I love music. It has such power to uplift the weary soul and inspire one to go just that extra distance, just that one step further. In music, I find peace and solace. My heart sways silently along with the melodies, lulling me to cruise along with them like a boat being nudged ever so gently by the waves. In the lyrics that express the cries of the human heart, I find meaning and a sense of validation that it is human to feel all that I’m feeling. Through the words sung out loud, I recognize that it’s not wrong or bad to feel. It’s just is – a part of being human. During my university days when I was deep in anorexia, I would get frightening nightmares almost every night, of snakes strangling me, or having to run away from horrifyingly gruesome creatures, or of the conflicts in the family. I’d wake up drenched in sweat, shaking beneath my duvet. Then, I’d play the songs that I had on my laptop or the CD of worship songs that Sleepypig had made for me. It was only then that I was able to fall back to sleep again, knowing that I was safe in the arms of God.

Just yesterday, I came across this song: “I’m Alive” by Kenny Chesney and Dave Matthews. It’s such a beautiful song and its lyrics really struck a chord in me.

I’m Alive by Kenny Chesney and Dave Matthews

So damn easy to say that life’s so hard
Everybody’s got their share of battle scars
As for me, I’d like to thank my lucky stars
That I’m alive and well
It’d be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smoulders in the rain
But not me, I’m alive.

Chorus:
And today, you know, that’s good enough for me
Breathing in and out’s a blessing, can’t you see
Today’s the first day of the rest of my life
And I’m alive and well
Yeah, I’m alive and well.

— Instrumental —

Stars are dancin’ on the water here tonight
It’s good for the soul and there’s not a soul in sight
This boat has caught it’s wind and brought me back to life
Now I’m alive and well.

Chorus:
And today, you know, that’s good enough for me
Breathing in and out’s a blessing, can’t you see
Today’s the first day of the rest of my life
Now I’m alive and well
Yeah, I’m alive and well.

Recovery can be an adventure. Recovery can also be a long, tiring journey. Sometimes, I get discouraged. I ask myself, “Is it really worth it?” I wonder whether I’ll ever get there when just surviving the next day seems so difficult. I sometimes almost wish there is no tomorrow so that I didn’t need to hang on so much. But as I floundered about in that sinking sand of all those depressing thoughts, I had forgotten one thing. I am still alive! I am still here, drawing the next breath. And then the next. And the next. This alone is so much cause for hope, because being alive means now is NOT the time to give up. For some reason that I may not know yet, God is still sustaining me to continue the battle. Still being here means that I am not yet ripe for glory. God still has work to do in me, and recovery is all part of that moulding. And who knows? I may be closer than I think. The next moment may bring a breakthrough. It is all a matter of patience, persistence, and time.

In recovery, I’ve adopted a double-sided view of “one day”. Some days are just ‘bad’ days where everything doesn’t go well. I feel like a total failure and I am tempted to give up. Then, I remember that today is just “one day”. Tomorrow is yet another new day to make a fresh beginning. As Sleepypig reminded me, I can always treat today as another phase in my recovery. Just because I struggled with eating today doesn’t mean that I will regress all the way back (Note: that is yet another black-and-white thinking that I am so prone to). Today is just another learning opportunity and I just have to take each day as it comes. Sometimes, I try my best and it doesn’t seem enough. But that’s ok. Rome wasn’t built in a day. I just have to keep at it. Bit by bit, it all adds up. But on the flip side, today is “THE one day” of my life. Every day is important, because it is a day that God has made. It is a day that I can learn lessons that I can keep for a lifetime. It can also be a day that I may make a significant step forward in recovery. As the song lyrics say, today’s the first day of the rest of my life. How will I choose to live it? So here’s the question of the day: What gives you comfort and peace when you feel down? What has served as your beacon of light in your darkest hours?

Yesterday, I met up with two of my bestest friends and what a wonderful time we had! We ate at TCC (The Coffee Connoisseur). I am slowly venturing out to eat Western meals now. In the past, I could only eat soupy stuff and Japanese food. Now, I slowly dare to suggest to eat other things. That is such freedom! I had smoked salmon with avocado mash and walnut bread. It was delicious! It was only after I had finished the meal that I realized the significance of itl. I had eaten it so naturally I hadn’t even taken notice. Avocados and walnuts are two foods I fear. Yes, I do fear lots of things, thanks to Ed. But this time, I didn’t feel guilty about having it at all. In fact, I loved the warmly toasted walnut bread and the avocado mash was really tasty. I don’t know what went into it. I just know that I enjoyed it and there is freedom in not knowing too. Whee! More than a year ago, my two friends and I were having dinner at the very same restaurant, and I almost couldn’t eat a single thing on the menu. I think I had some salmon dish, but even then, I couldn’t eat much. Yesterday, dinner was just part of the whole outing. And a very enjoyable part indeed. Also, though my two friends ordered things that I might consider safer than mine like salad and mushroom spaghetti, I didn’t feel anxious at all. I have to focus on what Valerie needs. I know my body needs the carbs, protein, vitamins and other nutrition. Besides, my friends may have had other food earlier or they might have supper later. Who knows? What I need to do is to look after my own needs and not bother too much because I know my friends can take care of themselves too. I eat the portion that is right for me and that does it. I really enjoyed the dinner outing tremendously. These are the things that remind me that recovery is worth it! I’m not just saying this to make myself believe it. I’m saying it because I am experiencing it right now and I really do believe it. Recovery is worth it and I’ll never want to exchange it for the hell Ed has offered me.

The past is cast, the future allures and the present, a gift. ~Anom Aziz

Yes, the present is a gift. Go on and live it to the fullest, dear friends. And if ever you need some comfort in your struggles, just remember that I am here too, struggling with you and hanging on. We can make it together, by God’s amazing grace. =)

I’m back! After being caught up in a whirlwind of activity for the past 4 days, I feel like I can finally take a breather now. I’m still dead beat though, so please excuse me if I start rambling on without making sense. =P

What do I love about Brisbane?

I love that the whole place is just buzzing with energy and positive vibes. It’s such a place full of sunshine. Though Mum and Dad complain that it’s too hot, I seldom complain that anywhere is “too hot”. After spending 4 long, gloomy years in London, I’ve learnt to appreciate the sun. With the river meandering like graceful water snake through the city, what more can one ask for?

I love that not only is the place full of sunshine, the people there are full of sunshine too! They put on a smile and say “NO WORRIES”, even when you can’t help them out with their queries. They put on a smile when they say “Thank-ee”. They put on a smile when they serve you and greet you. It all rubs on and I found myself smiling along with them too!

I love that they have whole fruit stores solely dedicated to selling fruits in a shopping mall.

I love that the cashiers help you pack your purchases at the supermarket. In London, customers pack their own stuff. There, I often found myself in a frenzy, especially when I had just bought a week’s worth of groceries and the customer behind was staring at me with red-hot iron coal eyes, willing me to hurry up and get on with it. After that experience in London, I’m come to appreciate cashiers who do that for me. Never, ever take them for granted. Point taken.

I love that they have such a wide variety of breads, waffles, wraps, and whatnot. I found myself craving for sandwiches when I was there though I was never a big sandwich fan back here in Singapore. I was really spoilt for choice. I wish, I wish, I wish we had such a sandwich culture in Singapore too. =P

I love that they have Christian radio stations in Brisbane. I’ve always wished that we had such radio stations in Singapore. I like CDs, but the problem with CDs is that the songs are finite and I have to keep changing them which I’m often much too lazy to. So usually I have the same disc playing again and again and again for 2 weeks or more.

I have many more things I love about Brisbane, but I’d probably bore you out if I continue rattling on with my list. So on to the next subject. Updates on the trip! We arrived early in the morning at around 6am. After going to all the customs, I tackled one of my biggest fear foods – cheese. Ever since I had Ed, I’ve been avoiding cheese. If I could, I would have run away from cheese of any form in a jiffy. At the very most, I’d take a very very tiny cube. Even then, I’d feel sorely guilty about it. But on Thursday morning, I had a ham and cheese wrap with a luxuriously delicious slices of cheese rolled into it at Brumbys.

I’d almost forgotten what cheese really tasted like until that moment. In that instant, I recalled how much I used to adore cheese. Dad would bring back whole chunks of cheese from Europe and I’d just slice them up and munch them with carrots for teatime. It was insanely addictive. Yet Ed caused me to lose all of that love for cheese. Can you just imagine how delirious I was just to be able to eat it again after so long? Just when I thought I had hit my maximum, God had other plans for me. It turned out that I had cheese not just for one day. Not just for two days. Nope. I had cheese for all 3 days when I was there! How amazing is that? And I didn’t feel guilty at all. I had cheese with ham. Cheese with Subway. Cheese with pumpkin tofu. It was awesome! Woo hoo!

