I feel like I'm at a crossroad in so many ways. I was sitting in bed reading (the fourth book I've read in the past three days) and thinking about how restless I am here on the farm. So cut off from my social life and the real world. Then I reflect on the fact that I have left my phone by the bed abandoned for two days when normally it's attached to me at all times. And then as I read all the Merry Christmas messages from friends and start thinking about not replying to any of them I realize how easily I can cut myself off from the same world I miss. I'm a constant contradiction. I miss the business and socializing of my 'normal' life yet love (and still hate?) being completely cut off and isolated from it.
I did respond to the messages though. I have such amazing friends who love me so much. I really am so incredibly lucky and blessed. I think I tend to want to avoid people right now because I know from experience that I am not a good actor and that they all know I'm not doing so great right now. And not just with the food stuff. My depression always kicks into high gear at this time of year. I'm that total cliche; depressed as all hell during winter and borderline manic in the summer. I hate knowing that people are worried about me. To be honest I'm arguably more self destructive when I'm semi manic, but everyone worries when the low sets in. That's my fault though and due to my trip to the ER two years ago. I can't blame them on that one.
It is tiring though. I just wish I were normal. So much that I can almost picture giving this all up. It's always this time of year when I start thinking about not going to therapy anymore. It just makes me feel so much more not normal having to rearrange my schedule to fit in all the appointments. And she's making me start seeing that dietician now so that's even more. I know that I need to keep going, but it's so tempting to just not. Just to stop and pretend that everything is okay.
I use to love Christmas. I use to love a lot of things that have lost meaning to me now. I feel hollow. That's the only way I can describe it. It's like I go through the motions most of the time with no feeling anymore. I let this whole holiday season go by without much enthusiasm. The only real glimpse at the excitement that use to glow from me (because I was all about the Christmas spirit once upon a time ago) was when I shopped and decorated for my students. Maybe if there were little kids in my family I could be a little bit of the me I use to be.
I was never that happy of a person. Looking back on my childhood, I remember many more days of sadness and despair than happiness. I also just assumed that some people were happy and some people weren't and I was part of the latter group. They say it's a chemical imbalance and I believe it because the meds do make it better. But the meds don't fix how numb I've become. I can't even put a finger on when I really stopped feeling much of anything about so many things I use to care about. Probably why I'm such a workaholic. I do care about my job and kids. I still have that. What happens if I stop feeling that too?
I can't wait until after New Years. I do still love that holiday. It's like a blank slate. There's nothing more beautiful than the promise of a fresh start.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Life Without ED
"You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all the time, and you can't remember what it was like before." - Marya Hornbacher
I can't remember what it's like to go through a day not thinking about food at all times. I can't remember what it's like to eat because I'm hungry and eat enough to feel full. To be okay with feeling full. I dream about food. I wake up thinking about food. I spend the entire day thinking about food. What will I allow myself to eat? Could I make it the entire day without eating? Could I make it two? Can I cancel my plans with friends so that I don't have to eat? If I eat, will I be able to purge? When will I be able to purge? I don't remember a time that food hasn't been such a complication.
I spent Thanksgiving alone this year. It use to be my favorite holiday which sounds funny. It makes a lot of sense though. A holiday completely surrounded around socially acceptable over eating. A time when everyone gives in and goes on a binge. Before the first purge when I was 16, it was my favorite holiday because it was the only day I allowed my self to splurge with food. I was incredibly restrictive from at least the age of 13 and so this day of truly eating a big meal was a big deal. I wouldn't eat the day before or two days after to make up for the amount I would eat with family. After 16 it was even more my favorite because I then could binge and immediately make up for it. I haven't liked Thanksgiving for about 3 years. When I decided I was really going to work on the bulimia I realized how horrible of a trigger it is for me. I still feel like I have to go for the social aspect, but now it's a holiday filled with anxiety.
This year my mom was out of town and my sister was at my dad's and since we are not on speaking terms no one expected me there. I successfully implied to all my friends that I was taking up someone else's offer of Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't actually lie to anyone, just didn't tell the whole truth and led them to the wrong conclusions. I wound up not doing a whole lot of anything my entire week off, including very little eating. Lost 5 pounds that week. It makes me sad though that my obsession has ruined a tradition I have loved since I was a kid.
