I took Seroquil (anti-anxiety/sleeping pill) for the first time last night at 8PM. It knocked me right out. I woke up this morning to my alarm at 7AM after 11 hours of sleep! My side lamp was still on and I had a book in my hand so I must have just fallen asleep so quickly I didn't get a chance to turn the light off or close my book. It was a really creepy feeling being so sedated like that. Even after all that sleep I still felt groggy. My plan is to chemically stop b/p-ing by taking these sleeping pills. Nighttime is my "witching hour" and when I do most of my b/p-ing, so my theory is that if I take a pill, I will fall asleep therefore making it physically impossible for me to engage in such behaviors.
I must say, it worked last night! The other part of me says, that's CHEATING! That's not recovery, that's not taking a step in the right direction, it's just drugging yourself. I am really not sure if this is the right thing to do but I've tried to stop by my own willpower and it hasn't worked. The edema is going out of control. It feels like the skin around my feet is going to split. Something needs to change so maybe sleeping meds are my answer.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Compression Stockings
I truly feel like a freak now. I have a prescription for compression stockings. Compression stockings. I’m in my 20's!!! But oh god, edema is back so badly now and my shoe choices just dwindled as a result of it. There are only so many shoes you can wear with puffy feet! Boo :( However, despite the discomfort and ugliness of it all, it gives me some perverse comfort in knowing that I'm putting my body through hell, thus doing a "good job" at being eating disordered. A huge theme in my life is not feeling deserving and not feeling validated. The only way I have managed to feel some sort of worth is by being thin. Thinness also gives me leverage against my mother.
I hate (yes, hate, it's a strong word but it fits here) the burden of "living up to your potential". I have heard that phrase so many times and it makes me want to flush that potential right down the toilet. To those whom much is given, much is expected. Well, fuck, I never asked for any of this. In some ways I think I strip myself of my potential by having an eating disorder. I get people to stop expecting me to be able to achieve x y or z. When all they want is for you to live rather than die, life is a lot simpler.
I wonder how they put up with me at work. I was doing the "head nod" thing all afternoon where you start to fall asleep and end up catching yourself inches before your head hits the desk. These days it's more common than not that my supervisor asks me something and I for the life of me cannot remember. I've sent things via interoffice mail and not remembered where I've sent them until they find their way back to me with a confused sticky-note attached from the recipient. Physical illness doesn't scare me as much as losing my mind does, and I can see that happening now...
I hate (yes, hate, it's a strong word but it fits here) the burden of "living up to your potential". I have heard that phrase so many times and it makes me want to flush that potential right down the toilet. To those whom much is given, much is expected. Well, fuck, I never asked for any of this. In some ways I think I strip myself of my potential by having an eating disorder. I get people to stop expecting me to be able to achieve x y or z. When all they want is for you to live rather than die, life is a lot simpler.
I wonder how they put up with me at work. I was doing the "head nod" thing all afternoon where you start to fall asleep and end up catching yourself inches before your head hits the desk. These days it's more common than not that my supervisor asks me something and I for the life of me cannot remember. I've sent things via interoffice mail and not remembered where I've sent them until they find their way back to me with a confused sticky-note attached from the recipient. Physical illness doesn't scare me as much as losing my mind does, and I can see that happening now...
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Z's first soccer class
Today is my son's very first soccer class! It's at our local community centre for boys aged 3-5. Zach doesn't turn 3 until February 24th but I managed to get special permission for him to join. I guess that's ONE of the perks of working for the city :)
I hope he does OK, I mean, there will probably be a huge difference between his abilities and a 4 or 5 year old's abilities. I just don't want him to get discouraged. Oh gosh, listen to me, I sound like a concerned momma-hen, don't I? Hmm… that's one side of me that doesn't show itself very often. I try not to think about the terrible parent I am or rather, the terrible parent the ED causes me to be. I never have enough energy or patience to meet all of his demands. I often find myself counting down the hours until bedtime so that I can get a little rest myself. I hate myself for thinking like this. I just want him to know that I love him, even though sometimes I stare off into space or zone out or get upset a little too quickly because I'm irritable from low blood sugar.
