Giving Up

Giving up is easy. It’s a quick way out. It’s the easy way out. It makes your problem disappear. For a short while. But it’s still there when you come back. Giving up doesn’t make your problems vanish. They just get shoved under the rug – waiting for you to return so it can resurface.

I’ve tried many, many times in my life to give up. I have thought that I couldn’t deal, didn’t want to deal and just gave up. I figured that whatever I was trying to cope with would simply go away. And it did. But it was still lingering and had the same intensity and required the same amount of attention. I just prolonged the inevitable.

It’s not always easy to deal with problems. Big or small. But in life, we have to – that’s part of survival.

My Eating Disorder is certainly no exception. I have wanted to give up MANY MANY times. MANY TIMES. MOST OF THE TIME. I figure that by giving up it will just go away. Somehow it won’t exist anymore. But I know that really isn’t possible. Giving up and allowing the Eating Disorder to win is just that. Letting the problem win because I decided to give up. It’s like the old saying goes, “Anything worth having is worth fighting for.” And my life is worth having – so I have learnt to fight and not give up. That I can fight. I am strong. I am capable and I cannot take the easy way out. That will lead to emotional and physical pain. The easy way out will lead to my death. So I have been forced to fight. I have chosen to fight. I have chosen not to give up. This has given me strength, this has given me another chance at life and it has proven that I am able to fight for myself, fight for my life and NOT GIVE UP.

It’s hard to fight and not give up. But you need to prove to yourself that you can do it. If you set your mind to something do it. Put in the work, give it the effort it deserves and show yourself that you can do whatever you want to. Giving up cannot be an option. You are worth fighting for whatever you want.

My Eating Disorder has taught me that I am worth it and giving up cannot be an option. If I do, my family will bury me at 43 years old.



Another YouTuber I have been following.

Saw this four part series she did and thought it was a great idea. She struggled for 15 years with an Eating Disorder. She’s better now but admits to the voices sometimes haunting her. But she fights them off by doing what we all should.

Let me know what your fear foods are.


Another YouTuber I have been following.

Saw this four part series she did and thought it was a great idea. She struggled for 15 years with an Eating Disorder. She’s better now but admits to the voices sometimes haunting her. But she fights them off by doing what we all should.

Let me know what your fear foods are.

Tying The Knot. Well, cutting the cord.

Back in 2015 Rob and I decided that we weren’t going to have any more children. We explored a few different options and it seemed that having my tubes tied was the best choice. They actually don’t tie them anymore. They cut them. It also reduces your chances of ovarian cancer by 50%.

We scheduled my surgery for November of 2015.
As the date approached I was petrified. Not of the surgery. I wasn’t worried at all about that. I was scared because that meant I wouldn’t be able to take laxatives.

Can you believe it? That was my concern. How stupid and sad? My whole life revolved around my eating disorder that I was letting it hold me back from so many things and creating emotions that were so unnecessary. I somehow looked at every situation and wondered how I could fit my illness in. I didn’t want to stop yet, I wasn’t ready – so being “forced” to stop because of surgery was not an option. At the same time, I thought maybe this was a good thing. I wouldn’t have a choice so perhaps this may give me the push I need. But deep down I knew I wasn’t ready to give it up and would find a way to do what I wanted.

And I did. Three days post surgery when I was so sore, so dehydrated, so tired both physically and emotionally I went to the drugstore and bought laxatives and was able to spend the next couple of days in bed. Hey, I had surgery after all!

It’s ridiculous looking back now that I was so caught up in making sure my illness fit into every part of my life no matter when and at any cost.

My life is busy. With three kids, a full time job and everything else going on there is always somewhere to be and something to do. But I always made damn sure that ED was part of everything I did.

Now, I’m trying to do the complete opposite. I am making damn sure that ED is not a part of everything I do.

What Scares Me The Most?

That was a question sent to me.

Aside from the obvious fear of death and leaving my family and friends without me, my biggest fear is this illness being a part of my life forever.

I will always know the ‘comfort’ ED gave me at times of crises. I will always know the calories of so many foods. I will always know laxatives will get rid of your awful bloating.

Not being able to erase those memories makes it that much harder to fight and recover.

