But then there's always that other hand and it winds up slapping me in the face.
Things were going well for a while. The eating disordered thought had significantly decreased. I was acting less on impulse and emotion. I was actually taking note of my emotions and doing something constructive with them. And then -- I met with the nutritionist.
Maybe if I didn't have an eating disorder, I wouldn't have received the things she said the way I did. And I hold nothing against the woman, as she clearly knows what she's doing as a nutritionist for women with PCOS, and she is working with my outpatient team to make sure everyone's on the same page -- but she pissed me off.
Changing exchanges and saying that I don't need to drink juice but if I do to add water to it. First thought -- well, that's disordered. That's something we were forbidden to do at the residential program. And fruits and juices were encouraged! Milk and yogurt are clearly a dairy and can be exchanged as a protein. But not in her book -- it counts it as a carbohydrate. And that means -- according to this new deal she's got me working with here -- that I've been going days and days without protein (thinking I was getting sufficient amounts from soy milk and yogurt) only to find out that protein and fats are my friends and that I need to limit the starches even more.
Yeah. Angry.
But mainly sad because it brought back old memories -- bad ones -- of my father telling me not to eat this because I didn't need it, or not to eat that because of my weight. And she couldn't have known that so I don't fault the lady at all, it's just, I think had she been a bit more mindful that I'm an ed patient first and pcos patient second, that maybe things would have been different. I left her office resolved to do better as far as my eating habits go, but just a few days afterward the feelings I had surfaced in my old behaviors because I didn't deal with them as they came up. Funny how that happens.
I started skipping more meals and I hadn't felt guilty about just plain old eating in a really long time and then that came up when I felt like I had something that I shouldn't have had (because of the conversation with the nutritionist). And that guilt resulted in a purge.
First one in a really long time. Dare I say a month? Hmmm. It saddens me that all the hard work can vanish so quickly. That I can be in the exact same hole I was in two months ago and desperately clinging to the eating disordered thoughts against all reason. Dixie and I talked a bit today about why I continue to choose to believe in the eating disorder despite everything I've learned and I had no answer.
I just know that I do. I wish she understood that although I appreciate the past year and a half and I know that it's saved my life, that some mornings I wake up and absolutely hate my body. I hate it. I hate myself because I blame all my failings on this one thing and it's hard to live with that. It's hard to know that I could do something about it (like skipping a meal here or there) because it just makes me feel better to know that I'm not making things worse (even though I know I am). Being in recovery with an eating disorder is like living in a world full of paradoxes. I know the truth and yet I don't live it. I try and yet if I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror during a bad moment in my day -- logic is tossed to the wind. Dixie said I lose all cognitive function when I'm in my body loathing moments. Maybe. But I want her to understand that it breaks my heart too when I slip up. I'm just as frustrated and disappointed in myself as she is. I just also feel, for lack of a better word...better, better about my body, better about myself, better about my life if I'm empty inside. Even if it's only for a moment and it never lasts, because it never does.
I wish I had someone to talk to who doesn't think I'm choosing to continue along with an eating disorder. I wish I wasn't always playing defense.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Whoever said life was fair?
That's the way the pendulum swings, right? Back and forth? Well, it's been a R-O-U-G-H week, brought on by the fact that I weighed myself two Saturdays ago and it's just been a nightmare of restricting and dreaming about binges ever since then. Finally, I gave in to my eating disorder. I drove to the grocery store, bought binge food, and didn't even wait until I returned home to start the binge.
But you know what felt different about it this time? I didn't feel the need to purge. I mean -- sure I wanted to purge the entire cake I'd eaten in less than half an hour -- but there was no urgency. I didn't feel completely full or bloated. It didn't even FEEL like a binge. It just felt wrong. I did not feel out of control. I just felt disappointed in myself. And even with that disappointment I decided, "I'm not purging. I don't need to purge. And I'm still going to have dinner."
