the story of ned (my nasty little eating disorder).


you're wondering who ned is.


i don't blame you.

ned is my name for my nasty little eating disorder.

i was diagnosed about two and half years ago with non-purging bulimia, after struggling with little or no help for two years.

so now its been close to five years and i finally feel like the story of ned is...well, it's not ending so much as, just becoming less important.

i made the decision to speak openly about my eating disorder because one of the reasons it was so difficult to find someone to help me was that so little is known (even among medical professionals) regarding eating disorders.

if you think you might be dealing with your own ned, i can't emphasize the importance of seeking help. and i'm not talking about your general practitioner or even a run-of-the-mill therapist. look for someone who specializes in this field.

with any questions or comments, don't hesitate to email me: fee.meg@gmail.com



so here's the story from the beginning:

(the first two posts listed give the best background information)








the white flag. (where i am currently).


yes, they do.


two days ago i thanked regina for this reminder,

i've got a perfect body, but sometimes i forget.

and then taza reminded me (as taza tends to do) that the in full, the quote is:

i've got a perfect body, but sometimes i forget, i've got a perfect body 'cause my eyelashes catch my sweat, yes they do.

of course, i thought. 

of course (my favorite response). 

these bodies of ours do amazing things each and every day. so...this is my charge to you:

why is your body perfect?

mine?

well.

because my feet get me from one end of the tunnel to the next. 

and about a million other reasons. but that's the one i'll give. 

so now you. 

i want to know. 

and then i want to make a list.

and then we'll have begun the revolution without even realizing it.

what are you waiting for--why are you still reading this?

go.



ps: according to glamour magazine,
animal prints are making a
comeback (when did they ever
go away?) and so i've decided
to wear my zebra shoes
all the time, since i think i'm finally
coming back to myself.
yes, i am.

25 before 25

Inspired by the amazing Carolyn over at My Thirty Before 30 Journey, I decided to make my own list. I said I needed a change? Well, it's in my hands to make it happen. My half birthday is April 4, so I have a year and a half to begin these--to make them a priority. I've lost sight of how much fun goals can be (I say this now, we'll see how I feel three months, six months, a year from now {though I have a feeling I'm going to love these--how hard some of them are--how much of a challenge they'll present})



1. take a trip abroad

2. read 25 new books
3. fall in love with running
4. give up soda and coffee (and yes, that mean's saying goodbye to starbucks)
5. figure out how to get some swimming into my life
6. host a dinner party
7. finally start a book club (stop talking about it and just do it)
8. get a job that i truly love (even if it's only temporary)
9. see the elephants walk through manhattan
10. see the yankees play in the new stadium
11. explore and document different nyc neighborhoods
12. write a little. every day. stretch those creative muscles.
13. choose 15 of shakespeare's great female monologues. disect them. figure them out.
14. speak a little poetry--a little shakespeare out loud every day
15. improve my spanish speaking skills
16. stop buying tabloid magazines
17. unleash my inner fashion mavin
18. lower my cholesterol
19. figure out what my happy weight is
20. eat at least five fruits and veggies each day
21. treat my body with the respect it deserves 
22. get my finances in order
23. become a real--working--professional actor
24. say goodbye to ned. for good.
25. fall in love




What would you put on your list? Do you all have any suggestions?

I did the unthinkable. I got on the scale.


I have a modern day dilemma. It goes something like this: why would I want to enter into an industry where everyone has an eating disorder, where in order to succeed one must be beyond thin? Is it possible to be a successful actress and live in one's normal body? 

Did anyone catch the globes? Did anyone happen to see Sally Hawkins, winner of the Golden Globe for best actress in a comedy or musical? Oh boy. All I can do is slowly exhale when I think about it. She was so thin. Emaciated thin. I will be the first to admit that I, like so may others, consider a thin body to be at the apex of what is beautiful. Not because society deems it so, but because I consider it so (well, but then I have to think about what influence society has on my own beliefs, etc. etc.--a whole pyschological probe that I don't have time to invest in today (and probably don't want to)). The point is, even I, in all my distorted splendor, looked at her and felt squeamish. And then sad. So thin was she that my friend described her as saying, "do not pass go, do not collect $200." I asked someone in the know, about the actresses there, 

"please tell me what are they doing--are any of them healthy?"

"Very few" he said. "Look at the actresses that you really respect, who's work speaks for them--those, those are the actresses who are healthy." 

"Cate Blanchett?" I asked, "but she's so thin."

"And yet she doesn't suffer form an eating disorder."

Oh. Oh. Oh.

So this morning I had a lovely breakfast with Naomi...




(trying to fill the necessary picture quota)

...and I said..."how can I go into a business where everyone suffers from it, but no one opens their mouth to say anything?"

And in all her wise glory Naomi said the following: "People suffer from it in the business, as well as outside of it. You won't escape it by choosing another career path. You're going to face it everywhere, you might as well face it while doing what you love."

And there it was, God's miracle: infinite wisdom in the form of my many friends.

Dr. Bob once told me that the actresses who handle the issue of weigh the best, are the ones who recognize it's just a part of their job. Just as executives are forced to wear a suit, so are actors expected to go to the gym and look their best. It may not be right, but it's part of the business. This makes sense to me. I can do this. It's like wearing a suit. And I want to wear a suit that I feel comfortable in.

I've made great strides in coming to terms with the body I have. That doesn't mean I don't want to lose weight. I've hid from the scale for...oh, I don't even know how long now. I've asked to not have my weight measured when I go to the doctor (you can do that--did you know? though if it's been a year, they'll make you climb up there anyway). I've stopped wearing jeans all together. And I've avoided cameras at all costs. So the other day, in an effort act courageously, I met my long lost friend, the scale. Yes, I know, you're wondering about my choice of the word, "friend". Well, the scale is just a feedback mechanism. And whether or not I like the number I see, the scale is just letting me know where I stand. Good friends do that, they tell you like it is.

Well, I didn't like the number I saw. Not one bit. But I didn't fall apart. And for that reason, I get to rejoice. And take action. More vegetables, more fruit. Less processed junk. Because in the end it's not about a number on the scale, it's about my cholesterol, and thyroid function, and resting heart rate. I want to be healthier. I pledge to be healthier. Here and now I pledge to embrace the long-forgotten  fruits and vegetables (mothers the world round can now rejoice!). And water, I can't forget water. I embrace health. And the power of foods that give me the energy to keep fighting the good fight.

And if the number on the scale goes down at all, well then that would be one of God's many miracles too. But it's not the point. And that is the point.