going off this diet.”  My mind on how it thinks, how it processes things, how it sees things is just different than someone who doesn’t have a mental disorder.  Point blank.  

Even though I now have a better grasp on everything I have been through, it sucks to think back on how much life I missed out on.  It seems like my entire 20’s was a blur because I was thinking in a completely different mindset than I am now after going through treatment and on-going therapy.  One thing is for certain though, I can say recovery has opened the gates of hell and it has let me out.

'F' Thigh Gaps

F 'thigh gaps' and all the power and attention society gives in thinking having one means something bigger than not. Does it mean you're prettier? You're more likable? More successful? I now know the answer is NO but ask me that, hmm maybe even last year, I would have said, well...yea!

I was having one of "those days" earlier and saw nothing but thick, TOO thick, of legs in every reflection I saw of myself while running around, when in my mind I wish I was really "running" thinking some miles would make them automatically thinner and in turn, would meannnnn, I'm cool? 🤔

This was completely ruining and controlling my mood and mind the entire day until I stopped and took a second to breathe and think of the bigger picture here before completely going 1000 steps backwards in recovery.

I walked in a bathroom, luckily just me, and stood and stared at myself saying "what the hell am I doing?" I have completely tortured myself every second of the day thinking the size of my thighs dictate who I am and how ppl view me. It's basically like having a Drill Sargent in your head yelling nothing but body shaming comments and your mind believing it, yet, still trying to act like nothing is wrong and go about your day. I tried to take control back and think of my legs as JUST that, Legs. I should appreciate and embrace the more athletic-built legs that I was born with and that has allowed me to function in life. I should not be torturing and judging myself in trying to mold my legs into little twigs or whatever my mind deems to be perfect. I mean, what would that accomplish? Having more friends? More social acceptance? No fears? No. The size of my legs has nothing to do with who I am as a person. They allow me to walk, run, climb, swim, sit, each and every day. They are LEGS! So this is me, taking a step forward (pun intended), in accepting my legs as they are and not what my subconscious mind feels is acceptable. If it just takes one body part at a time to start respecting and liking my body, so be it. I woooould be kind of lost without it.

TLC

The BORN Identity

Well HELLO!!...after a 6 month hiatus....

A dear, dear, dear friend sent this TEDx video to me this morning and thought maybe I would appreciate hearing this one. (scroll down for link to video) I have never had the patience nor attention span to sit and listen to a talk on my computer that is ha, more than 30 seconds? But, as soon as Dagney Knutson started talking about her experience of being a former Professional Athlete, I was hooked for the entire 11 minutes. How she describes her experience as an athlete and finding her identity outside of her chosen sport, I have never heard something so identical to what I have been struggling with for the past 9 years...and what I have grown to learn, much longer than that. Unfortunately, one of her coping mechanisms is one I have recently admitted to battling from, an eating disorder that took over her/my life. I am not saying I was ever on the same platform as a Professional Athlete but this mental disorder comes in all forms, shapes, and sizes and it means something different for everyone. Playing basketball throughout my entire life and lucky enough to play on the collegiate level (shout out to my GC ladies that I miss so much), that is how I identified myself for so long. I did not know who I was off the court and what self-worth and values even meant. She says it best in this talk:

"A poor performance in an athlete’s mind might mean “I’m a failure”, noticed I said “I’m a failure and not my performance was a failure.”

I work my butt off every single second of every single day to stay on an uphill battle of recovery, knowing there is no really "end" date. Do I stay 100% on my meal plan? No. Do I still have slips, reverting back to eating disorder behaviors to help cope with uncomfortable feelings? Yes. Do I still have depression, anxiety, body shame? Yes. BUT, what is good about admitting this NOW is, I have found that inner strength that I never thought I had to not let myself STAY down. I have slips, I have those days I stay in bed all day, I have those days where sweat is my only priority. Do I let them overshadow all the hard ass work I have done and continue to do in the past year? NO. Do I give up and let the relapse take over? NO. Do you just wake up one day, come out of a treatment center, take a pill and suddenly be recovered from a mental disorder? HELL NO. To say that my inner strength has indeed led me back to recovery after these times and not stay on the easy path of just giving up and going back to the comfort of ED is something I NEVER, EVER, EVER thought was possible. I am learning that there IS grey in a black and white world. My brain was wired to think otherwise. Every second that I stay in recovery, I know I am one second closer in to trusting, knowing, understanding, and loving my identity as Tracey, off the court and outside of being an athlete.

