A look back on 2012

hopeless

I haven't been this depressed since July, when I was in the hospital for my depression and suicide plans. I guess what's different is that I have no active plans to kill myself. Part of me wishes I had the guts to do it. It's like I'm miserably stuck in both places, wanting to live and wanting to die. It's a place that's all too familiar.

But I feel very frustrated and irritable. I have no motivation to change things. Even though I'm the loneliest I've ever been, the thought of going out and being more social is unappealing to me and is quite frankly terrifying and depressing. I don't feel needed, by anyone. I stayed alive over the summer because of the family I nanny for. Yes, they need me. I am their babysitter and I have been by a couple different people that if I ever hurt myself, they would be devastated. I know they would. And I'm a horrible person for believe that that isn't enough to keep on going. How selfish of me.

I'm taking my medication, which is something new I'm trying. I'm not convinced it's working. But I take it to put my treatment team at ease. I'm very scared of ending back up in the hospital. It's not some place I want to be. It's cold, sterile, depressing and causes more problems. I keep trying to make myself believe that things will get better. But, it's just not happening. I keep thinking...either I'm going to end up in the hospital again, or I'm going to die.

My parents have no clue what is going on. Maybe my mom suspects something, but I just don't want to explain it. If I were to be admitted to the hospital, they would freak out. I think they would be angry that they didn't know that I was having such a hard time. I'm stressing over the fact that they have a right to know, but not wanting to burden them...as I have done for years.

Even though I'm unmotivated, I'm desperate to see and talk to my therapist, who has been out of the office. She always helps me to get back on track. I need her help. I can't seem to help myself these days. I'm not even really eating, now that I think about it. I just don't think about it. I just lay in bed all day.

I would love nothing more than to take back my hope, to feel joy, to come out of the depths of this depression, to thrive, and not just survive. I really want that for myself. The problem is, I don't think I'm capable of it. I don't think that I'm worthy. I don't think it's in my future plans.

Trauma issues are very present and a roadblock to feeling safe again. I've had intense flashbacks, nightmares, and overwhelming emotions. I don't feel like going into it. A big anniversary is coming up in a few weeks. I'm beyond anxious for it.

My memory is terrible. I literally feel like I'm losing my mind.  I wonder if it's an effect of the trauma. I have no idea. I just want to feel like I know what's going on around me.

I have a sick feeling in my stomach. I have the worst panic feeling in my chest. Depression is making me sick. I'm really, really scared of going back to work on Monday. I can't even imagine how I'm going to deal with it. Here comes that panic feeling in my chest again.

I'm not sure what to do. I see my therapist on Wednesday. I wish it would hurry up. I'm hanging on by a thread.

I survived the holidays (so far)

This is my least favorite time of year. I used to love Christmas as a kid, but as I've grown older, it's been tainted with memories of hospitalizations, treatment center stays, deep depression, and traumatic events. I survived this year. I think it really helped being off of work this week. I have been able to relax, which is something I haven't done in many months. My parent's held a Christmas Eve party at their house with close friends and family, and then turned out to be okay I guess. Christmas morning and opening presents was enjoyable as well, and then I just napped/relaxed the rest of the day.

My therapist is out of the office this week and won't be back until next Wednesday. I was freaking out a lot about her being gone and was scared I wouldn't be able to handle it. So, I told her exactly that, and she was very supportive and reassuring. During our session last week, she called another therapist in her office (that was actually the clinical director at RR East when I was there) and he agreed to see me this week just so I can have someone to check in with. That eased my fears a lot. It's been so busy with shopping, parties, gifts, etc the past few days that I haven't had much time to think of anything else. Which is good I guess. I did end up sobbing in my childhood bedroom on Christmas Day. I felt so full of sadness, over so many things. It was so overwhelming and lonely. Now I feel depressed and anxious, and mostly full of fear.

