"Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life." - J.K. Rowling
2011 has been the best year of my life. But it certainly did not start out that way. On February 10th, I had reached my rock bottom. I was malnourished, dehydrated, extremely sleep deprived, and suicidal. I was sick and tired of living. I didn't believe things would ever get better for me. And so, with a handful of sleeping pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other...I was about to end my life. Nothing was stopping me. But yet, something did stop me. For the longest time, I couldn't figure out what that was. There was no logical reason why I did not swallow those pills, for there was no sense of hope inside of me. Today, I strongly believe God had everything to do with me putting down those pills. Sounds strange maybe, but that is the only reason I can think of as to why I did not go through with killing myself that day. I went to my therapist the next day and admitted I needed more help than I was getting. And so I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. I spent the next five days there. On my fourth day, my parents told me the next day that I would be leaving and would be admitted to Remuda Ranch. I was relieved.
On February 15th, I started my stay at Remuda Ranch. I spent the next 45 days there. 30 days in a residential program, and 15 days in a step down program in Chandler, Arizona. I flew home to Virginia on March 31st.
The past 9 months have really flown by. But as they say, time flies when you are having fun! And since entering recovery, I have had so much fun enjoying life once again and learning to love myself. Recovery is not an easy task, nor does it happen overnight. It is not straight forward, it is not as simple as it sounds. But recovery is amazing, it is beautiful, it is about being able to laugh again, and smiling because I feel so good inside.
I have gained so much this year. New friendships being one. I formed lifelong friendships with the women I met in treatment. I have formed a sisterhood with them that can never be taken away.
I have a great support system around me, guiding me along the way with their never failing support. My therapist, dietitian, psychiatrist, support group, Mrs. Robson, my friend Karen, and my friend Kathleen.
I have a faith in God that He will be there for me every step of the way.
I have the most amazing job in the world. The family I nanny for makes me smile more than anyone else.
Among other things, I have gained HOPE. TRUST. FAITH. LOVE FOR MYSELF. HAPPINESS. PEACE. COMFORT. SAFETY. MOTIVATION. STRENGTH. A NEW LIFE.
I have restored my soul.
I am sad to see 2011 go, for it brought so many great and amazing people and experiences into my life. But 2012, and the years to follow, will be filled with so many other great things. I am so excited for my future.
THANK YOU 2011!
YOU HAVE BEEN AWESOME!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Almost time for 2012
Well, I think I have a lot to catch up on.
Yesterday my friend Erin came to visit. It was SO good to see her! When she got here we went shopping at the big mall and then went out to dinner at Brio with my dad, sister, and my sister's boyfriend. Dinner was really yummy! It was worth the 45 minutes we had to wait. I was sitting on a couch and this really strange woman was practically sitting on top of me and constantly fidgeting. It was REALLY annoying.
Anyway, after dinner we came back to my house and watched Bridesmaids. Oh my goodness, if you have not watched this, please go see it right now. I literally peed in my pants I was laughing so hard. It was hilarious! Erin and I stayed up for a couple more hours watching The Simple Life with Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton. I hadn't watched it in forever and I forgot how funny that show was.
We got up at 11 this morning, because I had a psychiatrist appointment I had to go to, and I really didn't want to drag her to that. So she drove back home to Maryland. I'm sad our visit was so short, but I know we will see each other again soon!
My psychiatrist appointment was...interesting. I was sitting in the waiting room and I just felt this very profound sense of sadness. I really wasn't sure where it was coming from or why it came on so suddenly. When my psychiatrist called me back he could tell right away that something was going on. I just updated him on all the family drama and money problems, and then I admitted to him that lately, meaning the past 3-4 weeks, I have missed my eating disorder. I have found myself fantasizing about it almost every day. And I have not been doing that great with breakfast. And then I talked about how this cold weather is reminding me of the physical and emotional state I was in a year ago. Full blown relapse, severely depressed, suicidal, cutting all over myself, no sleep, no sense of happiness or safety, an unhealthy relationship, medical issues, etc. I feel like I'm reliving all of that again. Except, I'm really not. But I think last year was really traumatizing and I am terrified when I think about that. I'm not really sure what to do with these feelings, except feel them. Which is really hard right now. So, anyway I was telling my psychiatrist this and I felt the tears. And it was crazy because I've never cried in front of him before, not in my 6 years of seeing him. And I was like, "Oh shit" and he knew I was crying. It was just...interesting, but good I guess.
Anyway, so tomorrow I see my therapist. I can't wait to give her the CD I made her. I hope she likes it. And then I am supposed to have lunch with my second mom, although she hasn't texted me back to confirm it. And then I am meeting up with my friend Karen after that. It should be a good day.
Anyway, that's all for now.
Yesterday my friend Erin came to visit. It was SO good to see her! When she got here we went shopping at the big mall and then went out to dinner at Brio with my dad, sister, and my sister's boyfriend. Dinner was really yummy! It was worth the 45 minutes we had to wait. I was sitting on a couch and this really strange woman was practically sitting on top of me and constantly fidgeting. It was REALLY annoying.
Anyway, after dinner we came back to my house and watched Bridesmaids. Oh my goodness, if you have not watched this, please go see it right now. I literally peed in my pants I was laughing so hard. It was hilarious! Erin and I stayed up for a couple more hours watching The Simple Life with Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton. I hadn't watched it in forever and I forgot how funny that show was.
We got up at 11 this morning, because I had a psychiatrist appointment I had to go to, and I really didn't want to drag her to that. So she drove back home to Maryland. I'm sad our visit was so short, but I know we will see each other again soon!
My psychiatrist appointment was...interesting. I was sitting in the waiting room and I just felt this very profound sense of sadness. I really wasn't sure where it was coming from or why it came on so suddenly. When my psychiatrist called me back he could tell right away that something was going on. I just updated him on all the family drama and money problems, and then I admitted to him that lately, meaning the past 3-4 weeks, I have missed my eating disorder. I have found myself fantasizing about it almost every day. And I have not been doing that great with breakfast. And then I talked about how this cold weather is reminding me of the physical and emotional state I was in a year ago. Full blown relapse, severely depressed, suicidal, cutting all over myself, no sleep, no sense of happiness or safety, an unhealthy relationship, medical issues, etc. I feel like I'm reliving all of that again. Except, I'm really not. But I think last year was really traumatizing and I am terrified when I think about that. I'm not really sure what to do with these feelings, except feel them. Which is really hard right now. So, anyway I was telling my psychiatrist this and I felt the tears. And it was crazy because I've never cried in front of him before, not in my 6 years of seeing him. And I was like, "Oh shit" and he knew I was crying. It was just...interesting, but good I guess.
Anyway, so tomorrow I see my therapist. I can't wait to give her the CD I made her. I hope she likes it. And then I am supposed to have lunch with my second mom, although she hasn't texted me back to confirm it. And then I am meeting up with my friend Karen after that. It should be a good day.
Anyway, that's all for now.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Bulimia.
*Warning. This post has the potential to be triggering. I do not use numbers. But if you are easily triggered by talk of bulimia, you should not read this post.*
I've had my eating disorder for 9 years. For the majority of those years, I struggled with anorexia. However, the past 3-4 years I came into the grips of bulimia. I am writing this blog post to explore why and how bulimia has been more effective for me, in terms of my disease, not my life. I want to preface this by saying that I am currently 10 months purge free.
Bulimia for me was/is all about comfort and safety and control. In particular, the rituals that I had surrounding my binge/purge episodes. There was this huge build up of anticipation when planning and carrying out my binges and purges. I almost want to say I glorified it in my mind. But bulimia is not glamorous or fun. Bulimia was so addictive for me. It was my crutch, my escape. I did it with so much secrecy, that it was almost was like this secret friend I had that I couldn't imagine living without. I know that if I relapsed with bulimia, it would be a hard and fast fall. While I'm not purging, I still think about it quite often. I still plan out binges in my head. I still remember the the rituals I had. It brings me comfort and safety just thinking about it and seeing it in my head. The foods I used to binge/purge on, were mainly fast food types of things. I realize that I haven't eaten my favorite fast food since February, the last time I binged/purged.
I figured out something out in therapy last week. I've always felt that safety and comfort have been lacking in my life, for as long as I can remember. And I really believe that's one of the main reasons I turned to my eating disorder. And even today, I struggle with these things. And I have noticed that when I am having an especially hard time with those feelings, that I have more bulimia centered thoughts and urges.
I think this is definitely something to explore in therapy. Obviously I need to find healthy ways to get comfort and safety. I think having more friends would help, but that also feels unsafe to me. It's complicated.
Anyway, that's my thought for the night.
I've had my eating disorder for 9 years. For the majority of those years, I struggled with anorexia. However, the past 3-4 years I came into the grips of bulimia. I am writing this blog post to explore why and how bulimia has been more effective for me, in terms of my disease, not my life. I want to preface this by saying that I am currently 10 months purge free.
Bulimia for me was/is all about comfort and safety and control. In particular, the rituals that I had surrounding my binge/purge episodes. There was this huge build up of anticipation when planning and carrying out my binges and purges. I almost want to say I glorified it in my mind. But bulimia is not glamorous or fun. Bulimia was so addictive for me. It was my crutch, my escape. I did it with so much secrecy, that it was almost was like this secret friend I had that I couldn't imagine living without. I know that if I relapsed with bulimia, it would be a hard and fast fall. While I'm not purging, I still think about it quite often. I still plan out binges in my head. I still remember the the rituals I had. It brings me comfort and safety just thinking about it and seeing it in my head. The foods I used to binge/purge on, were mainly fast food types of things. I realize that I haven't eaten my favorite fast food since February, the last time I binged/purged.
I figured out something out in therapy last week. I've always felt that safety and comfort have been lacking in my life, for as long as I can remember. And I really believe that's one of the main reasons I turned to my eating disorder. And even today, I struggle with these things. And I have noticed that when I am having an especially hard time with those feelings, that I have more bulimia centered thoughts and urges.
I think this is definitely something to explore in therapy. Obviously I need to find healthy ways to get comfort and safety. I think having more friends would help, but that also feels unsafe to me. It's complicated.
Anyway, that's my thought for the night.
It's been awhile
Sorry for the lack of blog posts you guys. Things have been really hectic and busy and chaotic lately. This week I have been nannying full time because the kids are out of school on Winter Break. I have had to be at their house every day at 8:30 am until 5:30 pm. It's been kind of crazy, but also fun! For the most part the kids have been behaving well, with the exception of some issues here and there. But it has been to hang out with them. I swear, I feel like I am part of their family now. Jane (the mom) always comments about how I am now part of their family and I can't escape them! I just love all of them so much!
I've still been having a rough go with depression. It's mainly just the holidays that are coming up. I'm just not really into it this year. I just want to survive it and get through it and hopefully things will improve soon. I think also my depression has to do with some family drama and money stress that's been going on with me.
As far as food goes, eh well it's been okay. I've really not had the opportunity to skip meals this week because I've been spending so much time with the kids. On Tuesday we went to lunch at a pizza buffet. This is really the first buffet I have encountered since being in recovery. It really messed with me. I felt like I ate SO much. I felt completely out of control and almost felt like I couldn't stop myself. I ALMOST purged. I came so freaking close. It freaked me out so much that I emailed my dietitian. She told me that overeating sometimes is perfectly normal, and that she is so proud of me for not purging. I'm so glad I didn't because I know I would have regretted it.
I had group on Wednesday night and it was so, so great. I just vented about everything that's been going on and I got so much great feedback and support from the other women and my group leader. I am so very thankful I have this safe haven in my life. We share our struggles, but we also share our accomplishments as well as our laughter. I am so blessed.