"I find it more important to work for significance, not just top performance."

*copy and past link*

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VU73KOoO5h0

Contrary to the message above....Hot damn I miss basketball!!!

Positive vibes,

TLC

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

Before I begin, I want to take a few moments to recognize the start of National Eating Disorder Awareness week.  For those struggling and thinking rock bottom is the only place you can be, please listen.  You are not alone.  You are never alone in this process.  Everyone who struggles with this awful disorder only believes this horrific "life" is only happening to them.  Well, it's not.  It took getting help for me to realize there is more to me than this mental disorder.  When I look in the mirror, there is more to me than my body.  I am a person with feelings, thoughts, and emotions that I was tired of trying to avoid or numb out.  I was tired of living in shame and in a mask of someone I only wanted to be in the public eye.  I was tired of living a lie and thinking the eating disorder was the only thing I had to turn to to feel somewhat worthy as a person.  It sucks to live in that dark place.  I never thought the sun would shine again, that is, until I got help.  Reaching out for help was always a fear of mine as I thought it showed weakness, it showed failure.  I was scared to show vulnerability because it would show my imperfections.  I have now learned the strongest thing I have ever done was ask for help and actually received it when it came my way.  I entered a treatment center last May and owe my life to it.  Am I recovered? No.  Do I never have bad days?  Hell no.  Do I love the person I am?  I am getting there, I just respect Tracey more now.  So if you think you are the only case walking this Earth that cannot be helped, please tell that THOUGHT inside of you to shut.up.  Recovery is possible for EVERYONE, just believe in it and trust the process.  It takes time.  Life is too beautiful to live in a dark world.

Please take a few moments to take the free screening if you are in need of help. <3
Trust and Believe.

The good can be bad, and the bad can be good.  The ugly can be good and the good can be ugly.  Follow me?  What I have realized throughout this process is that good isn't always necessarily good.  Good in my eyes is scary, it is uncomfortable, it is the unknown, it is "getting better".  Good is a feeling that I have been longing for and when it comes, I don't really know what to do with it or even how to act.  I don't know how to sit with good feelings and knowing it is OKAY to feel good and to show it.  Does feeling good mean I am recovered?  Does feeling good just mask the bad and ugly thoughts that are deep down?  Does feeling good mean I am not taking recovery seriously?

Why must I go through all of these questions just help justify why I feel "good" or "content" at times.  My mind feels like it should always be going in to battle mode of fighting off the bad but what happens in those moments of the day where good does happen?  My mind is so use to finding the bad and ugly to feed off of that it doesn't know what to do when those thoughts are not there so it just creates anxiety.  So, since I am still uncomfortable with the feeling of comfortable, relaxed, in a good place, it has unfortunately led to a slip last week in to eating disorder behaviors.  I wanted to numb it out and not feel like everything is okay in that moment.  WHY?  Why must I numb out the good that comes along in recovery?  Why can't I just appreciate progress and not question it.  Why does every feeling, good, bad, and ugly, have to come with a snowball effect and always ending with a negative thought.  I am not saying I always reject good feelings but on some days where things are going really well in life, I need to learn to see them for what they are and give myself some slack in to thinking "you know what?  I DESERVE this."