Dad rented his Toyoto Corolla car and we drove to our apartment which was fantastic to say the least. It was fully equipped with everything, from kitchen utensils to bathroom knick-knacks. There was also a cosy sitting room where we could sit down and enjoy the night scenery as it was overlooking the river. It was in this apartment that I spent one of my most enjoyable family times with my family. It was nice waking up and seeing my sis sleeping beside me. I feel safe when I’m sleeping with her, just like we did when we were little. For more than 5 years, our family has been kind of separated since sis and I were pursuing our studies overseas. But now, we’re all together again. Sure, adjustments will have to be made. But it’s a brand new chapter and I’m really looking forward to know my sis on a deeper level.

Oh, in case you’re wondering, cute little Winnie the Pooh did NOT come with the apartment. It’s one of my sis’s favorite. We both have a soft spot for Pooh bears. Hehe. After doing all that last-minute frantic packing-up for sis, her graduation ceremony came. I’m so so so very proud of her! She looked so very super smart and radiant in that graduation gown of hers.

As I watched her receiving her certificate, I started thinking about my university days. The “Miss Comparison” in me started acting up again. I began begrudging my own university experience. I wondered what it would be like if I had gone to Australia to study instead of London. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten Ed? Maybe I would have enjoyed myself even more? Maybe I would have become more cheerful and outspoken? The thing I regretted the most was that when I went up to receive my certificate on my graduation day, Ed was right there with me, taking all the glory. He told me leeringly that I wouldn’t have done it without him. He had been my solace and my crutch for all 4 years of my university and I am ashamed to say that in that respect, he’s right. He did help me to survive. He had been my survival mechanism when I knew no other way to live.

But I thought further about it. Then I realized that I really have nothing to complain about.

If I hadn’t gone to London, I wouldn’t have had the chance to experience winter in its full glory. I absolutely loved walking in the midst of falling snow. I always felt as if I was being whisked away in a reindeer-driven sled to a magical wonderland with snowflakes dancing all around me.

If I hadn’t gone to London, I wouldn’t appreciate the warm cosiness of snuggling up in a cafe together with good friends and enjoying a cup of piping hot tea.

If I hadn’t gone to London, I probably wouldn’t have had the opportunity to travel to so many places in Europe like Norway, Spain, Ireland, Scotland, Greece and experience so many different cultures.

If I hadn’t gone to London, I wouldn’t have met Sleepypig and so many good friends whom I love and treasure.

So if I had the chance to do it all over again, guess what? I wouldn’t change a thing. I did all that I had wanted to do in those years of university, and I have no regrets at all apart from Ed. Maybe if I had gone to Brisbane, things might have been different. I might have turned out differently. It would have been a different experience. But my London experience was different too. Different, but special in its own way. So often, we look enviously at what others have and fail to appreciate what we do have in our own lives. For me now, I give thanks to God that dear sis had a time of her life in uni. And I give thanks to God that I had a time of my life in uni too!

The past 3 days wasn’t all that rosy for me though. I did struggle with Ed too. Meal times were irregular and I got anxious at some points, especially when the graduation ceremony ended rather late and we hadn’t had dinner yet. Also, meeting sis stirred up the ashes of all those horrid feelings I felt one year ago when I was in the midst of a relapse. During those few months, poor sis got affected too and we even had to attend counselling together.

Sometimes, recovery is like a crossword puzzle. We are given many clues and each clue points to a piece of the puzzle. At times, I just don’t get it. I scratch my head and pull my hair. But I still don’t get it. I don’t understand what God is trying to teach me at all. So I move on with my life. I continue solving and filling in the blanks for other parts. Then one fine day, I come back again to the very same piece that had confounded me ages ago. Suddenly, Eureka! I get it! Finally! Slow maybe. But at least I got it.

One year ago, my relationship with sis was rocky. I couldn’t get used to the change in her and we didn’t know how to adjust to each other. Neither did Mum and Dad. While we were in the midst of it, like tectonic plates shifting, my family underwent enormous stress and strain. We had to learn to talk things through and be open with each other. We had to look at the problem straight in the face and deal with it head-on. I learnt that not being used to her and the changes in our relationship was no excuse not to work at it. It was just something we had to get through in order to get to where we wanted to be. Preoccupation and the focus on the food and eating was just a symptom of underlying stresses in our relationships. Once we have those dealt with, the problems with eating automatically dissolves away. Now one year on, I feel that we’ve all matured, both as individuals and our relationship. We know what went wrong the previous time and by gleaning the lessons learnt from the past, we are all determined to work it through this time. The experience one year ago was a preparation for what is to come. For example, during the Brisbane trip, they knew, and I knew, that I was stressed about eating. We talked about it and that made things much better. The initial feelings of discomfort subsided to a mere whisper, unlike in the past when it kept escalating till the volcano burst out in fiery flames.

We ended our trip on a pleasant note because our seats got upgraded to Business class!!! Woo hoo! Can you imagine my joy? What a treat! Here’s what I had for lunch on the plane…

Red snapper with mussels, squid and mashed potatoes. Yum yum...

I even had a piece of chocolate the air stewardess offered after the meal. It was so delicious! I took my time to savor it. The outside had a hard crust shaped somewhat like a cupcake. The inside was made of soft, smooth dark chocolate. I could even taste the subtle overtones of coffee and liquor. There was also a layer of milk chocolate topped with a cute coffee bean. Wonderful! It took much courage to be able to reach out and take the chocolate that’s offered me, especially since it’s something ‘extra’ apart from the meal. But this time, I did it! =)

Of course, I still have some way to go. I know that I still don’t eat very intuitively and I still don’t really trust my hunger signals, especially when my meal times are thrown into confusion like during the trip. But I’m thankful for God’s sustenance over the past 4 days, for revealing to me what I still do have to work on and for reminding me not to be complacent in my recovery, but to continue to forge ahead, step by step, one day at a time.

Phew! What a week it’s been. I’m off to get some beauty rest now. But before that, here’s a little something to inspire you for the week ahead… Tata, my dearies. =)

It is mystifying how I can be happily cruising along life’s river, believing that things will always continue this way. Then suddenly, something grabs me rudely by the arm, flings me down dizzying heights, and sends me hurtling down another totally different path, one filled with unexpected twists and sharp turns. At the end of the ride, a disquieting silence takes over. I look all around and check if I am still all in one piece. The pathetic feeling of being like a lone lamb all lost and forlorn is overwhelming.  It is at this moment that I start to listen hard for any soft whisper, any faint murmur, anything that will give me the answers, the comfort, the peace that I am seeking.

Yesterday started off as any normal day. But in the afternoon, I found myself in Changi General Hospital going through one of the most surreal experiences in my lifetime. I was there to say my last goodbye to Ah Chor, my 100-year-old great grandma. As I mentioned in my previous post, she has not been well. A recent bout of pneumonia landed her in hospital, and it is proving fatal. Her organs have shut down and the doctor has administered the dose of morphine to lessen the pain so that she may go without any suffering. Now, we can only wait and wait and wait for the time the Lord will call her home.

I met many of my relatives, some of whom I have never seen before. We have all gathered for one purpose – to bid farewell to this lovely lady whose life has touched so many. Due to the language barrier, my exchanges with Ah Chor have been limited. Her silver-white hair is always tied up neatly in a bun and her smile is an endearing embellishment to the already fragrant aura she emanates. As we sat outside the ward, I listened as Mum recounted how she and her cousins would run to Ah Chor and beg for a few coins to buy their ice-cream treat. Ah Chor would never turn them away, but she would secretly beseech them not to tell the boys because she didn’t have enough money. When they were ill, she would whip out her potent, cure-all remedy of Coca-Cola mixed with salt. Of course that gave them the instant perk to get better. She was also always ready to forgive her family members no matter what wrongdoings they committed. Her life was difficult, but she was uncomplaining. She took it all in her stride. If you have ever suspected a single person can have an impact on the world, doubt no more. Just look at my Ah Chor. Here is a woman so beautiful in her simplicity. She is just an ordinary woman – a wife, a mother, a daughter. She never clamoured for fame or fortune. She simply carried out her duties in the family and loved each person around her unconditionally. Yet, I believe that the love she has shown and her contented attitude towards life will trickle down to touch many, many generations after her.

Death and dying in the family always hits me the hardest. Where is the place my loved ones have gone to? What does it look like? Are they happy there? Death seems like an insurmountable gulf separating the living and the dead. But perhaps, it is simply a line we all have to cross someday. When we die, we don’t just cease to exist. We just change our address, from this world to another. I guess these questions will always be with me as long as I live here on earth. But I take comfort in the fact that one day, I will go to a much more beautiful dwelling. As C.S. Lewis puts it:

The faint, far-off results of those energies which God’s creative rapture implanted in matter when he made the worlds, are what we now call physical pleasures; and even thus filtered, they are too much for our present management. What would it be to taste that fountainhead that stream of which even those lower reaches prove so intoxicating? Yet that, I believe, is what lies before us in heaven. The whole man is to drink joy from the fountain of joy. In light of our depraved appetites we cannot imagine this.

