Music blasting through my headphones, I stared out of the car’s window and thought about how badly I wanted to get home.

I wanted to get home, slip out of my blue jeans, and lie on my bed- lie on my bed and listen. Just listen to music.

I craved the electronic sounds of droning instruments, haunting synthesizers and beating drums. I craved the pillowy top of my turquoise comforter, the plush feel of my mattress, and warming security of my own bedroom- my own little world. I wanted to close my eyes and just disappear, if only for a bit.

The bedroom door- I wanted it closed. I wanted a brick wall secluding me from the world, a wall enveloping me in solidarity. I could taste the escape on the tip of my tongue just thinking about it.

I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to feel anything. I just wanted to listen to the music and let the beats decide what direction my thought should travel in. Let the timbres choose where to turn.

Like a person unties the laces from their sneakers, I wanted to untie myself from any feeling. That’s all I wanted. Really.

Back in the car- 20 minutes from home, 20 minutes from that sacred escape within my bedroom- I looked over at my mother, her hands bolted to the steering wheel.

My mom never has the time to lie on her bed, pants off and speakers on, to just appreciate good music. She doesn’t have the time to build a barrier between herself and her responsibilities- my poor mother has no time for escape. In reality, most adults do not and as I near adulthood an inch closer ever year, this idea of losing time frightens me.

At that moment, as the neon green glow of the odometer struck me across the face, I suddenly felt afraid of myself- afraid of how quickly the numbers of age had piled on top of me. Four years passed by so quickly and I’d gone from a naive 14 year old girl to a knowing 18 year old female all in the span of what seemed like a slow evening. Four years in one evening. That’s what it felt like.

As my car crept along the freeway, the unavoidable prospect of becoming an adult seemed like a death sentence. I’d already wasted four years on an eating disorder- four years of my YOUTH on an eating disorder- and all I was going to do was get older. Older, and older, and older. I was just starting to get my life back for Christ’s sake!

I was finally normal, finally having fun again and time was a mammoth clock perched on my back. I wanted to be 14 again and just start over from scratch. Drifting through high school with depression and anxiety excluded me from so many experiences common to growing up- the dates, the parties, the firsts and the lasts- you know, the standard high school hooplah. As I sat in the passenger seat of the car, now 10 minutes from home, a knot of regret swelled in my stomach.

But was the remorse worth it?

I could no longer do anything about those four years “lost,” I couldn’t rewind and take them all back to the start like a video cassette. In fact, as much as I wanted to pity myself, those four years of misery made me who I am and I grew from them. Instead of regretting time I could not gain back, I should focus on the years ahead of me and make the most out of them.

Promising myself to never relapse or fritter away precious time is the best thing I can for myself to “make up” for those four years lost. By healing 100% and continuing on as happily as I am now, I may even GAIN 4+ years of life. Who knows?

I’m not really one for New Year’s Resolutions but if I must pick one, that would definitely be it: Never fall into the hands of Anorexia- or any wasteful addictions- ever again.

SOUNDS LIKE A MEANINGFUL RESOLUTION TO ME!!

Happy (early) New Year to all! Don’t waste any time. We are only given one life and what we are given is very short. Drifting through and not experiencing things as they come…. it’s not a good idea.

In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the kind of strange that cannot be kept a secret. Everyone must know about it- and if they don’t know about it, they must at least be suspicious of it.

There are days, seemingly chosen at random, where I embrace it and feel (dare I say it?) proud of my “weirdness” but then there are other days where I entirely abhor it and pray that I’ll wake up the next morning as the textbook example of “a perfect female”….. whatever that may be.

The reason this topic is etched in my mind is because lately, I have taken a burning interest in boys again; and with this interest comes raging hormones and with those raging hormones comes the self-conscious awkwardness experienced by preteens. Yes, I find myself back in the age of gawky self-doubt where one questions whether anyone of the opposite sex could ever be interested in you.

I look in the mirror and feel that my nose is too crooked, my ears to stuck out, my hair far too flat and my skin way too splotched.

I reflect on my persona and feel that my hobbies are too unrelatable, my interests too obscure and my humor beyond what is proper for a lady.

In my mind, all I hear is “too much this” or “too much that.”
What exactly am I measuring myself to?

When I truly analyze  it, I think I am comparing myself to the “ideal girl” society has created for us. My interpretation of who I’ve been told the “ideal girl” is goes as follows:

IDEAL GIRL
Name: Ideal Girl
Height: Taller than most girls, shorter than most guys
Weight: Thinnest girl in the room
Looks: A down-to-Earth, girl-next-door version of a Victoria’s Secret model
Personality: Prim and proper, smily all the time, feminine, soft and giggly, tells funny yet appropriate jokes, gets along with everybody, charming , yada yada yada

Ugh! I can’t be that girl!