I have been becoming closer to Jane (the mom of the kids I babysit for). I opened up to her and her husband about my past struggles with my eating disorder. I didn't really divulge details. But I was telling them how my friend Michelle (from Remuda) was coming to visit me last weekend and Jane asked where I knew her from and I just couldn't lie. So I told her the truth. She was totally and completely awesome about it. I found myself shaking as I told her. Not that I was embarrassed or ashamed or anything, but I was just nervous that she would look at my differently or something. But that was not the case at all. As I was leaving that night she was like, "thanks for telling us!" And I said, "thanks for being so accepting!" And she responded, "I'm so proud of you!" Ahh, I almost started crying. I am just so glad I told them and that she ended up being so accepting and awesome about it!
I've been having some boy drama lately and I was telling her all about it the other night and we ended up talking about it for like an hour. She's awesome, needless to say.
I am done Christmas shopping. I finished yesterday. I am pretty excited about all of the gifts that I got for everyone! That's my favorite part, giving gifts! I hope everyone likes what I got them. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve (crazy!) and we are having a family party at my parent's house. There is going to be a lot of good food and drinks, so I am excited about that. I'm also excited about getting dressed up and doing my hair and all of that fun stuff. The party will probably last until about 9ish, and then I am going to church at 11pm. And then my sisters and I all spend the night at my parent's house and we do presents on Christmas morning!
Well, that's basically all that's going on right now. I think my friends Michelle and Erin are coming to visit me next week. I am kind of stressing over that because I have so much cleaning to do in my house. My house just feels gross and cluttered and dirty. AH. Anyway...that's all for now!
Merry Christmas everyone!
I've still been having a rough go with depression. It's mainly just the holidays that are coming up. I'm just not really into it this year. I just want to survive it and get through it and hopefully things will improve soon. I think also my depression has to do with some family drama and money stress that's been going on with me.
As far as food goes, eh well it's been okay. I've really not had the opportunity to skip meals this week because I've been spending so much time with the kids. On Tuesday we went to lunch at a pizza buffet. This is really the first buffet I have encountered since being in recovery. It really messed with me. I felt like I ate SO much. I felt completely out of control and almost felt like I couldn't stop myself. I ALMOST purged. I came so freaking close. It freaked me out so much that I emailed my dietitian. She told me that overeating sometimes is perfectly normal, and that she is so proud of me for not purging. I'm so glad I didn't because I know I would have regretted it.
I had group on Wednesday night and it was so, so great. I just vented about everything that's been going on and I got so much great feedback and support from the other women and my group leader. I am so very thankful I have this safe haven in my life. We share our struggles, but we also share our accomplishments as well as our laughter. I am so blessed.
I have been becoming closer to Jane (the mom of the kids I babysit for). I opened up to her and her husband about my past struggles with my eating disorder. I didn't really divulge details. But I was telling them how my friend Michelle (from Remuda) was coming to visit me last weekend and Jane asked where I knew her from and I just couldn't lie. So I told her the truth. She was totally and completely awesome about it. I found myself shaking as I told her. Not that I was embarrassed or ashamed or anything, but I was just nervous that she would look at my differently or something. But that was not the case at all. As I was leaving that night she was like, "thanks for telling us!" And I said, "thanks for being so accepting!" And she responded, "I'm so proud of you!" Ahh, I almost started crying. I am just so glad I told them and that she ended up being so accepting and awesome about it!
I've been having some boy drama lately and I was telling her all about it the other night and we ended up talking about it for like an hour. She's awesome, needless to say.
I am done Christmas shopping. I finished yesterday. I am pretty excited about all of the gifts that I got for everyone! That's my favorite part, giving gifts! I hope everyone likes what I got them. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve (crazy!) and we are having a family party at my parent's house. There is going to be a lot of good food and drinks, so I am excited about that. I'm also excited about getting dressed up and doing my hair and all of that fun stuff. The party will probably last until about 9ish, and then I am going to church at 11pm. And then my sisters and I all spend the night at my parent's house and we do presents on Christmas morning!
Well, that's basically all that's going on right now. I think my friends Michelle and Erin are coming to visit me next week. I am kind of stressing over that because I have so much cleaning to do in my house. My house just feels gross and cluttered and dirty. AH. Anyway...that's all for now!
Merry Christmas everyone!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Darkness.
Things aren't going that great. I feel myself slipping. And I just feel like it's happened so fast. Just within the past week and a half. I have felt my depression come back. Probably the most depressed that I've been since February. I just want to clarify thought, I am NOT suicidal, nor do I feel like I'm anywhere close to feeling that way. But, I have had increased urges to self-harm (although I have not succumbed to these urges). I just feel sooo like, uncomfortable. I want to sit in the shower all long. I feel gross. And, I really am not sure where these intense feelings are coming from, and maybe that's what bothers me the most. It's like, why can't I just snap out of it? I have a hunch that it's just the upcoming holiday that is making me feel this way. I love Christmas, but I always seem to get really, really sad and depressed this time of year. So maybe I just have to get past Christmas, and I will be okay. But then after Christmas comes the coldest two months of the year. It makes me cold just thinking about it.
Because of this depression, I have been back sliding with food lately. It's weird though, when I'm eating in the moment, I am not focusing on what I'm eating. I'm not "mindfully eating" as therapist and dietitians like to say. But when I think about the past couple of weeks, I can see how I have not been eating as much as I should. I get so anxious about food, and then I just block it out. I have had increased urges to purge too. Haven't done it though, and I don't plan too either. It just sucks, man. I hate eating disorders. I still want recovery, so so much and still feel like I am fighting for it. But right now I feel like I don't have as much fight in me as I used to, and it would be SO easy to go back to skipping 2-3 meals a day and bingeing and purging.
So, I see my therapist on Thursday and I'm nervous and excited about that. I can't wait to talk all of this out, but I'm also anxious as to what her opinion will be about all of this.
That's all I got for now. My sleep meds are kicking in.
Because of this depression, I have been back sliding with food lately. It's weird though, when I'm eating in the moment, I am not focusing on what I'm eating. I'm not "mindfully eating" as therapist and dietitians like to say. But when I think about the past couple of weeks, I can see how I have not been eating as much as I should. I get so anxious about food, and then I just block it out. I have had increased urges to purge too. Haven't done it though, and I don't plan too either. It just sucks, man. I hate eating disorders. I still want recovery, so so much and still feel like I am fighting for it. But right now I feel like I don't have as much fight in me as I used to, and it would be SO easy to go back to skipping 2-3 meals a day and bingeing and purging.
So, I see my therapist on Thursday and I'm nervous and excited about that. I can't wait to talk all of this out, but I'm also anxious as to what her opinion will be about all of this.
That's all I got for now. My sleep meds are kicking in.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Me, Myself, and Time.
Song of the day: Me, Myself, and Time by Demi Lovato
And I know that everything will be fine with me, myself, and time.
I have been thinking (and feeling) a lot today. I think I kind of figured out the cause of my sadness. I'm beginning to think it's more depression than it is sadness. I have had little to no motivation over the past week or two. I have piles of dirty laundry in my room that I have given little thought to. I have SO much Christmas shopping to do, yet at the end of the day when I get off work, shopping is the last thing I want to do. I just feel kind of blank, empty, and stale. I cried today and tonight for the first time in a long time. It was the result of a combination of many different feelings and thoughts. I have realized how lonely I am. Aside from my friends from treatment (who are the best friends ever), I have no friends my age. My friends from treatment live 1-2 hours away. And really, I don't have that much desire to go out with people my age. I've never been into drinking, partying, bar hopping...none of that. But I feel like that's what most people my age do. I don't know anyone my age. It sounds stupid, but I don't know how to meet them. Yes, there is always Meetup.com. But again, here's where my lack of motivation comes in. It's pathetic. Why am I SO afraid to be social and have fun with other people? I have tons of social anxiety. I have had it for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to break through that. And also, as much as I love my friends from treatment, I don't want all of my friends to have eating disorders, you know? I know there is so much more to me than that. I also would really love to have a boyfriend. But, that's a different story.
I'm not happy with my living situation. But I can't get out of it until my sister finds another roommate. I am terrified of how long that will take. As scared as I am of moving, if I could move out tomorrow, I would do in a heartbeat.
My group leader called this morning to talk about something I emailed her earlier in the week. I don't want to divulge the details because I want to respect the confidentiality of my fellow group members. But it was really great to talk to her and have her basically tell me things I needed to hear and remind myself of. That I am doing this, I am moving forward, I am not using behaviors. That I am going to be okay. I started crying while talking to her because...I guess because first of all I am so grateful for her and it just warmed my heart to hear how much she cares about me. And then secondly, I just realized how sad I was and it was overwhelming.
Throughout all of this, I am so very grateful for my friend Em. She has been there for me so much this past year, and especially the past few days. I love this girl so much. I swear it's like we should have been sisters. I hate that she lives so far away. She gives me so much strength. I love you Em.
Food is...kind of a struggle right now. And that scares me. In fact, thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I can't go there right now. Maybe I will write about it later.
I guess that's all I have to say. I am really tired. I'm going to get in bed and read.
And I know that everything will be fine with me, myself, and time.
I have been thinking (and feeling) a lot today. I think I kind of figured out the cause of my sadness. I'm beginning to think it's more depression than it is sadness. I have had little to no motivation over the past week or two. I have piles of dirty laundry in my room that I have given little thought to. I have SO much Christmas shopping to do, yet at the end of the day when I get off work, shopping is the last thing I want to do. I just feel kind of blank, empty, and stale. I cried today and tonight for the first time in a long time. It was the result of a combination of many different feelings and thoughts. I have realized how lonely I am. Aside from my friends from treatment (who are the best friends ever), I have no friends my age. My friends from treatment live 1-2 hours away. And really, I don't have that much desire to go out with people my age. I've never been into drinking, partying, bar hopping...none of that. But I feel like that's what most people my age do. I don't know anyone my age. It sounds stupid, but I don't know how to meet them. Yes, there is always Meetup.com. But again, here's where my lack of motivation comes in. It's pathetic. Why am I SO afraid to be social and have fun with other people? I have tons of social anxiety. I have had it for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to break through that. And also, as much as I love my friends from treatment, I don't want all of my friends to have eating disorders, you know? I know there is so much more to me than that. I also would really love to have a boyfriend. But, that's a different story.
I'm not happy with my living situation. But I can't get out of it until my sister finds another roommate. I am terrified of how long that will take. As scared as I am of moving, if I could move out tomorrow, I would do in a heartbeat.
My group leader called this morning to talk about something I emailed her earlier in the week. I don't want to divulge the details because I want to respect the confidentiality of my fellow group members. But it was really great to talk to her and have her basically tell me things I needed to hear and remind myself of. That I am doing this, I am moving forward, I am not using behaviors. That I am going to be okay. I started crying while talking to her because...I guess because first of all I am so grateful for her and it just warmed my heart to hear how much she cares about me. And then secondly, I just realized how sad I was and it was overwhelming.
Throughout all of this, I am so very grateful for my friend Em. She has been there for me so much this past year, and especially the past few days. I love this girl so much. I swear it's like we should have been sisters. I hate that she lives so far away. She gives me so much strength. I love you Em.
Food is...kind of a struggle right now. And that scares me. In fact, thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I can't go there right now. Maybe I will write about it later.
I guess that's all I have to say. I am really tired. I'm going to get in bed and read.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
This is what's going on.
Not much. Seriously.