I often wonder why I was made to be a parent. Why did God give me a child? There are so many people out there who desperately want children, who would be the most loving and patient parents and who would be there for their child in a way that I am not there for Zach. Where I fail, these others would succeed, but they are never given the chance. I don't want to mess up his life the way I've messed up my own. Looking at his face and into his dark, shimmery, trusting eyes should be enough to make me give all this crap up, but I can't. I'm trapped. He is too precious for me to fail him. I will never get these moments back, these tender moments where *I am his world*. Yet here I am, letting them slip away while I stare in a fog trying to drag my brain and body through the day. If I fail at my own life, that's OK… but if I fail Zachary, I will never be able to forgive myself.
I hope he does OK, I mean, there will probably be a huge difference between his abilities and a 4 or 5 year old's abilities. I just don't want him to get discouraged. Oh gosh, listen to me, I sound like a concerned momma-hen, don't I? Hmm… that's one side of me that doesn't show itself very often. I try not to think about the terrible parent I am or rather, the terrible parent the ED causes me to be. I never have enough energy or patience to meet all of his demands. I often find myself counting down the hours until bedtime so that I can get a little rest myself. I hate myself for thinking like this. I just want him to know that I love him, even though sometimes I stare off into space or zone out or get upset a little too quickly because I'm irritable from low blood sugar.
I often wonder why I was made to be a parent. Why did God give me a child? There are so many people out there who desperately want children, who would be the most loving and patient parents and who would be there for their child in a way that I am not there for Zach. Where I fail, these others would succeed, but they are never given the chance. I don't want to mess up his life the way I've messed up my own. Looking at his face and into his dark, shimmery, trusting eyes should be enough to make me give all this crap up, but I can't. I'm trapped. He is too precious for me to fail him. I will never get these moments back, these tender moments where *I am his world*. Yet here I am, letting them slip away while I stare in a fog trying to drag my brain and body through the day. If I fail at my own life, that's OK… but if I fail Zachary, I will never be able to forgive myself.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I "feel" Fat
I was supposed to see my therapist at 1pm but I got the times mixed up (that's happening more often now as my mind slowly deteriorates I guess). I thought our appointment was for 1:30 and by the time she called to check if I was coming it was too late for it to be worth rushing there for 15 minutes. We talked on the phone instead. I told her how fat I feel. She said the same thing as before, the usual therapist blabber about how "Fat is not a feeling, it's representing something else" etc. But really, truly, I physically feel fat. Maybe it's not that I FEEL fat then, maybe i just AM fat. Period.
My eating seems to have gone a bit haywire. I'm mainly only allowing myself to eat broccoli and zucchini again. I especially feel like shit after running into a girl I was in IP with. She was in the hospital again from December 28th until a week ago for a medical admission. Dammit, she got sicker/thinner than me. She's better than me. I haven't been re-admitted IP since being discharged, because I'm FAT FAT FAT!!! I'm doing so well in comparison, why should my tx team care about me. Everything always seems to go back to that same thing. Why should anyone care about me if not for being emaciated? I can never find reasons why I'm worth something beyond my thinness.
My eating seems to have gone a bit haywire. I'm mainly only allowing myself to eat broccoli and zucchini again. I especially feel like shit after running into a girl I was in IP with. She was in the hospital again from December 28th until a week ago for a medical admission. Dammit, she got sicker/thinner than me. She's better than me. I haven't been re-admitted IP since being discharged, because I'm FAT FAT FAT!!! I'm doing so well in comparison, why should my tx team care about me. Everything always seems to go back to that same thing. Why should anyone care about me if not for being emaciated? I can never find reasons why I'm worth something beyond my thinness.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Ugly
I am in a really ugly place right now.
I can hardly bear to look at myself in the mirror.
I am having a hard time keeping my appointments with my treatment team because I don't want them to see how disgusting I am. I have gained a little bit of weight, probably from reducing my purging and keeping a little bit more down. Edema is coming back so maybe it's some water weight too, but the number on the scale is all that matters, whether it's water or not, it went up and I feel like shit.