My name is not anywhere close to “Ideal Girl,” my name  happens to be Karina Pinzon. I’m shorter than a lot of girls and sometimes even taller than a few guys because guess what? PEOPLE COME IN ALL SORTS OF UNIQUE SIZES. And my weight? Ever since I’ve gotten closer to being recovered from my eating disorder, I’m no longer always the thinnest girl in the room. There are now several girls thinner than me and that is OK. I am healthy and best of all, no longer at risk of dying of heart failure at the age of 18. Concerns like THAT are strange and sad.

Continuing to compare myself to Ms. “Ideal Girl,” I also sure as flipping-ass hell do not look like a “down-to-Earth,  girl-next-door version of a Victoria’s Secret model.” I have never ever been the girl next door. In fact, I’m more like the girl who lives in the abandoned house down the street with rotting oak trees and flourescent unicorn ornaments on her lawn.

I’m also far from giggly and appropriate. When I laugh, I cackle and when I tell a joke, you better believe it’s a dirty one. I’m not an “ideal girl” and you know what? Even though I want to crawl under a rock because of the things I say and do in public sometimes, I like being unique and I like being weird. I like being me. 

I take a look at the other girls around me, who go through boys like they do underwear during that time of the month, and I wonder “HOW do you find ‘boy toys’ so easily!? How do you find boys that you not only like but that also LIKE YOU BACK?”

Maybe I will never know. All I know is that I am never going to find a mutual love interest unless the love I have with myself is mutual.

My body may love me now because I am giving it what it needs to be healthy and strong, but… I have to love it back.

I have to appreciate, thank it, adore it for allowing me to DO the things that make me the “strange” and “unique” person I am. Without my body in tip-top health, I wouldn’t be able act upon my “weirdo” tendencies. I would just be another drone, ebbing and falling through the turbulent waves of life- not really enjoying anything. I’ve been in that position before and I don’t want to be there again.

I want to live my life, being WEIRDAZFUCK, and like it. 

If I meet a boy, great.
If I don’t, fabulous.

Either way, I’m going to be happy.

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A memorable meal….

A mozzarella, tomato, mayonnaise, spicy mustard and breaded chicken burger sandwich on Udi’s GF burger bun with Heinz sweet relish and sweet potato fries! This was perfect with a glass of Colombiana soda.

I should probably go study for the precalculus exam I am inevitably going to fail tomorrow. Take care, everyone!

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Fat as in, really dreadfully fat.

As I lay hyperventilating on my game-room couch, my body seemed to morph into the oven-fried pork loins my mom made for dinner that night. Every bone in my body dripped with guilt and self-hate as I felt like a “pig.”

I sunk deeper into the couch, which felt like a suffocating bucket of lard, and moaned about how dreadful I felt. I even tweeted about it.

“OH MY GOD. I AM A DEEP FRIED PORK LOIN, A HAM STEAK, THE BATTERED COATING OF AN ONION RING. HOLY SHIT, I AM SO FAT!” I cried, being the melodramatic Anorexic I turn into sometimes.

Every inch of me felt compelled to slip on my tennis shoes and bust my butt on the treadmill, going against everything my therapist and dietitian expected of me. I wanted to run my problems away, run the feeling out of my body, and run toward a higher self-esteem. I don’t even like running. In fact, I hate it.

That is when I realized my solutions and my thought process made no sense.

Why would I think that running, against my medical team’s orders, would make me feel better about myself? Why would I think that exercising without permission would help my recovery? Why would I think that burning calories would solve all of my problems?

It wouldn’t, and it would be a complete waste of my time and money to do the opposite of what my medical team told me to. What’s the point of paying my dietitian and therapist if I’m not going to obey them? Disobeying my mentors is a stupid idea that only harms me.

With that, I remained on the couch, leaving my tennis shoes tucked away in the darkness of my closet.  I fell asleep, still feeling “fat”, but I had the satisfaction of knowing I made the right decision.

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The following morning (AKA: today), I awoke with a powerful freshness. The “fat” feelings from the previous night had worn off and I was left with the high effects of triumph.

Today is a new day and I feel very energized, and inspired. 

Had I given into my ED urges and succumbed to the appeal of temporary relief, I know that I would feel worse today because I would’ve been one step closer to falling back into my eating disorder habits. I may have felt better and less “fat” last night if I had given in, but then today would have been a whole different ball-game. I know for a fact that I would feel weaker today, weaker and more entrapped by ED.

By remaining firm in what I knew was best for me, I became a warrior. Just like a body builder challenges his muscles to make them stronger, I challenged my eating disorder and made my mind stronger. That is how it’s done. It takes a little sacrifice and a lot of hard work to recover. Instantaneous relief is overrated.

ANYWAY, I had the best lunch ever today.

Buffalo chicken, Swiss cheese, mayonnaise, cucumber, tomato, and mustard sandwich on Udi’s millet chia bread. On the side, original Lays drizzled with ketchup. Gahh, so delicious!

I am going to spend the rest of the day drawing, reading a school book, and helping my mom out with Thanksgiving cooking in the kitchen. I feel so happy today!

