It's been a long time since I've posted, and I feel like a lot has happened over the year or so that I have been absent. A lot of hopeful things and a lot of things that have left me feeling defeated. I want try to refrain from rehashing the last year unless it directly relates to what I am feeling in this moment.
Since February, I have been bouncing from treatment center, to psych ward, to treatment center, and so forth. I initially went into treatment feeling hopeful, feeling like this might be the time, this might be the LAST time I ever have to do this, this will be the time to not just learn, but to acquire the skills needed to maintain recovery. And then boom, three days into treatment I got taken by ambulance to a "Behavioral Health Unit" within a medical hospital. That was a pretty deep low for me, especially because at the time I could not recognize how bad things were. But looking back, even to just a few weeks ago, I apologize in advance for the language but I have been in a pretty fucked up place both behaviorally and emotionally.
Since then, I was forced into treatment, signed myself out against medical advance, was obligated to go into treatment again with the consequence that if I did not go I would lose my outpatient team, and then asked to leave after five weeks because the facility was ill-equipped to address my mental health concerns. And yes, they were concerns.
The most recent stint in treatment, I felt like I was well prepared to come out and "face the world." I knew from past experience that I can do treatment REALLY well, and still struggle at home. I had no doubt that this was a replication of the past. However, the difference this time is that I had received such inspiration from the small community I had become close with, that recovery could be possible. I became self-aware of the areas I needed to work on in my personal life. And most importantly, I had so much to lose. This fall will be my internship, and I can't risk ever having to go back to treatment; that would put my career at jeopardy. Because of what I had at stake, I felt like that would give me the motivation to make recovery work at home.
NEWS FLASH: Motivation isn't everything. I have written about this topic before, so I should know this. I got home and I crashed the first day. I have no doubt if I let this consume me that I will not be able to successfully make it through my internship. And I have no doubt that one small slip will really fuck up my world. But being motivated doesn't stop me from being afraid to eat all 8 starches on my meal plan.
Motivation gave me the ability to make a shopping list that contained all the exchanges I needed to meet my meal plan. Motivation helped me go to the store and put the items I needed in my cart. Motivation inspired me to label all of my foods with the product's exchanges so I would not have to go back to weighing out and measuring food that did not need to be weighed or measured, or obsessively counting calories. But motivation did not rid me of the debilitating fear of meeting my meal plan, or calm me down when I panicked and became frantic after consuming a "normal" dinner; motivation did not halt me from purging.
It's so discouraging to have the tools that seem to help others in their own recovery, to have practiced and succeeded at using them in treatment, and to come home and not be able to access them. It's discouraging to feel confident that I am prepared to do recovery outside of a facility, only to come home and crash and burn. It's discouraging to know that my passion is on the line, and to not have that stop me. It's discouraging that my summer is now going to be me going back into treatment, and that I am once again going to miss out on opportunities with my family and relatives.
It's hard for me to view recovery as sustainable. Right now treatment feels like merely "Crisis Mitigation." That is, I can be in a scary place both in my eating disorder or in my emotional health and go into treatment and be saved, but it will never completely take me to the staircase needed to get out of this hell. Maybe, just maybe, I can reach a happy place in recovery for a few months, but it is inevitable that I will always be susceptible to relapse. And it it inevitable that just the right concoction of triggers and stressors will set me down the spiral again.
Showing posts with label eating disorder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating disorder. Show all posts
Identity
I realize it's been a while since I have last posted. I honestly don't know who even reads this anymore, or if this post will even be read. I have thought about posting over the past several months, and nothing has really stood out to me. Are things going well? Are things going poor? But why do I even want to share that publicly?
It's recently become more clear to me that I have found my identity less and less in my eating disorder. Yes, I still struggle with the whole identity piece because many of my closest friends are people I have met through treatment, and a lot of people I currently know do know about my history. It is definitely something that's always a "fall back" in my mind. I struggle with an eating disorder, I always will struggle with it (I know that's debatable, but I personally believe this is something that I will struggle with for the rest of my life). If I'm lost and feel hopeless in life, my eating disorder is who I am.
But over the past year, while there have definitely been times where I have been deeply immersed in my eating disorder, I have slowly been able to distance myself from that identity. I have ambitions in life, I am passionate about a career in helping hospitalized children, I have a very planned out timeline of where I want to be a year from now. While my ED still lingers in the background and is still a struggle, it's not something I feel that I need (or even want) people to know about me.
During my volunteering at Children's National Medical Center, and during my application process for practicums, my ED was something I definitely tried to keep on the down low. I used to be very open about my struggle and my recovery, and while it's not necessarily a "secret," it's not something I choose to share unless the conversation leads in the direction of me appropriately sharing. And even then, I share it as a "past struggle," and try not to focus on current presence of it.
Today I had a conversation with another student at my practicum, and the conversation came up about how I really struggle being home around Thanksgiving. Without going into every single detail of the conversation, at first I had no intention of sharing why. I did not want that to be how I was viewed, or something that triggered a red flag. But eventually it just felt natural to share that I previously struggled with it. The conversation wasn't long, but it was somewhat relieving to have a brief conversation with someone who had a close friend who also struggled with this, and wasn't ignorant to the impact it has on someone.
All this being said (I know I tend to get wordy with my posts and go on tangents), lately it's become very evident that I do not want to be known for my eating disorder. Yes, my eating disorder, my struggle, and my accomplishments through it is a HUGE part of who I am today. Sometimes it's hard for me to accept simple comments such as how I seem natural talking with people without them knowing that 3 years ago I couldn't even acknowledge or make eye contact with my own immediate family - because there was a lot of work that was put into my current [amazing] relationships that I now have with them.
I'm learning to accept who I am now as I am. Yes, I had to create who I am now. Yes, I still struggle with self worth and confidence. Yes, I still have flaws. Yes, it took me a long time to get to the point of where I am now. But I do not need validation from others to recognize all the hard work I put into who I am now. Clinging to the ED identity, or even the "recovery" identity is an easy identity to fall back on. But I'm realizing there's so much more than me than that. That is a simple part of my story. Every one of us has a story as to what made us who we are now. We all fought different battles. We all still struggle with different demons. We are all a work in progress.
Living in the moment and accepting who I am now, and accepting my strengths in getting to where I am now, that's what makes me feel fulfilled. I have a long way to go, and I think we are always going to be growing through fighting our trials. But trying to hold on to an identity that kept me miserable and kept my world very narrow limits my ability to thrive.
So to put it short. I am NOT my eating disorder. I am not just someone who is struggling to overcome her demons. I am just like anyone else. I have struggles that will always be there, but I am also strong in many other ways. There's no harm in recognizing where I need to improve, but I have found that letting go of labels and identities is what truly lets me be human and live my life fully.
It's recently become more clear to me that I have found my identity less and less in my eating disorder. Yes, I still struggle with the whole identity piece because many of my closest friends are people I have met through treatment, and a lot of people I currently know do know about my history. It is definitely something that's always a "fall back" in my mind. I struggle with an eating disorder, I always will struggle with it (I know that's debatable, but I personally believe this is something that I will struggle with for the rest of my life). If I'm lost and feel hopeless in life, my eating disorder is who I am.
But over the past year, while there have definitely been times where I have been deeply immersed in my eating disorder, I have slowly been able to distance myself from that identity. I have ambitions in life, I am passionate about a career in helping hospitalized children, I have a very planned out timeline of where I want to be a year from now. While my ED still lingers in the background and is still a struggle, it's not something I feel that I need (or even want) people to know about me.
During my volunteering at Children's National Medical Center, and during my application process for practicums, my ED was something I definitely tried to keep on the down low. I used to be very open about my struggle and my recovery, and while it's not necessarily a "secret," it's not something I choose to share unless the conversation leads in the direction of me appropriately sharing. And even then, I share it as a "past struggle," and try not to focus on current presence of it.
Today I had a conversation with another student at my practicum, and the conversation came up about how I really struggle being home around Thanksgiving. Without going into every single detail of the conversation, at first I had no intention of sharing why. I did not want that to be how I was viewed, or something that triggered a red flag. But eventually it just felt natural to share that I previously struggled with it. The conversation wasn't long, but it was somewhat relieving to have a brief conversation with someone who had a close friend who also struggled with this, and wasn't ignorant to the impact it has on someone.
All this being said (I know I tend to get wordy with my posts and go on tangents), lately it's become very evident that I do not want to be known for my eating disorder. Yes, my eating disorder, my struggle, and my accomplishments through it is a HUGE part of who I am today. Sometimes it's hard for me to accept simple comments such as how I seem natural talking with people without them knowing that 3 years ago I couldn't even acknowledge or make eye contact with my own immediate family - because there was a lot of work that was put into my current [amazing] relationships that I now have with them.
I'm learning to accept who I am now as I am. Yes, I had to create who I am now. Yes, I still struggle with self worth and confidence. Yes, I still have flaws. Yes, it took me a long time to get to the point of where I am now. But I do not need validation from others to recognize all the hard work I put into who I am now. Clinging to the ED identity, or even the "recovery" identity is an easy identity to fall back on. But I'm realizing there's so much more than me than that. That is a simple part of my story. Every one of us has a story as to what made us who we are now. We all fought different battles. We all still struggle with different demons. We are all a work in progress.
Living in the moment and accepting who I am now, and accepting my strengths in getting to where I am now, that's what makes me feel fulfilled. I have a long way to go, and I think we are always going to be growing through fighting our trials. But trying to hold on to an identity that kept me miserable and kept my world very narrow limits my ability to thrive.
So to put it short. I am NOT my eating disorder. I am not just someone who is struggling to overcome her demons. I am just like anyone else. I have struggles that will always be there, but I am also strong in many other ways. There's no harm in recognizing where I need to improve, but I have found that letting go of labels and identities is what truly lets me be human and live my life fully.
Overdue update
It has been over three months since I've posted, and I feel like after my most recent less than thrilling post on life, anyone who actually reads this thing deserves a little bit of an update. I'm going to try my best to keep this brief, but we all know how I am with that... so we shall see how that goes.