I feel like if they see me, they'll think I'm all recovered and don't need their help anymore since I've gained a bit. It feels like everything is spinning out of reach from me. I'm afraid they'll take my name off the IP waitlist even though I know I need to go in (even though I dread going back). Gotta get sicker to get better… my head's messed up.
I can hardly bear to look at myself in the mirror.
I am having a hard time keeping my appointments with my treatment team because I don't want them to see how disgusting I am. I have gained a little bit of weight, probably from reducing my purging and keeping a little bit more down. Edema is coming back so maybe it's some water weight too, but the number on the scale is all that matters, whether it's water or not, it went up and I feel like shit.
I feel like if they see me, they'll think I'm all recovered and don't need their help anymore since I've gained a bit. It feels like everything is spinning out of reach from me. I'm afraid they'll take my name off the IP waitlist even though I know I need to go in (even though I dread going back). Gotta get sicker to get better… my head's messed up.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Who am I really?
I just realized: I have no interests outside the eating disorder.
I have been logging into Plenty of Fish again out of curiosity (after taking a really long hiatus and avoiding relationships altogether). In my profile I wrote that I love cooking and baking and everything related. A guy messaged me asking me what my other interests are. I started to type my response then stopped because I couldn't think of any. Not a single one that didn't involve food in some way. (ie. reading cookbooks, shopping for cookware, browsing food blogs online, binging/purging or starving myself). At this point it became painfully apparent that I have not a clue who I am beyond an eating disorder.
I still don't know how to reply to the message. I feel like even when I want to reach out and connect with people, I'm stuck behind this wall. They'll think I'm strange when they see how I act around food. When they get to know me they'll all go away. I'm good attracting people but I fear that I'm not good at keeping them around.
I have been logging into Plenty of Fish again out of curiosity (after taking a really long hiatus and avoiding relationships altogether). In my profile I wrote that I love cooking and baking and everything related. A guy messaged me asking me what my other interests are. I started to type my response then stopped because I couldn't think of any. Not a single one that didn't involve food in some way. (ie. reading cookbooks, shopping for cookware, browsing food blogs online, binging/purging or starving myself). At this point it became painfully apparent that I have not a clue who I am beyond an eating disorder.
I still don't know how to reply to the message. I feel like even when I want to reach out and connect with people, I'm stuck behind this wall. They'll think I'm strange when they see how I act around food. When they get to know me they'll all go away. I'm good attracting people but I fear that I'm not good at keeping them around.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Brothers & Sister's Episode
A re-run of "Brothers and Sisters" made me cry. (Original air date Nov 8/09: "The Wig Party"). I don't normally watch that show but Calista Flockhart caught my eye because of the whole Anorexia - Ally McBeal thing back in 2000/01 (ish). Oh how I loved Ally McBeal. What a quirky show, dancing babies and all. It was so good then it got so bad then it died.
Anyways, on the show Calista's character was undergoing chemo and she was losing her hair, wearing a wig. The scene at the end showed her bf/husband telling her that he loved her for so much more than her looks, that all he wanted was her- the person she is, apperances aside. Clichéd stuff but it really got to me. I want someone to say that to me. I want someone to love me unconditionally and for me to be able to accept and feel it.
Anyways, on the show Calista's character was undergoing chemo and she was losing her hair, wearing a wig. The scene at the end showed her bf/husband telling her that he loved her for so much more than her looks, that all he wanted was her- the person she is, apperances aside. Clichéd stuff but it really got to me. I want someone to say that to me. I want someone to love me unconditionally and for me to be able to accept and feel it.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Pathetic
Crap. I threw up a dinner of lettuce and mushrooms. No dressing, no nothing. It woudn't sit in my stomach properly as much as I wanted it to. It had to come up. Pathetic.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Normal Eaters
You'll probably think I'm a weirdo after reading this. Sometimes I catch myself looking at people in awe as they eat without thinking twice about it. In restaurants, at Starbucks, at work, I wonder how they do it. How can someone put something in their mouth, chew and swallow (and not want to throw it up) without worrying. Secretly, I envy those people. Even when I was really shaky and sick one day at work, I couldn't bring myself to eat a cracker. I tried so hard. I put it in my mouth, almost got to the point of swallowing but then spat it out.
