I was told today that I am stabilizing. My weight and vitals are consistently improving and I no longer need to see a doctor on a weekly basis. He meant for this to be a good thing, and it is I guess, but in my head I'm having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I am no longer "that sick." It almost feels like I am losing a part of myself and it is terrifying.
I realize that it so incredibly stupid to be fearful of losing it. I want to recover, I want to get better- but I still have a major attachment to being ill. I think I associate being deep in my eating disorder with being a child and with having people care about me. I feel like, if I give it up, no one will care any more- however ridiculous that sounds. There is a part of my brain that is convinced that everyone will leave me if I'm healthy and no longer truly in need of them.
Hearing that I'm stabilizing sort of freaks me out. I know it doesn't mean that I'm suddenly cured, and every day is still a massive struggle, but it was terrifying to hear that I'm winning the fight and that my eating disorder is dying.
I know that I want it gone and that I'm ready to be healthy, but I don't know how to be healthy. I don't know what normal people do or think and I don't know how to be independent. Being told that I'm stabilizing implies that I am getting closer to being healthy and independent, and I honestly want to prolong that as long as possible because I feel so horribly unprepared and scared.
I know I should be happy and proud that all my hard work is paying off, but I'm truly not. I'm scared. And I don't know how to live without an eating disorder.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Something is Wrong with Me
Sometimes I feel like having an eating disorder is so silly. Everybody else seems to know how to eat, what to eat, and when to eat without ever being taught. They do it so effortlessly and without thinking, but for some reason I have to struggle with it every minute of the day. This often makes me feel like something is wrong with me because everybody else seems to be able to do something that I can't. I often feel stupid and weak and incapable for having an eating disorder. I'm always looking at other people and wondering- why is it so easy for them but not me?
I'm still struggling with feeling very alone in this. It was so different in treatment because everyone around me was battling the same thing so I never felt alienated, ashamed, or abnormal. Out of treatment, however, things are so much different. Nobody seems to be like me and I often feel that I am the only one in the entire world battling this disease.
It doesn't help that my dad is often frustrated with me for not being 100% better. He, along with everyone else, thinks that my problems are trivial and that I should have an easy time with food like other people. He doesn't understand and he often makes comments that make me feel weak and like a freak.
I'm really struggling to get by, and I never anticipated how incredibly difficult recovery would be. The general idea behind it is so simple: eat, keep the food down, don't berate yourself. I never expected the battle to be so hard and now I am paying for it. The eating disordered part of my head is still so strong and my own voice is still barely audible. I feel that that it could be a very long time before I beat this, and I'm still not sure that I have it in me to keep up the fight that long. All I want to do is wake up tomorrow and have it be gone.
I'm still struggling with feeling very alone in this. It was so different in treatment because everyone around me was battling the same thing so I never felt alienated, ashamed, or abnormal. Out of treatment, however, things are so much different. Nobody seems to be like me and I often feel that I am the only one in the entire world battling this disease.
It doesn't help that my dad is often frustrated with me for not being 100% better. He, along with everyone else, thinks that my problems are trivial and that I should have an easy time with food like other people. He doesn't understand and he often makes comments that make me feel weak and like a freak.
I'm really struggling to get by, and I never anticipated how incredibly difficult recovery would be. The general idea behind it is so simple: eat, keep the food down, don't berate yourself. I never expected the battle to be so hard and now I am paying for it. The eating disordered part of my head is still so strong and my own voice is still barely audible. I feel that that it could be a very long time before I beat this, and I'm still not sure that I have it in me to keep up the fight that long. All I want to do is wake up tomorrow and have it be gone.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
On Loneliness
I had to write this for my therapist:
I ignore the fact that I'm lonely because I've been lonely so long that I've given up and decided that there's nothing I can do about it. There are no people in my life to soothe the pain from it... so why should I let myself feel it? It's much less painful to just disown the feeling all together and pretend like I'm perfectly fine and content with solitude.