Everyone have an awesome day

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    I question why I try so hard to gain weight, and why I force myself to “sit on my butt” all day and be inactive.

    I also question why I push myself to make higher calorie food choices and eat beyond my fullness level too.

    I question why I do the opposite of what so many people in today’s society do, and why I choose to be the odd one out in a culture so fixated on losing weight. It seems counterproductive to put myself under the limelight of self-doubt and be the only one amongst a table of salad eaters to eat a real meal, but in those situations where I feel “weird” and “self-conscious” about eating more than others, I remember that not everyone eats as lightly as the people around me in that moment. I just CHOOSE to notice those who eat less than me- or should I say my eating disorder chooses to do so?

If I look beyond the table of people I choose to eat with, I see a larger population of people simply enjoying food- free of thinking about calories, health, and body size. I see a mass of normal humans simply eating to nourish themselves and enjoying the time spent with their family or friends.

    As much as my eating disorder wants to convince me that the dieters around me make up all of the population and that I must conform to their ways, the reality is that notion is simply untrue. Just because that random girl at my lunch table eats crackers and soup every day for lunch does not mean that the girl at the next table over eats the same way or that it is “normal.” My eating disorder filters the “normal” eaters so that I can only see the abnormal eaters… and why? Because it wants to TRICK me.

    Thankfully, I keep my common sense and logic tucked into my back pockets and that makes me one tough girl to fool.

  Whenever I break my filter and choose to notice the healthy and normal eaters around me, that is when I am reminded of why I choose to do what I am doing with myself- and what I am doing is recovery.

    I am choosing the pitfalls and torments of recovery because I want to BE one of those normal people I know exist out there. I want to sit at a dinner table, smiling and laughing with my family. I want to have that twinkle in my eye, that glow to my skin, that carefree demeanor that screams “I don’t give a shit about calories, I just give a shit about life.”

    Being skinny doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t make me friends, it doesn’t make me cooler, it doesn’t make me better at anything I do. Striving to be “skinny” just makes me unhappy and I have come to realize this more than ever.

    I recently started counting calories again in order to regain some weight, and became aware of how much happier I am when I am not restricting my intake and actually eating the correct foods/amounts for my body- and by “correct” foods I don’t mean the “healthiest.” I mean the ones my body asks me for.

    If I want to eat cookies and milk, or brownies, or fries and buffalo wings, I want the liberty to make those choices like I did pre-eating disorder.

 I’ve done a good job at making those choices for a while now but for some reason, I have gained a new-found appreciation of this freedom I earned. I can’t express how delicious it feels (and tastes) to go to a restaurant and order whatever the hell I want regardless of calories.

    I have a story: the other day when dinner came around, I had 1200 calories left in my calorie allotment. My family and I were sitting inside Red Robin, fixing to put in our orders, and I was REALLY in the mood to get buffalo wings and french fries. The only thing was… the order of buffalo wings did not contain 1200 calories, it contained 1500 calories. This was like a blaring alarm going off in my head.

    In that moment when the waiter was going to take our orders, I had two choices: either order a plate of fish tacos (which I wasn’t really in the mood for) for exactly 1200 calories and meet my calorie goal exactly, or order the buffalo wings and fries (which I REALLY wanted) for 1500 calories and go over my calorie goal.

    My eating disorder wanted me to order the fish tacos SO badly but I channeled the normal eater inside of me and said “fuck it. I don’t care about calories.” I ordered my buffalo wings and moved on to enjoy dinner with my family. If I had ordered the fish tacos, that would have done NOTHING to further my recovery and I probably would have spent the whole meal thinking about the buffalo wings I didn’t order. By ordering what I wanted, I felt satisfied at the end of my meal because I listened to my body. A lessoned learned: calories should not impact my decisions nor should my calorie allotment be a cage I am locked within. I can go ABOVE my calorie allotment and benefit my body, I can just never go below my goal because there are no excuses for shortchanging myself.

   Speaking of shortchanging myself,  my dietitian and I were looking at my records today and noticed there was a trend that every single winter since I was diagnosed with Anorexia, I have relapsed. Every. single. one.

 I feel really determined to make the holiday season we are in, which is clearly a very triggering time of the year for me, a good one. I am not going to let my eating disorder take control of me this time, especially not after I have taken so many steps forward in my recovery. I have gotten dreadfully ill every single Christmas and that realization makes me sick.

    Let me tell you, a relapse will NOT occur this winter. Just watch me soar above my eating disorder. Just watch me. I am a stronger person now, and I am going to put my strength to the test and help myself.

  I urge you, readers, to do the same. Love yourselves and challenge yourselves. Do something good for your bodies and your lives.

    Happy Thanksgiving.

P.S. Be sure to follow me on Twitter! I finally got one

I’m not complaining though. I’m excited about redecorating my bedroom for the millionth time (I will show pictures later this week!) but it is kind of strange to face the weekends with the majority of my friends away at college.