My therapist asked me in my last session how things (specifically holidays) would be different if I didn't have my eating disorder. I couldn't answer. I didn't even know where to start. Granted she asks me a lot of questions I don't know how to answer. In truth I couldn't picture or put into words what my life would be without ED. I have lived with it for so long that I'm not sure I can live without it. Who am I with out my eating disorder? It's become so enmeshed with my personality and identity.
I can't remember what it's like to go through a day not thinking about food at all times. I can't remember what it's like to eat because I'm hungry and eat enough to feel full. To be okay with feeling full. I dream about food. I wake up thinking about food. I spend the entire day thinking about food. What will I allow myself to eat? Could I make it the entire day without eating? Could I make it two? Can I cancel my plans with friends so that I don't have to eat? If I eat, will I be able to purge? When will I be able to purge? I don't remember a time that food hasn't been such a complication.
I spent Thanksgiving alone this year. It use to be my favorite holiday which sounds funny. It makes a lot of sense though. A holiday completely surrounded around socially acceptable over eating. A time when everyone gives in and goes on a binge. Before the first purge when I was 16, it was my favorite holiday because it was the only day I allowed my self to splurge with food. I was incredibly restrictive from at least the age of 13 and so this day of truly eating a big meal was a big deal. I wouldn't eat the day before or two days after to make up for the amount I would eat with family. After 16 it was even more my favorite because I then could binge and immediately make up for it. I haven't liked Thanksgiving for about 3 years. When I decided I was really going to work on the bulimia I realized how horrible of a trigger it is for me. I still feel like I have to go for the social aspect, but now it's a holiday filled with anxiety.
This year my mom was out of town and my sister was at my dad's and since we are not on speaking terms no one expected me there. I successfully implied to all my friends that I was taking up someone else's offer of Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't actually lie to anyone, just didn't tell the whole truth and led them to the wrong conclusions. I wound up not doing a whole lot of anything my entire week off, including very little eating. Lost 5 pounds that week. It makes me sad though that my obsession has ruined a tradition I have loved since I was a kid.
My therapist asked me in my last session how things (specifically holidays) would be different if I didn't have my eating disorder. I couldn't answer. I didn't even know where to start. Granted she asks me a lot of questions I don't know how to answer. In truth I couldn't picture or put into words what my life would be without ED. I have lived with it for so long that I'm not sure I can live without it. Who am I with out my eating disorder? It's become so enmeshed with my personality and identity.
Friday, December 10, 2010
I'm at war with my body and I'm losing...
I was driving down a few towns tonight to hang out with C (the best friend). In traffic it takes about an hour to get here from my house. Lately I've been having a lot of anxiety before I see her because I know she's watching. I'm afraid she's trying to evaluate me and how I'm doing. It's a double edge sword because as I was getting dressed to come, it was quite the task choosing the right outfit for my night in with my best friend, I found myself scared that she would look at me and think I was losing weight and that I wasn't doing well. But I was also scared that she wouldn't be worried, which would mean I wasn't getting thinner, which in essence to me means I'm fat. I think that's the hardest part right now is that I don't want anyone to worry but I want to be thin enough to warrant worry. I hate thinking about what people would think if they knew I was ED... "She doesn't look like she has an eating disorder." The idea of it kills me.
I stress the most about C because she's the only friend who's ever cut me off because of my eating disorder and the only one I can't fool. It was two years ago when I relapsed after doing really well for quite a while. I've been EDNOS since about the age of 13. It's pretty much accepted by all psychological professionals that have worked with me that I've never been normal about food. So pretty much I'm a lifer. I don't think my psychologist or psychiatrist have much hope that I'll fully recover. I think they at most hope to help me get better and not get worse (currently my psychologist thinks my ED is getting out of control again). Almost three years ago I relapsed into severe anorexic behaviors with bulimia as a crutch. I went from about 130 to 95 in two months. I'm 5'0'' so 95 is actually within my normal/healthy weight range (though the lower end) and I did medically need to lose a little weight (though my methods are not well received). It was mainly the drastic change that messed everything up.