I've always felt that I just don't fit in with people and never will. It doesn't matter how badly I need people or want to be around people- I feel that it is a lost cause. I feel awkward and I feel that I lack the social abilities needed to get by in this world. It's been this way for so long that I now tell myself that I don't need anyone and that I'm much happier being alone. The truth is that while, yes, I like being alone, I wouldn't mind having some people in my life. I want a friend to giggle with and cry with and to give me a hug when things go awry. I want to come out of my shell and live for once, but there is no one there to help pull me out. They say that relationships are important in beating this disease, but I'm completely and totally alone in this thing called recovery.
I do feel that being lonely is weakness, though, and that's another reason that I don't let myself feel it. Loneliness is accepting the fact that you can't do things on your own and that you're dependent on someone else. I've always liked the idea of being totally self sufficient and being all that I need. I don't want to need anyone else because other people can let you down or hurt you- and everyone in my life always seems to leave. I also don't trust anyone and this makes me have a hard time forming relationships because I don't believe anyone when they say that they like me. I find myself so completely unlovable and unworthy of human contact that I believe anyone that says they like me is either lying or taking pity on me.
I think it would be better for me if I did accept the fact that I need people, but sometimes it's just too painful. Accepting the fact that I need people involves accepting the fact that I don't currently have any and it involves accepting the fact that nobody currently finds me interesting or lovable enough to be my friend. It also involves accepting the fact that I may be doing something wrong or that something might be wrong with me.
However, I realize that until I accept this fact, there will never be anyone in my life because I won't go out looking. Denying that I'm lonely only enables me to retreat deeper into myself and away from others. Deep down I am aware that I DO need others, but I've been getting by on my own so long that this is difficult to come to terms with. The fact of the matter is, though, that I've been JUST getting by. I need other people in my life in order to actually live.
I ignore the fact that I'm lonely because I've been lonely so long that I've given up and decided that there's nothing I can do about it. There are no people in my life to soothe the pain from it... so why should I let myself feel it? It's much less painful to just disown the feeling all together and pretend like I'm perfectly fine and content with solitude.
I've always felt that I just don't fit in with people and never will. It doesn't matter how badly I need people or want to be around people- I feel that it is a lost cause. I feel awkward and I feel that I lack the social abilities needed to get by in this world. It's been this way for so long that I now tell myself that I don't need anyone and that I'm much happier being alone. The truth is that while, yes, I like being alone, I wouldn't mind having some people in my life. I want a friend to giggle with and cry with and to give me a hug when things go awry. I want to come out of my shell and live for once, but there is no one there to help pull me out. They say that relationships are important in beating this disease, but I'm completely and totally alone in this thing called recovery.
I do feel that being lonely is weakness, though, and that's another reason that I don't let myself feel it. Loneliness is accepting the fact that you can't do things on your own and that you're dependent on someone else. I've always liked the idea of being totally self sufficient and being all that I need. I don't want to need anyone else because other people can let you down or hurt you- and everyone in my life always seems to leave. I also don't trust anyone and this makes me have a hard time forming relationships because I don't believe anyone when they say that they like me. I find myself so completely unlovable and unworthy of human contact that I believe anyone that says they like me is either lying or taking pity on me.
I think it would be better for me if I did accept the fact that I need people, but sometimes it's just too painful. Accepting the fact that I need people involves accepting the fact that I don't currently have any and it involves accepting the fact that nobody currently finds me interesting or lovable enough to be my friend. It also involves accepting the fact that I may be doing something wrong or that something might be wrong with me.
However, I realize that until I accept this fact, there will never be anyone in my life because I won't go out looking. Denying that I'm lonely only enables me to retreat deeper into myself and away from others. Deep down I am aware that I DO need others, but I've been getting by on my own so long that this is difficult to come to terms with. The fact of the matter is, though, that I've been JUST getting by. I need other people in my life in order to actually live.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Falling on my Face
Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one having so many slips. I feel like everyone else is doing so well in recovery and I'm falling flat on my face. Logically, I know this can't be true, but I still feel like I'm doing worse than everyone and I feel like I'm a complete failure for it. I keep taking one step forward and then 20 backwards and I feel like I just can't do this when everyone else can. I keep wondering- Is it normal to have so many slips? ...Or am I just weak and incapable of ever recovering from this disease?
