Bookgirl on The Good Stuff

When 2009 rolled in, I was at what I'm hoping (please, God) was my absolute bottom. I was morbidly obese, and I worked for a sociopath who treated me like I was an idiot.

I was desperate.

And for the record, the sociopath diagnosis wasn't mine. It came from an actual mental health professional. And technically it was "narcissistic sociopath." Granted, she based it on my descriptions of Cruella, not actual firsthand observances, but whatever.

I stand by it.

I was eating my way through every workday to keep myself from jumping out the proverbial window. Eating when I was happy. Eating when I was sad. Eating when I was lonely. I knew something had to give. So in January, I walked into an eating disorder treatment program.

Now, some people enter into treatment certain that they'll do whatever it takes to make it work.

I was not that girl.

I was more the "I'll give this a chance, but if it sucks, I'm out" type. But I went to a meeting, and there was a woman there, about my age, who had once been my size, and she told her story. And it sounded a lot like my story. So I came back another time, and another. And then I started telling my story.

 "Hello, my name is Bookgirl. And I'm a compulsive overeater and bulimic."

I'm pretty sure the first time I said that out loud, I threw up a little in my mouth. Imagine sharing your deepest, darkest, most shameful secret. The secret you're just now beginning to understand and come to terms with.

Out loud. In a room full of strangers.

And you know what? No one judged. There were no gasps of shock or looks of horror. Instead, there was only quiet, kind acceptance. The only person there projecting shame onto me was me. And that's when my life began to change. I remember telling Polly at the time, "Some day I'm going to look back on this period of my life as when all the good stuff started."

I started dealing with my emotions instead of shoveling in sour cream and onion chips and cookie dough ice cream to fill the hole. And for the record, I would trade any one of you for the ability to go back to eating those things in a healthy manner, without binging, without guilt. But that's not on the menu, so you're all safe.

For now.

I started realizing that if I'm not treating myself like shit, no one else gets to either. That while I was saying horrible, mean stuff to myself, the things Cruella was saying didn't sound so awful. But once I stopped, and gave myself a break, they became completely unacceptable.

Back in August, things came to a head, and I lost my job. They called it a layoff. But that's semantics. I was fired. And you know what? It was okay.

It took everything in me not to say "thank you" in response to the news. I got to not be miserable every day. I got to go out and recreate my life, to figure out what I really, in my heart of hearts, wanted. And I got to do it without having to live on ramen noodles because I had given in and quit, and that was all I could afford. I felt like I had won.

I had some time to breathe, and play, and do the things I love. I travelled. I spent some time with Polly, I spent some time with my family, I visited places I've never seen. I got to be there for my sister's surgery and recovery, to bond with my niece and grand-niece, to catch up with friends I hadn't seen in years. I started freelance writing, and when people asked what I did for a living, I got to say, "I'm a writer." 

Just typing that now still makes me giddy and breathless and goosebump-y: I'm a writer...

And then, the time I had allotted myself for discovery and growth ran out. And that very day, I got a job offer.

 Not just a job: THE job.

The job I've been dreaming of and looking for and hoping for. Except it didn't exist, because they only created it now. I'm working on books I love, with people I like and respect, back at the best company I've ever worked for, where my career first developed and flourished. I'm back at the grown-ups' table.

So now it's November.

I weigh 72 pounds less than when I started. I have a career, not just a job. I'm back in life, instead of living in my own private hell. I want to be with people, instead of hiding in my apartment. I have friends and family who love me, and for the first time in a long time, I love me. I look in the mirror, and like what I see there.

But more importantly, I look into my heart, and like what I see there also.

I've still got a distance to go on the weight loss, and my life is far from perfect, but it's good. Really, really good.

This is the good stuff.

Comments

[Michelle]

I am SO proud of you! I love you.

Mich
kisses

[Equipoise]

What an amazing story! I'm so glad this year gave you such a rich supply of "good stuff" and I hope it continues to next year.