Now, Fridays approach and I no longer have Cecily inviting me out to grab frozen yogurt or Charles asking me to go to dinner. The weekends are quiet right now.

I’m not going to accept this time of pseudo-loneliness as an excuse to feel sorry for myself though. I’m going to use this time to challenge myself to make new adventures, new memories, and new friends. No wasting a fresh and amazing year on pitying myself!

So far this week, I have done a lot of great things for myself. I know I have hardly blogged or “formspringed” but I feel refreshed and almost new because of it. I felt like I needed to take a breather from all social networks, Facebook in particular, in order to restore my sanity and sense of privacy. At times, all these social outlets can be overwhelming. When I am logged into Facebook, I am both surrounded by and isolated from people at the same time. I am following the lives of all these humans I either know or hardly know, and yet I feel lonely because I am only viewing their experiences, not experiencing them. I am beginning to believe that the term “Facebook Depression” is very much real and I suggest everyone partake in a miniature Facebook strike every once in a while. It will leave you revitalized.

My time away from Facebook also let me focus on fashion... check out my new Look on: http://lookbook.nu/look/2403253-Leather-and-Lace

Another good thing I have done for myself is make some necessary changes to my diet. I am a firm believer in honesty so I will admit without shame that ever since school started, my dietitian and I have slowly noticed old habits creep back into the picture and it is time to put a stop to them before they escalate to more.

My recent “habit” has been an obsession with creating the “perfect lunch.” It may sound like it is healthy but guess what, yo? It’s not.

When packing my lunches, I have felt this inner force pushing me to include, without fail, a portion of vegetables in my lunch bag- every. single. day. Even if I am not in the mood for them.

Don’t misunderstand me, please. Vegetables are GREAT and most days, I do crave them in my lunch but I should not by any means feel forced to pack them if by chance I do not want to.

In order to intuitive eat successfully, I have to listen to my body and acknowledge the foods it wants… and this includes acknowledging the foods it doesn’t want.

If I don’t want veggies with my lunch and want a granola bar or a cookie instead, why not? I’m a teenager. What is holding me back?

My goal is to resist this force that has been holding me back and put what I want in my lunch box that day. I can’t make every meal perfect because there is no such thing as perfect. I don’t want to take on that terrible habit I once struggled with and successfully moved away from again. I want to have more fun and not succumb to that “main meal with mandatory veggies” template unless I genuinely want it. Most days, yeah. I am in the mood for my usual sandwich with veggies combo but my staple is only there as a guideline. It should not have a final say in what I ultimately choose. I’m the boss. ED is shitsauce.

On to the lunches…

TuesdayTurkey, hummus, swiss cheese, and cucumber sandwich on a homemade Colombian corn and cheese arepa.On the side: Pamela’s chocolate walnut biscotti and cucumbers/tomatoes with Goddess dressing.

WednesdayAlmond butter, raisin, and carrot sandwich on Udi’s millet chia bread.A plumcot and French vanilla Stonyfield probiotic yogurt on the side

ThursdayBlack bean chips, guacamole, Texas BBQ Primal Strip (I may not be vegetarian anymore but these are still tasty), French Vanilla Stonyfield probiotic yogurt, mangosteen gummy candies, and orange juice/carrot juice blend on the side.

Anyway, I have A LOT of work to do tonight. Oh high school…. everyone have a great weekend!

And what about you? Yes, I’m talking to you; watching you dip your celery stick into that cup of reduced-fat ranch. Didn’t you bring anything else to eat?

7:00 A.M. on my way out the door

Staring down at my stuffed ham & cheese sandwich and limon potato chips, I began to feel self-conscious and started questioning the food choices I felt so confident about just earlier that morning. What ever changed my mind?

As I sucked the lemon flavored residue off my finger tips, I observed the room and people around me, surveying the food my peers were lunching on.

The cartons of kung pao chicken, boxes of individual pizzas, and plastic bowls of macaroni and cheese all settled indifferently into the background. What really stood out to me were the lone cereal bars, vegetable cups, and “100 calorie packs” that I was seeing scattered about without accompaniments.

I could not help but get that all too familiar feeling where my stomach coils into one giant, tight and unforgivable knot. I had been triggered.

The temptation to toss away half of my ham sandwich- the one I had so lovingly made with my favorite Udi’s bread- was overwhelming. The room was caving in around me and the students chomping on their raw carrots in front of me blurred to a faint splash of fading water colors. All of my senses weakened and all I could hear was a muffled voice, almost a whisper, telling me to toss my meal. I knew this feeling all too well. It was ED, making his dramatic and always memorable entrance… but I seemed to be the only one to notice his presence, and I wanted it gone.

This realization immediately perked me back to attention and interrupted ED’s extravagant arrival to the lunch room. Returning to a clear and rational mind allowed me to raise questions about what had just happened. It did not take long for me to understand the reason ED had crept in momentarily though. It was as clear as the piercing retainer sitting in my left nostril: I was affected by the way a few of my peers were eating.

