Marrying the mental and the mischief

It always surprises me how aspects of my kink related play marry to other aspects of myself.

Let me back up briefly.

 It’s about to get a bit personal.

I have struggled with an eating disorder for over the past decade, though I am now medically considered recovered. I was hospitalized for it back in my late teens and it has influenced some of my current medical conditions.

My relationship with food is still complicated. Especially around holidays like Thanksgiving. I have to navigate a prickly maze of thorn-laden hedges in my brain to merely sit down with family and eat a plateful of food.

I deal with it in my day-to-day life mostly by grazing. It tricks my brain and those darkly creeping thoughts to only eating a little at a time. It’s the plates full of food in front of other people that sets off that siren screaming in my head. Calling the cruel goddess Ana to my brain with her poisoned words and glittering sharp teeth. Just a couple pounds less. Always just a couple less.
Her demand of sacrifice is a throwback to the days of pagans gathered around an unfortunate virgin, knives gleaming.

But I have found a surprising weapon in the community and exploration of kink. Not just the support I receive from friends and mentors when the dark thoughts curl around my feet, but also the play itself.



The subspace is untouchable by Ana. It is a thickly layered brick maze that she cannot navigate. The stinging of a flogger, the thudding of a paddle, they add barbed wire to those brick walls. The rip of tape, the slithering sound of rope, the zap of electricity…

All of these things are soothing to me. They bring me to a place that I cannot bring myself. 

It may seem unorthodox, and I’m sure the average mental-health professional would be floored by the therapy I get from play. After hitting subspace, I haven’t the inclination or motivation to count calories or restrict myself.



The food I put in my mouth after a scene is so goddamn guilt-free delicious.

Spiraling

The path isn’t a straight line; it’s a spiral. You continually come back to things you thought you understood and see deeper truths.

-Barry H. Gillespie

I was doing well. I was. I have a house. I own it 100% outright. I’m doing this adult thing. I even traveled this year.

But life isn’t a straight path. It’s a spiral and half the time, you come right back around to where you were.

And where I am now is not good.

My life is a spiral.

ED Recovery App without the stress/guilt!

The absolutely gorgeous lady over at The Fat Ballerina posted about a Recovery Record App available for FREE for most smartphones and tablets.

I just downloaded it and haven’t had a chance to explore it thoroughly, but what I read so far on the description and reviews has me excited.

Here’s something that may manage to let me track and log like my brain likes to do; but keep it as positive and guilt-free as possible.  Perhaps avoid too much triggering and encourage some better eating habits.

Please let me know if any of you have already tried it and have opinions or if any of you happen to try it out here soon and want to let me know what you think!

Remember; you are beautiful and braver than you realize!  Be gentle with yourself!

Not Enough

Trigger warning: ED freakout and talk of self-harm

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A search that showed up in the blog stats directed the trigger from general freak-out into full-blown ED centered.

That of course means that I have the power now.

I can see the scars on my thigh from the last time.  I want to open them up again.  Draw those lines.  I want to remind myself.

F-A-T

I need that visual reminder.  So I remember not to eat all those cinnamon rolls.  I need to go to the gym with my coworker.  I need to get rid of all of this.

All of it.

The others forget.  I’m not “normal sized”.  I’m not “thin enough”.  There’s never enough.

I’m not enough of anything.

Just not enough.

But don’t worry, don’t worry.  I’m going to make it better.

I am Ana’s strong will.  I am Ana’s icy breath.  I am Ana’s cold gaze.
I am Ana’s fierce determination.

-Victoria

The Cruel Goddess Ana

Trigger warning for a more in-depth discussion of my eating disorder issues and mentioning of my (stupid) perusal of pro-Ana websites.
I do not want to encourage any eating disorders.  That is not my intent with this post at all.  Please let me know if you find it “pro-eating disorder” because I am not in that mindset, despite my struggle.
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This week is National Eating Disorder Awareness week.  Unfortunately, what it’s done for me is just made me more aware of mine and the fact that I am no where near a stable recovery (though I am trying).

I slipped up today in my perusing of eating disorder blogs.  Usually I’m good and just read the strictly supportive/recovery based ones.  The ones that do not encourage Thinking Thin or Thinspiration or any of that harmful talk.  I found a couple new ones yesterday that were absolutely lovely and gave me all sorts of smiles.

Today I stumbled across a pro-Ana (a term for anorexia) blog.  I didn’t realize it at first because it wasn’t overt like some.  I won’t link it here because that just perpetrates the cycle of harm and I will not be a part of that.

What bothered me was the way the blog talked about the Goddess Ana.  Personifying a disorder into this figure of anti-eating, rib-showing, thigh-gap encouraging “deity” they could pray to for assistance.   I am horrified.  I hate that I immediately got an image of what this goddess would look like.  And she would be cruel.  She would demand constant sacrifice; the blood, sweat, tears, and pounds of her worshipers.

I thought we were past the old days of sacrificing young women to appease the gods.

Apparently not.

We’ve merely moved on to a darker strain of sacrifice.  Instead of a quick knife or even a pyre of flame- it is a slow torture of starvation.  It is giving that little piece of you daily to a tall, impossibly thin and icy eyed woman who says it is never enough.  Just a couple more pounds.  Always just a couple more.  Her mouth is a black hole and it devours your strength, your health, your sanity with gulping force, the sharp teeth glittering in a border of poisoned words.

And words have power.  I give this goddess power merely by encouraging this descriptive personification.  I can’t help it.  But I will not let such a cruel goddess rule me.  I line my personal angels and guardians up around me.  I do not look into her eyes or step anywhere near that gaping mouth.  I will not dedicate myself to a goddess who demands such a high sacrifice.

I will not.

And I can only hope that other women and girls (and men and boys) will find the strength to turn away.  To know that they are beautiful just as they are.  They were beautiful all those weeks ago before they heard the call of the Goddess Ana.  Before the siren’s song started.

We are stronger than we know.

Be gentle, be loving, be strong.  You are worth it.

 

http://nedawareness.org/

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Note:  I purposely put some tags that may seem slightly “pro-Ana” in hopes that someone will stumble across this post when looking for tips or encouragement.  And I hope this encouragement of a different sort, of a truly positive sort, will start the healing process.
Happy National Eating Disorder Awareness week.