I was talking to my therapist the other day and the word "recovery" came out of my mouth. The word felt so foreign and it almost felt like it didn't really apply. I think this is because I'm having a hard time accepting the fact that I AM in recovery despite the fact that I'm having such a difficult time of it. Sometimes I am struggling so badly that I completely forget that I'm supposed to be getting better and I convince myself that I'm still a full bulimic and that nothing has changed. I need to start accepting the fact that recovery isn't perfect- that there are going to be slips and it's okay. It doesn't mean that I've failed.
It's hard being the only one from MC in Montgomery, though. I keep wishing that I lived in Birmingham so that I could meet up with the other girls, talk to them, and not feel so completely alone in this all of the time. There's no EDA group available here so I never get to talk to anyone else like me. Being so isolated makes me wonder if I'm the only one struggling or if everyone else is battling similar problems. I have no one to talk to but my therapist.. and of course she would never tell me that I was abnormal.
I want this so badly, I really do. I'm mentally exhausted and my body is so tired of the constant abuse. But I just can't seem to do it, I keep falling again and again and again.
I was talking to my therapist the other day and the word "recovery" came out of my mouth. The word felt so foreign and it almost felt like it didn't really apply. I think this is because I'm having a hard time accepting the fact that I AM in recovery despite the fact that I'm having such a difficult time of it. Sometimes I am struggling so badly that I completely forget that I'm supposed to be getting better and I convince myself that I'm still a full bulimic and that nothing has changed. I need to start accepting the fact that recovery isn't perfect- that there are going to be slips and it's okay. It doesn't mean that I've failed.
It's hard being the only one from MC in Montgomery, though. I keep wishing that I lived in Birmingham so that I could meet up with the other girls, talk to them, and not feel so completely alone in this all of the time. There's no EDA group available here so I never get to talk to anyone else like me. Being so isolated makes me wonder if I'm the only one struggling or if everyone else is battling similar problems. I have no one to talk to but my therapist.. and of course she would never tell me that I was abnormal.
I want this so badly, I really do. I'm mentally exhausted and my body is so tired of the constant abuse. But I just can't seem to do it, I keep falling again and again and again.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Words Hurt
It's no secret that my dad is really insensitive and I'm majorly struggling with the things that he says to me at the moment. He never seems to realize that the things he says are triggering, insensitive, and rude, and I'm not assertive enough yet to tell him that he's really pushing me over the edge sometimes.
He really does not have very good people skills and he thinks that the things that he says are jokes, but they really do sting. Yesterday I was eating an apple for snack and he walked into the room, pointed at me, and "jokingly" told me that I was a pig. When I'm eating meals, he often walks in, peers over my shoulder at what I'm eating and then asks something along the lines of- "are you really going to eat all of that?"
I'm not sure how to deal with things like this because I feel like it should be so obvious not to say such things. If you daughter just got out of an eating disorder treatment center, how can you possibly think it is a good idea to make such comments while she's eating? How can you be so ignorant as to not realize that they're hurtful?
I've talked to my therapist about it and she told me that she's heard it herself when he's been in the room with her. Everything he says is always put so negatively and he doesn't even notice it. He's very overly critical and I almost feel like saying something to him would just be a lost cause.
My therapist asked my permission to speak to him about it but I told her that I thought it would be a bad idea. My dad is very uptight and unpredictable, and things often blow up when he's told that he's wrong. Last time she talked to him, he blew up and started bashing me and listing off all of the things that I had done wrong in my entire life.
I'm just not sure how to deal with it and it's really going to be a struggle to recover when comments like this are repeatedly made. I wish I had the confidence and assertiveness to tell him that he's saying hurtful things, but I don't and never have. I'm completely at a loss because this really shouldn't be an issue, anybody with common sense should know not to make comments like that to someone with an eating disorder.