Something so simple and basic human nature as food is such a battle for me. But then the ED part of me counters the argument by saying, "Those people are over weight or a normal weight and you have to be BETTER than them. You cannot let yourself be a normal weight and if you eat normally you will disappear (figuratively) because the only thing you're good at is starving yourself. You won't have an identity without an ED."
Right now at work someone just heated up some curry dish and the smell is driving me crazy. I think I want to be free but I cannot fathom my life any differently from the way it's been the past 15 years. Any time I have been a little closer to recovery, the physical fatness discomfort plagued me. I could never rid myself of that voice even when I was almost a normal weight... My mind was not normal.
Something so simple and basic human nature as food is such a battle for me. But then the ED part of me counters the argument by saying, "Those people are over weight or a normal weight and you have to be BETTER than them. You cannot let yourself be a normal weight and if you eat normally you will disappear (figuratively) because the only thing you're good at is starving yourself. You won't have an identity without an ED."
Right now at work someone just heated up some curry dish and the smell is driving me crazy. I think I want to be free but I cannot fathom my life any differently from the way it's been the past 15 years. Any time I have been a little closer to recovery, the physical fatness discomfort plagued me. I could never rid myself of that voice even when I was almost a normal weight... My mind was not normal.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Feeling Old
I am in so much physical discomfort every day. My stomach is churning right now and I feel like throwing up even though I have eaten nothing yet today. I can feel the stomach acid burning inside me as the minutes pass ultra-slowly here at work. 1 hour and 45 minutes to go until I can leave.
My head is a mess. I can't even remember things from 2 days ago. Account names and numbers are floating in and out of my head like they are skating on ice. I have taken to writing everything down - each and every little thing - because I don't trust my mind.
I feel like throwing up. The sick kind of throwing up, not the bulimic kind.
It's starting to scare me how I'm not a kid or even a young adult anymore. I don't get ID'd anymore when I buy smokes. I see the hollows under my cheeks and the bags under my eyes from late nights and abusing my body. I am 25 now. I first saw an ED doctor when I was 10. Pathetic. You could round my age up to 30 and sure enough, 30 will happen before I know it.
I have been (reluctantly) reading "Life without Ed" by Jenni Schaefer. Highly reccommended by my treatment team (and after borrowing it from my therapist, now I see why). Initially I really didn't want to read it because: 1) It's so hard to concentrate on reading anything at all without falling asleep 2) I don't really want to read about recovery when I'm still so ambivalent about my own recovery 3) Admit it, the title is silly. However, it is a pretty good book. No long, wordy chapters. The writing is easy to follow and in short little chapters/segments.
My mom blew up at me on New Year's Eve. She gave me an ultimatum that if I don't stop throwing up I have to move out. She doesn't see how hard I've been trying to stop. She said, "In the hospital you weren't throwing up, so why are you throwing up now?" Well, in the hospital it was impossible to throw up. They watch you 24/7 and plus they give you support to help you SUCCEED and NOT PURGE. At home there is no such thing. I wish she didn't think recovery was like a switch you can flick off the moment you decide to. I often get the feeling she takes this all really lightly and doesn't see that it's a serious disorder rather than a flippant choice. I'm contemplating having her come with me to see my therapist to get a better understanding, but I'm afraid of the 2 of them meeting because it might open up a whole can of worms by me combining those two very separate worlds - my mom and my therapist.
My head is a mess. I can't even remember things from 2 days ago. Account names and numbers are floating in and out of my head like they are skating on ice. I have taken to writing everything down - each and every little thing - because I don't trust my mind.
I feel like throwing up. The sick kind of throwing up, not the bulimic kind.
It's starting to scare me how I'm not a kid or even a young adult anymore. I don't get ID'd anymore when I buy smokes. I see the hollows under my cheeks and the bags under my eyes from late nights and abusing my body. I am 25 now. I first saw an ED doctor when I was 10. Pathetic. You could round my age up to 30 and sure enough, 30 will happen before I know it.