This has been the first week I have gone without therapy/my dietitian since leaving treatment in March. It has gone really well, thank goodness. I have had a lot of feelings and emotions come up, but I feel like I have coped with it pretty well. On Monday I saw my psychiatrist. I told him my concerns about my lack of appetite. He gave me a medication to help give me it back. But, it made me really, really, drowsy and I haven't taken it other than that one time. But I am hungry again, so that's good. He also wants to see me again before the year is over (he usually sees me just once a month). I think he is just kind of concerned about my anxiety and lack of appetite. And he just want to make sure it gets better. I'm okay with that.
My parents informed me this week that my sister doesn't want to live with me anymore. Notice how THEY told me this, not HER. Well, the feeling is mutual. We have lived together for almost 5 years, I just think it's time a to make a change. I have no idea where I am going to move or who I am going to live with. I'm also really concerned about when I move, how I will react to such a big change. I have a history of not dealing well with change. And I am just really worried that it will compromise my recovery. I shed tears over this, that's how bad it scares me.
I've been really sad this week, but I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just one of those things that happens sometimes. It's whatever.
As each week goes on, I fall more and more in love with the family I nanny. They bring such a huge smile to my face, and make me laugh so hard. Gosh I love them.
Not much else going on at the moment. I really need to get moving on my Christmas shopping, but I'm too tired to go at the end of the day. I see my dietitian on Monday, as well as the dentist (ugh). I hate going to the dentist.
Anyway, that's all.
This has been the first week I have gone without therapy/my dietitian since leaving treatment in March. It has gone really well, thank goodness. I have had a lot of feelings and emotions come up, but I feel like I have coped with it pretty well. On Monday I saw my psychiatrist. I told him my concerns about my lack of appetite. He gave me a medication to help give me it back. But, it made me really, really, drowsy and I haven't taken it other than that one time. But I am hungry again, so that's good. He also wants to see me again before the year is over (he usually sees me just once a month). I think he is just kind of concerned about my anxiety and lack of appetite. And he just want to make sure it gets better. I'm okay with that.
My parents informed me this week that my sister doesn't want to live with me anymore. Notice how THEY told me this, not HER. Well, the feeling is mutual. We have lived together for almost 5 years, I just think it's time a to make a change. I have no idea where I am going to move or who I am going to live with. I'm also really concerned about when I move, how I will react to such a big change. I have a history of not dealing well with change. And I am just really worried that it will compromise my recovery. I shed tears over this, that's how bad it scares me.
I've been really sad this week, but I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just one of those things that happens sometimes. It's whatever.
As each week goes on, I fall more and more in love with the family I nanny. They bring such a huge smile to my face, and make me laugh so hard. Gosh I love them.
Not much else going on at the moment. I really need to get moving on my Christmas shopping, but I'm too tired to go at the end of the day. I see my dietitian on Monday, as well as the dentist (ugh). I hate going to the dentist.
Anyway, that's all.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
News story my friend wrote about me
“There is no such thing as a life with an eating disorder, because I was dying each and every day I used behaviors,” says a woman eight months into recovery from an eating disorder.
Holly Weisiger, 23, has been battling bulimia and anorexia for many years and is now in a secure place in her recovery. In February 2011, she entered treatment at Remuda Ranch in Bowling Green, Va.
Multiple factors contribute to Weisiger’s success in recovery, two most important being her treatment team, consisting of a therapist, dietitian, psychiatrist and support group, and her friends and family. Faith also plays has a big role in her recovery, she says, “prayer and worship give me a sense of peace and calmness.”
Registered dietitian Rebecca Bitzer agrees, “A team is essential, meaning you need a nutritionist, therapist and psychiatrist. A support group is very helpful.”
Jennifer Shook, who worked as a behavioral health technician at Remuda Ranch agrees that motivation is important to recovery. However, she says that “immediately, what is most important is stabilizing the patient: nutrition, medication, rest and therapy.”
Long term, Shook says that a change in lifestyle is important to make sure that recovery has a chance to last.
At Remuda Ranch, Weisiger was taught many coping skills for dealing with urges to act in eating disordered behavior but finds that distraction is most effective for her. Many things work as distractions for her, such as reading, watching a movie or talking to friends.
“I have a desire to live. I enjoy everything about life. I have happiness,” Weisiger says about what she has gained from recovery. In addition to happiness, she now has trust, faith and, most importantly, hope for the future.
Motivation to get one’s life back is what Bitzer says is the most important aspect of someone being successful in his or her recovery.
Weisiger knows that using her eating disorder behaviors will prevent her from pursuing her dreams. She says she has a passion for healthcare and spreading awareness of eating disorders.
It is a dream of Weisiger’s to be able to tell people her story in hopes of being inspirational to others who are going through struggles of their own.
Shook says that getting to see patients regain their life is the purpose for doing what she does. “It makes you want to jump for joy with them because you are excited for the good that is coming their way and because you are so proud of them,” she says.
Weisiger has been in treatment two times; once when she was 15 and the second time when she was 22, and these experiences differed vastly. At 15, Weisiger did not have a choice to not go to treatment.
At 22, Weisiger recognized she had hit rock bottom and called the center she was at previously, Remuda Ranch, and coordinated her admittance.
Adjusting to life after treatment at 22 was much different than when Weisiger was an adolescent. Weisiger was living on her own and did not have the constant monitoring of her parents to make sure she was completing her meals.
Because of this lack of structure, Weisiger made sure that she had a schedule to follow every day. Being on her own required Weisiger to gain the trust of her family and treatment team that she is being truthful with them.
Elizabeth Willcox-Weisiger, Holly Weisiger’s mother, says that she is “proudest that she recognizes her lack of self control and admits she needs help.”
Currently, Weisiger is working as a nanny. Having this job has taught her that if she cannot take care of herself, she cannot take care of the three children she is responsible for and have them look up to her.
Weisiger believes that she is doing a good job, making sure to “send them healthy messages and encourage them when they say something negative,” she said.
Recovery is “so much about doing and being things that are non-eating disorder related; getting back to school, back to work, being more engaged in life,” Bitzer says.
Many people have inspired Weisiger to get her health back, but two women stand out above the rest.
Weisiger’s dietitian for two months when she was in treatment at 15 has had a strong influence on her life. She showed her strong belief and care for Weisiger and was not disappointed when she had to return to treatment seven years later; she was proud she was getting the help she needed.
Kathleen MacDonald, who is recovered from an eating disorder, helped talk with Holly through the hardest part of her relapse and encouraged her to go back into treatment. MacDonald inspires and motivates Weisiger each day.
“It is a given you are beautiful because you are alive,” are words of MacDonald that Weisiger makes sure to remember daily.
Weisiger faces daily struggles; “recovery is not a straight path. Slips are expected, but it’s how I pull myself out of these slips that matters,” she says of her struggles.
Bringing up sensitive and tough subjects in therapy is very hard for her, but she pushes through because she knows that if she keeps these thoughts to herself she is only harming herself.
In treatment, the hardest thing that Weisiger dealt with was eating three meals, three snacks and weight-gain supplements each day. Often, doing this made her cry before, during and after meals “because it was going against everything my eating disorder wanted me to do,” she said.
Weisiger’s favorite memories from Remuda Ranch involved equine therapy with her horse, Dude. She felt a very deep connection with him and looked forward to twice-weekly trail rides.
Shook says that working with patients in recovery and seeing them begin to “appreciate the small things in life again and look toward a hopeful future was always a constant reminder to myself to appreciate all that I have.”
Living in recovery and resisting urges to act on her eating disorder feels good and bad. The healthy side of Weisiger tells her to be proud and strong for using healthy coping mechanisms, but the eating disorder side of her tells her that she is weak and that she will become fat and lose control.
“I am able to differentiate between my healthy voice and the voice of my eating disorder. These days I resist the urges about 95 percent more than before recovery,” Weisiger said.
Earlier in recovery, it was nearly impossible for Weisiger to recognize and celebrate her successes and accomplishments. She said she was afraid of not knowing who she was without her eating disorder, but now she is able to acknowledge how far she has come in her recovery in the past eight months.
Weisiger was in a “living hell” when she was using her eating disorder, she said. Concentrating, thinking clearly and even walking short distances were extremely difficult for her.
Shook says that the hardest thing she deals with when treating patients with eating disorders “is the hopelessness the patient feels. It can be so hard knowing you cannot convince someone that there is a light at the end of the tunnel when they cannot conceive of such a thing in the moment.”
The cycle of bingeing and purging that Weisiger engaged in caused her to live in seclusion to avoid being judged by people. She lived with a strained relationship with her family, no friends, no sleep and a severe depression.
“I lost a job once because I was barely eating at the time and wasn’t able to keep up at work,” Weisiger said.
Weisiger said, “I think the only thing standing in the way of my recovery…is myself.” She knows that if she gives up hope or doesn’t believe in herself, the eating disorder will win, so she strives to make the right choices and care for herself.
Willcox-Weisiger said she hopes for the day when Weisiger will be able to not identify herself as having an eating disorder. She hopes for the day when Weisiger will feel “more confident about herself and who she really is.”
Many people suffering from eating disorders have similarities. Often, depression is tied in with an eating disorder.
“Perfectionism; extremes of thinking, black and white, all or nothing; ambivalence to treatment, wanting to get better but not wanting to give up the perceived safety of an eating disorder” are patterns that Bitzer notices in the patients she treats.
Weisiger says with assurance that the best thing she has gained from recovery is hope. “I have hope for life; I’ve never been able to say that for myself before. It sure feels awesome!”
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Amazing.
Forgive me if I don't go into much detail in this post. Today was a very important, meaningful, as well as exhausting day. So I am very tired and as soon as I finish this post, I am going up to bed. And it's only 8pm.
Today I went with my therapist to the school where my trauma took place. I didnt sleep well at all last night. because I was so nervous, and in so much pain. I think I have a pinched nerve in my back. So I woke up this morning for therapy and I wasnt as nervous as I thought. So, as we drove up to the school, I kind of stopped breathing. It was...crazy. It looked pretty much the same. Then we started walking the grounds. And the first place we walked was to the side of the building where the rooms were that it happened. That was kind of a scary moment. My therapist peeked in the windows, while I just sort of looked around. And then I looked in the windows. And I saw the staircase that I used to go down to the basement where it happened. And it looked the same. Dark and dreary. And I had to step away at that point. That was really...intense. All the memories came flooding back. So then we walked around to where the art building and music building was, and the back yard (the school is an old mansion that was turned into a school. So it's not a typical looking school). And that was cool to reflect on like the good memories and things I had forgotten about. And then we walked back to the part of the building where the abuse took place. We sat down and I read out loud the letters I had written. I wrote one to my abuser, and one to my 11 year old self. That was hard. I had to stop and take deep breaths a couple of times. And, I just thought I was going to take the letters back with me. But my therapist was like, well why dont you rip them up and throw them in the dumpster (which was right near where we were sitting). And I hadn't thought of that... and honestly it made me a little bit sad. I felt like if I did that, then I was like...losing the parts of myself that had conquered my past and grown from it. I know that sounds strange. But then I thought, well I want to let go of the shame, guilt, and regret. And this would be appropriate. So I ripped them up and threw them in the dumpster. After I did that, I looked down on the ground...and there was a heart shaped rock. And I of course picked it up and took it with me. You know it's weird. I thought I was going to be like a super mess and overwhelmed. And in between jobs today I did sit in my car and cried for a while. I think it was just relief that I felt. Now I feel...tired, and proud.
So that was my day. I officially made the decision to cut back on therapy, and I am confident in my decision. So I won't be seeing my therapist until two weeks from now. I of course can email/call/text her if I need to. I see my dietitian tomorrow and that should go well. Things have been a little difficult with food lately, but nothing horrible. I am sure I will get back on track.