As I whispered in Ah Chor’s ear knowing that this is probably the last time I’d get to say to her “I love you”, I felt the past, present and future of her life converge and collide to this final point of death. Her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren remembering the gift of her presence that she had bestowed upon each of them. Her body presently lying there, limp and motionless on the hospital bed apart from the laboured inhalation of air through her mouth. And the future, so bright and dazzling, welcoming and beckoning her to enter. Is this death? Nay. This is life! This is just the beginning of the life that she will have an entire eternity to enjoy!

This has made me realize not to take my life and my recovery for granted. To tell the truth, I was feeling down the whole day today. As is typical of me, I talk much less when I feel sad. But at the end of the day, I realized that I haven’t been running away from my feelings this time. Yes, I admit it. I am sad. And I allow myself to be so. In the past, Ed would have used this as the perfect excuse to relapse. It would be the guilt-tripping tactic because I would be asking myself, “How can I be here eating when the world out there is suffering so much?” I would have felt so selfish for trying to take care of myself. But now, I know that that is no excuse to stop eating because I can only help and serve others if I am here myself. Here physically and mentally. Not languishing in bed feeling exhausted because I have not eaten anything. Not given over to obsessive thoughts about calorie counting or exercising. This may be just one of the many tests in recovery. I believe that tests strengthen recovery. As they come along, I learn not to allow external circumstances beat down my will to recover. I also learn to cope with painful, difficult, uncomfortable feelings so that I no longer resort to Ed to numb them or push them away. This time, I feel sad but I don’t try to brush it away. I let myself grieve and I try to cope with the sadness better by writing and talking to my parents. It helps me to reconcile the idea of life and death.

I have also learnt the value of family ties, friendships and relationships.  I realize that I can enjoy the people around me. Not just my relationship with them but to enjoy them as a person created so uniquely. Many times, we look for the flaws in a person. We begrudge someone for inconveniencing us. We pick on his little faults. But we fail to see how much of him we can enjoy if we choose to look past these little things to uncover the treasures that lie behind.

I leave you with this quote today by T.S. Eliot:

“There’s no vocabulary for love within a family; love that’s lived in but not looked at, love within the light of which all else is seen, the love within which all other love finds speech. This love is silent.”

Tomorrow, I will be heading to Brisbane for my dear little sis’s graduation! Whee! I’m soooo looking forward to seeing her again! One year ago, Ed had threatened to rock our relationship and drive a wedge between us. But we weathered the storm together. Though there is still some apprehension and I expect there will be adjustments to make, I believe that we can do it, by God’s grace. I’ll be back again in the blogging world on Sunday. Meanwhile, be good and gonna miss you wonderful peeps so very much!

I am blessed. Truly blessed.

My birthday came. And went. But the beautiful memories of it remain firmly etched in my memory. I know that I will always look back on this day, 4 Dec 2009, with fondness, knowing that this world, plagued with all its tragedies, is still a beautiful place. The thoughtfulness and sincerity of each and every birthday gift or message simply touched me to the core. I even received two carebears from a dear friend who knows I love carebears. Hehe… one’s never too old for carebears! Mum and Dad gave me a cross pendant and Mum wrote to me,

“I pray that the cross which you’ve worn is always close to your heart and it’ll remind you of the love Christ has bestowed upon you and how he has died on the cross for all of our sins. And it also serves to remind you of our immense and deep love for you. You’re a gift from God to us and we love you deeply and treasure you lots. Though you may be 25 this day, in our eyes, you’re still our little, precious girl.”

What beautiful words! I almost teared when I read that. As for the birthday dinner, we headed to “The White Rabbit”. It’s housed in a restored old chapel off Dempsey Hill and serves classic European food. It wasn’t too pricey but the service was good and it made us feel at home. I’ll let the pictures do the talking now…

Lobster sweetcorn chowder - corn chowder made with slipper lobster and drizzled with tarragon oil

My main course - curried black cod served on a bed of spinach and topped with wild rice puffs, together with garlic bread (which isn't shown here)

Mum's main course - pan roasted salmon, served with confit of fennel and citrus ginger beurre blanc

Dad's main course - a hearty roasted rack of lamb, served with imam bayildi, baby eggplant stew cooked with onions, tomatoes and spices, and a saffron jus

I guess I needn’t say much. It was so good that we licked our plates clean. Superb! Of course, that said, I’m no food connoisseur. But I was truly satisfied with the meal. What’s more, I thoroughly enjoyed just sitting there, relaxing and chatting with my parents. It felt just like those Saturday family outings that we used to have when I was little. My dearest sis wasn’t around to celebrate with us this time, but she’ll be back next week after 4 long years of university studies in Brisbane. Woo hoo! (I’m proud of you, sis!) Can’t wait for her to be back! And I wasn’t anxious about anything at all. No, Ed was not invited to the dinner, and he didn’t come either. =)

Sometimes, it doesn’t have to take much to make a person happy.

When I was a baby, even hearing the sound of a rattle would tickle me and my eyes would light up when Daddy lifted me up to sit on his strong shoulders. I felt like I was on the top of the world looking down. As I grew older, I started clamoring for more things. More friends. More presents. More of everything. But now, I realized that I don’t need a lot of everything. Simple things make me happy too. A heartwarming meal with my family. A simple message from a friend. Sharing a story with someone, knowing that the person bothers to listen. A beary hug. My heart already overflows with happiness from all these simple pleasures in life. It must be one of the most supreme joys on earth to be surrounded by love. When was the last time you smile, truly smiled from within? What are the things that make you happy? What are your simple pleasures in life?

Call me sentimental. Call me mushy. Whatever. But I really want to say from the bottom of my heart that I truly love every person that has made my life so special. Of course, that includes you. Each of you who bothers to take time to read what I write. It means so much! =) To be honest, I know that I still struggle with fleeting visitations from Ed. Sometimes in the morning, I wake up and stare at the mirror. My face looks much fleshier (and healthier) and fear strikes me. Sometimes, Ed tempts me with images of other people who look thinner than me and I feel a tinge of jealousy that I am no longer like that. But I know that returning to that place is no longer an option. I have come too far. Giving up on all that I’ve worked up to up till this point is tantamount to telling Ed that he still has a rein over me. No. He doesn’t hold the ruling scepter any longer. All this joy that I’m now experiencing is something that Ed has no way of providing me with. Never. Ever. All he does is snatch it from me.

Speaking about simplicity, my great-grandma is someone who has always inspired me. She is so simple, and yet so virtuous in her simplicity. The smallest things make her happy. Yesterday, I went to visit her in hospital as she is having a lot of difficulty breathing. She’s already 100 years old. A centenarian! Her chest was heaving up and down and I think she must be having a lot of trouble taking in air because her face was all red. Her arms were all bruised too because her skin is paper thin. Yet, in the midst of the suffering, she still smiled with her eyes closed when Mum called her “Ah Ma” (she can no longer open her eyes as her eye muscles have lost their function). She is such a sweet lady.

I once read this…

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”

“Gone where?”

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “There, she is gone!” there are other eyes watching her coming, and there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

And that is dying.

I will certainly miss my great-grandma, my “Ah Chor” so dearly when she goes someday, just like how I miss my grandma now. But it is comforting to know that she is only going to another better place. Maybe one day I will see her again, running, jumping, leaping, with a body that is so much stronger and healthier than now.

I’ll tell you the truth. I never liked going to hospitals. Sometimes I go the hospital with Mum to help feed patients on Saturdays. I do feel happy to be able to help those patients. But I also feel my heart breaking when I see them, especially the elderly. Some are abandoned by their family members who don’t come to visit. Some lie huddled under the blankets, fingers gnarled, whimpering in pain. Some are hooked up to the oxygen mask, unconscious and unaware of what’s going on in the world out there. There is always a big clock on the wall in every ward. I also feel that time passes by so slowly there. They have their breakfast. Sleep. Lunch at 11 plus. Sleep. Tea. Sleep. Dinner at 5 plus. Supper at 8 plus. Then time to sleep again until the next morning. That is, if no excruciating pain or worries keep them awake. I observe them eating. Some have to be tube fed. Some have trouble even balancing a piece of tofu on their spoon. The whole movement to deliver a single morsel from the plate to their mouth seems fraught with difficulty.

