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Hi all! Me again. =)

The topic of the day: food, or better yet: eating too much of it. Yes, even if binge eating is not recognized as an official "eating disorder", in my opinion it is a raging disease. As the keen internet surfer I am, I looked up information about it, testimonials, medical advice and such. Summarizing my findings, binge eating can be caused by a variety of factors, but most of them are pure psychological. Our mind and, sometimes, chemical imbalances, are what starts -or rather triggers- it all. Let me share with you my own experience on the matter, because lets face it I AM a binge eater.

History. I was always a chubby child, even during my adolescence (when hormones urged me to look good above all) I was always over the recommended average weigh for my height. So I grew up not being addicted to food, but allowing myself sweet guilty pleasures too regularly. I only achieved my “goal” weigh during college by replacing meals and snacks for coffee and cigarettes which I DO NOT recommend at all, being as unhealthy alternative (if not more) as eating too much. Then I managed to maintain a somewhat skinny figure until I had my first child (third year of college) and after that with, an again, not so healthy choice of partying all night long a few times a week plus coffee and cigarettes. [Side note: During that time I made A LOT of mistakes in terms of hurting people, my partners at the moment. It was like a rush of adrenaline to be able to “play” with people like that. (If you have read Fanny Hill, you will immediately realize what I mean.) For that I AM very sorry. Nothing should be an excuse to play and hurt people’s feelings. End of side note.] Soon enough I got married, had two more children and completely lost my “will power” (if I ever had any) over food, but at least I quitted smoking.

Temperament. I am a text book sanguine with too much of melancholic for my own good. Though I have to admit that in matters of work and school (and even housecleaning), I am (or rather was) more of a choleric. I’ve learned over the years that too much of anything is not good at all, so I have adapted. To that I have to thank greatly my husband, who is a classic phlegmatic and had taught me a thing or two about patience and not worrying too much. That same spirit I share about food. I love food, period. I eat a LOT of junk food (which I think I would never be able quit completely) and fast foods with erratic and even ailing patterns (and amounts).

Metabolism. Adding insult to injury, mine is as lazy as koala. I’m not able to even look at sweets without gaining a pound or two and add to that the lack of time for a proper workout routine (my primal and eternal excuse). To my defense, I started going to the gym “regularly” as time permits, with the rigorous coaching of my mom, so we are in better track on that task. It’s definitively a lot more pleasing than working out by myself. To tell the truth, she’s a very good trainer (a bit compulsive sometimes, but good nonetheless). And it also allows us to catch up on that mother-daughter time we missed when I was younger.

Diets. I have done dietary plans successfully in the past, at least a couple of times with good results. After my second child, I started with a low-carb diet, aided with a mild acupuncture treatment that left me on a somewhat desirable weight until I got pregnant again. *sighs* Then after my third child, I recurred to a weight-loss program based on portion-eating plans and a regular exercise routines which, to be honest, I never followed to the letter, but still I was again in shape and able to eat a good dessert often enough. My cue to gain weight again, I was too happy with myself. O_o Yes as you read it, too happy. The free spirit in me started to grow a little too free indeed and it needed to be stopped, for what I am not a young single bird anymore.

Emotions. The devilish thing that started it all for me. Three years back (exactly a year after being in shape so effectively) my tricky mind betrayed me. I suffered from a severe depression that led me to full-time therapy for about three months and periodical check ups for a while after that. Therapists were a great asset, helping me to find the root behind my depression -and other habits I had ignored to that point in my life. [On a side note, I have a predisposition to the infamous bipolar syndrome which could (if not DO) explain some of my anxiety episodes and marked changes in mood over the years. End of side note.] I would eat if I am sad, happy, frustrated, angry, anxious, tired or even if I am just plain bored. It is more than comfort food, it is a vice. One that I use to fill the “holes” I had convinced myself I have in my life, even when some of them I created artificially in order to “excuse” myself to binge eat. Or, in the worst case scenario, fearing to become that selfish and horrible person I was when I thought looks were THAT important in order to manipulate people (this one was not artificially created, but believe me, I BECAME a completely different person, so out of character that I lost most of my friends and one of the loves of my life.)