He really does not have very good people skills and he thinks that the things that he says are jokes, but they really do sting. Yesterday I was eating an apple for snack and he walked into the room, pointed at me, and "jokingly" told me that I was a pig. When I'm eating meals, he often walks in, peers over my shoulder at what I'm eating and then asks something along the lines of- "are you really going to eat all of that?"
I'm not sure how to deal with things like this because I feel like it should be so obvious not to say such things. If you daughter just got out of an eating disorder treatment center, how can you possibly think it is a good idea to make such comments while she's eating? How can you be so ignorant as to not realize that they're hurtful?
I've talked to my therapist about it and she told me that she's heard it herself when he's been in the room with her. Everything he says is always put so negatively and he doesn't even notice it. He's very overly critical and I almost feel like saying something to him would just be a lost cause.
My therapist asked my permission to speak to him about it but I told her that I thought it would be a bad idea. My dad is very uptight and unpredictable, and things often blow up when he's told that he's wrong. Last time she talked to him, he blew up and started bashing me and listing off all of the things that I had done wrong in my entire life.
I'm just not sure how to deal with it and it's really going to be a struggle to recover when comments like this are repeatedly made. I wish I had the confidence and assertiveness to tell him that he's saying hurtful things, but I don't and never have. I'm completely at a loss because this really shouldn't be an issue, anybody with common sense should know not to make comments like that to someone with an eating disorder.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Something has Clicked
I've always had a hard time seeing myself as ill. It doesn't matter what happens to me, I am always able to convince myself that I'm really not 'that' sick. I've had a seizure, my teeth are quickly losing their enamel, my CBC always comes back out of whack- but somehow it is never enough to click in my head that I really do have a problem.
Logically, I know that I do. I know how out of control my bulimia gets. I know that throwing up 5 times a day is far from normal and I know that walking up a set of stairs shouldn't make you feel like you're about to faint. But it's just never enough.
I've always felt like, unless I visibly appear sick, I really don't have a problem. And for the past 2-3 years, I have looked fine on the outside.
But yesterday something clicked in my head and terrified me. I started picturing myself 30-40 years from now. If I keep this up- will I have teeth? Will my heart be okay? Will my bones be thin and brittle? This thought has absolutely terrified me. I may be okay at the moment, but how will I be when I get older? Am I going to have massive health consequences caused by all of the stuff I have done over the past 6 years? And is that really worth it?
Even though I am beyond terrified of getting older, I know that it is inevitable. And I want to be healthy and happy in those years. I don't want to do any more damage to my body now because I have to have this body forever.
I'm going to fight ten times harder. I made my meal plan for next week and plan to follow it 100% because I want to be feel good now and in the future. I have never felt as good as I did at MC and I've decided that I want that feeling back. I'm going to be healthy this week.
Logically, I know that I do. I know how out of control my bulimia gets. I know that throwing up 5 times a day is far from normal and I know that walking up a set of stairs shouldn't make you feel like you're about to faint. But it's just never enough.
I've always felt like, unless I visibly appear sick, I really don't have a problem. And for the past 2-3 years, I have looked fine on the outside.
But yesterday something clicked in my head and terrified me. I started picturing myself 30-40 years from now. If I keep this up- will I have teeth? Will my heart be okay? Will my bones be thin and brittle? This thought has absolutely terrified me. I may be okay at the moment, but how will I be when I get older? Am I going to have massive health consequences caused by all of the stuff I have done over the past 6 years? And is that really worth it?
Even though I am beyond terrified of getting older, I know that it is inevitable. And I want to be healthy and happy in those years. I don't want to do any more damage to my body now because I have to have this body forever.
I'm going to fight ten times harder. I made my meal plan for next week and plan to follow it 100% because I want to be feel good now and in the future. I have never felt as good as I did at MC and I've decided that I want that feeling back. I'm going to be healthy this week.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Medication
I'm not going to lie. I haven't been taking my medications over the past three days. Part of me doesn't trust that they're really doing anything and I want to see for myself if there is any difference with or without them. So far I haven't noticed any change in my mood or behavior and it's making me not want to go back.