Today marks 8 months in recovery. I honestly have never felt better and as hopeful as I do now. It's amazing. Recovery is amazing. I am so proud of all the super hard work I have done, and am still doing. I never thought recovery was something I could do, or even deserved. But now I believe in myself and recovery. It just seems to keep getting better. Never imagined that!
Well, I am off to bed. Thank God tomorrow is Friday! My family and I are going to cut down a Christmas tree this weekend! I love Christmas time!
Today I went with my therapist to the school where my trauma took place. I didnt sleep well at all last night. because I was so nervous, and in so much pain. I think I have a pinched nerve in my back. So I woke up this morning for therapy and I wasnt as nervous as I thought. So, as we drove up to the school, I kind of stopped breathing. It was...crazy. It looked pretty much the same. Then we started walking the grounds. And the first place we walked was to the side of the building where the rooms were that it happened. That was kind of a scary moment. My therapist peeked in the windows, while I just sort of looked around. And then I looked in the windows. And I saw the staircase that I used to go down to the basement where it happened. And it looked the same. Dark and dreary. And I had to step away at that point. That was really...intense. All the memories came flooding back. So then we walked around to where the art building and music building was, and the back yard (the school is an old mansion that was turned into a school. So it's not a typical looking school). And that was cool to reflect on like the good memories and things I had forgotten about. And then we walked back to the part of the building where the abuse took place. We sat down and I read out loud the letters I had written. I wrote one to my abuser, and one to my 11 year old self. That was hard. I had to stop and take deep breaths a couple of times. And, I just thought I was going to take the letters back with me. But my therapist was like, well why dont you rip them up and throw them in the dumpster (which was right near where we were sitting). And I hadn't thought of that... and honestly it made me a little bit sad. I felt like if I did that, then I was like...losing the parts of myself that had conquered my past and grown from it. I know that sounds strange. But then I thought, well I want to let go of the shame, guilt, and regret. And this would be appropriate. So I ripped them up and threw them in the dumpster. After I did that, I looked down on the ground...and there was a heart shaped rock. And I of course picked it up and took it with me. You know it's weird. I thought I was going to be like a super mess and overwhelmed. And in between jobs today I did sit in my car and cried for a while. I think it was just relief that I felt. Now I feel...tired, and proud.
So that was my day. I officially made the decision to cut back on therapy, and I am confident in my decision. So I won't be seeing my therapist until two weeks from now. I of course can email/call/text her if I need to. I see my dietitian tomorrow and that should go well. Things have been a little difficult with food lately, but nothing horrible. I am sure I will get back on track.
Today marks 8 months in recovery. I honestly have never felt better and as hopeful as I do now. It's amazing. Recovery is amazing. I am so proud of all the super hard work I have done, and am still doing. I never thought recovery was something I could do, or even deserved. But now I believe in myself and recovery. It just seems to keep getting better. Never imagined that!
Well, I am off to bed. Thank God tomorrow is Friday! My family and I are going to cut down a Christmas tree this weekend! I love Christmas time!
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Decisions
I have made some pretty significant decisions lately. I have decided to cut back therapy to every two weeks. I really feel I do not need it every week at this point. That's not to say that if things get tough and I start to struggle that I won't go back to a once a week. I just feel I can get through a week without therapy right now. That's pretty huge for me to make this decision on my own. A part of me is terrified of a life without therapy. I mean, hello, I have been in therapy the past 10 years of my life. But I think that I also need to discover who I am outside of therapy and all of my issues. At this point I am only seeing my dietitian every week and a half/two weeks, I am pretty sure that is going to stay like that too.
My dietitian told me on Wednesday night that my weight has stayed the same the whole month of November. That's pretty exciting considering I have continued to gain weight since coming home from Remuda in March. I guess this is where my weight needs to be. It's kind of discouraging to hear that. I had hoped that maybe my weight was just trying to figure itself out and I would go back down to the weight Remuda gave me. But if I were to go back down to that weight then I would have to lose 10-15 pounds, and I just know that wouldn't be healthy.
My thearpist and I worked on a guided imagery exercise in my body image workbook yesterday. I had to describe what it feels like and looks like to feel imprisoned in my own body. What I get out of it and what I feel are the risks if I wasn't trapped in my body. It was a pretty cool exercise. My therapist thought I did a pretty awesome job too.
I am trying to brainstorm ideas of some sort of ritual I can take part in next week when my therapist and I visit the school where my trauma took place. I don't know if I should write a letter and leave it there or leave something else there, or take something from there, like a leaf or a twig or something. Any ideas would be greatly appreciated!
Anyway, not much else is going on. I have been having problems sleeping lately. I just toss and turn all night and I don't wake up feeling rested. I see my psychiatrist next week and will talk to him about that.
Oh yeah I started a Tumblr so you should check it out! http://hollyw26.tumblr.com/
My dietitian told me on Wednesday night that my weight has stayed the same the whole month of November. That's pretty exciting considering I have continued to gain weight since coming home from Remuda in March. I guess this is where my weight needs to be. It's kind of discouraging to hear that. I had hoped that maybe my weight was just trying to figure itself out and I would go back down to the weight Remuda gave me. But if I were to go back down to that weight then I would have to lose 10-15 pounds, and I just know that wouldn't be healthy.
My thearpist and I worked on a guided imagery exercise in my body image workbook yesterday. I had to describe what it feels like and looks like to feel imprisoned in my own body. What I get out of it and what I feel are the risks if I wasn't trapped in my body. It was a pretty cool exercise. My therapist thought I did a pretty awesome job too.
I am trying to brainstorm ideas of some sort of ritual I can take part in next week when my therapist and I visit the school where my trauma took place. I don't know if I should write a letter and leave it there or leave something else there, or take something from there, like a leaf or a twig or something. Any ideas would be greatly appreciated!
Anyway, not much else is going on. I have been having problems sleeping lately. I just toss and turn all night and I don't wake up feeling rested. I see my psychiatrist next week and will talk to him about that.
Oh yeah I started a Tumblr so you should check it out! http://hollyw26.tumblr.com/
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Giving Thanks,
Well, I've been brainstorming ideas for this post for about a week. I think I am just going to make a list. I have SO much to be thankful for this year. I came so close to death many times this year, yet today I feel the most alive I have in 12 years.
This list is in no particular order.
1. My family: I don't really give them enough credit. They have loved me and supported me through my struggles this year. My parents took out a mortgage on their house to pay for Remuda Ranch. My sisters took out time from school and work to come to my Family Week. My dad pays for my health insurance and some other stuff too. But most of all I am thankful that they love me.
2. Two jobs. Having a job in America is a pretty cool thing right now. I work for an amazing family, nannying the three nicest kids. The parents are so amazing too. They all bring a smile to my face every time I see them, which is Monday through Friday. I also love my job at the resteraunt. It's like a big family there. Minus a couple people, I love my co-workers. My boss is amazing. I will never forget when I told my boss about being in the hospital and having to go away to treatment. He was so supportive and caring. And welcomed me back to work when I came home.
3. My support group. I started this support group at the beginning of the summer. It feels so good to be a part of a group of women who "get it". I come to this group every other Monday night and I just love it. I feel so loved and meaningful. I love supporting the other women as well, offering myself in any way they need me. My group leader is one of the most amazing people I've ever known. She's an old soul and I love her. This group has supported me during my hard times and applauded my successes.
4. My Soul Sisters. Also known as my Remuda girls, also known as my best friends. Also known as Erin, Michelle, Ashley, Jackie, Nikki, Lindsay, Buddy. Holy wow. I would not be doing as well as I am today without these girls. Not even close. They are my sunny days and my bright tomorrows. I love these girls more than anything in the world. I have never had such close, amazing, loving, best friends. Ever. Nothing compares to them.
5. My treatment team. My therapist, dietitian, and psychiatrist...there are just no words. I owe so much to them. They have believed in me every single step of the way. They haven't given up. They challenge me. They help me feel safe. They love me and cheer me on. On the days that I can't find the strength to be there for myself, they are there for me. I simply would not be alive today, had they not been a part of my life.
6. My dogs. They make my heart happy. My dogs don't care what I look like. They love me for who I am. They make me smile. They make me laugh. I love to snuggle with them. They make my soul happy.
7. My close friends, Heather, Karen, Jamie, Emily, Sarah. I love them. They have supported me and loved me through everything this past year.
8. Remuda Ranch. I am thankful that they helped give me my life back. I was truly blessed that my parents were willing to pay for me to go there. Those 45 days brought me back to life.
9. Kathleen MacDonald. Look her up. She's amazing and is my inspiration.
10. Recovery. I am thankful that I chose recovery, that I chose to live. I am thankful for 8 months of recovery. I am thankful for the hope that I will one day be recovered.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
This list is in no particular order.
1. My family: I don't really give them enough credit. They have loved me and supported me through my struggles this year. My parents took out a mortgage on their house to pay for Remuda Ranch. My sisters took out time from school and work to come to my Family Week. My dad pays for my health insurance and some other stuff too. But most of all I am thankful that they love me.
2. Two jobs. Having a job in America is a pretty cool thing right now. I work for an amazing family, nannying the three nicest kids. The parents are so amazing too. They all bring a smile to my face every time I see them, which is Monday through Friday. I also love my job at the resteraunt. It's like a big family there. Minus a couple people, I love my co-workers. My boss is amazing. I will never forget when I told my boss about being in the hospital and having to go away to treatment. He was so supportive and caring. And welcomed me back to work when I came home.
3. My support group. I started this support group at the beginning of the summer. It feels so good to be a part of a group of women who "get it". I come to this group every other Monday night and I just love it. I feel so loved and meaningful. I love supporting the other women as well, offering myself in any way they need me. My group leader is one of the most amazing people I've ever known. She's an old soul and I love her. This group has supported me during my hard times and applauded my successes.
4. My Soul Sisters. Also known as my Remuda girls, also known as my best friends. Also known as Erin, Michelle, Ashley, Jackie, Nikki, Lindsay, Buddy. Holy wow. I would not be doing as well as I am today without these girls. Not even close. They are my sunny days and my bright tomorrows. I love these girls more than anything in the world. I have never had such close, amazing, loving, best friends. Ever. Nothing compares to them.
5. My treatment team. My therapist, dietitian, and psychiatrist...there are just no words. I owe so much to them. They have believed in me every single step of the way. They haven't given up. They challenge me. They help me feel safe. They love me and cheer me on. On the days that I can't find the strength to be there for myself, they are there for me. I simply would not be alive today, had they not been a part of my life.
6. My dogs. They make my heart happy. My dogs don't care what I look like. They love me for who I am. They make me smile. They make me laugh. I love to snuggle with them. They make my soul happy.
7. My close friends, Heather, Karen, Jamie, Emily, Sarah. I love them. They have supported me and loved me through everything this past year.
8. Remuda Ranch. I am thankful that they helped give me my life back. I was truly blessed that my parents were willing to pay for me to go there. Those 45 days brought me back to life.
9. Kathleen MacDonald. Look her up. She's amazing and is my inspiration.
10. Recovery. I am thankful that I chose recovery, that I chose to live. I am thankful for 8 months of recovery. I am thankful for the hope that I will one day be recovered.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
Monday, November 21, 2011
thoughts
I had group tonight. It was really good, although I felt like I was all over the place when I was sharing what's been going on the past couple of weeks. I got some really good feedback from the other women and from my group leader, who all told me how proud they are of me. It felt good to hear that. There was a new girl in group tonight who just got out of treatment. When she was talking I just saw so much of myself in her. I almost started crying when giving her feedback. I told her that I know it's SO hard right now, only being home a couple of weeks but it does get better. That she has to take it one day, one meal, one snack, one bite, at a time. I guess that's also something I really needed to hear to and maybe that's why I felt like crying. I gave her my phone number at the end of group and told her I am here for her if she needs anything.