Final allowing myself to have a somewhat relaxed weekend by trying not to think about work, working out (which I still did buuuut did take Sunday off) and to just try and live in the present moment, I noticed a lot of things, good, bad, and ugly.  I will start with the bad and ugly so I can end on a positive note. :)  I would say what I considered to be not so relaxing or uncomfortable or I guess "bad" would be the fact that I couldn't completely relax.  Saturday afternoon after a brutal workout that morning, I told myself I will not do anything for the afternoon.  I will lay on the couch, watch the UNC game (Go Heels!), try not to think about what else I "should or could" be doing with my time.  Just have some Tracey time.  Well, it was harder than I thought.  I felt like since I was not in motion I wasn't burning any calories, even though I probably burned a LOT that morning.  I felt pounds packing on by the hour when I wasn't doing anything.  What?  Now I know that is humanly impossible to do but again, just trying to train my mind to believe it.  I was scared to eat anything all day because I knew I wasn't going to be doing a lot of movement.  Unfortunately, I didn't.  I felt myself getting bloated over the stress and anxiety and thoughts I was putting on myself.  I felt like I had to go workout again to just put on regular clothes to be seen in public.  I felt...fat.  I ate after I worked out but that was kind of it.  I grazed here and there but did not have a full meal because my mind wouldn't "allow" me to eat thinking it would go straight to fat since I was being lazy.  Which brings me to more of the bad and ugly, lazy.  Why do I associate that word with everything negative?  Lazy.  Lazy is a word that I have been so scared of.  Lazy is a word that I never want to be defined as nor thought of in that content what so ever.  Lazy to me = nonproductive, unmotivated, fat, couch potato, worthless, failing, hopeless, ugly, anxious, very uncomfortable.  I mean geez, Tracey, tell us how you really feel.  That is why I feel like I have to constantly stay busy so I will never be in the same paragraph nor thought of the word lazy.  Why?  Why is being lazy the worst thing you could possibly do on an afternoon?  Well, I just don't know.  All the negative self talk is at its loudest and I am scared of it.  I am scared those thoughts will lead to behaviors.  So am I back to avoiding the person I am?  Avoiding unwanted thoughts and feelings instead of dealing with them at that moment?  Was treatment all for nothing now after learning so many coping mechanisms?  I've been down this road waaaay too many times throughout my life and that is the last place I want to ever go again.  Well, it did leave me barely eating BUT I ended up still sitting my ass down on the couch, watching TV AND even ending up going out with some friends that night which I have not done in a whileeeee.  Although, I was scared to death in trying to find something to wear and ended up changing literally about 10 times, but I still made it out.  Yes, I wore a VERY flowy, ponchoy dress and a jacket to not draw attention to my body that hasn't done ANYTHING all day but, it's a work in progress.  I finally kind of just let me hair down and told myself that it is okay to go out and socialize  and for people to see it.  And you know what?  I had a damn good time.

Howwww creepy weird I saw this on Instagram yesterday
in lieu of what I am discussing?! 

Want to get in to some of the good?  I even went "out" yesterday afternoon since it was somewhat decent outside and hung out with friends at a local bar's patio...annnnd I didn't allow myself to work out!! Whoaaaa Trace, let's just calm down now you little party animal.  Sad thing is why do I have to "allow myself not to work out."  It's like I have to give myself permission to do anything.  Okay, okay, let's just keep focusing on the good.  So yes, went out with some friends, enjoyed some mimosas, and each other's company.  Sure after each mimosa I was trying to calculate the number of calories, grams of sugar, I probably just consumed but I tried my hardest to tell that inside calculator to shut uppppp and let me enjoy this time!  We ended up ordering some french fries which were O.M.G so good, wait did I just say that?  Annnnd later on in the evening I ordered some veggies and hummus to satisfy a little hunger strike.  Again, did I get in 3 solid meals yesterday?  No.  Which I am still pissed at myself today for not doing BUT, looking back on the weekend and the FUN I allowed myself to have is progress in itself.  I know my team of doctors aren't going to be too happy by reading this but, today I am recognizing the mistakes for what they are and getting back on track today.  The last sign of "good" I will leave you with over the weekend was people acknowledging a change in my mood/behavior/presence.  As mentioned in previous posts and again later in this one, it has been very triggering to hear of progress, getting better, looking better from outsiders.  Good means I am doing something right when sometimes, I want to go back to what is comfortable in the bad and ugly.  Good as lead to binging and purging, restricting, working out a lot, feeling fat BUT I changed my mindset and accepted the compliments with grace.   I had three friends yesterday and this morning tell me how happy I looked.  They told me they saw a difference that they haven't seen in forever.  I looked more at ease, more at peace, more cool, calm, and collected with myself.  Folks, not one ounce of me wanted to run and hide.  Today is the first time I embraced being told how much fun it looked like I was having and how happy I looked while doing so.  Will I feel the same way as the next person to tell me I look happy?  I don't know.  What I do know is, the feeling I got when I WAS told I looked happy, was a feeling I liked, for once in my life, and didn't try to avoid it.  Thank you to them.  You helped me to get where I am today.