I am honestly doing so much better than I was a few months ago. January (and all of winter break to be honest) was pretty awful in many aspects, that post wasn't an exaggeration. Although I will admit that when things are bad, my mind tends to be completely oblivious to any thing that could possibly be positive in life. I don't know exactly what happened, and it doesn't really matter anyways, but I somehow turned things around. I guess lack of structure is pretty debilitating for me, so going back to school added the structure that I needed. It also gave me some motivation to break out of the self-destructive cycle I was in, as I do desire to successfully complete school and work towards a career that I am passionate about. And while I used to be able to be productive and manage daily tasks while I was actively engaging in my ED, my brain just can't deal with that anymore and even remembering what I was thinking two seconds ago is impossible when I'm not nourishing myself properly. Basically long story short, somewhere towards the beginning of February I managed to dig myself out of a hole that I had been digging.
That's not to say that things have not been difficult. I think I went through a bit of a honeymoon phase during most of February, where yes, doing the whole recovery thing was hard, but it was also somewhat rewarding because I wasn't constantly isolating myself from everyone and ruminating on how much I'd rather be dead, and I could enjoy things that "normal" people take for granted. That's since worn off and I've been hit with the reality of how much recovery actually sucks (while not ignoring the fact that life really IS better when I'm meeting my body's needs). But I'm not going to beat around the bush, living in my body feels like a nightmare, and I'm constantly second guessing everything I consume ("do I actually NEED to eat this carb for dinner? I had oatmeal for breakfast...."). And making good decisions for myself is difficult, because there's no one telling me I have to do it (I'm no longer seeing a dietitian, and I only see my therapist and physician once a month). In the back of my mind, I'm constantly debating whether all this is worth it, because in the moment it never seems like it is. I have to keep looking forward and realizing that maybe life has the potential to be fulfilling if I keep trying to fight this battle. I'll never really know if I give up.
In writing all of this, I feel like I'm oversimplifying what's going on in my mind. There's a lot I'm not sharing because a lot of my "ED thoughts" are pretty disturbing and I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that I think a lot of the things I do. But in short, none of this has been easy, every day I battle with the "need" to restrict. I have bad days, and very bad days, but I also have a lot of good days.
As a quick update on life - I recently applied to multiple Child Life Practicums at hospitals in Maryland. I had no idea how competitive it was, until I got turned down (without even an interview) by all but one location (which I'm still waiting to hear back from). According to one of the Child Life Specialists at the hospital I volunteer at, one of the places I applied received over 40 applicants and only selected one. It's pretty discouraging being turned down repeatedly when I know this is what I want to do. The only thing I can really do is continue to build up my experience, revise my application answers and resume, and reapply for the fall (to more places this time). I feel kind of bad asking my references again for letters of recommendation and to re-fill out forms.
Right now I'm incredibly busy with things. Which in some sense is good, because it keeps my time pretty structured and I have little room to dwell on negative things in life. I'm taking two classes at UMD with an anticipated graduation date of May 18, 2016. I also just recently started an online Child Life program and am taking a class online, which has kept me pretty busy. In addition to education, I'm working again at State Farm four days a week, and am also continuing to volunteer at the Children's hospital. I do enjoy everything I've been engaging in, even though I'm constantly tired and my only down time is when I'm driving from place to place. But it keeps my days structured, and structure is what I thrive off of.
So that's basically my life right now. Much more than I had planned on writing (called it), but I guess that's what happens when you ignore your blog for 3ish months.
-Sarah :)
I am honestly doing so much better than I was a few months ago. January (and all of winter break to be honest) was pretty awful in many aspects, that post wasn't an exaggeration. Although I will admit that when things are bad, my mind tends to be completely oblivious to any thing that could possibly be positive in life. I don't know exactly what happened, and it doesn't really matter anyways, but I somehow turned things around. I guess lack of structure is pretty debilitating for me, so going back to school added the structure that I needed. It also gave me some motivation to break out of the self-destructive cycle I was in, as I do desire to successfully complete school and work towards a career that I am passionate about. And while I used to be able to be productive and manage daily tasks while I was actively engaging in my ED, my brain just can't deal with that anymore and even remembering what I was thinking two seconds ago is impossible when I'm not nourishing myself properly. Basically long story short, somewhere towards the beginning of February I managed to dig myself out of a hole that I had been digging.
That's not to say that things have not been difficult. I think I went through a bit of a honeymoon phase during most of February, where yes, doing the whole recovery thing was hard, but it was also somewhat rewarding because I wasn't constantly isolating myself from everyone and ruminating on how much I'd rather be dead, and I could enjoy things that "normal" people take for granted. That's since worn off and I've been hit with the reality of how much recovery actually sucks (while not ignoring the fact that life really IS better when I'm meeting my body's needs). But I'm not going to beat around the bush, living in my body feels like a nightmare, and I'm constantly second guessing everything I consume ("do I actually NEED to eat this carb for dinner? I had oatmeal for breakfast...."). And making good decisions for myself is difficult, because there's no one telling me I have to do it (I'm no longer seeing a dietitian, and I only see my therapist and physician once a month). In the back of my mind, I'm constantly debating whether all this is worth it, because in the moment it never seems like it is. I have to keep looking forward and realizing that maybe life has the potential to be fulfilling if I keep trying to fight this battle. I'll never really know if I give up.
In writing all of this, I feel like I'm oversimplifying what's going on in my mind. There's a lot I'm not sharing because a lot of my "ED thoughts" are pretty disturbing and I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that I think a lot of the things I do. But in short, none of this has been easy, every day I battle with the "need" to restrict. I have bad days, and very bad days, but I also have a lot of good days.
As a quick update on life - I recently applied to multiple Child Life Practicums at hospitals in Maryland. I had no idea how competitive it was, until I got turned down (without even an interview) by all but one location (which I'm still waiting to hear back from). According to one of the Child Life Specialists at the hospital I volunteer at, one of the places I applied received over 40 applicants and only selected one. It's pretty discouraging being turned down repeatedly when I know this is what I want to do. The only thing I can really do is continue to build up my experience, revise my application answers and resume, and reapply for the fall (to more places this time). I feel kind of bad asking my references again for letters of recommendation and to re-fill out forms.
Right now I'm incredibly busy with things. Which in some sense is good, because it keeps my time pretty structured and I have little room to dwell on negative things in life. I'm taking two classes at UMD with an anticipated graduation date of May 18, 2016. I also just recently started an online Child Life program and am taking a class online, which has kept me pretty busy. In addition to education, I'm working again at State Farm four days a week, and am also continuing to volunteer at the Children's hospital. I do enjoy everything I've been engaging in, even though I'm constantly tired and my only down time is when I'm driving from place to place. But it keeps my days structured, and structure is what I thrive off of.
So that's basically my life right now. Much more than I had planned on writing (called it), but I guess that's what happens when you ignore your blog for 3ish months.
-Sarah :)
Stuck in my cycle
I really do not know what to even say, or where to begin. Other than that things have gone downhill real fast over the past two weeks. Forgive for being vulgar, I just have a lot on my mind that I have a hard time articulating without using unnecessary profanity. But basically, I feel so fucking out of control right now.
I do not know what to do with myself. I have been ambivalent about recovery for basically the entire time I have been "in-recovery" (whatever the fuck that means). Kind of one foot in, one foot out. The idea that "I can always go back" circling through my mind. There have been phases (such as right out of treatment) where I have been on a "recovery high," things are well, I feel joy, I want to get better, I feel like I have a life, etc. But then that high wears off, and my hope or desire towards recovery dips. It is like a spectrum, I am constantly climbing up and down it. I am doing well, I have hope, my desire spikes, or I am doing well but reality hits me and I start freaking out because life is different without my eating disorder (not necessarily a bad thing, but a terrifying thing), or I am struggling and I lose hope entirely and give up. The last couple of months I have been on the lower end of the spectrum, but still hanging in there by a few threads.
I do not know what happened. The holidays came (lots of "scary" or "triggering" foods, stress of being surrounded by people and having to make an attempt at being social), not having school as a motivator to keep pushing forward, not having structure and isolating more which feeds into my depression, going off my meds, grad school application deadlines and literally having NO motivation to do anything but sleep all day, feeling hopeless about getting into grad school because I literally can not get myself to move forward in that direction, hopelessness about the future in general, feeling inadequate because I am almost 26 and still dependent on my parents and still not having my shit together... basically all these things, if not more, just triggered me to fall back into using my eating disorder behaviors.
I had been struggling already with mostly heavily restricting my intake, but then the holidays and holiday food came into the picture and that pretty much triggered a monster in me. I went into the holidays pretty confident that I was going to be okay, I always do (I don't know why I don't just learn from history repeating itself, but even if I did I'm not sure how that would prepare me). Usually when talking about my behaviors I talk about restriction as the main behavior I struggle with, but I go through patterns where I will start purging, which triggers me to restrict my intake of pretty much everything (because I hate purging, everything about it), which leads to binging and purging. I literally have not gone a day without binging and purging multiple times a day in 10 days. It makes me feel gross to admit that, because it is atypical of my disorder, but it happens and can last a few weeks to a few months. When I get into the cycle I can not get myself to stop. All I can think about is fucking shoveling every thing I can into my mouth and getting rid of it. Every day I promise myself I will not eat "trigger foods" (because there are some things I pretty much can not eat without knowing I will end up purging it), that I will stick to my safe foods, maybe I will even eat enough if that means not binging and purging. But then the intense desire to consume and consume and consume kicks in. I don't even taste the food anymore (I do in the beginning). It kind of comes as a package, eating everything and then getting rid of it. I hate every single part of it, but I can not stop.
Sorry if that was too much information. I feel really ashamed of binging and purging, but I am not going to sit here and pretend that I just restrict my food because that would be a freaking lie. The only way I know how to get out of this cycle is simply to not eat. Fill up on coffee, diet sodas, zero calorie energy drinks. Eat less than 500 calories a day. Only eat specific items which are precisely weighed out. Take an hour to pick apart a fucking clif bar, which I may or may not purge. Binging and purging literally scares any desire to eat out of me. This is how things got out of hand the first time my family recognize there was a problem, binged and purged for months until I was so scared of eating that I literally starved myself until I ended up on bed rest in a treatment center.