Activities. My hobbies are mostly listening to music, reading, writing, watching TV and all things web-based (twitter, youtube, blogs, etc.), a bad combination in terms of calorie consuming activities. I do enjoy walking on the park or the beach, a good volleyball session with my kids or swimming in the pool, activities I do not perform as often as want to (or dare to say need to). As a good sanguine I get excited too quickly with new projects, but just as fast I change my point of interest. I love to write and read, but I just get bored from time to time. The same thing happens with work, school and even domestic chores. And then, I recur again to food whenever I don’t know what to do or how to finish one of my many ongoing projects (ones that I loved so much at some earlier point). [Another side note: The only interest that has been constant on my watch for the past few years (and I am NOT ashamed to admit) is my love and admiration for all things Smallville which is still in focus (and probably will be forever) XD Totally true. End of side note.]

Secrets. I will let you in a few secrets of mine that may help you understand this binge eating of mine, and probably will help you to recognize yourself in them. First, I am a natural coquette, always have and I think I always will, aggravating the fact that I am also a helpless romantic. Imagine yourself sunk in the routine of marriage (not discussing those detail here) for so long you need to “breathe”. Solution: having some “me time”. My regular “me times” NOW are alone with my books or my computer at a Starbucks or at the office after work hours. But when you look good and are friendly, people is attracted to you and you get invited to social events, then you meet more people and eventually a man will pop out interested in you. That was my excuse for being content not attracting anyone and secluding myself –and though it may sound childish- it worked. Second, and it is based again in some of the inner workings of marriage, sex can get boring or scarce over time. That is a low punch for me, because I have always been very sensual and physical in terms of love (and love making). I know that intimacy is not just SEX, but when you commit to ONE partner, the relation needs to be successful in that area as well. Anyways, eating too much food and being overweight is my excuse to an insufficient “love life” –lame, totally lame– but again, it worked.

OMG! I just realized I have blabbered over 1,000 words only as preamble for my resolution. Sorry about that. :P

Here it comes. Food is my vice and I am quitting today, one step at a time. Though I love myself the way I am, my health and overall well-being should be as important to me as having a good career or being the world’s greatest mom (and I definitively won’t complain if I loose a few pounds in the process). I am committing to change the way I burden myself with excuses to binge eat (and binge smoke, if that term even exist); because I KNOW NOW that truly it is for the better.

Over and out!

It may seem like a teenage subject, but it is definitively not.

Life is a constant competition between groups and a building pressure pot within them. When I was growing up, let's say in Middle School/Junior High, I was desperately searching for my niche. Needless to say, I was nerdy, awkward and not good-looking enough to stand out (things that I STILL am). Trying to fit into "well-defined" groups was hard, very hard in fact. You had the intellectual ones, the cool kids, the athletics, etc. You get the picture. And I might add that I studied in a Catholic Private School, fact that only made things worse because we were not the wealthy kind or anything.

Anyways, I jumped between groups and found out that I didn't fit within any of them (except for the popular kids, in which I was never actually accepted). I went from nerdy geek to cheerleader wannabe to nothing at all in a blink of an eye. Imagine that! So, it was like that until High School, where I was prompt to lower my expectations of life and just be whatever was needed (or convenient) at the moment. Same thing happened during College.

I never liked the conventional life: house, work, husband, kids... But I settled for it after hopping between "grown-up" life styles. And believe me, I DID a lot of hopping. I even had a girlfriend for a while after I had my first kid. Talk about going with the flow.

My point today is that I've lived and learned to be cool with whatever situation or people fate brings you, trying not to be over-analytical or too sensitive about anything. Not good at all. Recently I just discovered myself in school again, trying to be good to everybody, trying to feel and please people around me. The lesson learned before was somehow forgotten by my brain and I just fell again in the same mud-puddle of insecurity.