And that felt strange. The declaration that I would do the next best thing which meant eating whilst not even being hungry (which is always the case) but eating on a full stomach feels so contrary to everything I've known to be true. So I kept dinner light, but I still pressed on and this morning when I woke up I hadn't planned on having breakfast but then my therapist from residential called and there was something she said to convince me to have breakfast. Something about how it'd make me less jittery during my interview this afternoon.
All the while I was thinking, "This isn't fair! My life isn't fair. I shouldn't have PCOS. I shouldn't be fat. I shouldn't have an eating disorder." Then, I remembered something the dbt therapist said to me about two weeks ago:
"Where'd you ever get the idea that life is fair? People think it should be fair and then they're in for a rude awakening when they realize it's not. Who ever said it was supposed to be fair. It's not fair that you have this new diagnosis. It's not fair that the one other bulimic in the group is underweight and you're overweight. The two of you have the exact same symptom use and it shows up in different ways on your bodies. No, Erin, that's not fair. That's why you can't think about it in those terms of fair and unfair. The reality is that you have a diagnosis that makes it extremely difficult for you to lose weight and you engage in behaviors that cause your weight to fluctuate. Those are the facts -- and none of it is fair. But someone can look at your life and say it's not fair that she graduated from such and such college and had a shot at law school. Someone can always look at someone and compare their lives and see the injustice of a situation, but it doesn't do anyone any good to compare. The only thing you can do is accept that life isn't fair and keep in mind that no one ever promised you that it would be."
I think remembering her speech today has motivated me to go to group tomorrow. I skipped the last week's meeting because I was hanging out with friends but I need that group. I also need daily and weekly reminders that this isn't fair. And now what?
And now what? Well, now I get ready for my interview, wow them with my charming personality and competency, eat lunch, and continue on with my day, keeping in mind that there will be bad days and good days but that the power of turning a bad day into a good day always rests with the decisions I make.
But you know what felt different about it this time? I didn't feel the need to purge. I mean -- sure I wanted to purge the entire cake I'd eaten in less than half an hour -- but there was no urgency. I didn't feel completely full or bloated. It didn't even FEEL like a binge. It just felt wrong. I did not feel out of control. I just felt disappointed in myself. And even with that disappointment I decided, "I'm not purging. I don't need to purge. And I'm still going to have dinner."
And that felt strange. The declaration that I would do the next best thing which meant eating whilst not even being hungry (which is always the case) but eating on a full stomach feels so contrary to everything I've known to be true. So I kept dinner light, but I still pressed on and this morning when I woke up I hadn't planned on having breakfast but then my therapist from residential called and there was something she said to convince me to have breakfast. Something about how it'd make me less jittery during my interview this afternoon.
All the while I was thinking, "This isn't fair! My life isn't fair. I shouldn't have PCOS. I shouldn't be fat. I shouldn't have an eating disorder." Then, I remembered something the dbt therapist said to me about two weeks ago:
"Where'd you ever get the idea that life is fair? People think it should be fair and then they're in for a rude awakening when they realize it's not. Who ever said it was supposed to be fair. It's not fair that you have this new diagnosis. It's not fair that the one other bulimic in the group is underweight and you're overweight. The two of you have the exact same symptom use and it shows up in different ways on your bodies. No, Erin, that's not fair. That's why you can't think about it in those terms of fair and unfair. The reality is that you have a diagnosis that makes it extremely difficult for you to lose weight and you engage in behaviors that cause your weight to fluctuate. Those are the facts -- and none of it is fair. But someone can look at your life and say it's not fair that she graduated from such and such college and had a shot at law school. Someone can always look at someone and compare their lives and see the injustice of a situation, but it doesn't do anyone any good to compare. The only thing you can do is accept that life isn't fair and keep in mind that no one ever promised you that it would be."
I think remembering her speech today has motivated me to go to group tomorrow. I skipped the last week's meeting because I was hanging out with friends but I need that group. I also need daily and weekly reminders that this isn't fair. And now what?
And now what? Well, now I get ready for my interview, wow them with my charming personality and competency, eat lunch, and continue on with my day, keeping in mind that there will be bad days and good days but that the power of turning a bad day into a good day always rests with the decisions I make.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
a digression
This is totally not related to eating disorders at all, but...