I realize that's probably dangerous but I don't understand why I'm not seeing a difference when I'm not on them. I'm not any more depressed, I'm not sleeping different, my anxiety hasn't increased. I feel the exact same.
For the longest time, I've been skeptical about medication and I've refused to take it. It was only about 2 or 3 months ago that I finally admitted to myself that I truly did need to be on something. I was wary of it and convinced myself that it wasn't going to do anything, but it did.
Others started to notice that I had more energy and that my personality was starting to come out more instead of me being so dead all of the time. They said that they noticed a remarkable change, but now I wonder if it was really the medication or if I was getting better because I was at MC and therefore eating and being healthier.
I'm one of those people that needs to see things for myself because I have a hard time trusting things. I know that I should never have done this little experiment, but it truly is bothering me. My head is telling me that I'm taking all of this stuff for nothing and that I'm wasting money on it when I clearly don't need it. I'm really not sure what to believe.
I want to trust my treatment team because I think that's an important part of recovery, but it's another one of those concrete evidence things. If I don't feel any different without it, why am I taking all of it?
I don't know. I think I need to stop taking things into my own hands and just go along with what my treatment team says. This little experiment never should have happened and I should probably go back to taking the pills before something really bad happens. I'm just finding them hard to trust now and that's probably not for the best.
I realize that's probably dangerous but I don't understand why I'm not seeing a difference when I'm not on them. I'm not any more depressed, I'm not sleeping different, my anxiety hasn't increased. I feel the exact same.
For the longest time, I've been skeptical about medication and I've refused to take it. It was only about 2 or 3 months ago that I finally admitted to myself that I truly did need to be on something. I was wary of it and convinced myself that it wasn't going to do anything, but it did.
Others started to notice that I had more energy and that my personality was starting to come out more instead of me being so dead all of the time. They said that they noticed a remarkable change, but now I wonder if it was really the medication or if I was getting better because I was at MC and therefore eating and being healthier.
I'm one of those people that needs to see things for myself because I have a hard time trusting things. I know that I should never have done this little experiment, but it truly is bothering me. My head is telling me that I'm taking all of this stuff for nothing and that I'm wasting money on it when I clearly don't need it. I'm really not sure what to believe.
I want to trust my treatment team because I think that's an important part of recovery, but it's another one of those concrete evidence things. If I don't feel any different without it, why am I taking all of it?
I don't know. I think I need to stop taking things into my own hands and just go along with what my treatment team says. This little experiment never should have happened and I should probably go back to taking the pills before something really bad happens. I'm just finding them hard to trust now and that's probably not for the best.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
The Thin Convention Is In Town
A few weeks ago, my therapist had me read a bulimia self help book and there was a chapter in it that I really liked and that has stuck in my head. It talked about how sometimes it feels like the "thin convention" must be in town because everywhere you look are girls that are seemingly smaller than you.
And you know what? Yesterday was definitely one of those days. The thin people convention MUST have been in town because EVERYONE was thinner than me. Literally. Everyone.
I went to a baseball game with my dad and I was surrounded. I felt like a giant blob in a sea of tiny women and had a very difficult time focusing on the game because all I could think about was the fact that I was CLEARLY the biggest person attending the game.
Well okay, maybe I'm lying. I'm 99% sure that it was all in my head but it was still a major struggle to sit through the game and ignore the voice in my head that was telling me that I needed to restrict, binge, purge, exercise, and do everything possible to fix what I logically knew was an imaginary problem.
I understand that I have BDD. I logically know that what I see isn't the real me, but it's hard to fully comprehend that it's all in my head when I can SEE it in the mirror. How can I argue with something that I can visibly see? How can I not believe what my eyes are showing me every time I catch a glimpse of my reflection? How can I ignore such concrete evidence?
I'm really not sure.
I was told at MC that it would take a while to go away. I was told that it could take 8 months after the eating disorder subsided for body image to even begin to improve, but I really hate that it's the case. I think recovery would be so much easier if I didn't see a blob in the mirror. I think I'd be more comfortable with eating if I didn't see myself blimp up after every single meal and if the mirror didn't convince me that I could gain 20 pounds after eating a sandwich.