The competitive side of my eating disorder was stirred when I noticed these few students eating less than me on a daily basis. On the first day I gave them the benefit of the doubt assuming that they simply weren’t hungry, but when their scanty eating became an everyday event, I truly started to take notice and it struck a negative chord with me.

But then something clicked.

Who am I? I’m Karina Pinzon.
Who are they? Well, they are Sally, Suzie, Jillian, and Betty Lou… or, whatever.
Are they in recovery from an eating disorder? Uhh.. no, probably not.
Do they have the same needs that I, Karina Pinzon, do? Er- no. Everyone is different.
How do I know that they are not simply snacking at lunch because they get out of school and hit up the restaurants down the road instead? I actually don’t know that… you have a point. They may eat something the second they get out school that makes up for their scanty eating.

Questioning my irrational thoughts really put things in perspective for me. I should not allow the eating habits of others affect me because the truth is, I do not know what they eat or do outside of school. I do not know what their lifestyle choices outside of the lunch room are. I do not know whether or not they are having a full meal when the last bell rings, and I do not know what they eat before they arrive at school either. I do not know the facts behind these people’s lives so how would it be fair for me to compare myself to them?

I am an individual. To restrict my diet and hurt myself because of somebody else’s choices is frankly, stupid. I would be short-changing myself in the biggest way by damaging all my progress over what someone else does. Right then and there, I looked those vegetable chompers and soup sippers straight in the eye and took a tremendous bite out of my sandwich. I know they meant no harm nor had any clue of how their eating affected me but- I wanted to show them I was stronger.

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On another note, something really flippin’ awesome happened to me yesterday…

Udi’s sent me 2 loaves of millet chia bread for free!

Now, before you get jealous, let me explain. Remember how in my one of my recent posts I posted a picture of my extra-terrestrial slice of mold populated horror story monster movie bread? Well, Udi’s saw my post and offered to send me a replacement loaf for free! I was already impressed with how much they cared about their customers but when I received not one, but two loaves, my love for the company blew up to the size of a hot air balloon. It is so amazing to find a company that, like I said, cares SO much about their customers. They truly are an amazing food company and I personally think they make some of the best Gluten-free products out there. LETS ALL CLAP FOR UDI’S. YEAH!?

Anyway, the past three days have been insanely crazy hence the lack of posting. How am I expected to focus on college applications (and blogging ) if I am assigned a metric shitload of school work? HELLOOO!? *sigh* Here are my past three days of lunches…

W E D N E S D A YCampbell’s Southwestern-style Vegetable soup, Glenny’s ranch soy chips, and….Cookies! I packed 4 chocolate creme KinniToos.All inside my Pucca lunch box.

T H U R S D A YPeanut butter and apricot jelly sandwich…accompanied by a plumcot and carrots….and some utterly delicious chocolate milk.

Another noteworthy food worth mentioning was this chocolate cream pie I had at Target after school let out…Why is pie so delicious?

F R I D A YI used what was left of my Udi’s millet chia bread (luckily I got my wonderful package from Udi’s yesterday so I don’t have to travel 50 minutes just to get some more.. seriously, I am so thankful) and made a ham, swiss cheese, spicy mayo, asparagus, and roasted red pepper sandwich.I brought Lay’s Limon potato chips on the side.

I went to the grocery store with my mother after school and there was a freakin’ “create your own granola” bar (you grab their granola base and choose your mix ins) in the middle of my local super market. SO random. I would expect that at a place like Whole Foods or someplace fancier but… H-E-B? Interesting! I caved and made two granolas:

I’m going to call this “Pumpking Some Chocolate.” (Get? Like, pumping gas… only pumpking chocolate… hah. hah..) It is made with the granola base mixed with chocolate chips, raisins, and pumpkin seeds.

And I’m going to call this one “Where the Flax is My Flaxin’ Coconut?” This one consists of the granola base with yogurt covered raisins, peanut butter chips, shredded coconut, and flax seeds.

Okay. So my granolas are more desserty than anything but whatever. Who said I can’t eat chocolate and peanut butter chips at breakfast? I don’t hear anyone protesting.

Today is Saturday and I plan on doing a whole lot of homework and a whole lot of bedroom redecorating. Yes. I am changing my bedroom furniture and walls for the millionth time so I’m going to go eat breakfast and get started with my day. Thank God it is a three-day weekend! Everyone enjoy their labor day

College applications, college applications, college applications. How you torture me with your broad essay assignments, SAT/ACT retesting, and approaching deadlines.

I can not believe that this period of my life, which at one point seemed so far away, is actually here. It flummoxes me that I am actually planning college essays, filling out questionnaires and talking to my parents about the possibility of moving out, leaving everything I know behind. It is surreal but at the same time so tangible. This milestone of “growing up” is not a mere figment of my childhood daydreams anymore.

DISTRESS.