Don't you hate when there are songs that you once loved with another person and now it hurts to here them.
Here's my list:
Where Did My Baby Go - John Legend
Beauty - Dru Hill
Goodbye to My Lover - James Blunt
Lost Without You - Robin Thicke
Unbreakable - Alicia Keys
If I Was Your Woman - Alicia Keys
Stingy - Ginuwine
Oh there are many many many more...but I'll stop here.
It's like the song is tainted now by this other person and there's nothing you can do about it. Because I still love these songs -- but I'm completely caught off guard when I hear them (even though they're all on my itunes) and it drives me crazy because I want to call up the person and just talk. And I can't do that.
These are all love songs, duh, (as most songs are) but I don't think of past lovers. I think of BEST. Someone who introduced me to James Blunt and Robin Thicke and got me to love the song, Stingy. And when I hear Beauty, I can still hear her belting it out at the top of her lungs. There's so many memories we have around music...more than anything else I suppose.
I wrote her from the residential program. I hate ending relationships. I hate when something is over.
Don't you hate when there are songs that you once loved with another person and now it hurts to here them.
Here's my list:
Where Did My Baby Go - John Legend
Beauty - Dru Hill
Goodbye to My Lover - James Blunt
Lost Without You - Robin Thicke
Unbreakable - Alicia Keys
If I Was Your Woman - Alicia Keys
Stingy - Ginuwine
Oh there are many many many more...but I'll stop here.
It's like the song is tainted now by this other person and there's nothing you can do about it. Because I still love these songs -- but I'm completely caught off guard when I hear them (even though they're all on my itunes) and it drives me crazy because I want to call up the person and just talk. And I can't do that.
These are all love songs, duh, (as most songs are) but I don't think of past lovers. I think of BEST. Someone who introduced me to James Blunt and Robin Thicke and got me to love the song, Stingy. And when I hear Beauty, I can still hear her belting it out at the top of her lungs. There's so many memories we have around music...more than anything else I suppose.
I wrote her from the residential program. I hate ending relationships. I hate when something is over.
Even in my dreams
It feels like I can't escape the eating disorder even in my dreams. Or rather, shall I say it was a nightmare. I gorged myself on pizza and cookies, cake, and alcohol. And for some strange reason, a roast beef sandwich that I actually fought a friend over. And I'm not even a roast beef kind of girl. The problem is that it just felt so incredibly real and that it felt so incredibly good to indulge myself. I'm not even sure what the word is past indulgence. But that's what it was.
Then suddenly, I was hoarding the food, bagels and donuts and it was such a ridiculous amount of food but I wanted it all. I wanted it all. Family members were around. I specifically remembers my maternal aunts and uncles all being there and seeing the binge and just being shocked that I actually do have a problem and that it was a bigger deal than they had thought.
But I suppose this is the worst of my problems. I'm not binging. I am eating regularly. I haven't skipped a meal since Memorial Day and I haven't binged and purged since last Thursday. I'm eating regularly and it's a struggle. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm doing it and this life is much better than the one with an eating disorder, but it's exhausting. It's frustrating to force myself to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner when I still don't have hunger cues. It scares the shit out of me because I'm afraid that since I'm eating just because that it'll turn into a binge because my satiety cues aren't working either. It just feels like any moment that I eat something when I don't feel physical hunger could end up in a binge because I don't know when to stop until I'm absolutely stuffed. But on the other hand, I'd probably be really overwhelmed with anxiety if I started to get hunger cues.
I just hate that my eating disorder is now attacking me in my dreams -- and there's no way to combat that. Just time, I suppose.
Then suddenly, I was hoarding the food, bagels and donuts and it was such a ridiculous amount of food but I wanted it all. I wanted it all. Family members were around. I specifically remembers my maternal aunts and uncles all being there and seeing the binge and just being shocked that I actually do have a problem and that it was a bigger deal than they had thought.