Now, moving on to more past experiences and more insight on the good, bad, and ugly, I have had to make a lot of decisions regarding work/life/recovery and how I am prioritizing my time in the past few weeks.  I actually JUST added in the last few paragraphs of my weekend just now so bare with me if some of this sounds like I am repeating myself as I didn't want to change a lot that I had already wrote late last week because that is what I was feeling in THAT moment.  Again, I am trying to stay authentic and why change something that I did feel at that time when I was writing to maybe a different mindset than I am in now.  All about balance.  SOOOOOO, as I just mentioned about trying to "be lazy", I like to stay busy but at the same time, I want to to be staying busy for the right reasons.  Some days when I am done with my "to do" list, I find the most pointless stuff to keep me from taking a seat and relaxing.  I am nervous to relax because my mind still thinks I SHOULD be doing something.  I am nervous because of the negative self talk that could creep up and try and take over the "relaxing".  In the past, it has said things such as "why are you taking a break, you don't deserve a break, you could be doing so much more with your life right now but you are being lazy.  What are you even doing with your life?  GET UP.  Do you burn calories by sitting down? *as I would run my hand down my stomach to see if it has got bigger since a few hours before*  It is a vicious cycle that I am scared would come back if I were to just, SIT.  Hints, why this post has took me forever to finally finish.  I have kept myself going and going and going and never took the time to actually sit back and ask myself, "Tracey, how are you doing, girl?  Everything okay?  You're doing awesome.  Stay strong.  You got this."  I am nervous the good that comes from taking a break and disconnecting will trigger a binge and purge or a day without eating or going to another workout when I feel I have come so far.  As I said earlier, the good unfortunately DID win and I slipped.  I don't want that to happen again so why let it?  I will just keep going and going and going.  The "bad" that comes from always on-the-go is what is comfortable.  It is what I have done for years and years and years to hide what I don't want to show.  I didn't want to show my vulnerable side, my "weak" side, my I need help side.  I wanted to show that I was strong, always staying busy, good at what I do, always in a good mood, being "perfect", having confidence no matter what my body looked like.  The suffering in silence was bad...but it was also good.  I had CONTROL over it and that made me feel good.  I had control over an ugly creature living inside of me and determined when it would come and go.  I felt out of control with my life, my weight, my relationships and to have just ONE thing that I could control felt powerful.  There was an easy solution of how to get rid of the little devil but numbing out the negative thoughts by acting on behaviors.  I did/don't know how to easily get ready of what seems to be more of an angel wanting to spread its wings inside me and show my self-worth and that I am strong enough to handle all the good that comes my way.

One recent occurrence where the battle of good vs evil was LOUD in my head was when I stepped up to the plate and ran my first 5K while in recovery.  Did I HAVE to do this? No.  I wanted to do this.  I wanted to do this for myself.  I wanted to prove to myself that I am stronger now than I was then.  That I am not at war with myself when it comes to sizing up the competition and judging every inch of my body in a negative light.  I was ready.  I am not going to lie that everything went A-OK, juuuuust how I wanted.  It was HELL at first until something pretty crazy/magical/weird/good happened.  Things leading up to the actual word "GO" for the race was going fine!  I helped set up our promo table at the race for work with great company beside me and just felt pretty content at that moment.  It was time to head up to the start line and that is when the competitive nature came out that I knew ohhhhh so well.  I have avoided any situations where I would be competing too much with myself and others whether it be through fitness, work, random life activities, thinking I HAD to do it the best, it HAD to be done perfectly, I HAD to win at everything or I am a failure, ever since leaving for treatment last May.  So this was a huge test, running a 5k with a couple other runners.  I am human, so of course I was sizing up everyone, yes I admit I was judging what people looked like based on their body, exactly how I FEAR people doing to me, and tried to just focus on running.  JUST running and having a good time being outside, in nature which I value, all for a good cause, and for a group of co-workers I love.  From those who read my "snowball effect" post, you guessed it, it didn't just stop with sizing people up.  As I was jumping around trying to stay warm, I started to zone out into the little devil mind and what he was trying to tell me.  It is almost like I warped into a different mind as I lost the battle to my ED in that moment.  All of a sudden I looked down at my body and saw fat.  I looked at my legs so embarrassed by what they looked like in tight leggings, I was body checking all around my waist, feeling my love handles thinking WHYYYYY do I have these???, I was feeling my arms and just thinking how fat they were, when I was jumping up and down all I could feel were my cheeks exposed like a blow fish.  I mean, I was judging every.little.thing. on my body and saw nothing that I could appreciate.  I looked at women who were near me as if they were God's gift to Earth.  THEY had the "perfect" body, they have a thigh gap, that have tone arms enough to see definition through their tight long sleeve shirts, they "look" in shape, I bet she is a fast runner, I bet she loves her body, why can't I look like her and her and her.