All of this is making me feel so out of control and hopeless, and making me lack motivation to recover completely. I do not have a desire anymore to keep trying and setting myself up for failure. Why try when I can only get so far before I fail? I feel like I can not live a life without my eating disorder. I know what kind of life (or lack thereof) my eating disorder brings me, and it is terrible in ways that I do not even know how to describe. It is dark, lonely, depressing, scary, but also filled with emptiness. It completely ruins my relationships with everyone. But I keep getting pulled back to that. It is so much easier to live like this, and I do not know why. I always see the quote floating around, "recovery isn't as hard as living a lifetime with an eating disorder." I call bullshit. Recovery is actually the hardest thing I have ever attempted. Every fucking day I have to re-make up my mind that I want to recover, and even then there is the challenge of actually being able to do it. WANTING to recover is a challenge in itself.
I made a pretty bold move and decided to stop seeing my dietitian. I just do not feel like there is any point to seeing her when I do not even know if I want to recover anymore or if I am even capable of it. I feel like I am throwing money away. I do not think a dietitian can be helpful unless I am motivated, and right now I am not. Plus, I am pretty sure I irritate the crap out of her because she is constantly giving me recommendations and I do not follow through with them. Or I will hit my calorie goal for a few days, and then completely fuck it up. I have not quit the rest of my team yet, but I feel like it is really pointless to see them right now when I just do not have any desire to get better anymore. Who knows, maybe they will spark something in me and help me pull myself out of the current cycle I am in.
I do not know what to do with myself. I have been ambivalent about recovery for basically the entire time I have been "in-recovery" (whatever the fuck that means). Kind of one foot in, one foot out. The idea that "I can always go back" circling through my mind. There have been phases (such as right out of treatment) where I have been on a "recovery high," things are well, I feel joy, I want to get better, I feel like I have a life, etc. But then that high wears off, and my hope or desire towards recovery dips. It is like a spectrum, I am constantly climbing up and down it. I am doing well, I have hope, my desire spikes, or I am doing well but reality hits me and I start freaking out because life is different without my eating disorder (not necessarily a bad thing, but a terrifying thing), or I am struggling and I lose hope entirely and give up. The last couple of months I have been on the lower end of the spectrum, but still hanging in there by a few threads.
I do not know what happened. The holidays came (lots of "scary" or "triggering" foods, stress of being surrounded by people and having to make an attempt at being social), not having school as a motivator to keep pushing forward, not having structure and isolating more which feeds into my depression, going off my meds, grad school application deadlines and literally having NO motivation to do anything but sleep all day, feeling hopeless about getting into grad school because I literally can not get myself to move forward in that direction, hopelessness about the future in general, feeling inadequate because I am almost 26 and still dependent on my parents and still not having my shit together... basically all these things, if not more, just triggered me to fall back into using my eating disorder behaviors.
I had been struggling already with mostly heavily restricting my intake, but then the holidays and holiday food came into the picture and that pretty much triggered a monster in me. I went into the holidays pretty confident that I was going to be okay, I always do (I don't know why I don't just learn from history repeating itself, but even if I did I'm not sure how that would prepare me). Usually when talking about my behaviors I talk about restriction as the main behavior I struggle with, but I go through patterns where I will start purging, which triggers me to restrict my intake of pretty much everything (because I hate purging, everything about it), which leads to binging and purging. I literally have not gone a day without binging and purging multiple times a day in 10 days. It makes me feel gross to admit that, because it is atypical of my disorder, but it happens and can last a few weeks to a few months. When I get into the cycle I can not get myself to stop. All I can think about is fucking shoveling every thing I can into my mouth and getting rid of it. Every day I promise myself I will not eat "trigger foods" (because there are some things I pretty much can not eat without knowing I will end up purging it), that I will stick to my safe foods, maybe I will even eat enough if that means not binging and purging. But then the intense desire to consume and consume and consume kicks in. I don't even taste the food anymore (I do in the beginning). It kind of comes as a package, eating everything and then getting rid of it. I hate every single part of it, but I can not stop.
Sorry if that was too much information. I feel really ashamed of binging and purging, but I am not going to sit here and pretend that I just restrict my food because that would be a freaking lie. The only way I know how to get out of this cycle is simply to not eat. Fill up on coffee, diet sodas, zero calorie energy drinks. Eat less than 500 calories a day. Only eat specific items which are precisely weighed out. Take an hour to pick apart a fucking clif bar, which I may or may not purge. Binging and purging literally scares any desire to eat out of me. This is how things got out of hand the first time my family recognize there was a problem, binged and purged for months until I was so scared of eating that I literally starved myself until I ended up on bed rest in a treatment center.
All of this is making me feel so out of control and hopeless, and making me lack motivation to recover completely. I do not have a desire anymore to keep trying and setting myself up for failure. Why try when I can only get so far before I fail? I feel like I can not live a life without my eating disorder. I know what kind of life (or lack thereof) my eating disorder brings me, and it is terrible in ways that I do not even know how to describe. It is dark, lonely, depressing, scary, but also filled with emptiness. It completely ruins my relationships with everyone. But I keep getting pulled back to that. It is so much easier to live like this, and I do not know why. I always see the quote floating around, "recovery isn't as hard as living a lifetime with an eating disorder." I call bullshit. Recovery is actually the hardest thing I have ever attempted. Every fucking day I have to re-make up my mind that I want to recover, and even then there is the challenge of actually being able to do it. WANTING to recover is a challenge in itself.
I made a pretty bold move and decided to stop seeing my dietitian. I just do not feel like there is any point to seeing her when I do not even know if I want to recover anymore or if I am even capable of it. I feel like I am throwing money away. I do not think a dietitian can be helpful unless I am motivated, and right now I am not. Plus, I am pretty sure I irritate the crap out of her because she is constantly giving me recommendations and I do not follow through with them. Or I will hit my calorie goal for a few days, and then completely fuck it up. I have not quit the rest of my team yet, but I feel like it is really pointless to see them right now when I just do not have any desire to get better anymore. Who knows, maybe they will spark something in me and help me pull myself out of the current cycle I am in.
Physical vs. Mental Illness
Photo Source: BuzzFeed Health https://www.facebook.com/BuzzFeedHealth/
Like seriously. There is so much STIGMA behind mental illness, and people don't take it seriously. When the symptoms of mental illness are actually also PHYSICAL, debilitating, and real. Oh yeah, and life threatening.
Also, THIS. With an endless amount of other emotions.
Like seriously. There is so much STIGMA behind mental illness, and people don't take it seriously. When the symptoms of mental illness are actually also PHYSICAL, debilitating, and real. Oh yeah, and life threatening.
Also, THIS. With an endless amount of other emotions.
Right back where I belong
I met with my psychiatrist today and it was an interesting visit. Some background information. I stopped taking my meds on Sunday. Cold turkey. I was coming home from Boston early that morning, and I didn't want to consume anything because I wanted to be able to weigh myself when I got home with nothing in my stomach (I ended up drinking a diet coke on the plain, but that's a moot point). I don't know why, but after not having taken my meds on Sunday, I had no motivation to take them on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday. I told her that I had "forgotten" but the story eventually came out. I got super sick on Monday, unsurprisingly, considering the amount of meds I'm on and how stopping cold turkey affects my brain chemistry.
My sleep has been so messed up since Sunday. I've been tired constantly, taking long but low quality (basically sleepless) naps during the day, and getting little to no sleep at night. I'll go to sleep and literally wake up every hour if not more, and it takes me forever to fall back asleep. We talked about this and how my circadian rhythm was screwed up. Likely from withdrawing from medication that a.) makes me more sleepy in general, and b.) some of which help with sleep. But also because depression in general makes you more tired, which is what makes me constantly tired and feeling like I need to nap during the day, which throws off my circadian rhythm making it difficult if not impossible to sleep at night.
We then had a long discussion about my motivation behind not taking medication. She saw right through me and knew that I hadn't "forgotten" my meds the following days. She talked to me about the different reasons why people fail to take their medication, something that ultimately makes them feel better. Some reasons were control, apathy or ambivalence towards feeling/getting better, fear of getting better, etc. The ambivalence and fear of being okay kind of resonated with me. It kind of parallels to my eating disorder. I'm so ambivalent towards recovery from my eating disorder, mostly because of fear of what I'm letting go of. The same holds true for medication, not so much in the sense of "letting go" of something that keeps me safe. But I'm so used to being sick in my head that going back to feeling like shit feels comfortable. I don't know why, but it is also somewhat scary to be okay. Why? It doesn't make sense. But she said it wasn't uncommon. As miserable and depressed and anxious as I am without my medication, it feels right. And a few days of not taking my medication, and feeling a huge dip in my mood, just made me feel somewhat safe and at home. I know it doesn't make sense the way I'm explaining it, but when we talked about it, it made a whole lot more sense.
We talked about what we would do going forward from here. I'm apathetic towards taking my medication right now. She said she would support me with any decision I decided to go. So basically we decided to go off of my Luvox, Abilify, Lexapro, and Trazadone, and to keep the Klonopin and Focalin. That was my decision. I'm not sure how I pulled that one over her, considering the Klonopin and Focalin are my two "abusable" and controlled substances. But whatever, she was cool with it. She said as long as I promised to be smart about it, and to come back in if my suicidal thoughts became more than just "fleeting" thoughts.
As okay as I'd been the past few days with not taking my medication, I kind of left with a bit of a pit in my stomach. Like maybe I made a bad decision. I could have had her prescribe my meds, and chosen from there whether I wanted to get them filled, or even get them filled and decided from there whether to take them. But no, I totally gave up 4 of my meds which keep my mind somewhat sane. I felt somewhat like I was giving up. I almost cried over it on the way home, because in a way I felt like I was "grieving" my medication. Which is somewhat silly. But again, it does keep my mood relatively okay, and I'm giving that up.
So basically I just dropped 2/3's of my medication. I'm not sure how okay with it I am, but at the same time I take comfort in knowing that I can go back to my depressed, miserable, and anxious state. It's sick to say and to think, but part of me is looking forward to feeling the missed hole and darkness in my life that consumed me. It feels like I'm back at home, where I belong.