In the hospital, I am faced with the harsh realities of life. We all die one day. When I was little, I watched Chinese drama serials of emperors who search for an elixir that will enable them live forever. There is no such pill. One day, I too will have to take Jesus’ hand and let Him lead me home to His eternal dwelling. I thank God for every trial and suffering I have to endure, for it makes me loosen my grasp of this world. They teach me to live in this world to prepare for the next. Because of them, I know that heaven is not just a destination but somewhere I crave and long for. Death is simply a gate that marks the entrance to HOME. The question is: what will I choose to do between now and that time?

Yesterday, as I gazed at each patient in the ward, I was reminded not to take my life for granted. I could have died from my eating disorder. But I was given a second chance. I was given new life. While those patients lack the energy to even feed themselves, I still can run, jump and yes, eat. I still can enjoy food. I still have my family with me. I am blessed. Truly blessed. How I want to live my life from this point on till the final day is a choice. My choice. To remain chained to Ed and his suffocating ways. Or to walk in the opposite direction, towards freedom. That is the question. I choose the latter. How about you? How do you want your life to count?

When I was little, I read this story adapted from “The Starfish Thrower” by Loren Eiseley. You might have heard of it too. It goes like this:

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”

“I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, “But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, “It made a difference for that one.“

It just struck me that recovery can feel a lot like that too. Sometimes, when I glance ahead and see how much I have left to work on, I let out a big sigh of exasperation. I feel so tempted to say, “I give up! It’s too much for me to handle.” Especially at the start of recovery, my life just seemed to be one big mess. Just look at what I had to work on. I couldn’t even feel my own hunger signals, something babies do so naturally. I didn’t know how to stop exercising. I was scared even of drinking water. I didn’t know how to set boundaries. I was afraid of talking to people. I was such a perfectionist I drove myself up the wall trying to be the best and expecting others to conform to what I wanted them to do. And I had all those thorny emotional issues that I couldn’t figure out at all. Talking about my past was such a painful, heart-wrenching experience that I wouldn’t have been able to do so without the help of my counselor. Even now, I still feel like I have lots to work on…

• coping with social situations
• not feeling ashamed/judged about eating
• tackling fear foods
• being more flexible in food choices and meal times
• learning not to fear big dinners and set lunches/dinners
• learning to heed my hunger signals
• learning to express myself better
• learning to deal with painful emotions

As I look at the long list that I have to work on (and it’s still growing), I question my reasons for choosing such a difficult path. I allow my eyes to wander to the temptingly greener pasture called Ed that suddenly seems full of lollipops and chirpy birds singing. I begrudge my own pathetic plight for opting for the tougher way and I wonder if I’m being foolish or just pure stubborn. All too often, I want everything restored all at once. I want to be “fully recovered” immediately and not waste my time battling this stupid eating disorder that is ruining my life.

But along the way, I’ve learnt that being focused and setting small goals for myself is important in recovery. Expecting myself to be completely recovered is yet another black-and-white thinking that I am ever so prone to. It was EITHER I’m fully recovered OR I am a failure. I didn’t allow any in-betweens. But there ARE in-betweens. Recovery is an in-between. In fact, depending on your definition of recovery, recovery can be called “life”! Recovery is choosing to live life on life’s terms. Since no man is perfect (at least not until Jesus comes again), I will always have things to improve on. In fact, some things that I work on in recovery, such as my self-consciousness in large crowds, may be things that even non eating-disordered people suffer from too. As I make my way through life, things keep cropping up. Just when I think I’ve made an improvement on one aspect of my life, God reveals to me another aspect that I need to work on. Instead of getting frustrated and condemning myself for not being there yet (like the young man who is not able to save all the dying starfishes on the shore), why not go with the attitude of “Let me make a difference to this one.“

‘This one’ can take the form of many things. For example, my perfectionist tendencies often led me to disregard my health because I didn’t allow myself to rest. To me, resting was wasting time which could be better spent doing more “productive” things. So, making a difference to “this one” just meant setting aside time to just chill out for awhile everyday. It also meant learning exactly how much rest I needed everyday so that I didn’t try to overpack my schedule with too many things.

Or… since tomorrow’s my birthday, I decided that this year, I wanna eat out for dinner with my parents. I chose a nice restaurant recommended by my friend and I’m definitely looking forward to it. So to me, I’ve decided that making a difference to ‘this one’ means the following:

• To enjoy the conversation and the ambience of the restaurant with my parents
• To truly savoring the food
• To listen to my hunger signals and eat till I’m full
• To sample some foods I’ve never tried before
• Not to get anxious about dinner being later than usual

These are my goals for the dinner – small challenges that I’ve set for myself as part of my work towards recovery. That’s how I try to make a difference, bit by bit. =)

As we change ourselves for the better, the ripples will spread to touch not only ourselves but also the people around us.

Under the Creative Commons Attribution Sharealike 2.0 licence

For example, by allowing myself enough rest, I find that I have much more energy during the day. I can engage better in conversations with friends. While in the past, my face would be sullen and grim during my evening walks with Mum and Dad, now I have the presence of mind to tell them what’s going on in my life and to listen to them telling me about their day too. I also have a clearer mind to do my work. I feel so much more alive, cheerful and happy! =) And not only that, I can serve other people better as well. I have energy to do my volunteer work. I can share love with the people around me. I accomplish much more than when I am sick and exhausted all the time. In short, I’m falling in love with life all over again! Woo hoo!

Sometimes when I think of Ed, an image of a huge ugly monster pops up in my mind. He’s like a big boulder that plops himself in the middle of MY road, refusing to budge or give way. I keep telling him to scram, but he just doesn’t wanna move! Well, in such cases, there’s only one way to deal with him. Be a monster too! Grrrrr! Hehe… just joking. But what I really mean is… to take my stand against him and not give in, no matter how he tries to bargain with me or sweet-talk me or frighten me. Ed has set all sorts of rules for me. But I have come up with my own list of non-negotiables that I won’t compromise with, at least not at this stage of recovery. I don’t see these are rules that I HAVE TO abide by. Instead, I see them as safeguards. Just like how a person in remission from cancer must always keep an eye open for signs of relapse, so as someone in recovery from an eating disorder, I must do what I can to protect my recovery. This may mean refraining from things that other people can do. But this is all part and parcel of learning to care for myself.

My Non-Negotiables

1. To keep trying new foods every week. I know that once I allow myself to settle into a routine of eating the same things everyday, it gets increasingly difficult for me to break out of it and to summon the courage to try other things. So I have to keep the momentum going.
2. To persevere in writing and journaling my thoughts. My periods of relapse always coincide with the times when I stop writing. Writing keeps me in touch with my feelings and makes me aware of my frame of mind.
3. To open myself up to eating with other people and eating outside food. These are usually occasions I tend to avoid. But the more I isolate, the more the fear accumulates and Ed likes to play on that.
4. Not to skip my meals. Perhaps other people can skip meals and compensate for it later on, but not for me. I know that once I skip, I will be tempted to restrict and starve again. So… flexibility in eating times – yes. But skipping meals – no!

So now, the question for you… what are your non-negotiables in your life? What are the things you stand firm on irregardless of what happens or what others say?

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Earth to E.T. Earth to E.T.

Today’s headlines: Shock landing on planet Earth by extra-terrestrial named E.T. He has communicated that his species is now conducting a study on human biology and his current mission is to collect data on how humans listen to their hunger cues. To do this, he has handpicked several privileged earthlings to give their comments. The first among them is 25-year-old Valerie who stays in her humble abode in sunny Singapore. E.T. has expressed that he is excited about this interview. E.T. is going to learn many new things because he doesn’t know how to feel hunger/fullness while Valerie, the human, does.

Interview with Earthling #1: Valerie

E.T.: So teach me, Valerie. How do you know when you are hungry?

Valerie: Well… the physical sensations of hunger are different for each person. But for me, I know I am hungry when I feel a hollowness in my stomach. It feels like there is a contraction and a certain lightness in my tummy area. I also feel like my throat is a ‘free’ passageway for things to pass through, unlike when I’m full.  There are different levels of hunger though. For example, I know I am famished when my stomach starts growling and there is an aching, squeezing sensation in my stomach, almost as if I can feel the gastric juices oozing out.

E.T.: That sounds clear enough. How about fullness? When do you know when to stop eating?

Valerie: I know I’m full and satisfied when I feel an expansion in my abdomen area. There will be a heaviness and a warm sensation that tells me “I’m full!” And contrary to when I’m hungry, my throat will feel tight and closed when I am full, as if it has just been ‘capped’. That’s how I gauge when to stop eating. Like hunger, there are also different levels of fullness.

E.T.: Ok. Humans need water to hydrate themselves too, don’t they? How do you know when you’re thirsty?

Valerie: That’s easy. I know I’m thirsty when I feel a dryness in my throat and at the back of my tongue. My lips will also feel dry. That’s when I grab a beverage to quench my thirst.

E.T.: Last question. When do you stop drinking?