A couple of the other women were talking about how they are are so sick of being sick and tired. I felt...I don't know...weird, when they said that. Because, I feel like I'm past that stage of being sick of being sick, but...I can't tell you how many times I've felt that way before, only to eventually relapse and resort to old habits and behaviors. Why is this time any different? I guess it just feels different than it has before. I keep waiting for the hope, and excitement, and positive attitude to die off. But it doesn't. So maybe this is it. Maybe I FINALLY am at the point where I'm never going to turn back to my ED. But like I said, I keep waiting for the good feelings to fade away and if they do, I don't think I will be all that surprised. *shrugs shoulders* I don't know...
I have been thinking about something lately. When I relapsed really bad last year, more around January actually, I felt that I needed more intense help than the once a week therapy I was getting. I felt I needed to go back to treatment. When I mentioned this to my parents, they seemed to blow it off and didn't think I needed it. When I got suicidal and went to the psych hospital, my psychiatrist seemed to be the only one who thought I needed to go away to treatment. My therapist thought maybe I just needed an intensive outpatient, or to go to Remuda Life and she told me my dietitian agreed. I have never asked my dietitian if that was actually her perception as well. Looking back, I really didn't give that much thought at the time. But now, when I think about it...I get really pissed off. I didn't seem to be "bad enough" for my therapist or my parents. But I certainly felt like I needed treatment. I can't imagine what would have happened if I had gone home when I got out of the hospital, instead of going straight to treatment. My parents finally decided I needed treatment when my psychiatrist told them I needed it. Apparently, my opinion wasn't enough. Even though they told me that if I felt I needed treatment, then they would pay for it, and they did. But it just makes me mad because this makes me have feelings of like...oh well I wasn't "sick enough" back then. My blood work wasn't bad enough, I didn't look thin enough, or purge enough, or cut enough, or skip enough meals. When I think like that, I want to go back to my ED and do it the "right way". Ugh, it just makes me feel crappy. Maybe I should talk about this in therapy or something?
Anyway...that's just my thoughts for the night.
A couple of the other women were talking about how they are are so sick of being sick and tired. I felt...I don't know...weird, when they said that. Because, I feel like I'm past that stage of being sick of being sick, but...I can't tell you how many times I've felt that way before, only to eventually relapse and resort to old habits and behaviors. Why is this time any different? I guess it just feels different than it has before. I keep waiting for the hope, and excitement, and positive attitude to die off. But it doesn't. So maybe this is it. Maybe I FINALLY am at the point where I'm never going to turn back to my ED. But like I said, I keep waiting for the good feelings to fade away and if they do, I don't think I will be all that surprised. *shrugs shoulders* I don't know...
I have been thinking about something lately. When I relapsed really bad last year, more around January actually, I felt that I needed more intense help than the once a week therapy I was getting. I felt I needed to go back to treatment. When I mentioned this to my parents, they seemed to blow it off and didn't think I needed it. When I got suicidal and went to the psych hospital, my psychiatrist seemed to be the only one who thought I needed to go away to treatment. My therapist thought maybe I just needed an intensive outpatient, or to go to Remuda Life and she told me my dietitian agreed. I have never asked my dietitian if that was actually her perception as well. Looking back, I really didn't give that much thought at the time. But now, when I think about it...I get really pissed off. I didn't seem to be "bad enough" for my therapist or my parents. But I certainly felt like I needed treatment. I can't imagine what would have happened if I had gone home when I got out of the hospital, instead of going straight to treatment. My parents finally decided I needed treatment when my psychiatrist told them I needed it. Apparently, my opinion wasn't enough. Even though they told me that if I felt I needed treatment, then they would pay for it, and they did. But it just makes me mad because this makes me have feelings of like...oh well I wasn't "sick enough" back then. My blood work wasn't bad enough, I didn't look thin enough, or purge enough, or cut enough, or skip enough meals. When I think like that, I want to go back to my ED and do it the "right way". Ugh, it just makes me feel crappy. Maybe I should talk about this in therapy or something?
Anyway...that's just my thoughts for the night.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Things are looking up!
Finalllllly, I can write a positive post!
I know my last blog post was kind of depressing and negative. But things are going better, thank goodness. I saw my therapist today. It was a really good session. We talked about Monday night, and how it probably wasn't a good decision to tell my dietitian about my trauma. Not because she doesn't love me (she is the most loving person ever) but because she doesn't really know how to make sure I stay grounded when talking about my past. I don't regret telling her, I only regret not taking better care of myself.
Last week my therapist mentioned taking a field trip to the school where my abuse occurred. I have been thinking a lot about it and thought it would be a good idea. It would help me see that even though bad things happened there, it is not a bad place. And there were good things that did happen there. I think it would help me to make peace with everything and help me move forward. So I said this to my therapist today and she is totally down with it. We are going to take the field trip in 2 weeks. It should be interesting and hopefully a healing experience.
I was talking with my therapist about how I still have a lot of my "anorexic clothes" around my house. In particular, three pairs of jeans that don't fit anymore, not even close. I also have some winter shirts that are tight around my arms and are getting uncomfortable to wear. I don't think I am ready to get rid of all of these clothes yet. There is a tiny piece of me that still wishes I fit into those jeans. My therapist challenged me to get rid of the smallest pair of jeans. I think I can do it, even though it will be hard. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with them. I feel like maybe I need to do some sort of ritual with them. Suggestions?
My therapist said my assignment for this week is to practice grounding skills every morning. I am hoping this will help with my anxiety and my surrounding trauma issues. I am feeling more hopeful, feeling like my anxiety is starting to lessen, and I am getting my power back.
I had a moment today at work when my body image got really bad. Someone I work with (who knows about my eating disorder) said, "Yeah you were kind of too big there for a while but now your weight seems to have leveled out. You looked really bloated for a long time." I'm not really sure why people think it's okay to comment on someone else's weight, especially when you know they have suffered from an eating disorder. I just felt really huge when she said that. Is that way I see myself the way people see me too?
I am getting increasingly anxious about Thanksgiving. It will be my first Thanksgiving in 9 years that I am not using eating disorder behaviors. I will eat breakfast that day, eat lunch, and eat a normal dinner and not binge like crazy and then purge. My dietitian is going to see me next week sometime before Thanksgiving, and I have a session with my therapist the day after. So I know I will have lots of support. Be on the lookout for a "I'm thankful for..." post.
Not much else is going on. I am looking forward to group on Monday night, to get some feedback from my Wise Women about stuff that has been going on. I have decided what I want my next tattoo to be. It's going to be a labyrinth with the word "unbroken" written around it. I can't decide if I want it on the back of my neck or my shoulder blade. I am probably going to wait until after the new year to get it.
Anyway, that's it for now.
I know my last blog post was kind of depressing and negative. But things are going better, thank goodness. I saw my therapist today. It was a really good session. We talked about Monday night, and how it probably wasn't a good decision to tell my dietitian about my trauma. Not because she doesn't love me (she is the most loving person ever) but because she doesn't really know how to make sure I stay grounded when talking about my past. I don't regret telling her, I only regret not taking better care of myself.
Last week my therapist mentioned taking a field trip to the school where my abuse occurred. I have been thinking a lot about it and thought it would be a good idea. It would help me see that even though bad things happened there, it is not a bad place. And there were good things that did happen there. I think it would help me to make peace with everything and help me move forward. So I said this to my therapist today and she is totally down with it. We are going to take the field trip in 2 weeks. It should be interesting and hopefully a healing experience.
I was talking with my therapist about how I still have a lot of my "anorexic clothes" around my house. In particular, three pairs of jeans that don't fit anymore, not even close. I also have some winter shirts that are tight around my arms and are getting uncomfortable to wear. I don't think I am ready to get rid of all of these clothes yet. There is a tiny piece of me that still wishes I fit into those jeans. My therapist challenged me to get rid of the smallest pair of jeans. I think I can do it, even though it will be hard. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with them. I feel like maybe I need to do some sort of ritual with them. Suggestions?
My therapist said my assignment for this week is to practice grounding skills every morning. I am hoping this will help with my anxiety and my surrounding trauma issues. I am feeling more hopeful, feeling like my anxiety is starting to lessen, and I am getting my power back.
I had a moment today at work when my body image got really bad. Someone I work with (who knows about my eating disorder) said, "Yeah you were kind of too big there for a while but now your weight seems to have leveled out. You looked really bloated for a long time." I'm not really sure why people think it's okay to comment on someone else's weight, especially when you know they have suffered from an eating disorder. I just felt really huge when she said that. Is that way I see myself the way people see me too?
I am getting increasingly anxious about Thanksgiving. It will be my first Thanksgiving in 9 years that I am not using eating disorder behaviors. I will eat breakfast that day, eat lunch, and eat a normal dinner and not binge like crazy and then purge. My dietitian is going to see me next week sometime before Thanksgiving, and I have a session with my therapist the day after. So I know I will have lots of support. Be on the lookout for a "I'm thankful for..." post.
Not much else is going on. I am looking forward to group on Monday night, to get some feedback from my Wise Women about stuff that has been going on. I have decided what I want my next tattoo to be. It's going to be a labyrinth with the word "unbroken" written around it. I can't decide if I want it on the back of my neck or my shoulder blade. I am probably going to wait until after the new year to get it.
Anyway, that's it for now.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Rough couple of days
So, I've had a rough couple of days.
I saw my dietitian last night and I finally opened up to her about my trauma. She already knew that something had happened, but didn't know much more than that. She told me she would be there for me when I was ready to talk to her about it. Last night I felt like I was in a safe enough place to do that. Pretty much halfway through talking about it I started to feel sick to my stomach. I probably should have stopped at that point, but I didn't. I did really want to tell my dietitian about it, and I knew she cared and would love me and support me regardless. But I also felt like if I told her I couldn't talk about it anymore, then I would be letting her down. I don't regret telling her, and I really felt the love from her (as I do every time I see her). At the end of our session she weighed me. It really got to me because...well I've been weighing myself. And the scale I have in my house is obviously different than my dietitian's. And so the number I saw last night at our appointment was pretty different than the number I saw the day before. But my dietitian explained to me that the number I was seeing at home was probably more accurate because, when she weighs me I'm wearing clothes, it's the end of the day, I have food in my stomach, etc. But it still upset me. And it just pissed me of and I was like, "Fuck the number on the scale!"
So, at the end of our session my dietitian walked down the parking lot with me because I was her last client of the day. I was getting pretty choked up on the elevator ride down. And I saw her look over at me, but she didn't say anything. When we got out to the parking lot, she put her stuff down, pulled me into her and gave me a big kiss on my forehead (I love when she does that) and held me for a long time. I just felt so safe and so loved in that moment. Noting I told her about my abuse made her think of me differently or think I was gross or stupid. She consoled me and comforted me. It felt really good. I really needed that.
But on my drive home I realized I needed to stop somewhere and get dinner. I was still feeling pretty sick from talking about my trauma. I bought dinner, and I ate it. But then I just...I don't know I really had an anxiety attack. I can't even remember now what was going on, but I just felt like I SO done talking about my abuse. I was done. I just don't want to talk about it ever again. It just makes me feel like crap. And then I got REALLY pissed off. Like really mad. Not at myself, but at my abusers. I just wanted to scream like...what the hell, why did you do this to me, fuck you, you ruined me. And then..and I don't know why..but I got mad at myself. Well, I do know why, but I just don't feel like getting into it because it's going to make me feel like crap.