By this time, my music was as loud as it would go, I kept going on and on and had completely blacked out for a few minutes.  When I came back to reality, I honestly forgot where I was for a split second because that is how far away from the present moment this mental disorder can take you.  That is why it is hard for me to even remember times at previous jobs, previous trips, vacations, moments because for 8 solid years, I was living in a film covered reality of not seeing a clear present moment.  When I snapped out of it, it was almost like my GOOD part of mind knocked the shit out of the devilish side and screamed WAKE UP!!!  I was going back to bad habits that I knew for so long and I was about to run 3.2 miles of pain wishing I was something I am not, wishing I looked like something that I am not.  I finally realized what I was doing and the awful time I would have if I ran with nothing but shame and disgust screaming in my head if I didn't win the race.  All of the "I HAD TO WIN, what if I don't run fast enough, what if I look like I don't belong at a 5k, what if I look like I should be a good runner and then have everyone pass me, what if I stop running because I am out of breath, what if...I CAN'T?" were taking over a great morning of positive vibes from everyone and being active at the same time.  I remember taking a huge, deep breath and talking myself off the ledge of "it is okay, Tracey.  Run for you.  Run to prove to your eating disorder, your mental disorder that you are done living a life through their eyes.  Run to win over those good emotions that you deserve to feel, and damnit, just run because you CAN.  As I ran those positive affirmations through my head, my phone suddenly died.  Now this is the weird thing that happened.  My phone was at 50% when it suddenly died and that is when the man yelled GO!  I was suddenly faced with the road in front of me and living in silence in the present moment.  Now, you can believe in whatever you believe in, no judgment here, but I thought to myself that it was God's way of telling me, I will be okay.  I need to learn to live in the present moment and not have any distractions around me, including music.  I need to take time for myself and just breath in the fresh air and run at my own pace, no one else is watching.  Of course at first I was cussing every name in the book thinking did that REALLY just f'n happen, but by the first mile, it was actually kind of nice to just be jogging through a neighborhood, no music, no distractions, and enjoying Tracey being with Tracey for once.  Although I didn't come in first, I feel like I won that race.  I won that race for the RIGHT reasons.

This was probably the moment I couldn't feel my face, or hands, or feet, or...my entire body!!
The South doesn't prepare you for these cold mornings!

Ever since that happened, I have been kind of weirded out by the whole thing as to why did my phone reallyyyy die, but I just keep telling myself that maybe it is just time for me to stop and smell the roses every once in a while.  I need to disconnect to reconnect.  By always keeping busy, staying distracted, avoiding mirrors, I am avoiding life that is right in front of me that's a pretty good one.  I keep tip toeing around the good, the bad, the ugly because I don't know which one is going to show it's face at any given moment and feel like I always need to be prepared.  Tracey, just LIVE.  Take each moment for what it is worth and not let each second pass by fearful of maybe not being strong enough to handle it.  I am still living for the days where I don't have to lift up my shirt every morning to see if I magically gained a 6 pack over night or at least feel "skinnier".  I live for the days where that first glance of my body in the mirror doesn't dictate how my mood will be for the day.  I wish I could pick out anything to wear from my closet instead of always going through in my mind what body part will show most in that, will I be triggered if I FEEL like I gained weight since last time I wore it, and will my body be hidden just enough for me to feel comfortable.  While all of these are still struggles, how I have chosen to react to them is what is different.  I have a clearer mindset to realize that most of these thoughts are just thoughts and not facts.  That if I don't like my stomach in the mirror, I don't turn to purging or not eating for the day or sweating my butt off at the gym.  To try my hardest to choose the higher route that I am MORE than this and that I have values to live for today.  Have the confidence I know that is there deep down inside and don't be afraid to show it.  Just because you show it, doesn't mean you will never struggle again.  It just means you are more than your mental disorder, you are more than your thoughts and feelings, you are more than what food is in your body, and you are more than that reflection you THINK you see in the mirror.  You are more than a size, a number on the scale, an exception to the rule that all of this shit only happens to YOU.  You are a person who has highs and lows, ups and downs, smiles and tears, and that is okay.  Be thankful for who you are and show it some gratitude every once in awhile.  Every time you workout don't think you have to be training for a race, the perfect body, that extra 5 lbs to fit into a certain.  Every day we are all training for the toughest race on Earth in our own little way.  It doesn't come in the form of crawling in mud, jumping over hurdles, bench pressing 500lbs, how many times you go to the gym, or sweating your ass off.  This race is called LIFE and YOU get to choose who wins.  As they say, "my worst days in recovery are better than my best days in relapse."