Valerie: No problemo. I stop drinking when my mouth and lips no longer feel dry and there is a coolness in my stomach and throat. That’s when I know that my body has been replenished with the amount of water that I need.

E.T.: Thank you. That was very specific. Exactly the help I need. Perhaps my fellow E.T.s can learn to live like humans too.

Valerie: Yes, E.T. We humans have an in-built mechanism that tells us our levels of hunger and thirst. We just have to listen to it, trust it, and allow it to guide us. We are indeed wonderfully created. Speaking of eating is making me hungry now. So I’m just gonna grab a bite. See you, E.T.! Come visit again!

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Getting in sync with my body’s hunger and fullness cues was one of the biggest challenges in my recovery journey. I just didn’t trust my body to tell me what and how much to eat. Often when faced with a plate of food, I would start feeling queasy and uncomfortable. Before I even started tucking into the food, my mind would jump ahead and chastise me, “You should not be eating this amount. It is too much.” I also relied on other people’s signals to tell me what I should be feeling, instead of relying on my own internal compass to tell me what I am really feeling. For example if at lunchtime, my friend said, “I’m not hungry,” I’d immediately feel guilty for feeling hungry myself and so I’d think, “I’m full too,” even when I was really starved and longing for food. The more ’should’s and ‘must’s I imposed on myself, the more I restricted. The more I restricted, the more I desired those forbidden foods. The more I desired, the more appalled I became at my own appetite which I thought knew no bounds. Soon, hunger and fullness became feelings to be feared. So I’d try to silence them with a deadly blow. At any time of the day, I’d always tell myself “I’m full. I’m full. I’m full.” just to ward off having to eat. This spared me the agony of having to listen to my body.

When I started on recovery, I kept asking Dad and my counselor, “What if I lose control?”, “What if my body cues are wrong?”, “What if I trust my stomach and it leads me to overeat?”, “What if I start eating and never stop?” It was a step-by-step process of firstly learning to discern and recognize my body signals, and then taking that leap of faith to trust and heed it. One of my beginning strategies was to write down on a piece of paper, “Am I hungry? Am I full?” I’d place it in front of me when I was eating and at certain intervals during my meal, I’d ask myself these questions.

Just recently, I have started noticing the specific physical sensations that tell me when I’m hungry and when I’m full. I also find it helpful to rate my level of hunger on a scale of 1-10, 1 being “famished” and 10 being “overstuffed”. Of course, it was discouraging when I first started off because I only knew how to distinguish the very dramatic signals of “famished” and “overstuffed”. Well, most of the time at the start, I’d feel bloated, as if a bowling ball had just settled itself in my stomach and I was going to explode any minute. But as I slowly allowed myself to really “feel” and to trust my body to regain those feelings, I found that there are indeed varying levels of hunger and fullness. I don’t have to be “famished” to be able to eat something. I can be at a 3 or 4, or even 6 and still be able to eat something. It just depends on how much I want to eat and how much energy I need to be able to sustain my body for the activities I needed to do. It is also no crime to eat till I am full. When I feel a tightness in my clothes, for example, I know that it is because I have just eaten a full meal and that my stomach is now digesting the food so that it can enter the intestines for further digestion and absorption.

While I have made some progress in discerning my levels of hunger, I am not yet perfect in heeding them. I still do shut the door to my body’s inner wisdom sometimes, especially when I feel stressed or when I am in a social situation when I cannot hear myself properly and I get hijacked by fear and anxiety. But I hope that slowly, I will allow myself to follow what those physical sensations tell me instead of what Ed or society or others shout at me to do. For example, yesterday I took a step forward in learning to listen to my body signals. What happened was that I went to the kitchen to get my usual supper snack before I headed off to bed. Then I saw some chocolate in the fridge. They seemed to be singing to me. I started to crave for them. Though Ed started yelling at me not to eat it, I took it anyway, on top of my night snack, because I just felt like it. And contrary to what Ed tells me, I don’t have an insatiable appetite. I do get satisfied, and my body tells me so. After eating that piece of chocolate, I stopped craving for it. I felt happy. Today, I feel no guilt about eating that ‘extra’ thing at all. In fact, I forgot about it until now. I realized that it must have been because my body was lacking in sugar and the craving was its signal to me.

It was difficult to work up to this step. In the past for instance, I would eat my teatime or my night snack almost immediately after my main meals because I just wanted to get the anxiety over and done with. I couldn’t tolerate the anticipation of having to eat something. Of course, this contributed even more to my feeling of bloatedness since I still ate even though I was full, which further convinced me that I was overeating. Now, I learn to tune in to my body. For example, I know that before I ate dinner today, my fullness level was at a 2 – I was definitely hungry and it was liberating to finally be able to admit “I’m hungry dude! Let’s get some food!” After dinner, my fullness level was at a 8. Now, I am still full since it’s barely an hour after dinner, but I feel like having something crunchy tonight. So on top of my usual night snack, I might have some nuts. Gosh! I haven’t had nuts for a mighty long time! No wonder I’m craving them! Hehe…

My body is wonderfully made. It knows what it needs and what it lacks. It has a healthy set point weight that it likes and that it will fight to maintain. Our culture’s obsession with appearance has caused many people to distrust and dislike their bodies. Can you imagine what the world will be like if people are accepted unconditionally for being at their natural weight and size? What would you do if YOU had unconditional acceptance for your own body at its natural weight and size? What does your body need you to feed it with today? Food? Love? God’s word? Wisdom from others?

This is the famous statue of “David” sculpted by Michelangelo who also painted the Sistine chapel. Here’s what he once said…

“In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me, shaped and perfect in attitude and action. I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to the other eyes as mine see it.”

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

To others, it may have just been a nondescript plain block of marble. But Michaelangelo saw the potential in it. Slowly and painstakingly, he chiselled away till its hidden beauty emerged for all the world to admire. What about you? What do you see in you? Go on. Search deep within. Open your mind’s eye to behold the wondrous, glorious, magnificent beauty of God’s creation – you!

Have you ever taken part in any extreme sports? I’m not sure if abseiling counts, but it was certainly extreme enough for me! I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m REALLY a scaredy cat. You don’t have to be a master sleuth to deduce that. Just have a glance at my records. I took a long time to get used to sleeping alone in the dark. I don’t dare to go for roller-coasters. And I’d even be hesitant about going for those simulator rides where you sit inside that vehicle and it jerks about to give the sensation that you’re actually physically in the adventure. Those just make my head spin and my stomach churn. So it was with much apprehension that I joined an Outward Bound course during my junior college days. I had to do lots of things during the course… canoeing, hiking, staying alone in the forest for one day and one night. I was pretty freaked out the next day when my friends told me that a wild boar had been roaming around our site at night. But none scared me as much as the abseiling activity. In case you’re wondering what abseiling is, here’s a picture of it.

The cliff I tackled wasn’t that high (thank God!), but it was unimaginably frightening all the same. Ok. Maybe some people do get a kick out of battling those height elements. But I don’t. I told you. I’m a scaredy cat. It got much more than my adrenaline going. It also geared my sweat and tear glands into an overdrive. They always say that the first step is always the most difficult. I never realized the truth of that statement until that moment. There I was right on top looking smart and prepared, all buckled up to the harness. But as I peered down, my legs went completely wobbly like jelly. I said weakly to the instructor, “I can’t do it.” She looked right back and said, “So what do you want? To give up and go back?” I gulped. It was an outright challenge. I really, seriously wished I could just run to somewhere far, far away where there wouldn’t have to face this horrible obstacle. But there was another part of me that said, “Just do it!” “Ok,” I decided. “Here goes nothing.” The first step was shaky and I almost lost my footing. That almost sent me plunging straight down. Luckily I managed to regain my balance. Slowly, I steadied myself. After what seemed like eons, I finally made it all the way down to the bottom. I nearly fainted of relief! It was that gruelling! I don’t think I’d ever do abseiling again, but it was certainly an experience of a lifetime!

Recovery feels a lot like that, except maybe worse? As the saying goes, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.“

I first had to make the decision to want to recover. Tentatively, I took the beginning steps. I kept slipping. It felt frightening and discouraging. I wasn’t sure it was worth the risk, but I continued. Along the way, I faltered. I tried to bargain with God. I looked ahead and saw the distance I still had to plough through, and I thought to myself, “I’ve labored for so long and I’m not even halfway. I’m never going to make it!” My determination flagged. But soldier on I did. I had to. To choose recovery was to choose life. The only other option was to cut off the safety harness and surrender to a sure suicide. I wanted to live. Currently, I am still in the midst of recovery. Though I’ve made it through so far, it wasn’t easy and it still isn’t easy. I know that I still have to grit my teeth and hang on. Recovery still requires much effort. Sometimes, I really have to push myself even though I don’t feel like it. But there is joy to be found in recovery. Yes, IN recovery. Not just AFTER recovery, but also IN recovery. I relish every tingle in my spine whenever I manage to try something new. My heart skips a beat when I know that I have conquered yet another fear food. Happiness overflows when I get to share and fellowship with my loved ones, during meals or otherwise. And I am filled with eager anticipation of the end, not just after Ed recedes into the background, but also when I get to meet Jesus finally.