If I hadn't let myself get fat then things would have been different. I've always been best at hiding my restriction. But as it was, everyone close to me knew what was up. Really I was a mess, I admit it. I was in a severe depression cycle and binge drinking all the time and virtually not eating or sleeping. A perfect recipe for crazy. C felt backed into a corner and in her frustration and worry about not being able to help me (because I would need to want help for that to work) she decided that just going on business as usual was enabling me (thanks BA in psych). So she basically said get help or you're cut off. We didn't speak f0r like 3 months.
I don't think she ever expected me to choose the ED... I did. I probably always will. I'm better at putting up a front of recovering now though. I'm working on it. That's what I tell everyone and it keeps everyone off my back. I'm 105 now and was at 115 a few months ago. I really let myself plump again. Eyebrows are raised because the loss was noticed; every loss is noticed now. But no one can really say anything because I'm not actually under weight. And I am going to therapy.
I'm going to a lot of therapy, for me. I see my psychiatrist once every two months. I take my meds for migraines, depression, anxiety, and sleep like I'm directed and am learning how to express my feelings and to accept having feelings in the first place. The last appointment went badly. I lost ten pounds between sessions. She noticed. It was uncomfortable enough to send me researching the criteria to commit someone. I feel like she was evaluating me and considering it. I'm pretty sure I'd have to be like 80 pounds for a judge to rule in her favor though. I actually like her pretty well other than our rough last meeting. She's smart which is rare in this field. I can't tell you how many therapist I've had that I was not only in general significantly more intelligent but also specifically in the area of psychology and I only have my bachelors in Psych.
I see S twice a month. She's my psychologist and the first one I've ever actually liked. Well there was that one in college but she was a grad student and I probably liked her because we never talked about the ED. That wasn't because she was a bad therapist, but because I was having suicidal thoughts and that pretty much put all other issues to the side. S is good though. I'm very uncomfortable still even though she's good at her job. I hate going. I go because honestly it's the only thing that keeps everyone out of my hair. I'm not really going to get better. I hope one day I'll want to get better.
I can't put into words how I feel when I make it through the day without eating anything. It shouldn't make me feel this good but it does. And so it makes me feel like shit when I do eat. And then I purge which I hate, but it's the crutch I don't think I could ever let go of. I love anorexia and hate bulimia, but I could stop starving... I can't stop purging. I can't be full. It physically makes me uncomfortable. It's all I can think about until I get it out. I can't work, read, watch TV, carry on a conversation. All I can think about is how much I need to get rid of the food. I don't binge. Not by definition. To me any meal is a binge. I ate a hot dog from the cafeteria at lunch today because kids were in my room and I don't want them to see me not eat. I purged it a couple hours later at the first chance I had. It was too much. How pathetic is that? Teacher running to a bathroom to throw up a hot dog...
I hate the bulimia. I want it gone, but I really don't think I will ever get rid of it for good. And this fact makes me very sad. I could stop restricting, but I don't want to. I love it and I need it. I weigh 105 and it's too much. I need an inch off my arms, two at least off my waist, and like three off my hips/butt. At least down to 95. I think I could be happy at 95...
This is the other reason I was near an anxiety attack on my drive to C's. I was rehearsing in my head what I would say if/when she asked me how things were going. I thought I'd tell her therapy was still hard. That I was not looking forward to January's visit with the shrink after our last run in. And I was going to throw in the fact that S put her foot down and is insisting on a dietitian in January. She's been pushing it since June. Reading between the lines, I'm out of excuses with grad school being done next week and I don't think she'll keep seeing me long if I don't start going. This is actually a good pacifying fact for friends. It sent me into panic when I thought about the reality of going.
I can't see a dietitian. I'm not done losing weight. She'll make a meal plan and I can't follow it. I hate not following the rules and feeling like I'm failing. I'm setting myself up for failure. I don't want to go. But finding a new therapist sucks so much...
I stress the most about C because she's the only friend who's ever cut me off because of my eating disorder and the only one I can't fool. It was two years ago when I relapsed after doing really well for quite a while. I've been EDNOS since about the age of 13. It's pretty much accepted by all psychological professionals that have worked with me that I've never been normal about food. So pretty much I'm a lifer. I don't think my psychologist or psychiatrist have much hope that I'll fully recover. I think they at most hope to help me get better and not get worse (currently my psychologist thinks my ED is getting out of control again). Almost three years ago I relapsed into severe anorexic behaviors with bulimia as a crutch. I went from about 130 to 95 in two months. I'm 5'0'' so 95 is actually within my normal/healthy weight range (though the lower end) and I did medically need to lose a little weight (though my methods are not well received). It was mainly the drastic change that messed everything up.