LOVE THIS.

BOOM.

Sending mad love,

TLC

#KeepPounding

It's funny, well let me refrain that, it's kinda CREEPY, that this morning (Sunday) when I had planned to start my next post, last night I had a dream that I had to go back to treatment and I woke up thinking it was reality.  I still have that weird, icky feeling of what just happened and I am not sure how to dissect the dream or what it could represent but, maybe it just means I am supposed to write today and reiterate to myself that I am staying strong and choosing to stay in recovery TODAY.  I am choosing to #keeppounding through this journey and not take this second chance for granite at what I am set on this Earth to do.

Stole this from a friend (thanks, Lauren) but I LOVE IT!!!

For those who are not familiar with what #keeppounding means, it is the tag line that has grown into its own brand for the CAROLINA PANTHERS who are now Super Bowl 50 bound!!  There has never been a better time to live in Charlotte and to be a born and raised Carolina girl.  Through the hype of it all, the more and more I kept hearing and seeing #keeppounding, the more I related it to what I am going through at this point in time.  Keep.  Pounding.  Now, I am no NFL football player nor have any desire to know what it feels like to get speared on the field, but to know what those guys go through day in and day out during practice, a game, workouts, and to continue to get back up, to keep fighting through blood, sweat, and tears, shows tremendous strength unlike no other and tremendous heart, determination, and dedication to keep their eyes on the ultimate goal of bringing home the National Championship.  Now what does all of that mean to me?  How am I comparing that to being in recovery from an eating disorder and to any one who is choosing recovery over the darkness they refuse to live in again?  Well, welcome to this post.

Me and some girlfriends at the Panther Pride Pep Rally to send off our Panthers to SB50!

A friend said it pretty bluntly yet pretty accurately the other day when I was talking to her about my "in the moment" thoughts on food on how I think I am the exception, not the rule to everything known to man about feeding the body.  I am the only person walking this earth that everything I put in to my mouth turns to fat.  It doesn't go to organs, it doesn't help feed my brain, food just automatically forms to fat and then my body stores it wherever it pleases.  Call me crazy or call me maybe, but it's something that my little demon friend still likes to creep up and tell me time and time again.  These thoughts are VERY present today because I recently got pretty sick, and by pretty sick, I mean landed me in the hospital over night and hooked up to an IV.  I am not going to go in to personal details but I got very sick two weeks ago due to stomach issues and the IV was the only thing my body would accept.  So what does my E.D side of brain tell me during this time? "Yay, you'll probably lose weight now, you won't have to eat anything, maybe even lie and say you still can't keep anything down, your stomach will be flat, maybe this was supposed to happen because you're supposed to lose weight and you kept feeding your body and you were getting fat."  I know we can all joke and say "just one stomach flu away from my goal weight" but my mind takes that pretty literally and will do anything in its power to make it reality.  Getting a true illness while in recovery from an eating disorder is such a slippery slope and in treatment we even talked about a Meal Plan B for when you cannot follow your original meal plan.  Your eating disorder can come to life and feed off whatever illness you are dealing with and try to WIN over your mind again because it knows you are trying to tuck it away for good.  When I was finally able to go home I still only felt comfortable eating pretzels, crackers, jello, ginger ale, water, just anything BLAND.  I honestly was just scared to try anything of substance because I did not want anything to upset my stomach again and have to go through the awful, awful, AWFUL pain (rightfully so).  What else was my mind thinking of?  Well, since I had been an absolutely potato the last 3 days, I wanted to work out.  I had been laying still for 3 days, barely able to get up and walk, and the moment I had enough energy to walk around I only wanted to walk around for a purpose which meant, to work out and build up a sweat.  If I could sweat, maybe that would make me feel even better because I would sweat out the toxins, all the bad stuff.  Need I remind you I had not had a full meal in three days and the only thing that was in my body was liquids.   Yea, Trace, realllll smart.  Go workout and your face will meet the floor real quick.  I was so nervous to get in the shower because I didn't want to face my naked body after not working out, I was nervous to put on different clothes now that I was home because I was scared they would fit differently, they would be tighter than before, I was scared to go out in public thinking everyone would tell a difference in my appearance after days of not moving and not working out.  Yes, this is what my mind tells me.  All because I was sick, my body would change for the worse after just a few days.  Crazy. But, I had to keep pounding.