Speaking of challenges, it’s time for accountability check of the week. Apart from trying out two new types of nutrition bars, I had crepes today from “Out of the Pan” at Raffles City. I ordered the Seafood Jungle crepe, so the filling was made of prawns and scallops with a tangy yoghurt sauce.

The purpose of my blog is not so much to comment on food, so I shall not elaborate too much on it. To me, the sheer exhilaration of being able to savor something that I’ve feared for so long was delicious enough. =) Woo hoo! I realized that it wasn’t half as scary as I imagined it to be. Perhaps it’s just my habit of catastrophizing, or maybe, hopefully, it’s because I’m getting used to trying new things. But I don’t worry as much as I used to prior to eating a fear food. It’s more of having to pluck up enough courage to step out of my comfort zone, get out of the house, and keep sampling different things. When I eat things outside, I cannot always predict what I get. But I am now starting to enjoy the excitement of not knowing.

Learning to be assertive is another challenge in recovery. Assertiveness. What a big word. I had no idea what that meant five years ago. I doubt that I had even heard of that word. I had only heard that girls should be gentle, kind, and caring. But to be assertive? Hmm… shouldn’t I always put the needs of others before my own? Won’t I offend people by saying what I really feel? Isn’t it bad to impose myself on others? Now, I realize that I didn’t want to be assertive partly because I didn’t know what being assertive meant, and partly because it is freaking scary to start being assertive when I had been hiding behind shadows my whole life up till this point.

Well… over the course of the past year, I learnt that being assertive really means being able to make my own choices without being passive and neglectful of my own needs or aggressive and insensitive towards the needs of others. It means protecting my rights in a way that respects the rights of others. It means honoring my own thoughts and feelings while respecting the thoughts and feelings of others. It is understanding that my needs are not more or less important than the needs of others. They may be different, but that they are all equally important.

In the past, I always acted as if things were perfectly fine with me. In Primary One, the big boys bullied me on the school bus. My response? I kept quiet. In junior college, I witnessed my classmates gossiping behind a friend’s back. I wanted so much to speak up for him. Unfortunately, my response was…? You guessed it. I kept quiet. In my previous relationship, my feelings were trampled upon. I was coerced to do things I didn’t wish to do. Again, my response regrettably was… remaining silent. I don’t need to go through my entire history to convince you that I am an unassertive person. I later realized that this aspect of my character was one major contributing factor to my development of an eating disorder. Instead of being guided by my own inner compass, I was always controlled by the needs and desires of others. It is not wrong to regard the needs of others as important, but not to the extent of losing your own authentic self. This was exactly what happened to me. I always had to put on a mask to hide what I was really feeling. I became overly focused on how I looked to others. I was so afraid of displeasing or offending people. I didn’t know how to get what I knew was right for me without disregarding the needs of others. I seriously believed that how I thought and felt didn’t matter to anyone at all.

Later, I realized that my eating disorder became my microphone with which I tried to communicate with the world. Not knowing how to express myself any other way, I used food and eating to tell people, “This is what I want! This is what I choose!” So lacking in a sense of self-control, I had to resort to exercising and restricting to feel powerful and in control of myself and others. With no knowledge of how to set appropriate boundaries or to form healthy relationships, I fell into Ed’s embrace to soothe my loneliness.

As I make my journey through recovery, I acknowledge that I do need to be assertive. But knowing and doing are completely different ball games altogether. Especially at the beginning, I often felt like the cat in this picture with a hundred bloodthirsty hounds waiting to pounce on me any minute.

It was that scary! I didn’t know how people were going to react to the new ‘me’. It definitely wasn’t easy to go up to my parents to tell them not to talk about people’s weight and size in front of me because it wasn’t helpful for my recovery. I took ages to work up to a point where I could comfortably suggest places for lunch to my colleagues. I could be stuck in a middle of a conversation with someone and even though I was in a rush, I had such difficulty even saying, “Sorry, I have to go.” Sometimes, like in this Calvin’s prankish ploys, my attempt to be assertive backfired.

Because I was so unused to expressing myself in healthy ways, people just didn’t get it. Some didn’t understand what I was trying to tell them. At other times, I’d feel so horrible and selfish for telling them what I felt. I am still in the process of growing and learning to be more assertive. Like everything else, it is a delicate balance of having to look after my own needs versus respecting the needs of others. But I do know that it is an essential part of recovery. As I learn to establish appropriate boundaries and to set limits, I feel more secure in allowing intimacy and relationships into my life and thus, my need for Ed’s companionship reduces. By expressing my frustrations in healthy ways, I learn not to respond to stress by restricting or overexercising. I also learn to deal with conflicts properly and I recognize that there is room to agree to disagree. I now learn not to turn to Ed to numb out my anxieties and tension. Because I don’t downplay my feelings, I talk it over with my support team and I also reclaim more sense of self-control.

This week, I had been facing some stress at work. I was thankfully reminded during a relaxing chat over tea with a friend yesterday that I can choose how to respond in a positive way that is beneficial for me. “You can choose to say ‘no’, Valerie,” she said. Yes, I can choose. Sometimes, it is not selfish to make choices. Sometimes, it is necessary to make choices. In setting boundaries for ourselves, we free ourselves to truly serve others, not out of fear or with resentment, but from a heart of love.

To end off, here’s a quote by Anais Nin that speaks of the nature of growing…

“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”

If ever you are tempted to compare yourself with someone else, remember that whether we realize it or not, we are all growing, in different ways, at different rates. We are all made uniquely and we also function uniquely. Focus simply on your own growing. Blossom into the person YOU are truly meant to be. Go on and shine for all you’re worth! Sending my hugs to everyone of you… =)

Today’s post will be a short one coz I’m knackered! Seriously, I’m sooo tired I think I’ll just fall asleep once my bum touches the bed. =P But anyway, I will keep those heavy eyelids open till I finish this.

I was a good mummy’s girl today. First thing I did in the morning was to clean up my room. Gasp! Yup, you didn’t hear wrongly. I finally cleared up the mess around my table which has been growing exponentially for the past year. I’m not the most tidy person around, though I do try to keep things neat. Now, I feel all proud of myself for creating a nice little workspace which hopefully will stay that way for at least a few months. Next, I met up with a couple of friends for lunch. They were really sweet coz it was actually an early birthday celebration for me. I was really touched! =) Last night, I also came back late from dinner with another friend. It was real nice catching up with all of them. After the meetup, I met Mum for a bout of Christmas shopping. It was really crazy squeezing with the crowds, but thankfully, it was also efficient and fruitful. In two hours, we managed to get almost all of the presents. Woo hoo! Boy, shopping is tiring. This explains why I never go window shopping. I really can’t be bothered to  scour through thousands of items for the “perfect” fit. My strategy is: know what I want exactly, buy it, and get out of the shop. Ok. Maybe I’m not a typical girl, but that’s me. Hehe.

No prizes for guessing what today’s topic is about. Yes, you got it! Presents!

Firstly, a question for you: How do you usually celebrate birthdays? My family tradition specifies that we must always have the essential ingredients: a birthday cake, candles, a birthday song, family members, presents. And of course, not forgetting the birthday wish! The things I wished for changed over the years.

When I was little, I’d say, “I wish for… a happy family and a nice present.”

When I started schooling, I’d say, “I wish for… a happy family and please, please, good results for the coming year.”

When it came to my teenage years, I’d say, “I wish for… a happy family and good results and good health and more friends to celebrate my birthday.” (Since my birthday was in December which happens to be the school holidays, I never had friends celebrating my birthday for me in school. This made me feel really sad at that time.)

When it was my first year in London, I’d say, “I wish for… everyone in my family to be safe and to have good health and for me to survive well here.”

When my eating disorder struck, I’d say, “I wish for… this misery to end, right now.”

When I started on recovery, even though I had many friends around, I was kind of like an empty shell inside, all wrung out. I couldn’t even do a simple thing like eat a piece of cake. So all I’d pray for was, “I wish I can eat this cake. I wish I can enjoy the company. I wish I could recover.”

I just flipped through some old childhood photos…

Gosh! I really miss those times. I don’t really remember these occasions exactly. But what really strikes me when I look at these photos again is… I was present during all of those times. I was present in the moment. I was able to focus on the food, the laughter, the sheer pleasure of the cake. I wasn’t distracted by anything else. I was fully there, mind, body, and soul.