My sleep has been so messed up since Sunday. I've been tired constantly, taking long but low quality (basically sleepless) naps during the day, and getting little to no sleep at night. I'll go to sleep and literally wake up every hour if not more, and it takes me forever to fall back asleep. We talked about this and how my circadian rhythm was screwed up. Likely from withdrawing from medication that a.) makes me more sleepy in general, and b.) some of which help with sleep. But also because depression in general makes you more tired, which is what makes me constantly tired and feeling like I need to nap during the day, which throws off my circadian rhythm making it difficult if not impossible to sleep at night.
We then had a long discussion about my motivation behind not taking medication. She saw right through me and knew that I hadn't "forgotten" my meds the following days. She talked to me about the different reasons why people fail to take their medication, something that ultimately makes them feel better. Some reasons were control, apathy or ambivalence towards feeling/getting better, fear of getting better, etc. The ambivalence and fear of being okay kind of resonated with me. It kind of parallels to my eating disorder. I'm so ambivalent towards recovery from my eating disorder, mostly because of fear of what I'm letting go of. The same holds true for medication, not so much in the sense of "letting go" of something that keeps me safe. But I'm so used to being sick in my head that going back to feeling like shit feels comfortable. I don't know why, but it is also somewhat scary to be okay. Why? It doesn't make sense. But she said it wasn't uncommon. As miserable and depressed and anxious as I am without my medication, it feels right. And a few days of not taking my medication, and feeling a huge dip in my mood, just made me feel somewhat safe and at home. I know it doesn't make sense the way I'm explaining it, but when we talked about it, it made a whole lot more sense.
We talked about what we would do going forward from here. I'm apathetic towards taking my medication right now. She said she would support me with any decision I decided to go. So basically we decided to go off of my Luvox, Abilify, Lexapro, and Trazadone, and to keep the Klonopin and Focalin. That was my decision. I'm not sure how I pulled that one over her, considering the Klonopin and Focalin are my two "abusable" and controlled substances. But whatever, she was cool with it. She said as long as I promised to be smart about it, and to come back in if my suicidal thoughts became more than just "fleeting" thoughts.
As okay as I'd been the past few days with not taking my medication, I kind of left with a bit of a pit in my stomach. Like maybe I made a bad decision. I could have had her prescribe my meds, and chosen from there whether I wanted to get them filled, or even get them filled and decided from there whether to take them. But no, I totally gave up 4 of my meds which keep my mind somewhat sane. I felt somewhat like I was giving up. I almost cried over it on the way home, because in a way I felt like I was "grieving" my medication. Which is somewhat silly. But again, it does keep my mood relatively okay, and I'm giving that up.
So basically I just dropped 2/3's of my medication. I'm not sure how okay with it I am, but at the same time I take comfort in knowing that I can go back to my depressed, miserable, and anxious state. It's sick to say and to think, but part of me is looking forward to feeling the missed hole and darkness in my life that consumed me. It feels like I'm back at home, where I belong.
A fun weekend
I don't normally post about my social life. Mainly because, well, I don't have one. But this weekend was pretty full of activity and fun. Pretty rare for me.
It started out Thursday night. My old roommate, Nadiya, and I went to DC 101's holiday concert at Eagle Bank Arena. There were five bands that played, but the main two that I enjoyed were the struts and fall out boy. I'm not hugely into music, and never really sing along to the songs. But I love going to events like this mainly because I LOVE getting dressed up and going all out. Which I did. That's my favorite part of going to events or parties is getting dressed up. I definitely had the goth/hardcore thing going. Which was pretty fun, because I'm typically all pink, glitter, and unicorns.
The next morning (Friday), I woke up bright and early (well, it was actually kind of dark) for my flight to Boston to visit my brother (and a pretty sweet grad school). My brother picked me up from the airport and drove me back to his place. He had some stuff he had to get done, so he headed out, and I pretty much napped all day. Which was much needed after only getting maybe 2-3 hours of sleep the night before.
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| On flight to Boston - notice my eyeliner from the previous night is still remaining |
My brother got home later in the evening, and I hung out with him and his roommate. We walked to the liquor store to get some beer and wine, and had some drinks at home while we chilled out and ate some local pizza (something I wouldn't have eaten a few months ago, because I can only guess the number of calories in it).
The next morning was another early morning. My brother drove me to Wheelock College, which is a college primarily focused on education and early childhood development, with roughly 1200 student. And only 400 of them are grad students. I went there for the open house, and went on a quick tour of the campus (which was pretty tiny). I absolutely fell in love with the school. Apparently it's the first school with a Child Life Master's program, and the top one in the country. They only admit up to 12 students into the program, so it's pretty freaking competitive (but so is Towson). I just loved the supportive atmosphere of it, the way the class is small and set up as a cohort, and how they help set you up for an internship. Child Life only requires that you have 480 hours for your internship, but they set you up with two internships - one 400 hour internship in a hospital setting, and one 200 hour internship in a more narrow clinical setting. Which puts you high up there for employee seekers. I also like how all the major hospitals are literally right down the street from Wheelock, and how Wheelock is literally right on the green line which makes it an easy transit. Like I said, I fell in love with this school.
After my brother brought me home, him and his roommate and I walked to The Red Lentil - a pretty awesome vegetarian restaurant right down the street from his apartment. As much as food causes me so much anxiety and chaos in my mind, I love trying out new restaurants. Especially veg ones where you can only find in specific locations. I loved the food. I got the vegan pumpkin bisque, and a butternut squash and artichoke quesadilla with vegan cheese.
After lunch we came back to Josh's place, and I slept some more (you'd think I was an old lady!). Then I took the bus into Boston to visit a friend in Harvard Square. I had so much fun hanging out with her and just chatting. Most of our conversation had nothing to do with our eating disorders, which was really refreshing because I feel like most of my relationships center around our eating disorders. And it was cool that we could have fun and enjoy each other's company WITHOUT shit talking treatment centers and talking about how fucked up we are. Along with many other stores, we spent a ton of time at Newbury Comics, which had hardly any comics, but a TON of unicorn stuff. I went crazy. I don't actually have money to spend, but oops. I kind of went a little crazy in there. I'm not going to tell you how much damage I did, but let's just say it's been a while since I've spent that much money on myself (or any money at all, really). I went insane buying unicorn pins, magnets, socks, gloves, and the most amazing unicorn ugly Christmas sweater I've ever seen. I wasn't going to buy it at first, because money, but after I checked out with my pins galore, I KNEW I'd regret it if I didn't buy it. So I got back in line and purchased it. I'm not regretting the hole in my pocket at all. Anyways, I had a blast hanging out with my friend and I'm so glad we were able to meet up. We spent about 3-4 hours just walking around Harvard Square and checking out shops and chatting, and totally lost track of time.
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| The most amazing ugly Christmas sweater EVER |
I didn't get much sleep last night, maybe an hour. I had trouble sleeping. So after I flew back home this morning, I spent most of the day sleeping. I had a really good weekend, but I struggled a lot with food today. You'd think my passion for Child Life, and my love for Wheelock in all of it's competitiveness would have motivated me for recovery. After all, I KNOW I can't be successful if I'm in my ED. And after a rough semester this Fall, I really need to do well in the Spring to pull my GPA back up (it was pretty good, but I'm pretty worried with this semester being so bad). But I kind of left Boston feeling kind of discouraged and more pulled to my eating disorder. Child Life is what I want to do, but it's competitive, and I'm nothing special when it comes to academics. Sure, I have a lot of volunteer hours and a lot of experience with kids, but I'm not confident that any of that will make me stand out. If I don't get into grad school, then what?
Thanksgiving... my thoughts, the bad, but the good as well
I was going to write a post about everything I hate about Thanksgiving, but I decided to go a different route. I don't particularly like thanksgiving, but that has a lot to do with my eating disorder. It's been a long time since I've spent a Thanksgiving with my family, and that has mostly to do with my eating disorder. My eating disorder gets in the way of me enjoying things like this with my family. It causes great anxiety around food and people, and especially when you put the two together.
Over the last two years, I've overcome my battle of being able to eat with my immediate family, for a long time I couldn't even be seen with food around them. If I went to the grocery store, I'd shove the food in my purse until I got up to my room where I could hide it from my family. I cooked in my room using a toaster oven, and ate in my room. Never did I think I'd be able to eat in front of people. I've even overcome barriers about eating in front of strangers (although I still have a lot of anxiety around it, and prefer to eat in my car). But something about eating with my relatives, especially on a holiday, is still really hard for me. I can't wrap my mind around doing it, or even why I have such great anxiety with doing it.
Maybe if it was just one person, or two, I'd be okay with it. But I feel like when my eating disorder became apparent to the rest of my family, it was such an awkward experience. I felt like people were watching everything I ate with a critical eye. And even though I'm much healthier, physically, now, I still wonder what goes through people's minds when they see me eat. "Is she going to eat that?" "Why isn't she eating x?" "Wow, that's a lot of z!" "She doesn't eat like she has an eating disorder." All these things, I don't know why they matter, but it makes me super anxious to be around my family and food at the same time.
It's been years since I've spent Thanksgiving with my family.
2008 - Our house. I was working for most of it, but came home for dinner. I remember being called fat at the dinner table (not in those exact words), and purging afterwards (not because of the comment, but because I was pretty in my ED at this time).
2009 - Deep in my ED. Thanksgiving was at my relatives house. I stayed home because I was too sick and emaciated, and was afraid of what people would say to me. This was about a week before I went into treatment for the first time.
2010 - At our house. I remember engaging with my cousins when they first came. But someone asked me if I was going to eat thanksgiving with them and I said no, and they replied that they guessed that. I remember spending the rest of thanksgiving in my room except when I had to come out for family pictures. I also remember scouting the house for food to binge and purge on when my family was out paintballing.
2011 - I was in Texas, I remember crying in Texas because I knew I would never spend another holiday with my family, because I was so deep in my ED at that time, and that made me sad because I love my family.
2012 - At our house. I remember stacking suitcases and a table up against my door and keeping the lights off and playing depressing music to tune out what was going on downstairs. I kept my door blocked because I was terrified someone was going to come in and see me, to see my existence in general.
2013 - I believe it was at my relatives house. I spent it at home, again. I don't remember too much about this thanksgiving, other than that I was deep in my ED, and my therapist said I spent a session crying about how I would have liked to have been able to spend it with my family. About a month before going into treatment for a second time (which pretty much changed my life for the better).