[Polly]

You keep getting impossibly smarter, prettier, and more accomplished.

I am so glad you bounced back from your bottom.

[Pandora]

You know Bookgirl, I've lately thought of you as a soul sister and as your soul sister (you don't have a say in agreeing with me because I'm convinced you are the older "me"), I also have the whole "I'll try it, but if it gets hard, then I'm peacing" attitude.

Like with school- I'm doing decent, but I'm honestly not enjoying most any of my classes this semester which is making my grades slip. It doesn't help that I'm stressed with picking a major and deciding my entire life in only months.

I'm not trying to make this about me at all.

But, what I'm getting at is that you have shown me that even people like us can find that drive and actually put our minds to things we are passionate for. Your story has made me a bit more at peace. Thanks for being a great role model without really even trying.

PS: I'm literally exploring every career option. I might hit you up with an email about working in publishing :)

[The Dol]

What a beautiful, wonderful, human post. It sounds like you were in a really difficult and dark place for a while there. And now you've made so much progress with your weight, and you have a fabulous job, and you've had the nice between-job break to enjoy friends and family... I am so happy for you. Like Pandora, I feel like you've somehow given me a little bit of comfort that it will all work out ok for me, too.

Thank you so much for being courageous and for sharing your experience so eloquently.

[Laura]

You made me cry. Again. I'm so happy and proud of you.

[Diosa]

I expected no less - of you or for you. I'm so proud of you and so glad it's all coming together so fabulously. You will always have my love and support.

[Wendy Cohen]

omg this is gorgeous and written by a gorgeous WRITER!

[Bookgirl]

Thanks so much for the love and support, guys. And I can't tell you how glad I am that it offered some of you hope. Seeing people in my program with their amazing recovery was the first glimmer that it might be possible for me too, that there was potential for things to turn out in the end.

Pandora, the reason you're convinced I'm the older "you" is because I am. My freshman year, even though I was almost certain that I wanted to go into publishing, I still insisted on taking a class in each of the potential majors that I thought I maybe, just maybe, might want to pursue. I refer to it as my experiment in what I DIDN'T want to do with the rest of my life. And you know what? I was bored, and not engaged, and that semester I had the lowest grades of my college career. Once I declared my major and got to throw myself into the classes I love, I graduated with honors. Oh, and I heart what I do. If you can convince your parents you desperately need a closer view at publishing and you can get them to foot the bill for a trip to New York, you can stay with me and shadow me at work.

Di, I never expected it of or for me, but the fact that the people who loved me did made me realize it was worth giving it a try.

[Curls]

You made my cry, which is bad since I am at work and supposed to be working. You sound like such a special person and I wish you love and happiness.

[Alice]

Congrats, Bookgirl. On the weight loss, the life changes and the job. Also on staying in NY, which seems to be a perfect fit for you and I couldn't imagine you anywhere else. You look beautiful on the inside and out.

[Meg]

I'm so proud of you! And if Pandora does get a chance to come to NY, she can shadow me too for a glimpse at the editorial side of our awesome biz :)

[Bookgirl]

Alice, I had convinced myself that maybe it was time for me to leave New York, that I had been here long enough, that I was ready for a change. But when I decided to take this job, the sheer glee I experienced over saying in New York made me realize that I am so not done with this...

Laura/Curls, Sorry about the whole crying thing. But I have to admit, I take it as a compliment...

[Karita]

What a beautiful post. I'm so glad things are improving for you. :)

[Diosa]

Uh, What the heck happened to Begging the Question, ladies?

[Bookgirl]

Di, I broke it. But that's okay: Polly fixed it. That's pretty much the story of our lives...

[Denise]

You are no longer my little sister but an incredibly strong, intelligent funny woman with amazing courage. I love you to slices and bits.

[The Model]

Great post, Bookgirl. So happy for you! Isn't it so nice to be getting to the good stuff? That's how it feels for me right now, too.