The trick I have learned to try and get through those fears is remembering all of the good stuff. The life I have been living for 196 days.

But I’m scared shitless about never fully letting go. I I have to and must accept is a huge possibility. But we all have urges and temptations in our daily lives. It’s not acting on them that is very difficult.

But we must make decisions that we know are the right ones and the ones that will bring us happiness.

So yes I am afraid. Very afraid. But that also pushes me to get better so that I’m not AS scared by coping with how I feel and doing something positive about it.

Another trick I have learned is to look at what happens after the laxative overdose. Sure I’m empty and have a flat stomach for a couple days after, bu it always comes back. So I am perpetuating the behaviour.

It is a vicious cycle that won’t end unless I end it. By recovering I put a stop to actions that are not long term resolutions. They are short term and don’t bring any happiness to my life. In fact, it does the opposite. It starts the cycle again. Trying to convince me that at any point I can stop.

That desire to stop comes from me. Not ED. He has loved living my life. I have to stop the cycle in order to live.

Weekend – End of March Break

I get it. It’s hard to entertain your kids for a week. It’s hard to keep them entertained and happy. But it drives me BONKERS when people post stupid comments on social media about how happy they are to get rid of their kids and send them back to school. There is funny and there is obnoxious. Some people take it to the stupid extreme.

I have three rambunxious boys that love sports, love to argue, love to vedge and love to make forts. So it takes a lot of juggling and scheduling to make sure they are doing what they like and spending time having fun and relaxing when they need to.

I would NEVER be able to spend enough time with them. They are my kids, my life and my reason for being. Yes, time apart is good for everyone but I would never phrase it as “getting rid of them.”

These feelings are especially strong after this weekend. I went to see a musical with a couple of my wonderful neighbors and Cooper joined us and their girls. At one point, he grabbed and held my hand. He turned to me and said “You are such a good mom because you take care of me all the time.”

Out of nowhere. He was thinking such wonderful things about me and told me how he felt. The fact that he said it made my heart melt. The fact that those thoughts went through that tiny little mind of his is absolutely priceless. It makes me feel so incredibly greatful and appreciative that I am doing something right. That he sees the love I have for him and that he has such love for me. It is a feeling that is indescribable.

If you have been following my posts you will know that the last few days have been up and down emotionally for me. It’s times like this when all of the down moments are completely erased by my 7 year old son telling me that I’m basically a kick ass mom.

His few words made a complete difference in my morning, my day, my week, my month, my year and my recovery. That gives me strength to keep going.

I’ve lied to you

Today is 195 days since I took my last laxative. Truth.

I’ve introduced new foods into my diet. Truth.

I’ve let my guard down and I have been open about my past. Truth.

I’ve put on weight and I’m okay with it. Lie. I said I would be okay and was okay with it. Nope. I’m not.

I know I have to. But today when I weighed myself, I felt a little punch to my gut. I wasn’t expecting what I saw. I wasn’t prepared to deal with it. I said I wouldn’t weigh myself but it has been so long that I was curious to see. Something about those stupid numbers changed how I felt in the blink of an eye. I know better. I know I am a better person for going through every daily struggle that I fight. I know this. Logical Lisa knows. But that Eating Disorder is engrained in my daily thoughts. Even as my voice gets louder that voice still exists. Trying to convince me that my old lifestyle is easier and better.

It’s not. I certainly know that. But again, this illness doesn’t make sense. It exists and thrives off catching you in a weak and vulnerable moment. And that’s exactly what it did today.

I was angry that it has that power. I was angry that I let it overtake the great day I was having. I was angry that I cared. But I’m human and have lived with this fear for so long that I had to cut myself some slack. It’s normal. Those feelings make sense after all I have gone through.

I looked at the situation and decided I had a choice to make. I could go to the laxative isle and take off those pounds that were bothering me. Or I could think logically. Logically. Logically acknowledge that THIS HAS TO HAPPEN. It literally is a matter of my life and death.

I will live in this prison forever until one day ED wins. I will die. Because of numbers. Because of food. Because the voice of this mental illness was louder and stronger than mine.

I was not going to let that happen. I’ve been able to see the life I am capable and worthy of living.

I left Walmart, passing Shoppers Drug Mart on the way home. Truth.