2014 - Much better year, but still to scared to celebrate with my family. It was at our house this year. I spent thanksgiving in VA with my friend, but I had also made a goal with my therapist that I would engage with my family at least once while they were over. And I did. I tried to say hi to most of my family, and I chatted with my cousins for a little bit. It was a stretch, but a huge success for me. I'd avoided my family for years, and to actually be able to talk to them, and not have them avoid me felt amazing.
2015 - This Thanksgiving. I'm not where I was last year. My family is in West Virginia with my family celebrating. I wish I had had the courage to go. I think if it was just one day, I could have done it. I did have commitments, but to be honest I could have gotten out of them. I'm sad that I'm still not in a place where I feel like I can enjoy the holidays with my family, as those are some of my best memories from when I was younger. I'm scared that I'll never come to a point where I'll be able to celebrate with them. Even if I do, I feel like I've broken strong relationships that I used to have, and that holidays with my family will never be what they were.
But for the good.... I have a lot to be thankful for. This list may come across as slightly silly, but all the things I'm thankful for I truly am.
Over the last two years, I've overcome my battle of being able to eat with my immediate family, for a long time I couldn't even be seen with food around them. If I went to the grocery store, I'd shove the food in my purse until I got up to my room where I could hide it from my family. I cooked in my room using a toaster oven, and ate in my room. Never did I think I'd be able to eat in front of people. I've even overcome barriers about eating in front of strangers (although I still have a lot of anxiety around it, and prefer to eat in my car). But something about eating with my relatives, especially on a holiday, is still really hard for me. I can't wrap my mind around doing it, or even why I have such great anxiety with doing it.
Maybe if it was just one person, or two, I'd be okay with it. But I feel like when my eating disorder became apparent to the rest of my family, it was such an awkward experience. I felt like people were watching everything I ate with a critical eye. And even though I'm much healthier, physically, now, I still wonder what goes through people's minds when they see me eat. "Is she going to eat that?" "Why isn't she eating x?" "Wow, that's a lot of z!" "She doesn't eat like she has an eating disorder." All these things, I don't know why they matter, but it makes me super anxious to be around my family and food at the same time.
It's been years since I've spent Thanksgiving with my family.
2008 - Our house. I was working for most of it, but came home for dinner. I remember being called fat at the dinner table (not in those exact words), and purging afterwards (not because of the comment, but because I was pretty in my ED at this time).
2009 - Deep in my ED. Thanksgiving was at my relatives house. I stayed home because I was too sick and emaciated, and was afraid of what people would say to me. This was about a week before I went into treatment for the first time.
2010 - At our house. I remember engaging with my cousins when they first came. But someone asked me if I was going to eat thanksgiving with them and I said no, and they replied that they guessed that. I remember spending the rest of thanksgiving in my room except when I had to come out for family pictures. I also remember scouting the house for food to binge and purge on when my family was out paintballing.
2011 - I was in Texas, I remember crying in Texas because I knew I would never spend another holiday with my family, because I was so deep in my ED at that time, and that made me sad because I love my family.
2012 - At our house. I remember stacking suitcases and a table up against my door and keeping the lights off and playing depressing music to tune out what was going on downstairs. I kept my door blocked because I was terrified someone was going to come in and see me, to see my existence in general.
2013 - I believe it was at my relatives house. I spent it at home, again. I don't remember too much about this thanksgiving, other than that I was deep in my ED, and my therapist said I spent a session crying about how I would have liked to have been able to spend it with my family. About a month before going into treatment for a second time (which pretty much changed my life for the better).
2014 - Much better year, but still to scared to celebrate with my family. It was at our house this year. I spent thanksgiving in VA with my friend, but I had also made a goal with my therapist that I would engage with my family at least once while they were over. And I did. I tried to say hi to most of my family, and I chatted with my cousins for a little bit. It was a stretch, but a huge success for me. I'd avoided my family for years, and to actually be able to talk to them, and not have them avoid me felt amazing.
2015 - This Thanksgiving. I'm not where I was last year. My family is in West Virginia with my family celebrating. I wish I had had the courage to go. I think if it was just one day, I could have done it. I did have commitments, but to be honest I could have gotten out of them. I'm sad that I'm still not in a place where I feel like I can enjoy the holidays with my family, as those are some of my best memories from when I was younger. I'm scared that I'll never come to a point where I'll be able to celebrate with them. Even if I do, I feel like I've broken strong relationships that I used to have, and that holidays with my family will never be what they were.
But for the good.... I have a lot to be thankful for. This list may come across as slightly silly, but all the things I'm thankful for I truly am.
- God. I'm learning to love God more and more everyday, and see His love for me. I know God created me with a purpose, and that purpose is beyond my eating disorder. I'm grateful that I have a God that will love me regardless of what I do, and will continue to fight this battle with me if I let him.
- Unicorns. Unicorns have a very stable place in my heart and always will. They've given me something to be passionate about, to bring me joy. Anything unicorn related always lights up my heart.
- Pumpkin. I'm thankful that this year I've actually been able to try a lot of the pumpkin products that I was once too terrified to try.
- My family. They've been there for me through so much. Even after years of shutting them away from me, they still love and support me.
- Coffee. I love love love coffee. I don't drink it much anymore, because a lot of times it reminds me of the darkness of my eating disorder. But when I'm drinking it (and following my meal plan), it makes me feel warm and comforted.
- Natty and Boh. My two sweet dogs. I love everything about them. They make me feel not alone and comforted, they bring me joy, and give me someone to love.
Feeling really pessimistic about recovery, lots of shit talk, so read with caution
I'm feeling very torn between wanting to recover and wanting to run back to my ED. There's like a small sliver of me that wants to recover, and that's the part of me that wants a future, to be self-sufficient, to not have to rely on my parents for everything, to work with kids, to be an inspiration for others, to be joyful, to live for God. But right now, most of me wants none of that. I feel really defeated. Like I can do the actions of recovery, but I hate every single part of it. I hate giving up a huge chunk of my life. Something that has kept me so safe, yet miserable at the same time.
Do I like living in misery? That's such a silly question. No, but yes. I don't know why, that makes no sense. When I'm in my eating disorder and living in misery, it's like a bubble that keeps me sheltered from everything else. I don't want to be happy. I do, but I don't. Everything is so confusing. I don't want anything to do with recovery, yet I'm doing all these things to seek help. I want to touch it, but dare I? It's terrifying to get anywhere close to.
It's not just gaining weight or not losing weight or eating that's hard, it's letting go of my eating disorder, my world I live in. I would love to just eat food and not have these evil thoughts running through my head. Gaining weight freaks me out, not because I think I'm getting fat (although those thoughts run through my mind as the weight steadily increases), it's knowing that I'm losing a big part of myself.
Tonight my dietitian basically told me that I have no excuse not to meet my minimum caloric requirements, that I HAVE to supplement if I'm below my minimum. But you know what, I don't want to. I don't want recovery anymore because it sucks. It's not even about not wanting to gain weight or losing weight or eating. I just want to be miserable in my eating disorder and not let it go. Fuck recovery, that shit blows. In fact, my eating disorder can kill me and I wouldn't give a shit. Because I'd be dead.
I don't know why I'm doing all these recovery oriented things. Because I don't want it, not fully. I'm so tempted to just cancel everything, and crawl back into my eating disordered life. And fucking "waste away" until I die.
Excuse my language. I'm angry. I don't know why. I guess I'm angry because everything that I am is basically being taken away from me and I'm not ready for it.
Do I like living in misery? That's such a silly question. No, but yes. I don't know why, that makes no sense. When I'm in my eating disorder and living in misery, it's like a bubble that keeps me sheltered from everything else. I don't want to be happy. I do, but I don't. Everything is so confusing. I don't want anything to do with recovery, yet I'm doing all these things to seek help. I want to touch it, but dare I? It's terrifying to get anywhere close to.
It's not just gaining weight or not losing weight or eating that's hard, it's letting go of my eating disorder, my world I live in. I would love to just eat food and not have these evil thoughts running through my head. Gaining weight freaks me out, not because I think I'm getting fat (although those thoughts run through my mind as the weight steadily increases), it's knowing that I'm losing a big part of myself.
Tonight my dietitian basically told me that I have no excuse not to meet my minimum caloric requirements, that I HAVE to supplement if I'm below my minimum. But you know what, I don't want to. I don't want recovery anymore because it sucks. It's not even about not wanting to gain weight or losing weight or eating. I just want to be miserable in my eating disorder and not let it go. Fuck recovery, that shit blows. In fact, my eating disorder can kill me and I wouldn't give a shit. Because I'd be dead.
I don't know why I'm doing all these recovery oriented things. Because I don't want it, not fully. I'm so tempted to just cancel everything, and crawl back into my eating disordered life. And fucking "waste away" until I die.
Excuse my language. I'm angry. I don't know why. I guess I'm angry because everything that I am is basically being taken away from me and I'm not ready for it.
Am I Ready to Surrender Control of my Life to the Lord?
"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." -Romans 12:1-2I've been meeting with a leader on campus from Cru, and going through a booklet about life with God. Part of the booklet had the question, "Am I ready now to surrender control of my life to our Lord Jesus Christ?" along with the previous passage.
I've surrendered my life to God, but to surrender CONTROL of my life? That's totally different. I feel very lost and conflicted on this. I want to live my life for God, for His will. But part of that is surrendering my eating disorder to Him (which is so much easier said than done). I'm so scared of letting go of something that has controlled my life for so long. I want to be able to surrender control of my life to God, but I don't want to. I feel like I'm not ready. Like I can give Him pieces of my life, but not the whole thing. Losing my eating disorder is scary, for reasons I've previously posted about.
I was also listening to WGTS (91.9) and there was a song by Casting Crowns called Thrive, where they talk about how we were made for more than ordinary life and more than just surviving, but to thrive. And without God, I can't do that. I'm not thriving. I'm living through the motions of life, but I'm not living for God, which God calls us to do.
Why am I even doing this?