At present, what used to be a “daydream” as a middle-schooler seems to be more of a nightmare as I am now faced with that onerous stress that millions of high school seniors experience every year. To me, the three essays hovering over my head are what’s killing me right now. Not to sing my own praises or anything, *la laaa la la lalalala*, but writing A+ essays has always come naturally to me. I can sit down with a prompt and just bleed my heart out onto paper, words pouring out of the tip of my pencil with little to no serious effort. You’d think that this fact would calm me down a bit but the truth is, it doesn’t. At all. These aren’t just any essays, these are the essays. The essays that determine my future and whether or not I get into the school of my dreams.

I know you’re probably thinking, “Well, sit down and do what you just said you do so well: pour your heart out or whatever. It’s easy.”
Er- there is a problem though, Captain… I am horrified of sitting down and actually doing this!

The idea of sitting down and writing the essays that, as I said earlier, determine my future freaks the nails off my toes. I still can’t believe I’m a high school senior, much less come to terms with the idea that I might be living in Orange, California exactly one year from today! That being said, I also can’t come to terms with the idea that I might not be living in Orange, California exactly one year from today. It all depends on whether I get in or not, and the disappointment of not getting into Chapman University’s Dodge College of Film and Media Arts (the school I am passionate about getting into) horrifies me.

All I can do at this point is get started and really give it my all because applications to Dodge are due in November. That is in about two months.

*Hyperventilates*

Anyway, I did get started on my first essay today and I am liking where it is going so far. I just pray that I really get my point across and connect with whoever from the admissions office reads my paper! I started writing it today during my lunch period at school when I was struck across the face with the bat of inspiration. I pulled out my turquoise Mead college-ruled notebook and got to writing, all while eating my yumlicious lunch:

I made a ham and swiss cheese sandwich on German wheat-free pumpernickel bread with a side of mixed raw veggies and Lay’s Dip Creations Garden Onion dip.

That Lay’s Dip Creations Garden Onion seasoning mix is seriously BEAST. Beast in a good way of course. All you have to do is add the packet to 16 oz. of sour cream and it makes the perfect dip for chips, veggies, breads, even a whole sandwich!

All packed up!I love my Sistema “Lunch Cube-to-go.” It fits everything I need. (Yes, I have a thousand bajillion lunch boxes, you will see another one tomorrow).

I brought along a Goya coconut water drink with me in my backpack. This was a great way to wash everything down.
I am going to try to continue working on my college essay tonight since I only got the first two paragraphs half-done but overall I am satisfied with the fact that I even got started! As most people can attest, writing the first paragraph of a paper is the most challenging part. Writer’s block and a writer’s fear of writer’s block are the devil.

Unfortunately I have some Theatre Tech and precalculus homework to finish up first so off I go… to slave away… buh bye….

After being ill for the past week and a half, I have finally started to make the comeback to my energetic and slightly hyperactive usual self.

Returning back to a mucus-free brain has helped me start thinking clearly again which in turn has dissipated many of my fears from the beginning of last week. It is truly amazing how the voice of reason can silence the voice of ED, who suffers from acute foot-in-mouth syndrome, and really empower you to argue against its bits of “wisdom” and “advice.”

When it comes to battling the negative influence of an eating disorder, it is knowledge that can take on the role of a major weapon against succumbing to temptations proposed by the disorder. You do not want to sign a peace treaty with ED. You want to blow its brains out with an AK-47. This is not International Peace Studies 101, my amigos. This is war and common sense is your ammunition.

A rifle would work just as well.

This weekend, I used my common sense to resist a few opportunities that could have backpedaled my recovery and I am proud that I did not allow myself to follow these steps backward over a few small moments of stress.

For example, I sat in the car a large sum of my Saturday. ED attempted to trigger me into restricting because of this, whispering into my ear that my inactivity was going to morph into a layer of cottage cheese that would hug my thighs the way a pair of red tights does: AKA very tight and very noticeably. Using my knowledge of my body’s needs, I deracinated any power in ED’s influence by being armed with a strong retort.

“Being inactive does not give me a free pass to stop listening to my body and cut down on my normal food intake,” I growled at ED. “You are a douche bag and a know-it-all who tries to convince me of lies. I am aware that if I don’t listen to my body and start to restrict, I will end up losing weight and you know what? I don’t WANT that. YOU want that. I don’t want to be weak, grouchy, and even more vulnerable to you. Fu** off and let me enjoy my day.” I sure told him.

Apply the knowledge and common sense that you know you have and use that to argue with ED! This is one of the few occasions when being a complete smart ass is not only acceptable, but actually encouraged. So go on. Be an asshole… toward ED

But on another note, since I am unable to take (pretty) photographs of my breakfast and dinner due to unfortunate lighting and lack of time, I am going to start posting what I bring packed in my school lunches on a daily basis because I think that A) it could help people struggling get a grasp on what a “normal” packed lunch looks like and B) it could hopefully give anyone stuck in a rut some refreshing ideas!