I had been communicating with my dietitian all while I was in the hospital and recovering at home.  I was sending her what I was "eating" and drinking and what I could maybe slowly work in to gain more energy.  She was very supportive and I have to tell this story for some comic relief, if you want to call it.  The night I got admitted to the hospital I had emailed my therapist and dietitian I had been getting sick for the past 14 hours, not able to keep anything down.  Not even thinking of purging was my main source of my eating disorder, I simultaneously received emails back saying "CAN YOU PLEASE CLARIFY, "THROWING UP"!!!???!?" Meaning, their initial reaction was I was making myself sick over and over again and it landed me in the hospital.  Okay, maybe "comic relief" wasn't the appropriate words to use but I chuckled as I replied, "no, no, no, no, not what you're thinking.  I am literally getting sick due to something I either caught or ate.  Guess I should have clarified that at the start."  Luckily, this all happened at a time when I was meeting with my dietitian the Monday after the past week of being sick.  I faced putting on clothes after being home from the hospital, scared to death they would be tighter than before but...could it be, that they fit EXACTLY the same?!  How dare that happen.  How dare my body not actually gain any weight after not being mobile for more than one day in a row.  If anything, they were a TAD loser just from not being able to eat a lot.  I went in with the mentality I was going to tell my dietitian that getting sick at this particular time in my recovery was a double edged sword.  For one, my mind was saying "see Tracey, your body doesn't change just after a few days of not working out, your clothes fit the exact same, YOU WILL LIVE."  Which was a huge relief to just reiterate to my eating disorder that I do not have to sweat my ass off every single day at the gym to get the body I have always wanted.  Okay, good, we're getting somewhere.  But what may you ask was on the other end of that sword?  Well, yea my clothes still fit the same and I wasn't working out but I also wasn't eating.  So talking to myself, I thought okay, my body stays the same if I don't work out and if I don't eat, so what will happen if I don't work out AND eat?!  Instead of a huge slap to the face, my dietitian looked at me and agreed that everything I had told her makes total sense.  Of course your mind would go there.  Of course your eating disorder will try and justify everything that has to deal with food and exercise and why you can't have both to get to X body.  However, we had to go back to me thinking I was the exception to all scientific rules when it came to food and digestion.  She continues to help me tremendously in to noticing my body as a BODY with organs, blood systems, bones, fat, skin, a brain and that they all need to be nourished to work, to keep pounding, to keep fighting, to keep me healthy and functioning to live another day.  My body isn't just a trashcan that stores everything as fat before anything else.

As I replay all of the scenarios my E.D. part of my brain was feeding me throughout the past few weeks, I automatically thought of two situations that if I had not and DO NOT continue to nourish and feed my body the proper nutrients it needs to function, these amazing experiences would have never happened or never will happen again in the future.  For instance, I had the absolute honor to be asked by my hometown high school's girl's basketball coach to come practice with the team and share my story with them afterwards.  I literally felt like it was Christmas Eve night trying to get to bed the night before I was venturing home for this because I was so unbelievably excited to not only practice and talk to my former high school team but to step foot in that gym where so many nostalgic memories lie and some of my happiest times that I will ever have in life.  The smell that is so captivating you can almost remember exactly what class you were walking to you when you last had that scent under your nose.  I walked in with automatic chills up and down my spine and I had never felt more at home than that very moment.  I got to scrimmage with these girls who could potentially grow in to doctors, teachers, CEO's, nurses but careers didn't matter at that point, what college they were going to didn't, or who they were even playing the next day.  I got to live in that very present moment with them as we ran up and down the court, cheeks turning pink, dripping sweat, sliding our feet in a defensive position, all while cracking a smile because life was good.