Why am I wasting my time? Why am I going through all of this? Why am I doing therapy, counseling, nutrition, art therapy, dine, seeing my physician and psychiatrist? Do I really want to get better? Because a big part of me says no. Am I really trying? Some days, maybe. But other days, no. I feel like I take a couple of steps closer to recovery, freak out, and slide back. Recovery terrifies me. I don't know if I want it. I mean, a part of me does, I want a future, a career. But what if all that fails? What will I be without my eating disorder? There's only a small sliver of me that wants to get better, and that's the part of me that loves spending time with my family and craves connection, the part of me that wants to be a child life specialist. But the rest of me says "screw it." Life is easier to deal with while in my eating disorder. I mean, not really, it's harder. But it masks everything and makes the world about my eating disorder, where nothing else matters. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm wasting time and money, and everyone else's time. Really all I want to do is stay out of treatment, because I don't have time for that. And I don't want to disappoint my family. I want to live a functional life with my eating disorder, if that's even possible. But recovery? That's so far-fetched. I want to go back to feeling like a zombie, living on coffee and safe foods, numbing out the world, feeling invisible. Why am I half-assing recovery, when I don't even know if I really want it?
The Media.... Oh Boy
On Wednesday, in my Psychology of Women class, we talked about women and mental health, including eating disorders. They showed the following video...
...and basically the entire lecture is how the media is the biggest contributor to eating disorders.
Ugh. I strongly disagree. I never gave a shit about the media (pardon my language). I don't think I've ever compared my body to those in the media, or strived to look like someone in a magazine. Most of my body image problems in adolescents were influenced by my family's own body issues (my brothers were wrestlers, I was strongly influenced by my parents dieting and comments about bodies in general, etc.). That's not to say my family caused my eating disorder in any way, but my body image issues stemmed from my family.
It's not to say that the media doesn't influence girls at a young age, but I don't think it's a big predictor of an eating disorder. It may lay the groundwork for some insecurities. But never in treatment have I met someone who's eating disorder was caused by body image issues and the media. There are a lot of contributing factors to an eating disorder - psychological, environmental, genetics. They all play a role.
While body image was a big issue for me when I was in my early teens, I don't think that was the main cause of my disordered eating (however, I can't say it didn't contribute to the way my problems manifested). I think a lot of it had to do with low self esteem, not fitting in with my peers, low self-worth, and the changes I was going through during that time (physically, emotionally, and mentally).
But my eating disorder really spiraled after my family's trauma. Trauma is a huge contributing factor for many people's eating disorders (not all, but that's been a huge theme in treatment that I've seen). I wish my professor would have touched more on not necessarily every single contributing factor to eating disorders (because they're infinite - everyone's eating disorder starts differently), but on the fact that they're complex, and so many factors come together to start an eating disorder and maintain one.
I think talking about the media and eating disorders oversimplifies an eating disorder, and makes it seem like it's an easy fix. Just change the way the media portrays women, or boost your daughter's body image, and we can eliminate eating disorders? Nope. Again, that's not to say the media isn't a problem, and that it can't lay the groundwork for body image problems in young girls. But there's a huge difference between having bad body image (who doesn't?) and developing an eating disorder.
...and basically the entire lecture is how the media is the biggest contributor to eating disorders.
Ugh. I strongly disagree. I never gave a shit about the media (pardon my language). I don't think I've ever compared my body to those in the media, or strived to look like someone in a magazine. Most of my body image problems in adolescents were influenced by my family's own body issues (my brothers were wrestlers, I was strongly influenced by my parents dieting and comments about bodies in general, etc.). That's not to say my family caused my eating disorder in any way, but my body image issues stemmed from my family.
It's not to say that the media doesn't influence girls at a young age, but I don't think it's a big predictor of an eating disorder. It may lay the groundwork for some insecurities. But never in treatment have I met someone who's eating disorder was caused by body image issues and the media. There are a lot of contributing factors to an eating disorder - psychological, environmental, genetics. They all play a role.
While body image was a big issue for me when I was in my early teens, I don't think that was the main cause of my disordered eating (however, I can't say it didn't contribute to the way my problems manifested). I think a lot of it had to do with low self esteem, not fitting in with my peers, low self-worth, and the changes I was going through during that time (physically, emotionally, and mentally).
But my eating disorder really spiraled after my family's trauma. Trauma is a huge contributing factor for many people's eating disorders (not all, but that's been a huge theme in treatment that I've seen). I wish my professor would have touched more on not necessarily every single contributing factor to eating disorders (because they're infinite - everyone's eating disorder starts differently), but on the fact that they're complex, and so many factors come together to start an eating disorder and maintain one.
I think talking about the media and eating disorders oversimplifies an eating disorder, and makes it seem like it's an easy fix. Just change the way the media portrays women, or boost your daughter's body image, and we can eliminate eating disorders? Nope. Again, that's not to say the media isn't a problem, and that it can't lay the groundwork for body image problems in young girls. But there's a huge difference between having bad body image (who doesn't?) and developing an eating disorder.
Unicorns and my Recovery
Had to...
My obsession with unicorns began around the age of 17. A little bit after the time that Jesse died. I think it was a way for me to take my mind off of the tough things in life and channel it into something else. I was also struggling with my ED at this time, but unicorns was another outlet, something that brought joy, something that I could focus all my attention on, something that I could use to relate to other people. For instance, I remember buying these awesome unicorn converse (which I no longer own :(. ), and it being the cool thing that I'd go around sharing with my cousins. "Look at these awesome shoes." And I'd get validation, that they were in fact pretty awesome.
Like my eating disorder, my unicorn obsession filled a void. It also served many purposes similar to my eating disorder. For one, it gives me an identity. Everyone on social media (facebook, tumblr, instagram, etc.) and real life knows me as the unicorn obsessed girl. People are constantly posting unicorn pics, quotes, things to buy, etc., on my facebook wall. I'm known for being obsessed with unicorns by others, but also by myself. I KNOW I'm the unique one with the unicorn obsession.
Along with that, it's something that's MINE. I'm the unicorn obsessed. I get defensive and dominate over it. If someone else expresses interest in unicorns, I immediately get angry, because unicorns is my thing. I have control over it. And I feel like if someone else gets excited over unicorns, they're taking something important away from me. People know me for my obsession, and they know it's mine.
Like my eating disorder, it's also something that controls my thoughts, but in a more positive way. I'm constantly thinking about unicorns (when I'm not in my eating disorder). I could spend hours (I have) looking up unicorn paraphernalia online. I have an entire unicorn board on Pinterest. It's something I can use to take my mind off of the things that I don't want to think about.
But unlike my eating disorder, it brings something else. It brings me passion, and joy. It keeps me lighthearted. It adds fun to my life. I enjoy thinking about unicorns, and posting my cool new unicorn gear, and bragging about how much unicorn stuff I have. It keeps me connected to people, because it gives us something to talk about. Unicorns was kind of a hot topic in my old house.
So how does this all relate to my recovery? I think it serves the purpose that I can find other ways to have an identity outside of my eating disorder, unicorns being a big one. I can focus on my obsession with unicorns as something that's mine, instead of feeling possessive of my eating disorder. It's something I can rear my mind to when I want to avoid the tough feelings (which I do have to deal with eventually). It can keep me connected to people. And it can feed my happiness and help me to not dwell on the unpleasant things in life.
Fears vs. Benefits of Recovery
My dietitian gave me an assignment to write out my fears of recovery, and the benefits of recovery. I had no problem coming up with a list of fears (although while they're all different, some may seem really similar), but I struggled with making a list of benefits.
Here are the lists.
Fears of Recovery
Here are the lists.
Fears of Recovery
- Being weight restored and still having all my ED thoughts and behaviors (e.g. obsessive compulsive behaviors around food, anxiety or avoidance of eating around people, constantly obsessing over what I'm going to eat, etc.)
- Being recovered from my ED, but still having all my other problems & not being able to cope with them.
- Losing my identity - not knowing who I am without my ED, or feeling unique/different.
- Feeling valueless
- Fear that I'll do all the work and fail at recovery, and that I'll do all the work for nothing.
- All the emotions that I numb out with my ED coming at me with full force.
- Not having it as a safety net or back up plan - doing poorly in school, not being able to be self-sufficient, not doing well in my career, being alone.
- Not feeling loved by my family, losing their emotional support.
- Not getting attention from my family.
- Not having something that's MINE, that I have complete control over.
- Being alone and rejected and feeling worthless; with my ED, none of that matters.
- Dealing with things in the big world - my ED makes me only have to deal with one simple thing - my ED.
- Dealing with responsibilities of growing up that I've been able to avoid.
- Being independent - as much as I know independence is a good thing, I don't feel equipped for it. And I was independent most of my life, and I feel like I missed out on being dependent.
- Not being cared for/about
- Losing my community of friends who get what I'm going through and support me - all my "friends" are from treatment. Not making real friends.
- Not being able to handle life outside of my ED.
- Feeling like nothing because I don't have my ED.
- Not having the structure, rigidity, routine my ED brings me.
- Not being able to celebrate holidays with my family, because my ED has made things incredibly scary and awkward with them.
- Not being controlled by my ED, feeling free.
- Experiencing positive emotions - but that also scares me, because you can't have the good without the bad.
- Having energy to do well in school and volunteering.
- Thinking clearly.
- Being physically healthy (which also scares me - see list above)
- Being able to enjoy meals with my family.
- Participating in holidays and vacations with my family.
- Not isolating all the time.
- Future - grad school, career, maybe a family.
- Being able to tell my story and give hope to others.
- Maybe being able to make friends, and actually enjoy being with other people.
- Not being tired all the time.
- Not being a financial and emotional burden on my family.
- Maybe being able to find things I enjoy - but also scares me because what if I don't?
Alexa Penavega's Dancing with the Star's Representation of Bulimia
Art Therapy: Body Tracing
I don't think I have body image issues. I hate that I have a body and that I have to think about and take care of and deal with it, but I don't think I'm fat. I don't like my body, or having a body, but I've kind of accepted that it's always going to be that way.
Yesterday I had art therapy and we did a body tracing. I was reluctant, because my fear was that I was going to draw my body and then she was going to trace it, and it was going to be totally bigger than I thought. We decided that I wasn't going to draw my body, but instead she'd trace it and we'd go forward from there.