Here is day numero uno….

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Monday
August 29, 2011

Originally, I wanted to make a sandwich so I opened my pantry to pull out a couple slices of Udi’s Millet Chia bread to find this in place of my precious loaf:

EXTRA TERRESTRIAL BREAD FROM PLANET UTAPAU!

Ewwwww. So basically, my dreams of a nice sandwich were crushed when I found a fully-settled colony of mold growing on my last slices of bread in the house. Luckily, I always have a plan B.

I pulled out my super seductive Darth Vadar lunch box and got to work on something I had been craving for a couple of days….NACHOS!

Well. At least my improvised version of the dish.

I grabbed two handfuls of black bean chips and got to work on my “queso” dip.

Karina’s Cold, Vegetabley, and Not-So-Gourmet Queso Dip
(This makes enough for one medium/smallish sized container)
  3 large spoonfuls of Tostito’s Salsa con Queso Dip
1 large spoonful of Tostito’s Medium Chunky Salsa
Sliced pickled pencil asparagus spears
Sliced snack tomatoes

I also brought some of these...Kasugai Mangosteen Gummy candies, which I bought at a Japanese store while on a downtown shopping adventure.

This lunch was tasty but it didn’t fill me up as much as I’d thought it would so when I got home from school, I was REALLY hungry! It is 107 degrees here in Texas so I was in the mood for something cold and icy… nothing better than ice cream!

I topped two scoops of Haagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream with a sliced small banana, rainbow sprinkles, and crushed butter toffee almonds.

I think this was the best snack that I’ve ever had- like, ever.

I just finished dinner which was pineapple glazed pork chops, lentils, and sauteed asian vegetables and I am about to go finish homework and hopefully play some WoW! I’ve been working hard at school and deserve a break.

Hasta manana!

The English language does not house a more accurate marriage of words than those two to describe the- well, uncomfortably awkward conditions of my 3rd period class today.

In the grave quiet of Mr. Bananapants’s* 12th grade government period, my body was behaving like the four year old rascal it most definitely is not anymore. My nose ran like a cross country runner, my stomach grumbled at a thousand decibels, and my throat itched like a bad yeast infection…. and I had zero control over it.
*names have been changed to protect the identity of the individuals mentioned

I mentally urged it to stop (as if THAT was going to work) but like the undisciplined child it was behaving as, my pleads seemed to be inaudible and of zilch importance to it. Thanks, body. Thanks.

On the airplane ride back from my vacation to Las Vegas and California (which was fabulous, by the way!), I must have contracted some sort of beastly disease because for the past week since I arrived home, I’ve been D.Y.I.N.G and guess what? Dying Young Is Not Good .

Not only can I hardly breathe, which is – like – one of my favorite activities, but I cannot even function without what seems like a martini glass full of Tylenol-Cold nor open my eyes to their full capacity! HOWEVER, due to my burning and oh-so-passionate desire to learn and sit in a classroom with other stinky high schoolers, I have returned to school with a positive attitude for yet another year of school work, romance, and challenges of all calibers.

It may seem like I have this enviable breezy outlook about it all but the reality is- I’m scared shitless. I went from a school year of four periods a day, eating lunch in the comfort of my home, and exercising double-time (before I was banned from exercise, that is) to a school year of full-time hours, a packed lunch in a school environment, and zero exercise.We are talking a lifestyle change that seems like two planets light years apart to me.

Going back to school at all last year was a huge step for me but it was time to step things up and out of my comfort zone this time around. I’m really proud of myself because….

Here I am, Karina Pinzon, as a high school senior.

One year ago today, I’d tell you I didn’t think I’d make it to the 12th grade. After a full year of being on medical leave from school and being stuck in a negative mindset that lacked all faith, I was almost sure I would end up withdrawing yet again and remain an ungraduated junior forever. All I wanted to do one year ago today was dance and die dancing. The school environment was one that petrified me – or should I say my eating disorder? – because it meant stepping out of my little cage and doing something that ED had no power to control. School meant facing real issues and real thinking work, and lets face it… ED does not like us to think- at least not for ourselves.

But thanks to my recovery team, family and my own inner strength, I made it. I made sacrifices. I made decisions. I made sense of things. And because of that, I’m a high school senior now! My sophomore and junior years, which are littered with parcels of my Anorexia, are in the past now.

That is not to say my year is going to be free of challenges and clear of my eating disorder – I still struggle just like many of you readers – but I’m in control and I feel empowered to push myself. Just as I am going to school full-time like a normal young adult, I am going to continue making it my goal to think like a normal young adult as well.

I need to live life to the fullest and stop fearing paltry things like school lunches and limited eating times. I need to keep moving on and away. And I am SO ready!

Here’s to a great 2011-2012 school year

    The graduation parties seemed endless, the get-togethers fell one after the other, and the summer heat was not yet at its most sadistic. It appeared to be the perfect formula for the perfect summer and I was ready for it to stay that way for the next three months- three months of good friends, good drinks (like freshly squeezed lemonade, duh), and good times. August could not seem further away.