But I suppose this is the worst of my problems. I'm not binging. I am eating regularly. I haven't skipped a meal since Memorial Day and I haven't binged and purged since last Thursday. I'm eating regularly and it's a struggle. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm doing it and this life is much better than the one with an eating disorder, but it's exhausting. It's frustrating to force myself to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner when I still don't have hunger cues. It scares the shit out of me because I'm afraid that since I'm eating just because that it'll turn into a binge because my satiety cues aren't working either. It just feels like any moment that I eat something when I don't feel physical hunger could end up in a binge because I don't know when to stop until I'm absolutely stuffed. But on the other hand, I'd probably be really overwhelmed with anxiety if I started to get hunger cues.
I just hate that my eating disorder is now attacking me in my dreams -- and there's no way to combat that. Just time, I suppose.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I'm stressed out to the point of tears
It seems every time my mother phones (and it's getting to be everyday these days) it's always about how much money I owe her. A student loan payment is due or a car payment or phone bill or
I just want to scream, "LEAVE ME ALONE! I CAN'T HANDLE THIS! YOU'RE FREAKING ME OUT!"
And she doesn't mean to I know. I mean she's not intentionally calling with such reportings because she's evil, rather she's inundated with medical bills (opps I forgot that one) and lab bills (for $2000) and wants to know when I'm going to contribute something. Anything.
And it makes me feel like I'm so incompetent. Like how I can't take care of myself or my own finances. Like I'm a failure. And it is NOT good for my anxiety. It's not even a cop out when I say to her, "Mother, you can't begin each conversation with topics of money" because it literally sends me into panic mode. My chest tightens and I start shaking and it's hard to breathe and I feel guilty about even being in therapy and continuing to rack up the medical bills.
And there's no better way to get rid of those feelings than to binge and she just doesn't understand that. Like I'm physically shaking right now because I'm so rattled and I can't binge because I'm sitting for the twins and there's no food in the house anyway and I'm just trying not to do that. So for the love of God, Mother, if by some divine chance you ever read my blog, please, please stop. I can't deal with making it through three meals a day, with keeping myself alive, when I'm constantly reminded that what I'm doing just doesn't cut it.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I suck at life.
I just want to scream, "LEAVE ME ALONE! I CAN'T HANDLE THIS! YOU'RE FREAKING ME OUT!"
And she doesn't mean to I know. I mean she's not intentionally calling with such reportings because she's evil, rather she's inundated with medical bills (opps I forgot that one) and lab bills (for $2000) and wants to know when I'm going to contribute something. Anything.
And it makes me feel like I'm so incompetent. Like how I can't take care of myself or my own finances. Like I'm a failure. And it is NOT good for my anxiety. It's not even a cop out when I say to her, "Mother, you can't begin each conversation with topics of money" because it literally sends me into panic mode. My chest tightens and I start shaking and it's hard to breathe and I feel guilty about even being in therapy and continuing to rack up the medical bills.
And there's no better way to get rid of those feelings than to binge and she just doesn't understand that. Like I'm physically shaking right now because I'm so rattled and I can't binge because I'm sitting for the twins and there's no food in the house anyway and I'm just trying not to do that. So for the love of God, Mother, if by some divine chance you ever read my blog, please, please stop. I can't deal with making it through three meals a day, with keeping myself alive, when I'm constantly reminded that what I'm doing just doesn't cut it.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I suck at life.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
First fall forward, dust oneself off, get back up again.
So I've decided for myself that recovery is linear. I know, I know. It was a real comfort to know that it's absolutely human to fall and fall back. But at this point, recovery keeps moving forward. If I fall, I fall down into a valley. I fall forward, flat onto my face (and my ego). But I'm not taking steps back. I'm not playing that two steps forward, one step backward game with my recovery anymore.
My first official face slam into the pavement occurred around 7 pm. I binged. And I purged. At the house with my 2 year old and 7 year old nephew around although thankfully they were napping during most of the incident. Thank God. Because there's really no explanation for why Titi has vomit in her hair.
Gross. I know.