If I hadn't let myself get fat then things would have been different. I've always been best at hiding my restriction. But as it was, everyone close to me knew what was up. Really I was a mess, I admit it. I was in a severe depression cycle and binge drinking all the time and virtually not eating or sleeping. A perfect recipe for crazy. C felt backed into a corner and in her frustration and worry about not being able to help me (because I would need to want help for that to work) she decided that just going on business as usual was enabling me (thanks BA in psych). So she basically said get help or you're cut off. We didn't speak f0r like 3 months.
I don't think she ever expected me to choose the ED... I did. I probably always will. I'm better at putting up a front of recovering now though. I'm working on it. That's what I tell everyone and it keeps everyone off my back. I'm 105 now and was at 115 a few months ago. I really let myself plump again. Eyebrows are raised because the loss was noticed; every loss is noticed now. But no one can really say anything because I'm not actually under weight. And I am going to therapy.
I'm going to a lot of therapy, for me. I see my psychiatrist once every two months. I take my meds for migraines, depression, anxiety, and sleep like I'm directed and am learning how to express my feelings and to accept having feelings in the first place. The last appointment went badly. I lost ten pounds between sessions. She noticed. It was uncomfortable enough to send me researching the criteria to commit someone. I feel like she was evaluating me and considering it. I'm pretty sure I'd have to be like 80 pounds for a judge to rule in her favor though. I actually like her pretty well other than our rough last meeting. She's smart which is rare in this field. I can't tell you how many therapist I've had that I was not only in general significantly more intelligent but also specifically in the area of psychology and I only have my bachelors in Psych.
I see S twice a month. She's my psychologist and the first one I've ever actually liked. Well there was that one in college but she was a grad student and I probably liked her because we never talked about the ED. That wasn't because she was a bad therapist, but because I was having suicidal thoughts and that pretty much put all other issues to the side. S is good though. I'm very uncomfortable still even though she's good at her job. I hate going. I go because honestly it's the only thing that keeps everyone out of my hair. I'm not really going to get better. I hope one day I'll want to get better.
I can't put into words how I feel when I make it through the day without eating anything. It shouldn't make me feel this good but it does. And so it makes me feel like shit when I do eat. And then I purge which I hate, but it's the crutch I don't think I could ever let go of. I love anorexia and hate bulimia, but I could stop starving... I can't stop purging. I can't be full. It physically makes me uncomfortable. It's all I can think about until I get it out. I can't work, read, watch TV, carry on a conversation. All I can think about is how much I need to get rid of the food. I don't binge. Not by definition. To me any meal is a binge. I ate a hot dog from the cafeteria at lunch today because kids were in my room and I don't want them to see me not eat. I purged it a couple hours later at the first chance I had. It was too much. How pathetic is that? Teacher running to a bathroom to throw up a hot dog...
I hate the bulimia. I want it gone, but I really don't think I will ever get rid of it for good. And this fact makes me very sad. I could stop restricting, but I don't want to. I love it and I need it. I weigh 105 and it's too much. I need an inch off my arms, two at least off my waist, and like three off my hips/butt. At least down to 95. I think I could be happy at 95...
This is the other reason I was near an anxiety attack on my drive to C's. I was rehearsing in my head what I would say if/when she asked me how things were going. I thought I'd tell her therapy was still hard. That I was not looking forward to January's visit with the shrink after our last run in. And I was going to throw in the fact that S put her foot down and is insisting on a dietitian in January. She's been pushing it since June. Reading between the lines, I'm out of excuses with grad school being done next week and I don't think she'll keep seeing me long if I don't start going. This is actually a good pacifying fact for friends. It sent me into panic when I thought about the reality of going.
I can't see a dietitian. I'm not done losing weight. She'll make a meal plan and I can't follow it. I hate not following the rules and feeling like I'm failing. I'm setting myself up for failure. I don't want to go. But finding a new therapist sucks so much...
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