Let's take my online friends for example, who are in fact my only friends at the moment (will discuss that later). I love and admire them all. Yes, you got that right: ALL. To me, it does not matter if they are bitter or badmouthed or sweet as candy. I respect their individuality and hope for them to do the same. Some had become rather good friends more than just virtual images in my PC. Others not so much, but you can't please everyone, can you?

One thing is sure though, they are no different from the kids at school or the persons that you go to work/college with. They are people, and people have feelings. What I'm trying to say is that, no matter what you think or what you like (or not) we are a social group in a social environment.

Whenever someone follows me on Twitter or Facebook or any of my blogs I feel good because I have made a friend. The rest of the people who does not follow are just executing their right to desist. That's fine. Now, when someone follow and then "unfollow" or even "block" me without apparent explanation, my heart aches. I can't help nor explain it. It does.

So, just to be clear this is me unveiled. No more pretending!! I won't fit in any group cause I AM ME!! And I invite you to do the same. Share with the ones that are like you and with the ones that are not. It is fun and you will learn a thing or two in the process.

I am Enid Gisella (or DT if you may). Full time Administration Manager, Part Time student, Loving Wife, Cool Mother of three beautiful boys, a Geek, a Fan of all things Smallville/Superman, Musical, Romantic, and REAL!!!

I love Smallville (all its characters and ships, though currently I AM all for Clois). I respect all of my fellow fans too. Welcome Clana, Chlark, Lotess, Chollie, Clex, Clois *hugs* And, even if I tried, I could never hate any of its characters (well except in the obvious "I'm the villain" way). Love all the seasons 1-10 and Clark is my favorite character, followed by Lois. Have the hots for Tom (who doesn't) as well as for Erica (not in a creepy way). And have a neat collection of all things Smallville (physically and digitally). Love to play around with fanart and vids, though I'm not as good as others, I LOVE to do it.

My favorite comics is Superman, second favorite Witchblade. Love everything related to Superman (no matter where it comes from or who is involved). Love Superman Returns, though my favorite Supes movie is the 1978 version with Christopher Reeve (RIP). Also have a collection of digital comics up to 150 GB and every now and then I buy an actual book at Borders.

Music is the best thing of everything (and I love soundtracks to the point of obsession). I have a complete collection of music for Smallville, Moonlight, BTVS, Roswell, The OC, OTH, and at least a hundred soundtracks from movies as well.

Love to write, whether audience like it or not, is a part of my heart/life poured on a piece of paper (or a digital post lol): poetry, novels, dabbles, fanfictions, smuts, RFPs. You name it, I'm in. I love to read those creations from others as well -and novels too (preferably romantic or science fiction). I have over 10 blogs and forums and I'm proud for it.

TV shows that have me hooked (besides Smallville) are Castle, Fringe, Bones, House, Chuck, Hawaii 5-0, No Ordinary Family, Being Human... a lot more. And I remember with joy those series that changed my life like Gilmore Girls, Friends, Roswell, Sea Quest, The OC, Moonlight, BTVS, Angel, and many others. And others that I liked at the beginning, but not so much now are Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice and OTH to name a few.

I'm pretty sure there are lots of other things, but I kind of need to get back to work. XD

One last thing. I believe that EVERYONE is his/her best version of himself/herself. And for that I respect their individuality and value their existence. *hugs*

Over and out!

Enjoy!!

Chapter 4 // Her http://betweenloveandreality.blogspot.com/2011/03/chapter-4.html


P.S.
I've decided not to post the entire chapter here, but only on the dedicated blog. (It's all because of my laziness lol) You can still leave your comment here. They are most appreciated!! :)

Him

I feel the truck slow down and enter a graveled driveway. Apparently, my driveway. She puts the car to a complete stop. Too sudden. My head continues to spin, but awareness is downing on me. Bit by bit. I squint. Yes, it is my house I see close by.

Gazing around the stillness of the night, I wonder if I slept through the entire trip. After all, it’s almost an hour from the bar. I do remember taking glimpses at her. Quick shots of an angel in my head. Oh God! Almost an entire bottle of tequila and all I can think about is her.