And how did I end up binging and purging you ask after having such a fantastic run after leaving the Carolina House? Oh...because I decided that I was too fat today to eat meals so I skipped breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Uh huh. And I reasoned with myself that should the urge to binge occur, that I've had enough therapy over the past year and a half to coach myself through the binge and act opposite to the emotion.
There's where my ego was bruised. Silly me. I have an eating disorder. Sometimes I forget what that entails. Like, yeah, I'm going to wake up and feel fat, but I still can't skip a meal. And yeah, on that same day, I might actually feel physically sick to my stomach because of my prescription cocktail, but still, there are no sick days.
Have I learned my lesson? Hmm...I know it was a reality check of how far I've come and how far I still have to go on this journey. I do not like the person I am when I'm disordered. Not when I binge. Not when I purge. And interestingly enough, not when I restrict. I like being myself when I'm healthy, when I'm taking care of myself, when I'm not in pretend control, but really in control of my life.
I contemplated starting over in the morning but after talking to a friend who also fell forward this evening, we both decided we'd correct the damage that had been done. So I sat down to a lovely dinner of macaroni and cheese and decided that there's truly no better time to start over than the present moment.
My first official face slam into the pavement occurred around 7 pm. I binged. And I purged. At the house with my 2 year old and 7 year old nephew around although thankfully they were napping during most of the incident. Thank God. Because there's really no explanation for why Titi has vomit in her hair.
Gross. I know.
And how did I end up binging and purging you ask after having such a fantastic run after leaving the Carolina House? Oh...because I decided that I was too fat today to eat meals so I skipped breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Uh huh. And I reasoned with myself that should the urge to binge occur, that I've had enough therapy over the past year and a half to coach myself through the binge and act opposite to the emotion.
There's where my ego was bruised. Silly me. I have an eating disorder. Sometimes I forget what that entails. Like, yeah, I'm going to wake up and feel fat, but I still can't skip a meal. And yeah, on that same day, I might actually feel physically sick to my stomach because of my prescription cocktail, but still, there are no sick days.
Have I learned my lesson? Hmm...I know it was a reality check of how far I've come and how far I still have to go on this journey. I do not like the person I am when I'm disordered. Not when I binge. Not when I purge. And interestingly enough, not when I restrict. I like being myself when I'm healthy, when I'm taking care of myself, when I'm not in pretend control, but really in control of my life.
I contemplated starting over in the morning but after talking to a friend who also fell forward this evening, we both decided we'd correct the damage that had been done. So I sat down to a lovely dinner of macaroni and cheese and decided that there's truly no better time to start over than the present moment.
Skipping Meals Already?
I try to think about why I'm doing this. Why after a year and a half of out patient treatment and two months in residential I'm so hard wired to believe that if I skip meals I can keep it up, lose weight, and be happier. I can't pinpoint it.
Yesterday I skipped two meals and I know what that does to my body. It makes me ravenous for food. It leads to binging. And that leads to purging. Frankly, eating any amount these days sends my mind spiraling downward towards those purging urges and it just upsets me so much that I think that is why I'm so resistant to regular meals. Because as someone who is overweight I still don't believe I deserve to eat food. Period. And so eating food makes me feel guilty, even if it's not a binge, but especially if I enjoy it. Sometimes it's not even a concious decision I make to skip a meal. Mostly, I'm just not hungry. Somehow my eating disorder has convinced my brain that I seriously don't need to eat and I'm absolutely fine with that until my body starts to rebel.
So it's almost 1 pm here and I did consider lunch but it's just...so hard. Do the therapists and nutritionists get that? Does anyone understand what it's like to hate your body so much that you end up mistreating it to the point of possibly no return and yet you still continue on with your eating disordered ways.
It's discouraging and frustrating and tiresome and depressing and I'm so sick of it. I wish I could just be like all the so called normal eaters out there. I wish I could accept my body the way that it is. I wish I could battle my eating disorder every meal and snack time and win. But sometimes I don't put up a fight at all. Sometimes I'm just simply glad that I skipped meals and didn't end up binging or purging and that's when I realize just how mentally ill people with eating disorders can be.