I have been (reluctantly) reading "Life without Ed" by Jenni Schaefer. Highly reccommended by my treatment team (and after borrowing it from my therapist, now I see why). Initially I really didn't want to read it because: 1) It's so hard to concentrate on reading anything at all without falling asleep 2) I don't really want to read about recovery when I'm still so ambivalent about my own recovery 3) Admit it, the title is silly. However, it is a pretty good book. No long, wordy chapters. The writing is easy to follow and in short little chapters/segments.
My mom blew up at me on New Year's Eve. She gave me an ultimatum that if I don't stop throwing up I have to move out. She doesn't see how hard I've been trying to stop. She said, "In the hospital you weren't throwing up, so why are you throwing up now?" Well, in the hospital it was impossible to throw up. They watch you 24/7 and plus they give you support to help you SUCCEED and NOT PURGE. At home there is no such thing. I wish she didn't think recovery was like a switch you can flick off the moment you decide to. I often get the feeling she takes this all really lightly and doesn't see that it's a serious disorder rather than a flippant choice. I'm contemplating having her come with me to see my therapist to get a better understanding, but I'm afraid of the 2 of them meeting because it might open up a whole can of worms by me combining those two very separate worlds - my mom and my therapist.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Copy of TF update
This is a copy of my TF post, so if you are a TF-er, disregard this :)
I realized why it's been so difficult for me to come here and update and to update at TF. It's because i feel like i was a failure at IP. I wanted so much to stop purging even if I didn't stop restricting, but the day I got out, I b/p'd.
I couldn't believe it. I was so set on stopping that part of the ED and I really thought I would be able to, but no, it hasn't stopped. It has gotten a little bit better (ie. once a day instead of 5x/day), so at least that is a positive thing, right?
I've been going to support groups weekly, doing out patient tube feeding (just to keep me out of IP, but I think this whole idea of OP tube feeds is really stupid), seeing 2 therapists weekly, doctors, constant bloodwork monitoring. Seriously, these appointments and groups could be a full time job.
I think I might be looking at another IP stay soon, but I'm trying hard not to. I have been feeling more hopeless and in some ways feeling like IP messed me up more than I was before. I feel like maybe recovery is not possible at all and I will just have to find some way of balancing between not getting too sick to function but not recovering either because I am not ready to recover obviously. The weight gain freaked me right out and I am back to pre-IP weight but somehow my electrolytes are still passable so I can stay out of the hospital. I also don't have edema!!! <-- a HUGE sigh of relief here.
Thank you everyone for caring and being so sweet to me and thinking of me. I totally need those positive vibes. I am going to try and update more and post on TF more but it's tough when I feel like such a failure.
I realized why it's been so difficult for me to come here and update and to update at TF. It's because i feel like i was a failure at IP. I wanted so much to stop purging even if I didn't stop restricting, but the day I got out, I b/p'd.
I couldn't believe it. I was so set on stopping that part of the ED and I really thought I would be able to, but no, it hasn't stopped. It has gotten a little bit better (ie. once a day instead of 5x/day), so at least that is a positive thing, right?
I've been going to support groups weekly, doing out patient tube feeding (just to keep me out of IP, but I think this whole idea of OP tube feeds is really stupid), seeing 2 therapists weekly, doctors, constant bloodwork monitoring. Seriously, these appointments and groups could be a full time job.
I think I might be looking at another IP stay soon, but I'm trying hard not to. I have been feeling more hopeless and in some ways feeling like IP messed me up more than I was before. I feel like maybe recovery is not possible at all and I will just have to find some way of balancing between not getting too sick to function but not recovering either because I am not ready to recover obviously. The weight gain freaked me right out and I am back to pre-IP weight but somehow my electrolytes are still passable so I can stay out of the hospital. I also don't have edema!!! <-- a HUGE sigh of relief here.
Thank you everyone for caring and being so sweet to me and thinking of me. I totally need those positive vibes. I am going to try and update more and post on TF more but it's tough when I feel like such a failure.
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