I truly hate that body image doesn't improve first off in the recovery process. I wish that I could look in the mirror tomorrow and just fully accept myself. I would never go back to my eating disorder if that were the case. Never.
And you know what? Yesterday was definitely one of those days. The thin people convention MUST have been in town because EVERYONE was thinner than me. Literally. Everyone.
I went to a baseball game with my dad and I was surrounded. I felt like a giant blob in a sea of tiny women and had a very difficult time focusing on the game because all I could think about was the fact that I was CLEARLY the biggest person attending the game.
Well okay, maybe I'm lying. I'm 99% sure that it was all in my head but it was still a major struggle to sit through the game and ignore the voice in my head that was telling me that I needed to restrict, binge, purge, exercise, and do everything possible to fix what I logically knew was an imaginary problem.
I understand that I have BDD. I logically know that what I see isn't the real me, but it's hard to fully comprehend that it's all in my head when I can SEE it in the mirror. How can I argue with something that I can visibly see? How can I not believe what my eyes are showing me every time I catch a glimpse of my reflection? How can I ignore such concrete evidence?
I'm really not sure.
I was told at MC that it would take a while to go away. I was told that it could take 8 months after the eating disorder subsided for body image to even begin to improve, but I really hate that it's the case. I think recovery would be so much easier if I didn't see a blob in the mirror. I think I'd be more comfortable with eating if I didn't see myself blimp up after every single meal and if the mirror didn't convince me that I could gain 20 pounds after eating a sandwich.
I truly hate that body image doesn't improve first off in the recovery process. I wish that I could look in the mirror tomorrow and just fully accept myself. I would never go back to my eating disorder if that were the case. Never.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
The Introvert Advantage
My therapist is having me read the book "The Introvert's Advantage" and it could possibly be one of the best books I've ever read. I've always been what you might call an extreme introvert. Everyone is always disappointed in how little I have to say and they ask over and over again- "Why are you so quiet?" The book finally makes me feel like a normal human being because it describes me so perfectly that I know I can't be the only one that feels so overwhelmed in this world.
One thing it talks about is the tendency of the mind to "blank" when forced to speak. This is something that I've always really struggled with. When put on the spot, my mind just completely stops and goes into "lockdown." It's not that I don't want to speak- I literally cannot. My mind becomes so completely empty that I can't even string a sentence together, and it is beyond humiliating sometimes.
I think people get frustrated with me a lot. At MC, I was always the quiet one that seemingly had nothing to say in group. Therapists would command me to "process", but my mind just doesn't work like that and never has. I'm an extreme introvert. I process my thoughts inside my own head and I have a hard time putting them into words, especially verbally. I always did a lot better when told to write my thoughts out first. That way I didn't have to come up with things to talk about on the spot and I could process them in my head beforehand and plan out what I was going to say.
It's a really fascinating book and I am absorbed and constantly thinking about it today. I feel like a normal human being for once and not the awkward freak that I normally feel like. Being shy and being introverted has always given me a very large sense of shame. I look at other, more outgoing, people and think- "Why am I not like that? What's wrong with me?"
Well for once I feel like maybe I'm not the only one like me and maybe there is hope for me in this world after all.
Oh. And I'm not a freak :)
One thing it talks about is the tendency of the mind to "blank" when forced to speak. This is something that I've always really struggled with. When put on the spot, my mind just completely stops and goes into "lockdown." It's not that I don't want to speak- I literally cannot. My mind becomes so completely empty that I can't even string a sentence together, and it is beyond humiliating sometimes.
I think people get frustrated with me a lot. At MC, I was always the quiet one that seemingly had nothing to say in group. Therapists would command me to "process", but my mind just doesn't work like that and never has. I'm an extreme introvert. I process my thoughts inside my own head and I have a hard time putting them into words, especially verbally. I always did a lot better when told to write my thoughts out first. That way I didn't have to come up with things to talk about on the spot and I could process them in my head beforehand and plan out what I was going to say.