It's insidious. It's scary. And yet it's also a way to escape one's life. Still though, if there's one thing I learned from being at the Carolina House it's that I hate the eating disorder more than I love it. So if I can just manage to hold on to that knowledge, maybe I can summon up enough strength and eat lunch (and dinner) today after all.
Yesterday I skipped two meals and I know what that does to my body. It makes me ravenous for food. It leads to binging. And that leads to purging. Frankly, eating any amount these days sends my mind spiraling downward towards those purging urges and it just upsets me so much that I think that is why I'm so resistant to regular meals. Because as someone who is overweight I still don't believe I deserve to eat food. Period. And so eating food makes me feel guilty, even if it's not a binge, but especially if I enjoy it. Sometimes it's not even a concious decision I make to skip a meal. Mostly, I'm just not hungry. Somehow my eating disorder has convinced my brain that I seriously don't need to eat and I'm absolutely fine with that until my body starts to rebel.
So it's almost 1 pm here and I did consider lunch but it's just...so hard. Do the therapists and nutritionists get that? Does anyone understand what it's like to hate your body so much that you end up mistreating it to the point of possibly no return and yet you still continue on with your eating disordered ways.
It's discouraging and frustrating and tiresome and depressing and I'm so sick of it. I wish I could just be like all the so called normal eaters out there. I wish I could accept my body the way that it is. I wish I could battle my eating disorder every meal and snack time and win. But sometimes I don't put up a fight at all. Sometimes I'm just simply glad that I skipped meals and didn't end up binging or purging and that's when I realize just how mentally ill people with eating disorders can be.
It's insidious. It's scary. And yet it's also a way to escape one's life. Still though, if there's one thing I learned from being at the Carolina House it's that I hate the eating disorder more than I love it. So if I can just manage to hold on to that knowledge, maybe I can summon up enough strength and eat lunch (and dinner) today after all.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
on a roll
So I'm back at it again. Blogging, that is -- not eating disordered behaviors.
The transition has gone a whole lot better than I thought it would. It certainly hasn't been easy, for there have been moments that I've seriously contemplated purging. And well, I haven't exactly done three meals and two to three snacks each day. But I'm getting my needs met. (I think.)
That's the hard part. Figuring out what's restricting if I happen to have a bigger snack, then maybe not eating anything but a piece of fruit for lunch. Really all this means is that I'm in dire need of a nutritionist and the one at my outpatient clinic doesn't work there anymore and they haven't replaced her yet.
Head tilt.
An eating disorders clinic WITHOUT a nutritionist? How can this be?
The one at the residential program has her own practice but she charges $140 per hour and she doesn't take insurance. So umm...I may be battling that front (the WORST front) by myself for a bit.
There's also the issue of coming up with the finances to afford outpatient. Meeting with my therapist twice a week is $70. The dbt group and the body image group (a new one for me but let's just say I've needed to be apart of this group from the beginning) is $140. Meeting with the psychiatrist each week is $17. Meeting with the physician twice a month is $15 (and when there's a nutritionist that fits into the same bill assuming I see them on the same day). And then there's the outpatient group that the residential program has for alumnae (although they erroneously call it the alumni group -- but we're all women!) is $25.
The grand total being a little less than $1040 per MONTH.
So maybe I'll have to cut back to just the body image group and alumni group, once a week with the therapist, once a month with the psychiatrist and the doctor.
I need a job!
But I'm not letting this stress me out. For now I'm going to continue to fight this battle and let the money work itself out. Surprisingly, it has for the past 19 months and worrying does nothing to remedy the situation.
I've missed the sac and I'm glad to be back.
But I just have one question. Where is everyone?
(off to dinner. it's called self care!)
The grand total for the month is
The transition has gone a whole lot better than I thought it would. It certainly hasn't been easy, for there have been moments that I've seriously contemplated purging. And well, I haven't exactly done three meals and two to three snacks each day. But I'm getting my needs met. (I think.)
That's the hard part. Figuring out what's restricting if I happen to have a bigger snack, then maybe not eating anything but a piece of fruit for lunch. Really all this means is that I'm in dire need of a nutritionist and the one at my outpatient clinic doesn't work there anymore and they haven't replaced her yet.
