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/
Saturday, November 26, 2011
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.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
overwhelmed
So if you are expecting another super positive blog post, you aren't going to get one. Don't get me wrong, things are still going well, but I also sense that I am backsliding. Not so much with food though. I have had a couple bad days, but nothing horrible. I am still eating something at all three meals of the day. But I have NO APPETITE. It sucksss. I want to be hungry so badly, so eating will be easier. I can't really figure out why I'm not hungry. I guess it could be stress and depression. Not so much anxiety though.
I've been really stressed out. I just have so much on my plate right now. My schedule feels jam packed. I had to cancel a coffee date with someone tonight because I was too exhausted to do it. I barely made it through today. It's really quite pathetic. I saw my psychiatrist this morning and he mentioned how I seem quieter and depressed. He thinks my state of exhaustion might have to do with my medications. So he is having me cut my Klonopin in half. I'm really nervous about cutting back on my anxiety meds because I am absolutely terrified of having debilitating anxiety like I did last year. But I'm willing to give it a try. I almost started crying when I was talking to him this morning. I just felt so tired and didn't want to take on the day, or the rest of the week really. I somehow found the energy to get through today.
I am feeling so much better about recovery, but there still are things that haunt me. I still get jealous when I see a really skinny girl. I think to myself, "God I wish I had gotten that thin. Then I would have accomplished something!" I know that in reality, those girls are miserable and suffering. Bu sometimes there are parts of me that think that having an ED is "glamorous". Such bullshit, I know. And now I also get jealous of people who are doing better in their recovery than me, or are farther along. I just feel like I should have made more progress by now. Like, I have been in therapy once, sometimes twice a week for the past 9 years. That's a lot of therapy. Although, I haven't worked on my core issues until the past 2 years so...I guess it's not too bad.
I just hate how slow my recovery seems to be going. But I guess better that than falling back into a full blown relapse and overdosing or dying from my ED. My very best friend who I was in treatment with this past February and March is doing so well! I am so, so proud of her. But I also feel like my progress is insignificant compared to hers. That sounds so bad doesn't it? I wish I could wake up tomorrow and have ED be gone. But it's not like that, not at all. It's such a process, such a long process. And that frustrates me sometimes. But I'm in it for the long haul.
I have been having a lot of feelings of detachment and feeling disconnected from my body lately. I'm not sure of the cause exactly. Possibly I am just so stressed out and overwhelmed that I am subconsciously disconnecting myself from my feelings and all my stressors. I will definitely be bringing this up in therapy tomorrow.
I am so, so excited for the ED awareness walk this weekend. My two really good friends from Remuda are coming too! I haven't seen Michelle since May when she and Erin came here to visit. And I haven't seen Ashley since the day I left the Ranch to fly out to RLP in Arizona, back in March. I am so excited to see Ashley. We both had the same admit date and the same discharge date. We were roomies. The chairs we sat in during the day were right next to each other. We had the same Family Week. I felt such a bond with her. It will be so good to see her again!
Well my mind is just throwing out thoughts left and right and I just really can't handle it right now. My eyes are starting to fill with tears and I do not want to cry. It's 8pm and I could totally go to bed for the night right now. I'm probably going to stay up for a couple more hours though and watch TV.
I will update more hopefully this weekend.
I've been really stressed out. I just have so much on my plate right now. My schedule feels jam packed. I had to cancel a coffee date with someone tonight because I was too exhausted to do it. I barely made it through today. It's really quite pathetic. I saw my psychiatrist this morning and he mentioned how I seem quieter and depressed. He thinks my state of exhaustion might have to do with my medications. So he is having me cut my Klonopin in half. I'm really nervous about cutting back on my anxiety meds because I am absolutely terrified of having debilitating anxiety like I did last year. But I'm willing to give it a try. I almost started crying when I was talking to him this morning. I just felt so tired and didn't want to take on the day, or the rest of the week really. I somehow found the energy to get through today.
I am feeling so much better about recovery, but there still are things that haunt me. I still get jealous when I see a really skinny girl. I think to myself, "God I wish I had gotten that thin. Then I would have accomplished something!" I know that in reality, those girls are miserable and suffering. Bu sometimes there are parts of me that think that having an ED is "glamorous". Such bullshit, I know. And now I also get jealous of people who are doing better in their recovery than me, or are farther along. I just feel like I should have made more progress by now. Like, I have been in therapy once, sometimes twice a week for the past 9 years. That's a lot of therapy. Although, I haven't worked on my core issues until the past 2 years so...I guess it's not too bad.
I just hate how slow my recovery seems to be going. But I guess better that than falling back into a full blown relapse and overdosing or dying from my ED. My very best friend who I was in treatment with this past February and March is doing so well! I am so, so proud of her. But I also feel like my progress is insignificant compared to hers. That sounds so bad doesn't it? I wish I could wake up tomorrow and have ED be gone. But it's not like that, not at all. It's such a process, such a long process. And that frustrates me sometimes. But I'm in it for the long haul.
I have been having a lot of feelings of detachment and feeling disconnected from my body lately. I'm not sure of the cause exactly. Possibly I am just so stressed out and overwhelmed that I am subconsciously disconnecting myself from my feelings and all my stressors. I will definitely be bringing this up in therapy tomorrow.
I am so, so excited for the ED awareness walk this weekend. My two really good friends from Remuda are coming too! I haven't seen Michelle since May when she and Erin came here to visit. And I haven't seen Ashley since the day I left the Ranch to fly out to RLP in Arizona, back in March. I am so excited to see Ashley. We both had the same admit date and the same discharge date. We were roomies. The chairs we sat in during the day were right next to each other. We had the same Family Week. I felt such a bond with her. It will be so good to see her again!
Well my mind is just throwing out thoughts left and right and I just really can't handle it right now. My eyes are starting to fill with tears and I do not want to cry. It's 8pm and I could totally go to bed for the night right now. I'm probably going to stay up for a couple more hours though and watch TV.
I will update more hopefully this weekend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)