    Now, call me crazy all you want, but the best part of it all was the drama I had going on at the time and when I say drama, I mean bona-fide honest-to-goodness drama.

    Yes, readers. I just said that the best part of the beginning of my summer was the drama. No worries though, it was nothing pressing nor hugely momentous. It was just, you know, big. Unfamiliar. Different.

    If I were to place myself back to the inception of summer vacation and look back six months earlier, I would have told the general public that there was zero drama in my life. Por que, you might ask? Porque my drama would have been a shameful little secret that I would not care to share.

    I wish I had the ability to eloquently put into words how amazing it feels to go from worrying about the repugnant Mr. ED to worrying about the alluring Mr. Right but it is simply something indefinable. The feeling and the excitement that comes from actively witnessing this change in state of mindset is utterly sublime and is something you must experience for yourself. Don’t let me spoil the feeling for you.

    Well. Let me spoil it for you just a little bit.

    Allow me to take you on a ride back to the past, yes? Back to those delicious times before you ever even acquaintanced Mr. ED, before you even befriended insecurity, and before you ever stole a kiss from self-hatred. I want to take you back to those times when your purpose for waking up for school in the mornings was not to learn your times tables nor take notes over long division, but to see that special someone who made your knees go weak and made your stomach melt to mush. We all remember our first crushes. Don’t even try to utter the colossal lie that you’ve never once felt that fleeting flicker in your gut and that pounding beating in your heart over another earthling. Don’t even try. We have all felt it. We have all beared it.

    And sure those crushes hurt when they were unrequited but it’s undebatable that all those crushes added some excitement, some vibrant color to our otherwise (possibly) monotonous lives.

    I understand, however, if perhaps romance never took up a jumbo slice of your life. Perhaps your friends and family were number one, or maybe your grades were the larger drive behind your existence. Whatever it was, the truth of the matter is that all those things that pushed you, that gave your life its tang took a backseat when ED came into the picture. They all ceased to matter as much, and gradually waned and faded to a hollow blur.

    AND I HATE THAT. I DON’T WANT YOUR LIFE TO LOSE ITS TANG.

  My life at the moment is still rather tangy. Its got a bit of zest, a bit of bite. Kind of like a Wonka Fruit Runt. But I liked it better when it was more like a….. Sour Skittle.

I’ve always been drawn to the Sour Skittle’s perfect matrimony between sweet and sour, the way they flawlessy intertwine to create an acidic gem of crunchy yet chewy perfection that scorches your tongue if you go a little overboard. I like that pinch of danger in my life but now that summer is halfway over, it seems to have dulled out a little.

    At the beginning of summer, the fever of freedom was passionately burning. I had some hot summer flings and everyone wanted to hang out, party, and play hard but now… everyone wants to chill (that and my summer flings are not as hot anymore).

    Don’t get me wrong, my chilling abilities have vastly improved since the peak of my illness but I am still far from being a virtuoso at chilling. I’m practically still a novice.

    I detest that awful drive inside of me that pushes me to believe that I always have to be busy, that I always have to have plans, that I always have to stay productive, and that I always have to do something. What ever happened to the careless life I had in the days of yore where I could stay at home and play on the computer or watch TV all day if nothing “good” came up? What ever happened to “the days of chill?”

    I very animatedly spoke to my psychologist about this subject yesterday and how annoyed I am about the death of my ability to veg out and hang loose (ha. ha.). I expressed to him that I feel very pressured and almost even triggered now that I’m stuck in this span that lacks constant plans and where I don’t have the safety and comfort of a set schedule such as the one I had when I was in school/party mode. I discovered something big yesterday in my session with my therapist: I use a busy calendar as a diversion from my Eating Disorder. The hustle and bustle of activity is my crutch.

    Well, eff you.

    Guess what I am doing today? Chilling, because I have been given a homework assignment to do just that.

Meet my cousin Sebastian. This is half of his face.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It is critical to recovery, whether you are weight recovered or not, to do the opposite of what your disorder instructs you to do. Challenging yourself is crucial no matter what stage of recovery you are in. I may be doing very well but if I want to continue to do well and improve, I need to continue challenging myself and never stop, even when I feel ED is gone and far away. I can’t write myself off as recovered and give up everything I have learned. Ever. So here I am, completing my homework assignment.

    So what is my day going to look like? I’m seeing lots of movies, ice cream and World of Warcraft sessions in my immediate future today and I know ED is going to try to make me feel guilty about it at some point BUT…. I’m going to take my psychologist’s advice and block him out, throwing a few “shut ups” and “eff yous” his way. His complaints just don’t belong in my life. I don’t have to do something every. single. damn. day. Even if ED says so.

    So ciao, my friends! I’m off to go chill and I highly suggest you stay in and do the same. I know I’m not alone in this struggle