Head tilt.
An eating disorders clinic WITHOUT a nutritionist? How can this be?
The one at the residential program has her own practice but she charges $140 per hour and she doesn't take insurance. So umm...I may be battling that front (the WORST front) by myself for a bit.
There's also the issue of coming up with the finances to afford outpatient. Meeting with my therapist twice a week is $70. The dbt group and the body image group (a new one for me but let's just say I've needed to be apart of this group from the beginning) is $140. Meeting with the psychiatrist each week is $17. Meeting with the physician twice a month is $15 (and when there's a nutritionist that fits into the same bill assuming I see them on the same day). And then there's the outpatient group that the residential program has for alumnae (although they erroneously call it the alumni group -- but we're all women!) is $25.
The grand total being a little less than $1040 per MONTH.
So maybe I'll have to cut back to just the body image group and alumni group, once a week with the therapist, once a month with the psychiatrist and the doctor.
I need a job!
But I'm not letting this stress me out. For now I'm going to continue to fight this battle and let the money work itself out. Surprisingly, it has for the past 19 months and worrying does nothing to remedy the situation.
I've missed the sac and I'm glad to be back.
But I just have one question. Where is everyone?
(off to dinner. it's called self care!)
The grand total for the month is
Friday, May 8, 2009
on partial
It feels different being back here. Or maybe it's merely that I feel different. I'm still at the C@rol1na House but for only twelve hours a day thanks to my wonderful insurance company, which I really do need to thank for even allowing me to go residential for as long as I did.
Monday night was my first night of partial and I'm staying with the family that I babysit for...I'm assuming you all remember. The two darling twin girls who've discovered Youtube in the past two months much to everyone's dismay. It's cute in the beginning to see the delight on their faces, to find them so giddy with sheer happiness as they wonder how Beyonce dances like that. "She must be really strong and healthy" (That's what one of the girls said. :) I could only smile.
Has it been easy? This transition into the real world which isn't quite so real as I am pretty much homeless come June and still unemployed and desperately not wanting to go back to PB although it seems as if that may be my only source of income for a while because I just feel that anxiety building as I think of the whole job search.
I'll be officially discharging a week from today, but going back to see Dixie and everyone else on the outpatient team earlier in the upcoming week so that there's no period in which I feel as if I'm doing this on my own. Because I'm not. I know that now. And I know that as much as I've been thinking of this community that -- well, I feel supported here and by people who know and may be further along in the recovery process than some of the girls at the house.
Oh dear! There are tales and tales and tales to relay to you all...about how arduous this really has been for me. But also about how I realized along the way I do have the strength to fight...if I'm willing to try 100% of the time. I know. That's asking a lot.
Prime example (and then I'll go) last night it was leftover night so I made a full portion salad, thinking that because it was "just" salad that it would be not as filling for me (the nutritionist has put me on 1/2 dinner portions -- which is kind of complicated to explain but essentially everyone in the house, no exceptions, has the exact same thing for dinner everyday except thursday, and everyone has the exact amount of exchanges. Except me. Because you know there was that thing with my metabolism being completely fudged up.) But I'm no longer bound by this "law" so to speak since I'm no longer on meal plans but on food journals where I'm supposed to document my food consumption and feelings and stay within a range (which is still pretty UNclear to me). Regardless, I felt extremely full afterwards and wanted to purge. I felt nauseas and disgusting and I was beating myself up for having too much SALAD.
But I tried using some skills. First I went to the nurse and told her what was going on and she asked me if I needed to take something to keep the food down. My eating disorder won that round because I walked away saying no; still thinking to myself that I wanted to purge. Then I did fruit therapy, which is where we throw spoiled fruit at trees and with all our strength and might. I threw two cantaloupes, three tomatoes, and an apple and the trees were decorated quite beautifully if I do say so myself. Then I started saying aloud, "Fuck off! Fuck off! Leave me alone! Fuck off!" A friend requested I stay at the house a little while longer having seen my struggles but I turned her down. Another one gave up the internet (a precious resource in our house) so that I might have more time in the house and feel less inclined to purge after leaving. I took her up on that offer.