So at this point, I wasn't feel too safe. I wanted to either binge/purge, or self harm. I texted my therapist. She told me to take deep breaths and go to sleep. I tried both but my mind was racing. I ended up self-harming. <--- Fail.
So, I woke up this morning and I was really sick. My throat hurt really bad yesterday, but today it hurt even worse. My voice was really hoarse. I was congested. I felt feverish and achy. I went to work, ate breakfast (even though I didn't want to). Work was pretty slow, so that was nice. Then I ate lunch (even though I didn't want to) and went to my next job. My therapist had texted me and asked how I was doing today. I told her about the self-harming last night. She just made sure I had something to do tonight to make sure I was safe. I took my temperature at my babysitting job and I had a low grade fever. I called the mom of the kids because I didn't know if she wanted me to go home so I wouldn't get the kids sick or whatever, but she said to just let the kids play outside and she was going to be home early anyway.
So, I went to my parent's house after work and had dinner there and watched TV. This night has been a lot better. I've been pretty numb emotionally today, but maybe that's just because I'm sick. I really hope tomorrow is better...in all ways.
I heard a song today that I wanted to share with yall because it just touched me so much and has such a great message. It's called "If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens. Look it up! ;)
I saw my dietitian last night and I finally opened up to her about my trauma. She already knew that something had happened, but didn't know much more than that. She told me she would be there for me when I was ready to talk to her about it. Last night I felt like I was in a safe enough place to do that. Pretty much halfway through talking about it I started to feel sick to my stomach. I probably should have stopped at that point, but I didn't. I did really want to tell my dietitian about it, and I knew she cared and would love me and support me regardless. But I also felt like if I told her I couldn't talk about it anymore, then I would be letting her down. I don't regret telling her, and I really felt the love from her (as I do every time I see her). At the end of our session she weighed me. It really got to me because...well I've been weighing myself. And the scale I have in my house is obviously different than my dietitian's. And so the number I saw last night at our appointment was pretty different than the number I saw the day before. But my dietitian explained to me that the number I was seeing at home was probably more accurate because, when she weighs me I'm wearing clothes, it's the end of the day, I have food in my stomach, etc. But it still upset me. And it just pissed me of and I was like, "Fuck the number on the scale!"
So, at the end of our session my dietitian walked down the parking lot with me because I was her last client of the day. I was getting pretty choked up on the elevator ride down. And I saw her look over at me, but she didn't say anything. When we got out to the parking lot, she put her stuff down, pulled me into her and gave me a big kiss on my forehead (I love when she does that) and held me for a long time. I just felt so safe and so loved in that moment. Noting I told her about my abuse made her think of me differently or think I was gross or stupid. She consoled me and comforted me. It felt really good. I really needed that.
But on my drive home I realized I needed to stop somewhere and get dinner. I was still feeling pretty sick from talking about my trauma. I bought dinner, and I ate it. But then I just...I don't know I really had an anxiety attack. I can't even remember now what was going on, but I just felt like I SO done talking about my abuse. I was done. I just don't want to talk about it ever again. It just makes me feel like crap. And then I got REALLY pissed off. Like really mad. Not at myself, but at my abusers. I just wanted to scream like...what the hell, why did you do this to me, fuck you, you ruined me. And then..and I don't know why..but I got mad at myself. Well, I do know why, but I just don't feel like getting into it because it's going to make me feel like crap.
So at this point, I wasn't feel too safe. I wanted to either binge/purge, or self harm. I texted my therapist. She told me to take deep breaths and go to sleep. I tried both but my mind was racing. I ended up self-harming. <--- Fail.
So, I woke up this morning and I was really sick. My throat hurt really bad yesterday, but today it hurt even worse. My voice was really hoarse. I was congested. I felt feverish and achy. I went to work, ate breakfast (even though I didn't want to). Work was pretty slow, so that was nice. Then I ate lunch (even though I didn't want to) and went to my next job. My therapist had texted me and asked how I was doing today. I told her about the self-harming last night. She just made sure I had something to do tonight to make sure I was safe. I took my temperature at my babysitting job and I had a low grade fever. I called the mom of the kids because I didn't know if she wanted me to go home so I wouldn't get the kids sick or whatever, but she said to just let the kids play outside and she was going to be home early anyway.
So, I went to my parent's house after work and had dinner there and watched TV. This night has been a lot better. I've been pretty numb emotionally today, but maybe that's just because I'm sick. I really hope tomorrow is better...in all ways.
I heard a song today that I wanted to share with yall because it just touched me so much and has such a great message. It's called "If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens. Look it up! ;)
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Stolen from Erin
I stole this idea of a blog post from my friend Erin. Hey Erin!!! I just thought I would do a more relaxed and upbeat blog post for once.
Ten Remuda moments
1. Trail rides with Dude
2. All of the theme days we had. Hat day, Pajama day, crazy hair day, beauty pageant.
3. Meeting the most amazing people
4. Everything MaryLou said or did
5. Bananagrams
6. Coming into our house after meals and sitting by the fire because it was so effing cold outside
7. Table games!
8. Strawberry chex mix
9. Going on pass to Five Below, Panera (which I'm sure they chose just because of me) and Cold Stone
10. Being knocked out by Neurontin
Ten favorite movies
1. 28 Days
2. You've Got Mail
3. The Breakfast Club
4. State of Play
5. Center Stage
6. Soul Surfer
7. Blue Crush
8. Contagion
9. 50 First Dates
10. Inception
Ten favorite gymnastics moments
1. Nastia Liukin winning all around gold in 2008 Olympics
2. Magnificent 7 winning team gold in 1996 Olympics
3. Alicia Sacramone winning gold medal on vault at 2010 world championships
4. Sabrina Vega making 2011 world championship team
5. Shannon Miller winning gold on beam at 1996 Olympics
6. Carly Patterson winning all around gold at 2004 Olympics
7. USA winning team gold at 2007 and 2011 world championships
8. Amanda Bordon's beam routine at team finals at 1996 Olympics
9. Kerri Strug's gold medal winning vault
10. Dominique Moceanu's floor routine at 1996 Olympics
Ten places I want to visit
1. Hawaii
2. Germany
3. France
4. England
5. Australia
6. Grand Canyon
7. Greece
8. San Francisco
9. Italy
10. South Africa
Ten favorite foods
1. Watermelon
2. Pizza
3. Guacamole
4. Craisins
5. Brunswick Stew
6. Greek Yogurt
7. Apples
8. Steamed white rice
9. Dark chocolate
10. Peanut Butter
Ten favorite TV shows (past or current)
1. Golden Girls
2. Chelsea Lately
3. Sex and the City
4. ER
5. Intervention
6. Ellen Degeneres Show
7. Mercy (too bad it was only one season)
8. Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew
9. Seinfeld
10. Law and OrderSVU
Ten most memorable moments in my life
1. Entering recovery from my eating disorder and all my other struggles
2. Winning LIS field hockey championships my senior year of high school
3. All of my accomplishments in diving, especially winning championships my final season
4. Visiting the Carribean for the first time
5. Wilderness Adventure Camp
6. Flying to Arizona. The view is amazing.
7. Getting my dogs, Lucy and Sophie
8. Hearing Kathleen MacDonald speak for the first time
9. Visiting New York City for the first time
10. My first encounter with Dude, my horse at Remuda
Ten websites I visit the most
1. Facebook
2. Twitter
3. Gmail
4. Blogspot
5. Tumblr
6. TMZ
7. International Gymnastics Forum
8. YouTube
9. Playlist.com
10. Pandora
Ten favorite things to do
1. Exercise/sports
2. Write
3. Be outdoors
4. Laugh
5. Give hugs
6. Crafts
7. Go the beach
8. Be with my best friends
9. Listen to music
10. Play with my dogs
Ten things I don't miss about Anorexia and Bulimia
1. Losing my hair
2. Being cold all the time
3. Fighting with my family
4. Not being able to sleep
5. Vomiting blood
6. Lying and being secretive
7. Hating everything about myself
8. Wanting to die
9. Hardly ever smiling or laughing
10. Believing that I was never going to get better and I was going to die from my disease
Ten Remuda moments
1. Trail rides with Dude
2. All of the theme days we had. Hat day, Pajama day, crazy hair day, beauty pageant.
3. Meeting the most amazing people
4. Everything MaryLou said or did
5. Bananagrams
6. Coming into our house after meals and sitting by the fire because it was so effing cold outside
7. Table games!
8. Strawberry chex mix
9. Going on pass to Five Below, Panera (which I'm sure they chose just because of me) and Cold Stone
10. Being knocked out by Neurontin
Ten favorite movies
1. 28 Days
2. You've Got Mail
3. The Breakfast Club
4. State of Play
5. Center Stage
6. Soul Surfer
7. Blue Crush
8. Contagion
9. 50 First Dates
10. Inception
Ten favorite gymnastics moments
1. Nastia Liukin winning all around gold in 2008 Olympics
2. Magnificent 7 winning team gold in 1996 Olympics
3. Alicia Sacramone winning gold medal on vault at 2010 world championships
4. Sabrina Vega making 2011 world championship team
5. Shannon Miller winning gold on beam at 1996 Olympics
6. Carly Patterson winning all around gold at 2004 Olympics
7. USA winning team gold at 2007 and 2011 world championships
8. Amanda Bordon's beam routine at team finals at 1996 Olympics
9. Kerri Strug's gold medal winning vault
10. Dominique Moceanu's floor routine at 1996 Olympics
Ten places I want to visit
1. Hawaii
2. Germany
3. France
4. England
5. Australia
6. Grand Canyon
7. Greece
8. San Francisco
9. Italy
10. South Africa
Ten favorite foods
1. Watermelon
2. Pizza
3. Guacamole
4. Craisins
5. Brunswick Stew
6. Greek Yogurt
7. Apples
8. Steamed white rice
9. Dark chocolate
10. Peanut Butter
Ten favorite TV shows (past or current)
1. Golden Girls
2. Chelsea Lately
3. Sex and the City
4. ER
5. Intervention
6. Ellen Degeneres Show
7. Mercy (too bad it was only one season)
8. Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew
9. Seinfeld
10. Law and OrderSVU
Ten most memorable moments in my life
1. Entering recovery from my eating disorder and all my other struggles
2. Winning LIS field hockey championships my senior year of high school
3. All of my accomplishments in diving, especially winning championships my final season
4. Visiting the Carribean for the first time
5. Wilderness Adventure Camp
6. Flying to Arizona. The view is amazing.
7. Getting my dogs, Lucy and Sophie
8. Hearing Kathleen MacDonald speak for the first time
9. Visiting New York City for the first time
10. My first encounter with Dude, my horse at Remuda
Ten websites I visit the most
1. Facebook
2. Twitter
3. Gmail
4. Blogspot
5. Tumblr
6. TMZ
7. International Gymnastics Forum
8. YouTube
9. Playlist.com
10. Pandora
Ten favorite things to do
1. Exercise/sports
2. Write
3. Be outdoors
4. Laugh
5. Give hugs
6. Crafts
7. Go the beach
8. Be with my best friends
9. Listen to music
10. Play with my dogs
Ten things I don't miss about Anorexia and Bulimia
1. Losing my hair
2. Being cold all the time
3. Fighting with my family
4. Not being able to sleep
5. Vomiting blood
6. Lying and being secretive
7. Hating everything about myself
8. Wanting to die
9. Hardly ever smiling or laughing
10. Believing that I was never going to get better and I was going to die from my disease
Friday, November 11, 2011
Bad night
I am having a horrible night.