I find it funny though. That she drove me home? The ironies of life. The very reason that got me this drunk in the first place. Her. If only she knew. If only I was brave enough to tell. I wish.

Silently, I support myself on her to get out of the truck. Silently. Mostly, because I don’t trust myself to form a coherent sentence at the moment. But secretly, because if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. Not yet. Being so close to her nears heaven for me.

I follow her down the driveway and up to the porch stairs. Intoxicated. Yes, alcohol may have something to do with it. But it is not all. Her scent is exhilarating. Her hair sways near my face and again, all I can think about is her. All I can smell is her. Cherries and cinnamon.

We stop before the massive wood-steel double door. She spaces the distance between us. I sigh. She looks worried. I give an unspoken curse for not being able to react. “Keys?” I hear her ask. That sweet voice. She stares at me. Those endearing eyes. Keys!! I shudder.

I remember vaguely putting them in my jacket earlier tonight. Vaguely being the key word. “In my jacket pocket.” I say not sure if it’s coming out as a statement or a question. Shame. One that is quickly forgotten when I feel her hands roam my sides. I lean.

Once again, she is close to me. So close. Being completely honest, I’m still not sure of what is going on. Is she really here? Or is my mind playing tricks on me? I bend our dreary truth for a moment and imagine us together. Coming home. Together.

I take in her warmth. Her touch. My body instinctively responds to our unexpected proximity state. I can’t do anything to prevent it. She owns me, unknowingly. Accidentally. Or is it? I bow my face even closer to hers.

The idea of kissing her luscious lips invades my mind. Right here. Right now. No consequences measured. She stops me. I groan. Disappointed. Hurt. Reality kicks me in the gut. She finds the keys. Dreamland seems more appealing now. I remise.

I open my eyes. What an odd night! I discover myself lying on my couch. Not a sight of her. Did I dream it all?

Chapter 3: http://betweenloveandreality.blogspot.com/2011/02/chapter-3.html

Her

Ten years is too long for a single project. I need to move on. It is time. But for tonight, I will enjoy the celebration. I think. That is until I see him. Once again he is isolated. Drunk? I often imagine us being friends. We could have tried. But we didn’t.

I wonder what makes him drink so hard. Every time. I saw his wife earlier. Maybe that has something to do with it. Being this our last night “together”, I guess I will never know. In the meantime, I try not to think about it. About him. Nothing good will ever come from that.

I fail. Watching him, brow to table, it breaks my heart. I reach his table. He looks miserable. “Hey!” I call his attention. “You have to stop drinking, like now!” I say, but get no response. He is almost unconscious.

Behind the back doors, I talk to the bar owner. Jimmy, a good friend of mine. “I’ll leave my car here. Take the keys. I’ll call for them later.” He looks at me in shock and then he jokes. “But you don’t even look tipsy!” It is not uncommon for me to ask for this. I often drink. A lot. As well. I glare at Jimmy and point at him. He immediately gets the situation and nods.

I drag him out the door. Too heavy. He maybe unconscious, but his subconscious is well aware that he is leaving the tequila bottle behind. “I am taking you home.” Again, no response. Only a look that pierce my very skin.

The journey elapses quietly. So does the night. I know the directions by heart. Though I have never entered his house. Their house. He and his wife had invited us so many times. Too many. I managed to avoid it. Every time. It was not an easy task to do. We work and, sort of, hang together. But overall, we spend almost every hour of every day together. It had to be done that way.

I recognize temptation when I see it. And he was it for me back then. He still is now. I needed to keep him at arm’s length. If not more. I yet can’t believe I’m pulling this off. Taking him home. I need to call his wife. Again.

“Lucy, I’m calling because your husband had a bit too much to drink tonight. Go figure. I’m driving him to your house. I don’t know if you heard any of my previous messages, but please give me a call. Thanks!”