East Rowan High School - Girl's Basketball Team <3

After we scrimmaged, we sat in the locker room where -ish got real and started to explain exactly why I was there and what I was going to be talking about.  All they knew was a former player was coming to practice with them and then talk afterwards.  No subject matter was mentioned.  As I slowly got out the reason, all was uphill from there.  I must admit I was way more nervous to speak infront of them than my other talks with UNCC Women's athletic teams because this was home for me.  This was MY high school, my memories, my former team.  I could tell some were a little taken back that I had told them I was now in recovery from an 8 year eating disorder and how I managed to keep it a secret throughout my basketball career but I also felt comfort in their body gestures, their eye contact, the look of curiosity yet sadness of what I put myself through.  As I got more comfortable, I suddenly became very UNcomfortable with side thoughts my eating disorder was feeding me in silence.  I was still in a sweaty tank top from practice with my arms exposed.  I have always been so self conscious about my arms thinking they are took big, not tone enough, not athletic enough, not skinny enough, so I try to hide them as much as I can.  Well, if I had the chance, I probably would have put on my jacket but that was me, living in the moment, not caring what I looked like because my words were bigger than my appearance in what I was trying to get across to these girls.  But, I still kept hearing, "They're staring at your arms right, they're too fat, cover them up, you don't look like an athlete, you don't look like anything, you look like a wannabe."  However, I kept pounding and pounding and pounding through those thoughts to finally making them silent and continued to be the authentic Tracey while telling my story to this inspiring team.  This incredible experience would not have happened if I didn't take care of myself and my body.  I have to keep telling myself in order to get where I want to go, I have to treat my body like a machine and to know without food, it won't work.

The second event that recently occurred was another speaking engagement at UNCC and this time with the Women's Volleyball Team.  This came the Monday after being sick, what I discussed at the beginning of this post.  I must admit, my mindset going in to this was all over the place.  When I would try to stay focused on the task at hand, all I could think about was what I would physically look to these girls when I walked into the room.  I hadn't worked out in about 4 days now and automatically told myself I had gained 10 pounds over night so let me be sure to wear a baggy shirt but still look presentable.  My eating disorder was creeping up and telling my mind nothing but negative self talk in my appearance that my mind could barely prepare for my talk that was about to happen.  Then something happened, as soon as my therapist introduced me and it was my time to shine, every negative self judgement went away and folks, I probably had one of the best talks to date.  I was more authentic in this talk than I ever had been.  I even mentioned to them that in that very present moment I was implementing these stories in their heads that they were looking at me in disgust.  That they were thinking I was too fat to be a former collegiate athlete, that I had "let myself go", that I just don't look good enough, and it was real.  It was just something about that talk that I had a really, really good feeling about.  I even said something I surprised my own damn self with, something along the lines of, "Strong isn't about a bicep curl or a chest press. Strong is about accepting and respecting yourself and living a life dedicated to that. Strong isn't about tricep definition, it's about defining yourself in how you can live out the best YOU possible while bettering others around you." *mic drop*  I just didn't think I would ever say anything like that, and much less believe it.  I always thought strength came in the form of appearance and I had to LOOK strong at all times.  Going back to fueling my body and my brain, I can now start to believe that strength isn't about how tone you look, but being your most authentic, real, unmasked self and being OK with it.  Being strong is respecting yourself and accepting the person you are, accepting your reflection and all the flaws that come along with it.  Again, if I don't take care of myself and if I don't keep pounding through recovery, none of these experiences would be possible.

UNCC Women's Volleyball Team - Good luck, ladies!

So, turning an NFL team's tag line into two words that mean more than just tackling the opponent or winning the Big Game, but to life's battles that hit you harder than Luke Kuechly or Thomas Davis and how you can power through them to come out on top.  Ask yourself what does #keeppounding mean to you?  What can you overcome this year, tomorrow, today, the next hour to get you closer to the person you see yourself becoming in the future?  So folks, keep pounding, keep fighting, keep dancing, keep laughing, keep loving, and most importantly, keep your head held high and know that you WILL come out on the other side.

we've got this,
TLC

GO PANTHERS!