Upon leaving though, I just thought about it...I just thought about how badly I wanted it and it happened. It scared me senseless. Because now I know, I really know, I can do it psychologically. No need for a physical purge. And I was just so fearful that all the hard work I'd done had come to an end because NOTHING about the way I think has changed. None of the eating disorder thoughts or feelings have been abandoned. The only thing is that I DO eat regularly and I've even cut back on my very scaled back meal plan as it is.
So I remind myself...People with eating disorders cannot skip meals. And purging is no longer an option. It's not. It's in the past.
Oh...and I was diagnosed with PCOS today.
Let's just say it's been one hell of a week.
Monday night was my first night of partial and I'm staying with the family that I babysit for...I'm assuming you all remember. The two darling twin girls who've discovered Youtube in the past two months much to everyone's dismay. It's cute in the beginning to see the delight on their faces, to find them so giddy with sheer happiness as they wonder how Beyonce dances like that. "She must be really strong and healthy" (That's what one of the girls said. :) I could only smile.
Has it been easy? This transition into the real world which isn't quite so real as I am pretty much homeless come June and still unemployed and desperately not wanting to go back to PB although it seems as if that may be my only source of income for a while because I just feel that anxiety building as I think of the whole job search.
I'll be officially discharging a week from today, but going back to see Dixie and everyone else on the outpatient team earlier in the upcoming week so that there's no period in which I feel as if I'm doing this on my own. Because I'm not. I know that now. And I know that as much as I've been thinking of this community that -- well, I feel supported here and by people who know and may be further along in the recovery process than some of the girls at the house.
Oh dear! There are tales and tales and tales to relay to you all...about how arduous this really has been for me. But also about how I realized along the way I do have the strength to fight...if I'm willing to try 100% of the time. I know. That's asking a lot.
Prime example (and then I'll go) last night it was leftover night so I made a full portion salad, thinking that because it was "just" salad that it would be not as filling for me (the nutritionist has put me on 1/2 dinner portions -- which is kind of complicated to explain but essentially everyone in the house, no exceptions, has the exact same thing for dinner everyday except thursday, and everyone has the exact amount of exchanges. Except me. Because you know there was that thing with my metabolism being completely fudged up.) But I'm no longer bound by this "law" so to speak since I'm no longer on meal plans but on food journals where I'm supposed to document my food consumption and feelings and stay within a range (which is still pretty UNclear to me). Regardless, I felt extremely full afterwards and wanted to purge. I felt nauseas and disgusting and I was beating myself up for having too much SALAD.
But I tried using some skills. First I went to the nurse and told her what was going on and she asked me if I needed to take something to keep the food down. My eating disorder won that round because I walked away saying no; still thinking to myself that I wanted to purge. Then I did fruit therapy, which is where we throw spoiled fruit at trees and with all our strength and might. I threw two cantaloupes, three tomatoes, and an apple and the trees were decorated quite beautifully if I do say so myself. Then I started saying aloud, "Fuck off! Fuck off! Leave me alone! Fuck off!" A friend requested I stay at the house a little while longer having seen my struggles but I turned her down. Another one gave up the internet (a precious resource in our house) so that I might have more time in the house and feel less inclined to purge after leaving. I took her up on that offer.
Upon leaving though, I just thought about it...I just thought about how badly I wanted it and it happened. It scared me senseless. Because now I know, I really know, I can do it psychologically. No need for a physical purge. And I was just so fearful that all the hard work I'd done had come to an end because NOTHING about the way I think has changed. None of the eating disorder thoughts or feelings have been abandoned. The only thing is that I DO eat regularly and I've even cut back on my very scaled back meal plan as it is.
So I remind myself...People with eating disorders cannot skip meals. And purging is no longer an option. It's not. It's in the past.
Oh...and I was diagnosed with PCOS today.
Let's just say it's been one hell of a week.
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