Yesterday I had art therapy and we did a body tracing. I was reluctant, because my fear was that I was going to draw my body and then she was going to trace it, and it was going to be totally bigger than I thought. We decided that I wasn't going to draw my body, but instead she'd trace it and we'd go forward from there.
When I think of body tracings, my initial thought is most people think they're bigger than they are, and it's this big awakening moment where they find out that their body takes up less space than it actually does. That's not what happened for me. My body looked kind of like I expected it to, which was disappointing.
I don't think I'm fat, but I don't think I'm small. I think I'm average. I've been told that I'm small, and I wanted the image I saw to reflect what I've been told, or what my weight says. But it didn't. It was just an average body, with big hips and stubby legs. But I knew that I have stubby legs and big hips. I've been told that I have "child bearing hips" and I come from a family with short legs and big calves. Just to reiterate, I was disappointed that it wasn't a shocking moment where I was like "oh, I actually am small."
But enough about my body. After we did the whole point out what you like/dislike about your body thing, we did some collaging. I'm not sure what exactly I was supposed to do, but when I asked for clarification, she told me to do what I felt inclined to do. Basically I collaged the body with images that I felt represented different parts of my body, or emotions I felt in different parts of my body or in my head things that I thought about a lot.
The themes that came up were anger, death, anxiety, and I can't remember what else. I wish I had taken a picture so I could remember. She asked me about anger and if I feel anger a lot, and I told her I do, towards a lot of people. I feel like I'm filled with anger. I've worked a lot on managing my anger and taming it, and not expressing it physically. But it's still there, and sometimes it manifests itself as hurt, or hate towards myself.
I think next week we're going to do work on anger have, but I'm not really sure what that's going to look like.
Why is it truly so hard to let go of my eating disorder?
I feel so stuck in my eating disorder right now. Conflicted between wanting to get better, while still grasping so tightly to my eating disorder. Right now the grasp is tighter than the pull to recovery. Over the months, I've made a list of things that are holding me so tightly to my eating disorder. I feel like there’s so much more tied into my eating disorder than just food and body image (and right now body image isn’t that big of a factor for me anyways). But I feel like I get the food aspect of things under control, and then everything else is still there, and actually gets bigger because I don’t have my eating disorder to help anymore. Which in turn, pulls me back to my eating disorder. I've experienced this enough times, that it makes it scary to even take the steps to let go, because I don't want to be free of my eating disorder completely or even a little bit, because the drivers are still there. And it's so scary to live without my eating disorder.
I made a list of functions of my eating disorder (I always think of more, so this is a shortened version of it.):
It gives me an identity, makes me feel like someone when I don’t feel like I have any value in this world.
Along with the above, it makes me unique, and different.
Emotion numbing/avoidance - feelings of shame, anger, worthlessness, like I don’t belong, unlovable, etc.
It’s what I know best, it’s comfortable.
It’s a safety net - when I feel hopeless about everything in my life, and fear of failure, at least I have my eating disorder to keep me safe.
It helps me feel like I am loved by my family. And even by others who are helping me in the healing process.
Attention - I didn’t get attention when I was younger or in my teens (at least the attention I needed - when it was most important), and my eating disorder helps give me that.
Feeling like it’s mine, I own it, I can control it.
Worthlessness - feeling like I’m undeserving of love and affection, like I’m nobody, like I can’t keep connections.
Keeps me safe from being rejected, because it keeps me isolated from everyone.
Makes my world small - I can’t deal with everything in the big world, and when I’m so focused on my eating disorder, that’s all that matters.
Channeling my negative emotions on myself.
Structure, rigidity, routine, when everything else is chaotic.
Avoiding responsibility - not wanting to grow up, stay young, and be cared for like a child.
Community of friends who get what I'm going through, and are supportive of me.
I know all these things seem trivial, but they're real and big to me. It's scary to let go of something that's been a huge safety net for me in the past.
I made a list of functions of my eating disorder (I always think of more, so this is a shortened version of it.):
It gives me an identity, makes me feel like someone when I don’t feel like I have any value in this world.
Along with the above, it makes me unique, and different.
Emotion numbing/avoidance - feelings of shame, anger, worthlessness, like I don’t belong, unlovable, etc.
It’s what I know best, it’s comfortable.
It’s a safety net - when I feel hopeless about everything in my life, and fear of failure, at least I have my eating disorder to keep me safe.
It helps me feel like I am loved by my family. And even by others who are helping me in the healing process.
Attention - I didn’t get attention when I was younger or in my teens (at least the attention I needed - when it was most important), and my eating disorder helps give me that.
Feeling like it’s mine, I own it, I can control it.
Worthlessness - feeling like I’m undeserving of love and affection, like I’m nobody, like I can’t keep connections.
Keeps me safe from being rejected, because it keeps me isolated from everyone.
Makes my world small - I can’t deal with everything in the big world, and when I’m so focused on my eating disorder, that’s all that matters.
Channeling my negative emotions on myself.
Structure, rigidity, routine, when everything else is chaotic.
Avoiding responsibility - not wanting to grow up, stay young, and be cared for like a child.
Community of friends who get what I'm going through, and are supportive of me.
I know all these things seem trivial, but they're real and big to me. It's scary to let go of something that's been a huge safety net for me in the past.
Dietitian Appointment (trigger warning, no numbers)
I had my appointment with my dietitian last night, and it was really challenging (they're all really challenging, but this one was particularly challenging). I've only seen my new dietitian 3 times, but she really challenges me and is hard on me (but it super nice at the same time), which I need.
I had struggled since the last appointment (typical), and have lost a fair bit of weight (ongoing, but she was pretty concerned about the drop this week). She kept telling me that I could be in a hospital right now. Of course I fought her and told her I'd been at much lower weights and still hadn't been hospitalized. She told me how eating disorders are scary and aren't like other illnesses such as cancer where you may have some anticipation of death occurring. In EDs, your body is resilient, but only up to a point. I've battled my eating disorder for a long time, and have lost weight, gained it back, lost weight, gained it back, etc. She told me how at any point my body could just start shutting down, even if my labs are fine. That I could just have a heart attack.
Part of me knows this, I've known plenty of people in treatment who have died from their ED. And that's not an exaggeration. On one hand, it's scary to think about. My body has been resilient. I've put it through years of damage, but my body has been faithful to me. But she's right, people CAN die from their ED at any point. On one hand, I want that to be scary to me. But it's not. I keep thinking I'm invincible, my body won't shut down on me, it can't. Or who cares? My life is pointless anyways, I'm not making progress, I have no purpose in this world, so why does it matter? I've thought about suicide a lot, but dying from an eating disorder, in a very sick way, is much more appeasing to me than committing suicide. So, so what if it kills me.
I didn't share those thoughts with her (although looking back maybe I should have?), but we did talk a lot about it. She has a caloric goal for me to hit every week (which isn't high given the meal plans I've been on in treatment, but is still scary for me to think about reaching), and I have been able to meet it a couple of times. But there's so much fear and guilt in letting go and giving recovery 100%. I'm scared of gaining weight, yes, but what's even more terrifying is giving up my eating disorder.
She told me if I dropped anymore weight she'd have to put me on supplements. She didn't mean it as a threat, and I didn't take it as one. More like, so what? I'm so conflicted right now in terms of recovery. I want it, but I don't. I'm sure that makes perfect sense to someone struggling with an eating disorder, but sounds pretty confusing if you don't struggle with addiction of some sort. Maybe you get it, I don't know.
On a happy note, today I met my caloric goal. I feel like crap because of it, my ED is screaming loudly at me. But I did something good, I guess. Even though it doesn't feel like it.
I had struggled since the last appointment (typical), and have lost a fair bit of weight (ongoing, but she was pretty concerned about the drop this week). She kept telling me that I could be in a hospital right now. Of course I fought her and told her I'd been at much lower weights and still hadn't been hospitalized. She told me how eating disorders are scary and aren't like other illnesses such as cancer where you may have some anticipation of death occurring. In EDs, your body is resilient, but only up to a point. I've battled my eating disorder for a long time, and have lost weight, gained it back, lost weight, gained it back, etc. She told me how at any point my body could just start shutting down, even if my labs are fine. That I could just have a heart attack.
Part of me knows this, I've known plenty of people in treatment who have died from their ED. And that's not an exaggeration. On one hand, it's scary to think about. My body has been resilient. I've put it through years of damage, but my body has been faithful to me. But she's right, people CAN die from their ED at any point. On one hand, I want that to be scary to me. But it's not. I keep thinking I'm invincible, my body won't shut down on me, it can't. Or who cares? My life is pointless anyways, I'm not making progress, I have no purpose in this world, so why does it matter? I've thought about suicide a lot, but dying from an eating disorder, in a very sick way, is much more appeasing to me than committing suicide. So, so what if it kills me.
I didn't share those thoughts with her (although looking back maybe I should have?), but we did talk a lot about it. She has a caloric goal for me to hit every week (which isn't high given the meal plans I've been on in treatment, but is still scary for me to think about reaching), and I have been able to meet it a couple of times. But there's so much fear and guilt in letting go and giving recovery 100%. I'm scared of gaining weight, yes, but what's even more terrifying is giving up my eating disorder.
She told me if I dropped anymore weight she'd have to put me on supplements. She didn't mean it as a threat, and I didn't take it as one. More like, so what? I'm so conflicted right now in terms of recovery. I want it, but I don't. I'm sure that makes perfect sense to someone struggling with an eating disorder, but sounds pretty confusing if you don't struggle with addiction of some sort. Maybe you get it, I don't know.
On a happy note, today I met my caloric goal. I feel like crap because of it, my ED is screaming loudly at me. But I did something good, I guess. Even though it doesn't feel like it.
A lot to update on
It's been a while since I've made a post (at least it feels like it). A lot has been going on, and I haven't really known where to start.
I guess first things first, I'm moving back home at the end of the week. I don't want to get into details (but you're welcome to ask me personally), but living situation I currently am has not been healthy for my physical or mental health lately. As my therapist would put it, it's "toxic" for me. I think the word choice was a little harsh, but I have to degree. My mental and physical state has declined. I can't blame it all on housing, but a lot of the things going on in our house have contributed to the stress and overwhelming thoughts and triggers that have been destructive towards my recovery. I'm anxious about moving home, but at the same time I'm hoping it may be a fresh start to get back on track. After all, I always feel good after visiting with my family.