It's a really fascinating book and I am absorbed and constantly thinking about it today. I feel like a normal human being for once and not the awkward freak that I normally feel like. Being shy and being introverted has always given me a very large sense of shame. I look at other, more outgoing, people and think- "Why am I not like that? What's wrong with me?"
Well for once I feel like maybe I'm not the only one like me and maybe there is hope for me in this world after all.
Oh. And I'm not a freak :)
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Stepping Out In The Dark
I got a bit of a wakeup call today when I went to see my therapist. I told her what I'd been doing the past few days and her response was- "Is recovery really your goal? Do you actually want to get better or not?"
The truth is that I don't know sometimes.
I want so badly to stop purging. I want to feel like an actual human being and not just a bulimic. I want to have a social life and I want to regain control of my life and I want to love myself.
But there is still part of me that feels like bulimia is my identity and it's so difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that getting rid of the eating disorder involves giving that identity up. For the past 6 years, I've been in a constant battle with either anorexia or bulimia and I don't know who I am without it. I don't know what I'd think about if I wasn't obsessing over food. I don't know what I'd feel or what I'd do or who I'd be.
Recovery is like stepping out into the dark and not knowing who you'll be when you get to the other side. It could be that something amazing awaits me or it could be that things are still going to be hell with or without the eating disorder.
Every time I tell someone this, they're always confused. They ask me- "What can be worse than being in an eating disorder?" and I never quite know the answer. Living in an eating disorder is absolute hell and I can't imagine anything worse, but I am still scared. I am scared of being an independent woman, of growing up, and of failure. I've proven beyond doubt that I can have an eating disorder, but I haven't had a chance yet to prove to myself that I can live on my own as a fully functional adult and I'm not sure that I can do it. I feel like I'll fall flat on my face if I even attempt it.
I am beyond scared at the moment. I feel like everyone is starting to turn their backs and give up on me. My therapists doubts that I'm really trying, but I honestly am. Every day is a battle, some days are an all out war. I know I'm making a lot of mistakes but I truly feel like I am giving it my all. I really do want to get better. I do. It's just terrifying sometimes. Beyond terrifying.
The truth is that I don't know sometimes.
I want so badly to stop purging. I want to feel like an actual human being and not just a bulimic. I want to have a social life and I want to regain control of my life and I want to love myself.
But there is still part of me that feels like bulimia is my identity and it's so difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that getting rid of the eating disorder involves giving that identity up. For the past 6 years, I've been in a constant battle with either anorexia or bulimia and I don't know who I am without it. I don't know what I'd think about if I wasn't obsessing over food. I don't know what I'd feel or what I'd do or who I'd be.
Recovery is like stepping out into the dark and not knowing who you'll be when you get to the other side. It could be that something amazing awaits me or it could be that things are still going to be hell with or without the eating disorder.
Every time I tell someone this, they're always confused. They ask me- "What can be worse than being in an eating disorder?" and I never quite know the answer. Living in an eating disorder is absolute hell and I can't imagine anything worse, but I am still scared. I am scared of being an independent woman, of growing up, and of failure. I've proven beyond doubt that I can have an eating disorder, but I haven't had a chance yet to prove to myself that I can live on my own as a fully functional adult and I'm not sure that I can do it. I feel like I'll fall flat on my face if I even attempt it.
I am beyond scared at the moment. I feel like everyone is starting to turn their backs and give up on me. My therapists doubts that I'm really trying, but I honestly am. Every day is a battle, some days are an all out war. I know I'm making a lot of mistakes but I truly feel like I am giving it my all. I really do want to get better. I do. It's just terrifying sometimes. Beyond terrifying.
Monday, June 21, 2010
The path to success is to take massive, determined action
My body image today is at its worst. I'm currently sitting here wearing my baggiest sweatpants and my baggiest shirt and I still feel like it's somehow not baggy enough. I'm not sure why it's so bad, but I just feel at an all time low.