I am really depressed. I think my OCD is popping up too. I really want to clean the entire house top to bottom but I feel like that would make me feel worse because I would get exhausted and just get frustrated because I couldn't do it good enough.
I have tried things tonight to feel better. I took a bubble bath. I felt okay for a little bit. But then I got depressed again. I put on my favorite show, but it didn't make me laugh like it usually does. I tried to text my therapist and one of my friends, but it's late so I'm guess they didn't answer because they are asleep.
All I can think of doing is self-harming.
I'm not suicidal, I wouldn't try and kill myself, but in moments like these, death seems so much better. I hope I don't scare people by saying that. But it's just these moments get me down SO much.
Self-harming would not solve anything. Maybe I would feel better for an hour, but after that I would just feel worse.
I want to cry. But I feel like that's all I've done the past couple of days. I'm just so sick of it.
Everything feels wrong and out of place and I want to fucking scream at the top of my lungs.
I went to a surprise birthday party tonight. It was pretty miserable. I barely ate anything, which means I didn't have dinner tonight. I feel awful about that. I was not hungry. And I'm still not hungry.
My head is pounding. Probably because I have allergies and I haven't eaten that great today.
I hope this weekend that I can start to feel better.
I'm so sick of this shit.
I am really depressed. I think my OCD is popping up too. I really want to clean the entire house top to bottom but I feel like that would make me feel worse because I would get exhausted and just get frustrated because I couldn't do it good enough.
I have tried things tonight to feel better. I took a bubble bath. I felt okay for a little bit. But then I got depressed again. I put on my favorite show, but it didn't make me laugh like it usually does. I tried to text my therapist and one of my friends, but it's late so I'm guess they didn't answer because they are asleep.
All I can think of doing is self-harming.
I'm not suicidal, I wouldn't try and kill myself, but in moments like these, death seems so much better. I hope I don't scare people by saying that. But it's just these moments get me down SO much.
Self-harming would not solve anything. Maybe I would feel better for an hour, but after that I would just feel worse.
I want to cry. But I feel like that's all I've done the past couple of days. I'm just so sick of it.
Everything feels wrong and out of place and I want to fucking scream at the top of my lungs.
I went to a surprise birthday party tonight. It was pretty miserable. I barely ate anything, which means I didn't have dinner tonight. I feel awful about that. I was not hungry. And I'm still not hungry.
My head is pounding. Probably because I have allergies and I haven't eaten that great today.
I hope this weekend that I can start to feel better.
I'm so sick of this shit.
Re-visiting the past
I saw my therapist yesterday. We talked about the email that I had sent her. Which was the same blog post I wrote last week about my trauma. I was terrified to talk about it. But she led me through it, and supported me the whole way through. It was tough. When talking about my trauma are the moments when I have the most trouble finding my voice, which makes sense I guess. I don't want to get into details on my blog. I don't really like to go into details about my abuse on the internet. Only 4 people in the world know exactly everything that happened. That would be me, the people who abused me, my current therapist, and my therapist from Remuda.
But it was a really hard session. I told her something I have never spoken of before. Something I beat myself up for. I realize that I still hold on to a lot of shame. I still blame myself. My therapist talked about how it was not my fault. My reaction of being paralyzed physically and emotionally, was something that occurs quite often to abuse victims. When she said that, it made sense. I can understand that. But I feel like I still need to get to the point where I can say to myself, "I did everything I could in those moments. I was just a little girl. It was his fault, not mine." I think I can get there one day. It will just take time.
I told my therapist about how lately I have been wanting to go back to the place it occurred. She thinks it's a good idea. She mentioned that maybe we can take a field trip together to do that one day. I might take her up on that offer if she truly meant it. I think it would be good to go back there and remember all the good things that happened there, not just the terrible things. I think I would be able to make peace with it, to forgive myself, to take a step further in my healing process.
I left therapy feeling better. But it didn't last long. I got to my first job and my anxiety re-surfaced. I was a mess. No appetite, trembling, unable to breathe, exhausted. I was miserable. I went to my second job, the house to babysit the kids. I had about 20 minutes before I had to walk up to the bus stop. So I did something that my therapist had suggested in our session that day. I laid down on the couch, put on my favorite relaxing Pandora station on my iPod touch, and tried to take some deep breaths. Within about a minute I was crying. I thought about how much I loathe talking about my trauma, even though I know it's what I need to do in order to fully heal. I thought about how much I just want to ignore it and run away from it. And then I started crying more because of how much I hate my anxiety. It's the worst feeling in the world in my opinion. I don't just suffer from your normal anxiety. I have an anxiety disorder and it absolutely sucks. It's more than just a feeling in your head, it attacks my body. Anxiety scares me more than any other feeling. It just pisses me off when it gets this bad. It makes me so angry. And so I was crying because I just want it to go away. And then I started crying because I was missing my grandmother. She passed away 11 years ago, but I guess talking about the abuse (which happened a year before she passed away) made me think of her. At this point I was practically sobbing. I had to pull myself together and go walk up to the bus stop. I was breathing easier, and my anxiety had decreased. And the cold weather outside was soothing. I was doing pretty well all throughout the rest of my time babysitting. And then when it was time to go home, my anxiety popped back up. It wasn't so much anxiety as it was, just pure exhaustion and sadness and being overwhelmed. I had already taken my as needed Klonopin dose when I got to work. And then when I got back to my house I took another dose. I'm allowed to take up to 3 a day, so it's no biggie that I took two. So I put on my sweatpants and hoodie and crawled under my covers and fell asleep. I slept for the next 4 hours. When I woke up, my anxiety was gone, but I started crying again. I stayed awake for a couple hours and then wrote an email to my therapist (the second one that day) and then went back to sleep.
Today has been better. No crying, almost though. My anxiety has been better, but not all the way gone. I was able to eat lunch without almost having a panic attack. Now I'm at my parent's house because we are going to my godmother's surprise birthday part in about an hour. That should be fun. My little sister is home from college this weekend, and it will be nice to see family tonight. I'm not too worried about the food. Hopefully it won't cause a lot of anxiety.
I texted one of my best friends, Michelle, today. I love that girl. She was at the walk last weekend. She told me how great of a week she has been having since the walk. I told her about my day yesterday and she was super supportive and understanding and caring. I told her that we HAVE to see each other over Christmas. I can't wait.
I don't have anything going on this weekend. I will probably sleep late both days and spend time with my dogs and my family and watch lots of TV and movies. I am getting a much needed massage on Monday morning from my good friend Karen. And then I have an appointment with my dietitian on Monday night. I am REALLY looking forward to that. I know it will be a good session. I will be opening up to her about my abuse for the first time. She is the most supportive and caring person I know and I know I will feel better after telling her.
That's all for now. My hope and belief in full recovery is still alive. As hard as the past couple of weeks have been, I still feel strong and have a will to fight and survive. It feels great.
But it was a really hard session. I told her something I have never spoken of before. Something I beat myself up for. I realize that I still hold on to a lot of shame. I still blame myself. My therapist talked about how it was not my fault. My reaction of being paralyzed physically and emotionally, was something that occurs quite often to abuse victims. When she said that, it made sense. I can understand that. But I feel like I still need to get to the point where I can say to myself, "I did everything I could in those moments. I was just a little girl. It was his fault, not mine." I think I can get there one day. It will just take time.
I told my therapist about how lately I have been wanting to go back to the place it occurred. She thinks it's a good idea. She mentioned that maybe we can take a field trip together to do that one day. I might take her up on that offer if she truly meant it. I think it would be good to go back there and remember all the good things that happened there, not just the terrible things. I think I would be able to make peace with it, to forgive myself, to take a step further in my healing process.
I left therapy feeling better. But it didn't last long. I got to my first job and my anxiety re-surfaced. I was a mess. No appetite, trembling, unable to breathe, exhausted. I was miserable. I went to my second job, the house to babysit the kids. I had about 20 minutes before I had to walk up to the bus stop. So I did something that my therapist had suggested in our session that day. I laid down on the couch, put on my favorite relaxing Pandora station on my iPod touch, and tried to take some deep breaths. Within about a minute I was crying. I thought about how much I loathe talking about my trauma, even though I know it's what I need to do in order to fully heal. I thought about how much I just want to ignore it and run away from it. And then I started crying more because of how much I hate my anxiety. It's the worst feeling in the world in my opinion. I don't just suffer from your normal anxiety. I have an anxiety disorder and it absolutely sucks. It's more than just a feeling in your head, it attacks my body. Anxiety scares me more than any other feeling. It just pisses me off when it gets this bad. It makes me so angry. And so I was crying because I just want it to go away. And then I started crying because I was missing my grandmother. She passed away 11 years ago, but I guess talking about the abuse (which happened a year before she passed away) made me think of her. At this point I was practically sobbing. I had to pull myself together and go walk up to the bus stop. I was breathing easier, and my anxiety had decreased. And the cold weather outside was soothing. I was doing pretty well all throughout the rest of my time babysitting. And then when it was time to go home, my anxiety popped back up. It wasn't so much anxiety as it was, just pure exhaustion and sadness and being overwhelmed. I had already taken my as needed Klonopin dose when I got to work. And then when I got back to my house I took another dose. I'm allowed to take up to 3 a day, so it's no biggie that I took two. So I put on my sweatpants and hoodie and crawled under my covers and fell asleep. I slept for the next 4 hours. When I woke up, my anxiety was gone, but I started crying again. I stayed awake for a couple hours and then wrote an email to my therapist (the second one that day) and then went back to sleep.
Today has been better. No crying, almost though. My anxiety has been better, but not all the way gone. I was able to eat lunch without almost having a panic attack. Now I'm at my parent's house because we are going to my godmother's surprise birthday part in about an hour. That should be fun. My little sister is home from college this weekend, and it will be nice to see family tonight. I'm not too worried about the food. Hopefully it won't cause a lot of anxiety.
I texted one of my best friends, Michelle, today. I love that girl. She was at the walk last weekend. She told me how great of a week she has been having since the walk. I told her about my day yesterday and she was super supportive and understanding and caring. I told her that we HAVE to see each other over Christmas. I can't wait.
I don't have anything going on this weekend. I will probably sleep late both days and spend time with my dogs and my family and watch lots of TV and movies. I am getting a much needed massage on Monday morning from my good friend Karen. And then I have an appointment with my dietitian on Monday night. I am REALLY looking forward to that. I know it will be a good session. I will be opening up to her about my abuse for the first time. She is the most supportive and caring person I know and I know I will feel better after telling her.
That's all for now. My hope and belief in full recovery is still alive. As hard as the past couple of weeks have been, I still feel strong and have a will to fight and survive. It feels great.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
I wish I was "better"
I don't mean better in terms of my recovery, because that's something that's such a process. And I accept that one day I will be recovered, but it definitely won't happen over night. What I'm talk about is...I wish I was better at things I am passionate about.
I love to write. I always have. I have been told that I am a great writer, that I am great at expressing myself through writing. It's so much easier for me to write than it is to talk. I want to write a book. I want to write essays about my journey and my life. But I wish I was better at writing. I compare my writing to other people's, not famous authors or anything, but other bloggers. And, I wish I could write like them. They write so beautifully. It flows and just...works.
I want to be better at writing.
I want to be better at working out/exercising. I was an athlete growing up. I was involved in sports all year round. I was told I had a natural athletic talent and ability that many people dream of. I LOVED playing sports. It made me happy. It made me feel whole. It made me feel confident. I was good at it. I won lots of awards. I accomplished ALOT. But I wish I was better. And now that I'm not involved in organized sports, I have to figure out on my own how to get back to that place of...being athletic and loving being active. It's so hard to be active on my own, especially when I'm tired, and somewhat depressed. I just can't find the motivation. It sucks. Being active was such a HUGE part of my life, and I miss it. Why can't I get motivated? I'm scared I won't ever be in the kind of shape I was my senior year of high school.