I am rolling down a no-luck road tonight. First, I miss part of our farewell party. Second, I break my own rules of proximity with him. And now we are approaching his house and his wife is nowhere to be found. Just my luck.

Is not the first time I go that way. Not even close. Life is not easy for me and Brian. We met too young. And got engaged too soon. By the time I met him, the wedding was a work in progress.

I never saw the trouble, anyway. He showed no interest for me at the moment. None. I sometimes think, he even regrets me replacing his long time partner. A nice girl. Very pretty too.

We are approaching our destiny. He looks at me. Confused. I swear I see a smirk on his lips. Maybe I’m the one who’s drunk. Or maybe I’m just dreaming.

Chapter 2: http://betweenloveandreality.blogspot.com/2011/02/chapter-2.html

Him

It has been almost ten years since I met her. And though my reason is regretting that fact, deep down, my heart feels only joy for having her in my life. Somehow.

Everybody is happy. I see. The occasion calls for it. We have finished a long and exhausting project. A hard, yet delighted, experience for all of us. Especially or me.

“I rather have my partner back.” I said back then. Blind to new possibilities, to new people. But after all, fate had its hand well played and planted her, for me. I think. A little too late.

Now I feel like I want to turn back time, just to have one more moment. With her.

She is so full of life, so what my own life lacks of. Sometimes. When I am with her, I tend to forget everything. Everyone. I need to get her out of my head. Now!

I have decided to drown all of this away. Tequila. One shot, two shots… nothing. A third? To forget her beautiful smile. A fourth? To dismiss the fact that she completes me. A fifth? To… my wife.

Yes, she was here too, but not into the celebration. She had come to talk to me. Privately.

“I left everything in place.” She said. My wife. But I tried not to pay too much attention to the matter. I focus on my drink. She kisses my cheek and bids me good bye, heading for the door. Everybody sees her. Even her. I dismay.

I ponder for a while how I got to this place. Not this place literally, but the place where my mind and soul are vanished now. A limbo. My hands dance with the shot glasses.

I don’t hate my wife. And as far as I am concerned, she does not hate me either. We are friends. Good friends. Always friends. There is just not enough passion left in our once burning love. Gone. Although it has been hard to adjust, it has been also relieving.

Going back to the subject of my fifth shot. Or was it sixth? I can’t tell for sure. Ten years today and it seemed like a lifetime together. All and all, this ends tonight. Either I coward down myself into a corner and let her go, like I always do, or I brave up and tell her how I feel. How I really feel about her. Tonight.

Seems to me that the latter will not be happening. I can barely stand straight. Damn tequila.

I do see her. Enjoying the music. Dancing with our colleagues. Sipping her drink. Oblivious to my presence. She looks more breathtaking than I can contain. I turn around and ask for another shot.

My forehead hits the table. I lose all contact with reality. My head is spinning. Again. Damn tequila.

I open my eyes, back to semi-consciousness. I am in my truck. How? On the passenger’s seat. When? I try to clear my fuzzy head and grip on whatever it is happening. I see her. Driving my car?

I smile inwardly because, in all honesty, I can’t move a muscle. I doze off again.


Chapter 1: http://betweenloveandreality.blogspot.com/2011/02/chapter-1.html

The story will be written alternating the narrator between Him and Her. I did not write names for the main characters; thought secondary ones will be named. It will keep your mind open to the possibilities of each one, even when you discover who they “really” are.

Sometimes there will be missing parts in one part that you will find on the following post. I did that on purpose to add little cliffhangers along the story. Let me know if they are too confusing.

I may add, probably at the end, a part written in third person, but I’m not sure yet. Let see how the story flows.

I’ll be posting up to Chapter 2 today and, if I finish typing in time, also Chapter 3. Each chapter will be more or less 500 words. The style will strive in short sentences-paragraphs, to make it lighter.

This has not been "betaed" (hubby still refuses to read my stories), so I take full blame for spelling/grammatical errors.

Enjoy and feel free to review and comment.

Some Introductory Notes: http://betweenloveandreality.blogspot.com/2011/02/some-introductory-notes.html