Giving Thanks

Oddly enough, I've never spent a whole lot of time on Thanksgiving actually being thankful for shit. I bitch and moan and complain to God so much that I feel like I rarely take the time to say, "hey, thanks for... well, everything, really." I did a bit of that yesterday, and the day before. It was easy, I think, in part because growing up Thanksgiving wasn't about giving thanks either, it was about my mom, my dad, my sister and I making a big dinner and starting to decorate for Christmas. There were no relatives, no big traditions (aside from who made the pie -- I'm a pumpkin pie magician), and I always felt really uneasy about a holiday that revolved around food anyway, though I wasn't really able to put this into words when I was four and a half.

Also, there was usually some sort of big argument. Normally that came as a result of my mother drinking. It's not that I don't have fond memories of Thanksgiving, it's just that it was never as warm or fuzzy or communal as others' seemed to be.

In college, things were no different. During my freshman year I had macaroni sans cheese and a shot of rum for Thanksgiving dinner, because I refused to make the 3,000 mile trip to my parents' place for what amounted to a four-day weekend (we still only get Thursday and Friday off from class). During my sophomore year I was in treatment, and on a ridiculously high meal plan. Pretty much every meal was a Thanksgiving dinner, and I had five huge pieces of pie throughout the day as well. Not a pleasant memory.

This Thanksgiving was actually very well-spent. I went over to my really good friend's place, and we made mashed potatoes, corn, salad, turkey (for her), butternut squash soup (for me), and I did pumpkin pie again. I wasn't able to make the crust from near-scratch like I usually do, but it still came out great. And yes, I even ate some of it. It was a really good day in terms of confronting my food anxieties because I ate a much larger variety than I was used to, and I ate more than I was used to, but I still lost the same amount of weight today as I've been losing on less calories (I don't say this to frame weight loss as an accomplishment, but to prove that more calories + fear foods ≠ weight gain). We smoked cigarettes and watched "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" DVDs. It was a good night. My body was also a lot happier with me because it was getting ever so slightly more energy than usual, so it allowed me to be more present. Of course, I still had massive anxieties about the food and even though I was still eating what is technically a starvation diet, it felt like a binge. So it's not something I'm comfortable with or want to make a habit of (although I'll have to eat even a bit more over Christmas break). But it was a tiny victory over the eating disorder, I guess.


^ My pumpkin pie! (Unfortch with store-bought crust, ick.)