When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get…Kale?

I hate to start posts off this way, but I had a really crappy day.  It started by burning pancakes (don’t laugh), setting off the smoke detector, me setting the skillet outside on my deck to cool off and have it smoke outside and in the process creating a burn mark on my table, calling in ten minutes after the 24 hour cancellation policy for an appointment (but thankfully the lady didn’t charge me), forgetting that my therapy appointment was half an hour earlier than it usually is, going to Whole Foods without a grocery list (even though it’s a goal of mine NOT to do that this week), and ending up crying, dissociating, and being so stressed out with my thesis (the first draft) that I skipped yoga (the part of my week I look forward to) because I couldn’t get myself to leave the apartment. Breathe.  Talk about a friggin run on sentence.

For me, the last 24 hours have been the perfect example of what it’s like to be a Borderline.  Yeah I call myself a Borderline.  Others with BPD don’t have to, but I do and I’m not going to justify it.  Last night I felt so powerful and loving towards myself and this morning I woke up feeling empty, lost, and like I was living in a dream.  The world didn’t seem real but yet I knew, and know, that it is.  Those with BPD can often have this weird relationship with reality and once I learned what was going on, I started to notice how frequently I dissociate.  It hasn’t happened in quite a while, but I used to do it a lot.  My episodes rarely lasted more than a few hours and at most a few days.

My assignment from my therapist was to try and do as many things as I can to feel real.  Yoga and meditation are the best remedy for this.  I just couldn’t go tonight and I don’t really know why.  I haven’t skipped a yoga class on a Tuesday or Thursday unless I’ve been traveling and guilt set in.  Guilt is not always a bad thing, though.  I thought about my motivations for going to yoga; feeling connected to my body, soul, and the universe, and then a sneaky little thought came in.

“It would be nice to tighten up and lose a few pounds wouldn’t it? Remember that girl on the mat next to you last time? She had a beautiful body. Don’t you want that?”  

“Woah,” I told myself. “Stop right there mind.  Whiskey tango foxtrot? I know you are still going to have urges but this is not a healthy thought.  This is a comparison.  This is my eating disorder talking.”

It’s not a surprise to me that I had this thought though.  After an emotional weekend and my crappy day and school stress, in addition to all my own personal things going on, it’s no wonder that my eating disorder tried to guilt me by saying it wasn’t ok to miss yoga because I’d have to wait until Thursday which is soooo far away, right? And I had vegan pizza for dinner so my eating disorder told me I HAD to workout.  What. A. Load. Of. Shit.

Now, even though I didn’t go to yoga, I didn’t do it just because I wanted to give a big F-you to my eating disorder, I also wanted to show myself that it’s ok to break patterns, to not be perfect.  Yes, I’ve been loving yoga because of the way it makes me feel, but sometimes I’m not going to be in the mood and that’s OK.  Sometimes I’ll be too emotional to do one thing that’s good for me, but if I do something else that’s good for me then that’s what counts.  Right?

I decided I wanted to focus a little more on my thesis instead of turning it in the way it is so I washed some kale and made a great drink out of it:

Coconut water, chlorella tablets, kale, an apple, and a lime wedge.  Delicious and more energizing than coffee!! I also want to be clear that I didn’t make the kale to “make up” for anything I did/didn’t do/eat today.  I wanted some clean, green energy because last night at 10 pm I had a double shot of espresso which kept me up for four hours.  I was a little surprised because during the day it doesn’t do A THING for me.  Weird.

I’m off to finish my work and get some sleep before my domestic violence counselor training tomorrow! Good night everyone.