I want to be a better friend. I've never had a close group of friends, not even in high school or middle school. I didn't go away to college after graduating high school and i feel like because of that I didn't get the opportunity to form a close knit group of friends. I had a best friend that I met in treatment 8 years ago. But she sort of stopped talking to me a year ago. We have recently re-connected but we are both so different now. I love her to death, but we just sort of grew apart. My best friend now is Erin, we met in treatment earlier this year. She lives in Maryland though, so we don't get to hang out too often. I don't really have a social life. And I hate that. That needs to change. And with the friends I do have, I wish I was a better friend to them. I wish I had the right words to say, and just have it come naturally to me. That makes me sad. I am lonely a lot.
This was a depressing post. But something I needed to get off my chest.
I love to write. I always have. I have been told that I am a great writer, that I am great at expressing myself through writing. It's so much easier for me to write than it is to talk. I want to write a book. I want to write essays about my journey and my life. But I wish I was better at writing. I compare my writing to other people's, not famous authors or anything, but other bloggers. And, I wish I could write like them. They write so beautifully. It flows and just...works.
I want to be better at writing.
I want to be better at working out/exercising. I was an athlete growing up. I was involved in sports all year round. I was told I had a natural athletic talent and ability that many people dream of. I LOVED playing sports. It made me happy. It made me feel whole. It made me feel confident. I was good at it. I won lots of awards. I accomplished ALOT. But I wish I was better. And now that I'm not involved in organized sports, I have to figure out on my own how to get back to that place of...being athletic and loving being active. It's so hard to be active on my own, especially when I'm tired, and somewhat depressed. I just can't find the motivation. It sucks. Being active was such a HUGE part of my life, and I miss it. Why can't I get motivated? I'm scared I won't ever be in the kind of shape I was my senior year of high school.
I want to be a better friend. I've never had a close group of friends, not even in high school or middle school. I didn't go away to college after graduating high school and i feel like because of that I didn't get the opportunity to form a close knit group of friends. I had a best friend that I met in treatment 8 years ago. But she sort of stopped talking to me a year ago. We have recently re-connected but we are both so different now. I love her to death, but we just sort of grew apart. My best friend now is Erin, we met in treatment earlier this year. She lives in Maryland though, so we don't get to hang out too often. I don't really have a social life. And I hate that. That needs to change. And with the friends I do have, I wish I was a better friend to them. I wish I had the right words to say, and just have it come naturally to me. That makes me sad. I am lonely a lot.
This was a depressing post. But something I needed to get off my chest.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
NEDA walk
Kathleen and I
Ashley, me and MichelleI attended the 3rd Annual National Eating Disorder Awareness (NEDA) Walk in Charlottesville, Virginia yesterday. I left my house in Richmond at 8:15am and got there at around 9:30. The most nervewracking part of the day was driving there, and driving home. I hate driving places where I don't know exactly where I am going and have never been before. My dad wrote out the directions and I was pretty confident about it because it seemed pretty simple. And it was. I got a little lost, but called my dad and all I had to do was make a U turn and go a few blocks and I was there!
I met my two friends there from Remuda, Michelle and Ashley. It was SO good to see the both of them. The reunion was amazing, especially with Ashley, who I haven't seen since March. She gives the best hugs! We bought matching NEDA t-shirts and took some pictures. Then Kathleen MacDonald spoke. I heard her speak two weeks ago, but hearing her speak again yesterday still moved me to tears. She brought along her dog Gretz, who is a big part of her story. Then the walk started. It was a 5k through the grounds of the University of Virginia. The Fall foilage was beautiful. The weather was a little chilly, but once we started walking it warmed up. Ashley, Michelle and I reminisced about our days at Remuda Ranch, laughing at all the funny things that happened. Michelle's mom was there with us too and she was laughing at all of our stories as well. It felt SO good to laugh with true friends.
After the walk, it was time for lunch. In my opinion this was the most awkward part of the day, but sort of in a funny way. Food at an eating disorder awareness walk? Haha, I guess it makes sense though. It wasn't awkward for me though, I had no trouble eating my sandwich. But I could tell that other people around me were sort of nervous. After that, we just stood around talking and Kathleen took the microphone and made another little speech, again...so inspiring. The person who organized the walk also told a little bit of her story. It was so good to be in company of so many people who shared the some struggles and triumphs as me. Then, the organizer of the walk said that anyone who wanted to speak was welcome to come up and do so. The first person was a high school girl who recently got out of treatment a month ago. She shed tears and she spoke of the pain and misery she lived with for so many years, and shed even more tears as she spoke of how amazing she feels today. I ended up choking up as well. I remembered when I was that age and struggling with my ED and I really wanted to go up and talk to her and give her a hug because I just saw so much of myself in her. I didn't get a chance to do that, I wish I had. A couple other people came up and told their stories as well. And then...I went up there. Now, let me just tell you. I used to be terrified of public speaking. Terrified. And in some ways I still am. But I guess when it comes to sharing my story and hoping in some way to inspire people or get them to think or get help, I don't get all that nervous. If I had spoken in public a year ago, I would have peed my pants or had a panic attack. So anyway, I got up there and I said this (or at least something along these lines): "My name is Holly. I came up here from Richmond today. I have had an eating disorder for almost 9 years. I went to treatment at Remuda Ranch in Arizona when I was 15 for 4 months. I did well for a couple years, but slowly started to relapse. About a year ago I relapsed really bad and was struggling a lot. On February 10 of this year I was desperate to take my own life. I went to my therapist that morning and told her I needed help and that I was not safe. I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital for 5 days. On the day I was discharged I was admitted to Remuda Ranch in Virginia. I was there for 30 days and then transferred to the Remuda Life Program in Arizona for 14 days. So I have been home about 7 months. I am the healthiest and happiest I have ever been in my 23 years of life. I heard Kathleen speak two weeks ago and it was the most inspirational and moving thing I have ever heard in my life. I owe a lot to her. She sort of saved my life earlier this year and I am so thankful for her. (Kathleen started crying) I am so thankful for my friends that are here today, Ashley and Michelle. I am just so thankful for my family, my friends, and God, who have brought me to the place I am today. Full recovery is possible, for everyone." So that was my little speech. Suprisingly I wasn't all that nervous. My voice didn't shake, and I only stumbled with a couple of words. Kathleen took the microphone after I did said something about how I am a pro at sucking it up and just going at recovery. That made me smile, and humbled.
So after that I had a chance to speak to Kathleen. I gave her a journal entry that I actually shared on my blog a couple weeks ago after I heard her speak. I wanted her to have the hard copy. I told her I would definitely be in Washington D.C. in April for Lobby Day. Ashley, Michelle, and her mom also had a chance to speak to Kathleen too.
After that it was time to go home. It was sad leaving Michelle and Ashley, but we are all going to try and meet up around Christmas, along with a couple of our other friends from Remuda. The drive home was easy and I had no problems. I blasted my music and thought about all the amazing things I had witnessed that morning.
I woke up today still in awe and still inspired from yesterday. It was a great experience. If you ever have a chance to attend a NEDA walk, I highly encourage you to do so. Just simply amazing.
Well, that's all I have for now. I will update later on in the week!
Friday, November 4, 2011
The road
I had an appointment with my dietitian tonight. We figured out together why my anxiety has been so bad. She asked me to go home and write about it, and then email it to her and my therapist. I did that and now I'm sharing it on my blog. This is probably one of the rawest, honest, and painful essays I have written. So I'm a little nervous about posting it. I'm not asking for anything, just maybe some encouragement, or if you are going through, or have been through something similar, to maybe add some words of wisdom. Thanks.
I have this image in my head that won't leave me alone. I'm walking down the road leading up to the school where the abuse took place. I walk through the big iron gates, past a wooded area, past the soccer field and the play ground, but then the images stop, right before I see the school. I think I am too scared to walk any farther. I don't want to go inside. Why would I? But I don't want to see the iron gates or the soccer fields or the play ground either. Because they remind me of the happy girl I once was. The girl I was before he stole my happiness, my power, and my safety.
When I left Remuda, I didn't think I was scared of him anymore. But I am. He still has power over me, even though it's been 11 years. I know he shouldn't, and I really don't want him to. But the fear he left me with still lives inside me today. I think part of me still feels I was at fault. I have said it and written it many times. That even though I was younger and smaller, I was strong as an ox from gymnastics. I could have pulled away, run away, hit him, or screamed. And I did none of those things, for reasons I may never understand. I think in order to really heal, I need to forgive myself. I don't know how to do that.
The flashbacks are not as intense nor as frequent as they once were, but they are still there. I have learned to deal with them. But the feelings are still so, so intense. Sadness. Pain. Hurt. Fear. Grief. Helplessness. Loneliness. Cold. Dirty. But mostly fear. The sounds and smells of the times he abused me are still very real in my head.
I have been thinking about what happened quite a bit lately. I'm not sure why. Maybe I need to figure that out. I want to talk about it in therapy, but I hold myself back. It's still a very painful place for me to visit, and I hate how hard it is for me to talk about.
I am usually really good at expressing my feelings. But it's hard for me to express my feelings about my abuse. There don't seem to be enough words to fully and truly explain how sad and hurt I feel. I guess I get frustrated by that.
I have been wanting to express my feelings about this for quite some time, but haven't because I'm scared to talk about it. So my feelings about it have been manifesting into anxiety.
I guess I need to talk about it. But I am scared, and I need your help. Because although I can talk about how it makes me feel, I don't know what to do beyond that. I feel stuck.
I have this image in my head that won't leave me alone. I'm walking down the road leading up to the school where the abuse took place. I walk through the big iron gates, past a wooded area, past the soccer field and the play ground, but then the images stop, right before I see the school. I think I am too scared to walk any farther. I don't want to go inside. Why would I? But I don't want to see the iron gates or the soccer fields or the play ground either. Because they remind me of the happy girl I once was. The girl I was before he stole my happiness, my power, and my safety.
When I left Remuda, I didn't think I was scared of him anymore. But I am. He still has power over me, even though it's been 11 years. I know he shouldn't, and I really don't want him to. But the fear he left me with still lives inside me today. I think part of me still feels I was at fault. I have said it and written it many times. That even though I was younger and smaller, I was strong as an ox from gymnastics. I could have pulled away, run away, hit him, or screamed. And I did none of those things, for reasons I may never understand. I think in order to really heal, I need to forgive myself. I don't know how to do that.
The flashbacks are not as intense nor as frequent as they once were, but they are still there. I have learned to deal with them. But the feelings are still so, so intense. Sadness. Pain. Hurt. Fear. Grief. Helplessness. Loneliness. Cold. Dirty. But mostly fear. The sounds and smells of the times he abused me are still very real in my head.
I have been thinking about what happened quite a bit lately. I'm not sure why. Maybe I need to figure that out. I want to talk about it in therapy, but I hold myself back. It's still a very painful place for me to visit, and I hate how hard it is for me to talk about.
I am usually really good at expressing my feelings. But it's hard for me to express my feelings about my abuse. There don't seem to be enough words to fully and truly explain how sad and hurt I feel. I guess I get frustrated by that.
I have been wanting to express my feelings about this for quite some time, but haven't because I'm scared to talk about it. So my feelings about it have been manifesting into anxiety.
I guess I need to talk about it. But I am scared, and I need your help. Because although I can talk about how it makes me feel, I don't know what to do beyond that. I feel stuck.
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