When I got afflicted with Ed, I could be physically there, but I was always missing in action. My mind was constantly on the run, counting calories, thinking of how to escape the celebrations, etc. My wishes became more and more self-centered. And my whole focus would be on how to avoid food, and not how to enjoy food or the company. This year, instead of asking for a gift, I put forth this question to myself: What can I give to the world? It is in giving that I can truly receive. It is in knowing that I do have something to give to this world that I realize my significance. It is in recognizing that I want to give to the world that I say with all conviction in my heart “No more to you, Ed. It’s to the world I want to give, not you!” God’s present to me is one that needs unwrapping. It take many many years to unwrap. But with layer that I unwrap, the anticipation builds up and the joy keeps on multiplying. Though I have yet to reach the center of the gift, I know that it will be glorious, because in the end, I will receive not just the gift of recovery, but the Giver, God Himself.

So this year, I have come to a conclusion. The best gift I can give to the world and to the people around me is myself – to be fully present and engaged in life. As I recover, I no longer want to remain obsessed over eating and food. Birthdays and Christmas aren’t about that. They’re about so much more. Being with loved ones. Rejoicing in the birth of my Lord and Savior, Jesus. Enjoying the fun and fellowship. That’s what holidays are about. So this year, I am determined not to let Ed hold the reins. Festive occasions are always a source of stress for me, but this time, I will learn to cope better than previous times. I will treat it as information that I can use to help me move forward in my recovery. As I head for several social events in December, I will remember to:

1) Take time to take care of myself and nurture myself.

2) Stay accountable so that the people around me will know what I am struggling with.

3) Stay focused on recovery. It is not worth sacrificing what I need for recovery just because it is the holiday season.

In short, my birthday wish for this year is that by His infinite grace, God will enable me to give to the world. Here’re some questions for you: What can you give to the world? How can you be present in the moment? It really doesn’t take much to be in the moment. Just try it… Close your eyes. Feel your heart beating within you. What is it saying? What is going on inside that body of yours? Now focus your attention on your surroundings. What do you hear? As you slowly open your eyes, take in all the colors that stream into your iris. What do you see? What is going on this very moment for you? How does it feel to be present?

Okie dokie. That’s all for my short and sweet post. I’m going off to dreamland soon. Goodnight dearies. Don’t forget to relax. It’s the weekend! =)

Today, I am going to talk about one of my favourite movies of all time – “Shrek”

When it first came out in 2001, I loved it so much that I even raved about it in a General Paper essay in junior college. =P The animation was lively. The story was great. But most of all, I identified with the characters in the film. Firstly, Shrek…

Well, I pretty much felt like an ‘ogre’ for most of my teenage years. Ok. Maybe I wasn’t ugly. But neither was I breathtakingly beautiful. I was just the average, person-next-door kind of girl. Nerdy spectacles. Hair conveniently tied up in a ponytail. Braces for my teeth which had me in tears whenever I had to get them tightened. I had no dress sense to speak of. Most of the time, I’d opt for jeans and a decent shirt to match. And by ‘decent’, I really mean ‘conservative’ by today’s standards. I felt so very exposed even wearing a sleeveless blouse. That was how self-conscious I felt, especially with boys around. Someone once teased me for wearing a T-shirt with prints. I felt so ashamed that I never wore that shirt out with my friends ever again. Having a quiet, diminutive personality made things worse because it made it hard for people to really know me. I certainly felt misunderstood a lot of times. Like Shrek, I didn’t like it when people invaded my swamp. When the world sought me, I turned away. I was afraid because it didn’t seem like a ‘nice’ world out there. I became prickly like a hedgehog.

Maybe not as cute as these babies, but you get the idea. Whenever Mum and Dad tried to reach out to me, I’d push them away or I’d snap at them. I didn’t like talking about my life. I just wanted to be left alone. Whenever I did try to extend myself to others, I found that it was pretty much a cold, unfeeling world where people judged others based on superficial things such as appearances, wealth, popularity, or the affiliations they had. I didn’t understand how one person could be so horrid to another fellow human being. Didn’t they understand that people had layers? This conversation between Shrek and Donkey portrays my feelings perfectly.

SHREK: For your information, there’s a lot more to ogres than people think.

DONKEY: Example?

SHREK: Example? Okay. Uh… ogres are like onions.

DONKEY: They stink?

SHREK: Yes. No!

DONKEY: Oh, they make you cry?

SHREK: No!

DONKEY: Oh, you leave them out in the sun, they get all brown and start sprouting little white hairs.

SHREK: No! Layers! Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. Onions have layers. You get it? We both have layers.

DONKEY: Oh… you both have layers… You know, not everybody like onions. Cakes! Everybody likes cakes. Cakes have layers.

SHREK: I don’t care what everyone likes. Ogres are not like cakes… You dunce, irritating, miniature beast of burden. Ogres are like onions. End of story. Bye bye. See ya later…

(Under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License)

So, I found out that the world wasn’t perfect. My frustrations didn’t end there. I realized that I wasn’t perfect either. However hard I tried to ‘be nice’ to everyone, it just wasn’t possible because that meant changing myself to suit every other person I met. And different people liked a different ‘me’. It was tiring, and I got fed up with putting on a mask. I took on a pessimistic view of myself, others and the world. The more I withdrew from people, the more misunderstood I felt. In turn, the more everything became depressing and the more I withdrew. It was a self-propagating cycle. Again, “Shrek” says it all.

DONKEY: Hey, what’s your problem, Shrek? What do you got against the whole world?

SHREK: Look, I’m not the one with the problem, ok? It’s the world that seems to have a problem with me. People take one look at me and go, ‘Ahhh… help… run… a big stupid ugly ogre!’. They judge me before they even know me. That’s why I’m better off alone.

Gradually, I took on a full-time job. No, I did not suddenly possess psychic powers. But I did become the world’s greatest mind-reader.

DONKEY: Ohhhhh! You’re so wrapped up in layers, onion-boy. You’re afraid of your own feelings!

SHREK: Go away.

DONKEY: See? There you are, doing it again. Just like you did to Fiona. And all she ever do was like you. Maybe even love you.

SHREK: Love me? She said I was ugly! A hideous creature! I heard the two of you talking.

DONKEY: She wasn’t talking about you!

Like Shrek, I started interpreting everyone’s words and actions to gel with my despondent view of myself. For example, if nobody took the initiative to talk to me in a social situation, I automatically assumed that it must be because everyone disliked me. It didn’t once occur to me that it might be because my face was shouting, “Go away. Leave me alone.” If my friend took a little while longer to reply my messages, I would catastrophize and think that it must be because she was angry with me or that I wasn’t worth typing a message to. I didn’t like facing up to my feelings because I was afraid of what I’d have to do if I really considered them. Feelings meant being vulnerable. I just wanted to be like the ‘ice queen’ – impenetrable and invincible.

I started pushing away my feelings. The eating disorder struck and you know the second part of the story. I also identify with Princess Fiona. Though I didn’t get captured by some horrible tyrant, I did have my own romantic ideals.

When I was a teenager, I secretly wished that a Prince Charming would appear, see me for who I truly am, sweep me off my feet, and rescue me from the big, ugly world out there. When my eating disorder struck, my dream changed. I began thinking that once I achieved that magic weight, I would be completely happy. Everyone would love me and treat me good. Losing weight became the panacea to solve all my problems. Then, I started on recovery. Again, I built castles in the air. In my mind, I thought that recovery would be a sudden transformation. Something to the effect of … my fairy godmother waving her wand and voila! A princess is born! I would suddenly bounce up from the hole I was wallowing in and metamorphose into an entirely different creature. I would look different, think different, act different, feel different. I would be totally happy and healthy. Now, it appears to me that God has other plans. I don’t always get what I want. I have to work to reach that place. I have to go through the process of transformation. It is a process, not a point.

I also like “Shrek” because it doesn’t have the typical fairytale ending that is so boringly cliched. In the end, Shrek realized that he didn’t want to remain in the swamp all by himself. He needed companions. He needed LOVE, just like I do too. I found that it isn’t weak to need love. It is human. Also, finally Princess Fiona doesn’t become a beautiful human princess. Instead, she remains an ogress. But you know what? It didn’t matter. Not to Shrek who loved Fiona. And not to Fiona who knew she was beautiful, just as she was.

SHREK: Fiona? Are you all right?

PRINCESS FIONA: Yes. But, I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be beautiful.

SHREK: But you are beautiful.

Now that I am at this stage of recovery, gaining weight is a given. I have to gain weight to recover. It is part and parcel of resuming a healthy body. The past few times, whenever I reached this stage, I would relapse because I’d get so freaked out by the changes in my body. But this time, I feel different. I know that I am the same old ‘me’. But I am also different. I am always in the process of changing and growing. True, there may be no waving of the magic wand to wish away all my problems or to transform me to be a beautiful princess like in Cinderella. But I now realize that beauty is not defined by all the images of pretty Disney princesses that we had watched and idolized when we were little. Beauty is defined in your heart, when you know that you are created to be beautiful, just as you are. There can be no second ‘you’, just like there can be no second ‘me’. We are all unique, and yet all so beautiful, because God made us that way. We don’t have to do anything to make ourselves beautiful. We already are.