I started seeing a new dietitian, Lindsey, who I've found tremendously helpful. She challenges me in ways I can't explain. For instance, she won't just take an answer from me and leave it at that, she tries to get me thinking. Example, I compulsively weigh myself, over 20x a day. She asked why I need to know the number that many times, and I told her it makes me feel less anxious about my weight. And she asks, "why?" And when I give an answer (or try to), she then asks again, "why?" She really challenges my thought process. She also doesn't go easy on me at all (but yet she's really encouraging at the same time). For instance, I did pretty bad last week in following my meal plan. There was one day I came close, but even then I didn't eat lunch. We talked about it for a while (like the whole session) while going over my logs, and she said that what I was doing was not acceptable. She knows it's hard, but she pushes me. She gave me a calorie range to aim for (because I'm so fixated on numbers, and the exchanges wasn't getting me far), and yesterday I actually met my goal! I don't know if I'm going to be able to do it again today, because I kind of freaked out over my weight. But at least I can say I did it once. And who knows, maybe I'll be able to do it again.
Therapy... well, to put it bluntly, my therapist wants me back in IP. I told her that wasn't going to happen, because I think I can do this on my own. But she's been very persistent about it. She then sent an email to my parents (and me) saying my entire team wanted me inpatient. I think I signed a release for her to talk to my parents, but still, I think that was a boundary she crossed. I'm not going IP, I don't need it, not now, and I think I can pull myself together. I decided I'm going to take a break from seeing Brenda for a while. Instead, I'm going to see a Christian counselor (she's not a therapist) because I think I need to try something new in terms of counseling/therapy, and I think faith needs to be a big part of my recovery. I'm not sure the frequency I'm going to see her, I'm still working that out with my parents. But I still have Brenda as a back up. She's going to see me once a month to check in with me and make sure I'm not back tracking and making some progress.
Finally, after lots of pressure from my team + advisor to withdrawal from the semester, I talked with my parents and we came to a compromise that I would drop 2 classes. I can technically only drop one class without withdrawing from the full semester (without a dean's exception), but my advisor thinks that with a medical note I'll get the exception. So my psychiatrist is working up a note for me to provide to the dean. The only downside is I'm not going to be graduating in December like I had hoped, but instead will be graduating in the Spring of 2016.
I think moving home, switching dietitians, change of pace with therapy/counseling, and dropping classes will really help in improving my current situation, mental, and physical.
I guess first things first, I'm moving back home at the end of the week. I don't want to get into details (but you're welcome to ask me personally), but living situation I currently am has not been healthy for my physical or mental health lately. As my therapist would put it, it's "toxic" for me. I think the word choice was a little harsh, but I have to degree. My mental and physical state has declined. I can't blame it all on housing, but a lot of the things going on in our house have contributed to the stress and overwhelming thoughts and triggers that have been destructive towards my recovery. I'm anxious about moving home, but at the same time I'm hoping it may be a fresh start to get back on track. After all, I always feel good after visiting with my family.
I started seeing a new dietitian, Lindsey, who I've found tremendously helpful. She challenges me in ways I can't explain. For instance, she won't just take an answer from me and leave it at that, she tries to get me thinking. Example, I compulsively weigh myself, over 20x a day. She asked why I need to know the number that many times, and I told her it makes me feel less anxious about my weight. And she asks, "why?" And when I give an answer (or try to), she then asks again, "why?" She really challenges my thought process. She also doesn't go easy on me at all (but yet she's really encouraging at the same time). For instance, I did pretty bad last week in following my meal plan. There was one day I came close, but even then I didn't eat lunch. We talked about it for a while (like the whole session) while going over my logs, and she said that what I was doing was not acceptable. She knows it's hard, but she pushes me. She gave me a calorie range to aim for (because I'm so fixated on numbers, and the exchanges wasn't getting me far), and yesterday I actually met my goal! I don't know if I'm going to be able to do it again today, because I kind of freaked out over my weight. But at least I can say I did it once. And who knows, maybe I'll be able to do it again.
Therapy... well, to put it bluntly, my therapist wants me back in IP. I told her that wasn't going to happen, because I think I can do this on my own. But she's been very persistent about it. She then sent an email to my parents (and me) saying my entire team wanted me inpatient. I think I signed a release for her to talk to my parents, but still, I think that was a boundary she crossed. I'm not going IP, I don't need it, not now, and I think I can pull myself together. I decided I'm going to take a break from seeing Brenda for a while. Instead, I'm going to see a Christian counselor (she's not a therapist) because I think I need to try something new in terms of counseling/therapy, and I think faith needs to be a big part of my recovery. I'm not sure the frequency I'm going to see her, I'm still working that out with my parents. But I still have Brenda as a back up. She's going to see me once a month to check in with me and make sure I'm not back tracking and making some progress.
Finally, after lots of pressure from my team + advisor to withdrawal from the semester, I talked with my parents and we came to a compromise that I would drop 2 classes. I can technically only drop one class without withdrawing from the full semester (without a dean's exception), but my advisor thinks that with a medical note I'll get the exception. So my psychiatrist is working up a note for me to provide to the dean. The only downside is I'm not going to be graduating in December like I had hoped, but instead will be graduating in the Spring of 2016.
I think moving home, switching dietitians, change of pace with therapy/counseling, and dropping classes will really help in improving my current situation, mental, and physical.
Got to Step It Up
I've talked a little about this situation I'm dealing with that's causing a lot of stress and is impacting my recovery negatively. I can't go into details about it, or even say what it is, but I'm a little relieved because if things aren't resolved I have a back up plan in place. And not only is the back up plan going to be helping me out, but also a friend.
I don't think I mentioned it, but I started working at Children's National Medical Center yesterday as a volunteer. Ironically, I was told that many of the patients on the unit struggle with eating disorders. I don't think it's going to affect me negatively, at least at this point, because we don't really talk about the condition with the patients. I think the only thing that's going to be hard is not being like "I know this is hard, I can relate," or telling them that they don't want to live like this because an eating disorder in adulthood is nothing to be proud of and is such a barrier to living your life. If it does become a problem, I think I'll ask to switch units. But I think it'll be okay.
I'm meeting with my advisor this coming week, and I'm going to talk to her about taking an incomplete in two of my classes. I haven't talked much about the whole academic side of things, but it's been so overwhelming, and I'm getting so far behind I can't keep up. I'm missing assignments, and while I have a note from my psychiatrist to accommodate me, I feel guilty relying on that. I want to talk to my advisor about the possibility of taking some incompletes, and maybe working for my dad in the spare time I have to help with appointments.
I'm also trying to get myself back on track, because right now I'm on a really slippery slope. I talk a lot about how conflicted I am about recovery, and I am conflicted. But in the long run (I need to stop thinking about the now), I want to have a life. I want to work and be self-sufficient, and I want to enjoy my job and my life. I want to have a house, and maybe even a family. I can't do any of that with my eating disorder. I'm working on structuring my treatment team more, and creating my own "treatment program" outpatient, so that I'm getting daily support.
Right now I'm seeing my therapist every other week (which I should be seeing her weekly), dietitian every other week (again, should be seeing weekly), psychiatrist 1-2x/month, and my PCP once a month, and Dine weekly.
I'm hoping to step up my therapy and dietitian schedule to once a week, keep the dine monte nido, psychiatry, and PCP in place, but also add art therapy every other week, and meet with a Christian therapist as needed. I wanted to replace my current therapist with the Christian one, but I'm nervous about leaving my current therapist because she has done a lot for me and is great at advocating for me. But I feel like my recovery from my eating disorder largely relies on faith, and I struggle a lot with that.
I don't know. All of this is going to be hard to fit in, but I'm just considering it, and how I'm going to pay for it. But I think working for my dad will be helpful because he's currently looking for a sale's person, and I think I could help him out in the meantime while making some money to pay for things that I want to be responsible for.
I don't think I mentioned it, but I started working at Children's National Medical Center yesterday as a volunteer. Ironically, I was told that many of the patients on the unit struggle with eating disorders. I don't think it's going to affect me negatively, at least at this point, because we don't really talk about the condition with the patients. I think the only thing that's going to be hard is not being like "I know this is hard, I can relate," or telling them that they don't want to live like this because an eating disorder in adulthood is nothing to be proud of and is such a barrier to living your life. If it does become a problem, I think I'll ask to switch units. But I think it'll be okay.
I'm meeting with my advisor this coming week, and I'm going to talk to her about taking an incomplete in two of my classes. I haven't talked much about the whole academic side of things, but it's been so overwhelming, and I'm getting so far behind I can't keep up. I'm missing assignments, and while I have a note from my psychiatrist to accommodate me, I feel guilty relying on that. I want to talk to my advisor about the possibility of taking some incompletes, and maybe working for my dad in the spare time I have to help with appointments.
I'm also trying to get myself back on track, because right now I'm on a really slippery slope. I talk a lot about how conflicted I am about recovery, and I am conflicted. But in the long run (I need to stop thinking about the now), I want to have a life. I want to work and be self-sufficient, and I want to enjoy my job and my life. I want to have a house, and maybe even a family. I can't do any of that with my eating disorder. I'm working on structuring my treatment team more, and creating my own "treatment program" outpatient, so that I'm getting daily support.
Right now I'm seeing my therapist every other week (which I should be seeing her weekly), dietitian every other week (again, should be seeing weekly), psychiatrist 1-2x/month, and my PCP once a month, and Dine weekly.
I'm hoping to step up my therapy and dietitian schedule to once a week, keep the dine monte nido, psychiatry, and PCP in place, but also add art therapy every other week, and meet with a Christian therapist as needed. I wanted to replace my current therapist with the Christian one, but I'm nervous about leaving my current therapist because she has done a lot for me and is great at advocating for me. But I feel like my recovery from my eating disorder largely relies on faith, and I struggle a lot with that.
I don't know. All of this is going to be hard to fit in, but I'm just considering it, and how I'm going to pay for it. But I think working for my dad will be helpful because he's currently looking for a sale's person, and I think I could help him out in the meantime while making some money to pay for things that I want to be responsible for.