|Having fun with the food prep at Jack Astor's Whitby Bar Competition, November 23rd 2011|
|Working my own magic in the kitchen (it's getting easier!) and for those of you who know my cooking talents, or lack thereof... this is a big deal. Adam actually uttered the words, "You should cook more often!" I'm holding him to that.|
|My wonderfully creative (if I do say so myself) Halloween decorations!|
September is around the corner... and I'm getting ready for my final year of University. Oh, and we move into the new house in... a month.
These words made me literally stop in my tracks, and my heart skipped a beat. I have always had a strong inner battle with food and weight, maybe not to the extremes of Portia and the like but enough that I rarely ingest anything without a voice taunting me as to whether I've earned it, or deserved it."I cried at night because I couldn't feel my hip bones and not having them to physically hold onto was like losing a dear friend."
I have been up and down the scale since adolescence; asking my mother if it was "normal" to weigh 120 pounds in grade 8, wearing oversized sweaters and baggy pants to battle the influx of puberty and association of beauty with size. It wasn't until I shot up to my 5'10" state that I thinned out a touch, enough to confidently wear a shirt without a sweater over top, but that quickly changed upon finishing highschool and embarking to University: ultimate freedom, especially in terms of food. I cannot remember a time after the age of 10 that I did not consciously consider what was going into my body in one way or another. The constant guilt, the bargaining, the justification not only to myself but to others that 'this is ok, because I'll work out later.' Or, 'this is ok, because I just got an 80 on an exam.' Now, I have lost 23 (yes, exactly 23) pounds between my second year of University (a very very stressful year in which food became my safe haven between stress, drama, and life) and today. But the constant battle between weight, appearance, dressing, and simple life tasks is neverending. This is why this book spoke to me so closely and precicely; in my own way, I have been battling a type of eating disorder that is so mild, it really can't be cured or fixed. It is my way of life, and the darkness is always waiting around the corner. It may not be severe (to be honest, I've tried the purging route and simply do not have the fight or stamina to fully commit) but it truly does exist, and I haven't realized it in full until now."He doesn't wait until I'm awake. He comes into my unconscious to find me, to pull me out. He seizes my logical mind and disables it with fear. I awake already panic-stricken, afraid I won't answer the voice correctly, the loud, clear voice that reverberates in my head like an alarm that can't be turned off.
What did you eat last night?"
I wake up every single morning and feel my hip bones. Until recently, they've been hiding below a layer of fat, still able to be felt yet still covered, by fat that I measure based on my ability to wear just a t-shirt without a backup tank underneath, or a sweater over top. And every single morning they are there to greet me, like a dear friend.
back to the future
My little life is moving at warp speed and things are really changing, in an exciting way.
I came back to a massive amount of hours at work, and have been working like a mad woman ever since. It's not for nothing, though, since last weekend Adam made a rather large purchase... Our first house.
Needless to say... I'm incredibly excited. The property is beautiful, the house is close to perfection, and we move in at the end of September.
I believe in fate.
I may sound incredibly naive, unintelligent, but when it comes down to it.. I strongly hold my cards to the fact that some things just -happen-. And they happen, for specific reasons unknown and uncontrollable by us silly little people folk.
This photo? A fluke, seeing as I was shooting a model and my trigger fired without warning while I was setting up. This is not a planned photo. And yet, I find myself loving it every time I see it. Something about it, the mechanics of the technical environment I spend so much time in, the curl in the edge of the backdrop that looks almost surf-able, the distinct feeling of intrusion upon this moment in time, caught unbeknown to the busy, focused photographer who never really looks down in a scene such as this one; the model is the focus, and it's without second thought that the outcome of the shoot will reflect such. Little did I know, I would love this photograph more than the model on grey that was scheduled into the works.
This is a rant, of sorts, that I'll bring to a close after a paragraph (or two, if I'm feeling relatively vicious). I believe in fate. and That is why, when there are moments in life when I feel the utmost of helplessness a human being can feel, I cling desperately to that small morsel of belief in the back of my mind saying... this will get better, this will change, and everything happens for a reason.
I am currently feeling helpless.
If anyone possesses the solution to a life of unhappiness, struggle and loneliness, I would love to rent a copy.
I am feeling helpless, and selfish, in that my own life is calm, cool, collected and comfortable, while others struggle to maintain a simple smile on their face as their days merge into a tango from hell, unable to sit out and come back in when the timing is right.
So here I sit, content and happy, but restless to find help for those who can't seem to tap out of their struggles.
If you've got the recipe, let me know.