So this is my new reality: I may not be the thinnest person around, but I am comfortable in my own skin and I am happy just as I am. Woo hoo!

This is also my new reality: the world and my life after Ed may not be all butterflies and roses. But there is beauty out there too. I just have to be aware of it. I just have to pursue it. I just have to allow myself to be immersed in it. And I have to give of myself to the world, because it is in giving that I also receive. And it is in giving that I open my eyes to real, wondrous beauty that is to be found.

SHREK: Why are you following me?

DONKEY: Cause I’m all alone. There’s no one here beside me. My problems have all gone, there’s no one to deride me. But you gotta have friends -

SHREK: Stop singing! Why that’s no wonder why you don’t have friends.

DONKEY: Wow! Only a true friend would be that truly honest.

I also realized that sometimes, a shift in perception makes all the difference in the world. Like Donkey, we can choose to always look on the bright side of things and find the silver lining in the clouds. Our thoughts can translate into words, actions, habits and then character. So, never underestimate the power of your thoughts.

Now, boys and girls, we come to the end of yet another lengthy post. I wish you a good night’s rest. Many sweet fairytale dreams with nice ogres and friendly donkeys.

I feel good. No particular reason. Or… there could be lots of reasons.

Could it be because I had such a good rest last night? I slept at 9.30pm (yes, I’m a pig. =P)  and woke up at my usual time. So that gave me an extra half an hour of sleep.

Could it be because it’s such a nice, cool day to refresh my mind and body?

Could it be because I have a whole evening stretching out before me where I can do the things I like to do?

Could it be because I have so many fascinating things around me… people, books, nature?

Could it be because I just had a nice leisurely walk with Dad, chatting about auroras and meteor showers and flowers that bloom only at night? (Yes, that’s my Dad. So in tune with science and nature huh?)

Could it be because I feel so happy just to be ‘normal’ again? (More on this later)

Anyway, reason or no reason, I’m happy! Whee! These things (and so many more!)  makes Val smile, just like this…

Don’t you love a cheesy camel smile every once in a while? By the way, I do like camels. Here’s some juicy bits of trivia about camels…

Did you know that they don’t store water in their humps as is commonly believed? The humps are actually a reservoir of fatty tissue. Concentrating body fat in their humps minimizes heat-trapping insulation throughout the rest of their body, which may be an adaptation to living in hot climates. When this tissue is metabolized, it acts as a source of energy. And… camels have all sorts of cool mechanisms to help them withstand the heat of the desert. Their thick coats reflect sunlight, and also insulate them from the intense heat radiated from desert sand. Their long legs help by keeping them further from the hot ground. Their mouth is very sturdy, able to chew thorny desert plants. Long eyelashes and ear hairs, together with sealable nostrils, form a barrier against sand. Their gait and their widened feet help them move without sinking into the sand. The kidneys and intestines of a camel are very efficient at retaining water.

How cool is that? So God placed them in that tough environment. But He also blessed them with the resources they need to survive it. And they do pretty well, don’t you think? =P I think the same goes with us. Sometimes, I tend to ask God, “Why? Why? Why? Why afflict me with such a horrible illness? Don’t you know I can’t do it?” Then God says, “I know you can, because I can.” God never sends us what we cannot bear. He promises to provide all that we need to stand up under those trials. So we need not be afraid. Strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Take heart and wait patiently for the Lord.

So, that’s a bit of wisdom from the mouth of humble Mr Camel. Thank you, Mr Camel! =)

Recovery is a long-drawn process. I get tired and weary. Sometimes, I just want to give it all up. I just want to say, “Forget it. I can’t. Ed, you win.” And yet, there is another part of me that simply refuses to give up. It could be that stubborn, headstrong mule of a girl in me speaking. Or it could be that survival instinct that is inherent in each of us. Have you ever thought about it this way? All of us have been programmed to want to survive! This is the one simple reason I struggle with an eating disorder: I want to survive! If I didn’t, I would have thrown in the towel long ago and just let Ed do whatever he wanted with me. Have you thought about how hard it is not to want to survive? A person would have to be terribly depressed to lose all will to live. Somehow, there is always a small voice, sometimes even as quiet as a whisper, prodding us on, telling us “Don’t give up. What if… you can?”

Much as recovery is tiring, living with an eating disorder is equally, if not more tiring. While Ed did perform his role in my life in the past, he also gave me a whole lot of trouble. I was forced to count calories almost every waking moment. I had to devise strategies to avoid social situations. I had to deal with the guilt of keeping things secret, even from my loved ones. I had such a fixed routine that any deviation would get me extremely agitated and panicky. I had to endure quarrels and the pain of hurting my family. It was such a tiring, messy situation. I cringe now even as I think about it. So… recovery IS tiring. How can recovery be called recovery if it doesn’t require effort right? But choosing NOT to recover is tiring too! Now, the question becomes… what will I choose to invest my time and energy in? If I choose Ed, there is virtually no happiness to speak of. I will just be a jailbird. Period.

BUT…

If I choose recovery, there will be pockets of joy. Maybe few and far between at the beginning. But I firmly believe that they will grow and expand to fill my heart and life as I move further and further into recovery. I know, because I am experiencing it. Right here. Right now. It’s a perfect time to review my past progress so that I can look ahead and see what I do want to achieve in the coming weeks.

What am I currently doing for my recovery now that I once considered impossible?

• Finishing my lunch outside, and adding on a variety of extra snacks (even those I considered way out of my league) without feeling guilty about it.
• When Dad said that he would send me to work today, I didn’t feel anxious about it. A few months back, I would have gotten really upset because that would mean walking less. But now, I know for a fact that my body will find its own balance. That means great flexibility, because now I don’t HAVE TO do the same things everyday. I can add variety to my routine, and that makes life so much more fun and interesting!
• Being able to enjoy a nice meal with friends outside and even an ice-cream if I feel like it. =)
• Being able to open up to more people and share my feelings with others.
• Gaining weight and feeling good about it. I’m not saying that I don’t feel a tinge of ickiness sometimes. Neither do I feel superb about recovery every single day. But on the overall, I’m lovin’ that sense of freedom, not being enslaved to Ed thoughts, being able to enjoy food I like, talk to friends comfortably without worrying about the food. When I look into the mirror now, my face is rounder but at least it’s not the colour of death. At least now it is being watered abundantly with the blood of life. My arms are fleshier too, but I know it is just becoming stronger. When I think of a woman’s arms now, I don’t compare myself with the thinnest ideal. I think of the aunties in the wet market, be it housewives seeking out the best buys for their family, or the stallkeepers selling their wares. Boy, do they have strong arms! Those arms can carry things, do work, care for others. I want my arms to be useful arms too, not the weakest, thinnest arms around.

What do I currently think of impossible that I plan on adding to my list of “Impossibles Accomplished?”

• I just received a very good sign yesterday that my body is recovering well. Woo hoo! I am overjoyed. But I know that I have to be careful, because in the past, whenever I reach this stage of recovery, I tend to get afraid and relapse. This time, I am determined NOT to let Ed squeeze through the gaps again. What has happened the past few times is NOT going to happen again this time. I am going to shut him out of my life, once and for all. No matter how much he tries to tempt me away from my goals, I will continue to eat well. I will continue the progress I am making. I will continue to nourish my body so that it can fully restored.
• I am going to tackle more fear foods again this week.
• I will try to work through that ’shame’ feeling about eating. Just today, I was afraid to get my nutritional drink from the fridge because my colleague was there. By the time I had geared myself to walk right up and get it, he had left. But I will learn to tackle such situations in future. After all, there is nothing shameful about eating.
• I will learn to set healthy boundaries with people, saying ‘no’ when I mean ‘no’ and ‘yes’ when I mean ‘yes’.

Sometimes, it is just when you are on the brink of giving up that you make your biggest breakthrough. Deciding to recover is a choice I make. Deciding to bounce back from a relapse is a choice I make. Deciding to challenge myself with something beyond my comfort zone is also a choice I make. Everyday is a choice to live well. Or not. What will  you choose to invest your time, effort, and energy in?

I just found out that it will be Thanksgiving  this week. It’s not really a custom to celebrate Thanksgiving here in Singapore. Nevertheless, without the turkey, pumpkin pies and corn, we can still keep the spirit of Thanksgiving, can’t we? Let’s keep it really simple. Focus first on God. Then on people. And less on things. Spend today giving thanks for everything in your life. To get into the groove of things, why not get up on your feet and join in “THE GRATITUDE DANCE“! =P