I went for my 30 minute walk and couldn't focus on anything except for how my legs were jiggling with every step. I normally enjoy the exercise and the fresh air, but today was so much different. I just wanted to crawl out of my skin more and more with each passing second.
I did do a good deed, though, and I am quite proud of myself for it. I was walking through a nearby neighborhood and there was a lady in a wheelchair with an artificial leg struggling to get her trash can down to the curb. I stepped up and took it down for her and she thanked me and said I was so sweet for helping her. It sounds so silly but it made me feel like a good person for a few minutes. It reassured me that maybe I'm not 'that' bad after all.
Today I am determined to fight the eating disorder as much as I can. I feel like the past week has been a losing battle, but I don't want it to be that way any more. I need to tell the voice in my head to shut up and I need to take the control back that I seem to have lost. Today I am determined to make it through without purging or self harming. I'm going to fill out job applications and try to be productive instead of spending my entire day binging and purging and/or thinking about binging and purging. Today has started off rocky but I am going to make the best of it. I can't keep letting the eating disorder win.
I went for my 30 minute walk and couldn't focus on anything except for how my legs were jiggling with every step. I normally enjoy the exercise and the fresh air, but today was so much different. I just wanted to crawl out of my skin more and more with each passing second.
I did do a good deed, though, and I am quite proud of myself for it. I was walking through a nearby neighborhood and there was a lady in a wheelchair with an artificial leg struggling to get her trash can down to the curb. I stepped up and took it down for her and she thanked me and said I was so sweet for helping her. It sounds so silly but it made me feel like a good person for a few minutes. It reassured me that maybe I'm not 'that' bad after all.
Today I am determined to fight the eating disorder as much as I can. I feel like the past week has been a losing battle, but I don't want it to be that way any more. I need to tell the voice in my head to shut up and I need to take the control back that I seem to have lost. Today I am determined to make it through without purging or self harming. I'm going to fill out job applications and try to be productive instead of spending my entire day binging and purging and/or thinking about binging and purging. Today has started off rocky but I am going to make the best of it. I can't keep letting the eating disorder win.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Falling Down The Rabbit Hole
I can feel myself slipping and I don't like it. A week ago Dr. Olson told me that I was doing better. Now I'm not so sure. I'm having a hard time getting through a day without engaging in some kind of negative behavior. I keep telling myself to try harder but this is so much more difficult than anything that I could have imagined.
I don't think I expected recovery to be so hard when I took the first steps toward it a few months ago. There was still part of me that thought I could "just stop" if I wanted to badly enough, but it's becoming more and more obvious that I can't.
Every day is such a battle and I'm starting to get frustrated because I don't see myself making much progress. I feel like I should be further along than I am right now, and I feel like such a failure for being in this place. I can feel myself starting to get into a "fuck it" mindset where I convince myself that it's okay to do negative things because I've already done so much of it that "one more time won't matter."
I need to keep reminding myself that it does matter because it truly does. Each time I engage in these behaviors, it is a step back towards my old life and I never want to go back there.
I'm just struggling and I wish this wasn't so hard. I know that it takes a lot of work, and I'm going to keep fighting for sure, but boy do I wish that I could wake up tomorrow and have everything suddenly stop. Why can't it be that easy?
I don't think I expected recovery to be so hard when I took the first steps toward it a few months ago. There was still part of me that thought I could "just stop" if I wanted to badly enough, but it's becoming more and more obvious that I can't.
Every day is such a battle and I'm starting to get frustrated because I don't see myself making much progress. I feel like I should be further along than I am right now, and I feel like such a failure for being in this place. I can feel myself starting to get into a "fuck it" mindset where I convince myself that it's okay to do negative things because I've already done so much of it that "one more time won't matter."
I need to keep reminding myself that it does matter because it truly does. Each time I engage in these behaviors, it is a step back towards my old life and I never want to go back there.
I'm just struggling and I wish this wasn't so hard. I know that it takes a lot of work, and I'm going to keep fighting for sure, but boy do I wish that I could wake up tomorrow and have everything suddenly stop. Why can't it be that easy?
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