I saw my psychiatrist today, which was good to have his support as well. He convinced me to talk to my therapist about some things I want to try in therapy. I don't know why I'm scared to talk to her about it. Actually, I think I'm scared to talk to her about it because I'm scared she will leave me in some way, shape, or form...just like everyone else. But, I can't wait to see her next week and be open and honest with her.

I'm so worried about going back to work next week. I just don't want to. It stresses me out SO much. It often feels like it's slowly killing me, or making me want to kill myself. I'm really unhappy, which really isn't anything new. But it feels more paralyzing by the day.

It feels like a hopeless situation.

really struggling emotionally

I don't really know how I'm getting through the days right now. Probably because I'm in therapy twice a week. And I'm sure my medications are having me holding on by a thread. And, the once in a while good or fun thing that happens. But that's it.

I'm really depressed. Nights are the hardest. I get this heavy/panic feeling in my chest. And I get scared. I'm not sure what I'm scared of. I just feel like I need to talk to someone. In the back of my head, I know things I can do to soothe or calm myself. But it's so hard to remember to do that. I am borderline suicidal. I say borderline because I don't have any plans to kill myself. But I am miserable. I feel like I'm in a deep, endless black hole. Like, I'm so, so unhappy.

I'm terrified because my therapist is going to be out of the office next week, and I won't see her for two weeks. And I won't be able to call her I don't think. She gave me the pager number of her partner in the office next to her. But I wouldn't really feel comfortable calling her unless it was an urgent crisis. I've never even met her.
I'm just really, really scared that I'm not going to be able to communicate with my therapist. More scared than I am willing admit to her. I saw her today, and I see her again on Wendesday.

We had a discussion on Friday about if I ever feel like the trauma symptoms are too much and if I'm feeling unsafe, that instead of going to a psychiatric hospital, she would want to send me to a treatment center that's for trauma related issues. That's a really scary thought. Sometimes I think I need to do that. But I don't want to leave my therapist. She is the only person I can talk to about EVERYTHING. She's the only one I trust.

 I just don't know how much longer I can hang in.

discouraged and frustrated

I'm so frustrated with myself these days. I beat myself up daily for not being able to handle things better than I think I should be. Every one tells me that the healing process and recovery process is such a journey and that it will get easier and hurt less. But I'm just exhausted with the process and really discouraged. I mean, I know I have made progress since I began seeing my new therapist over the summer. I made progress that I didn't even know that I needed to make. But it's so difficult and I'm so tired.

I think the trauma work has to be the hardest. There are times when I feel so much better after venting about it or writing about it. And then there are other times, like today, when I feel so incredibly stupid for being so upset over it and not being able to be stronger about it. I got so depressed after therapy this morning. I wanted to cry so much. I kept saying to myself, "I hate this, I hate this."  I had one of those moments where I told myself that I didn't want to do this anymore, that I was done. I thought about the psychiatric hospital and as awful as a place that is, today it felt like it would be a safe place for me. To just take a break from work and family and drama. That's not reality though. I need to learn how to deal with what's going on in my life.

I know I am way too hard on myself. People have been telling me this for years. It's just confusing how some times I can be so forgiving of myself and what I'm going through, and other times I feel stupid, dumb, weak, annoying, and worthless. And I care SO much about what other people think about me and how I go through life. I want it to be the "right way", if there is such a thing. Ugh.

I am struggling a little bit with restricting. I feel like I'm in this almost constant state of anxiety or being overwhelmed, or not being able to focus on taking care of myself. And it's so easy to just forget to eat or skip a meal. I hate doing it. I'm mad that my eating disorder is making me feel stuck.

Depression is wrapping me up and consuming me as the days go by. Each day I feel a little less motivated. Simple tasks such as laundry, grocery shopping, going to the bank, taking out the trash, showering, and doing my make up are starting to become very hard tasks.

I'm so tired all the time. Really. All the time. I could fall asleep anytime, anywhere. It's 7:30pm here and I could seriously fall asleep in seconds.

I have to make it through this Winter. Somehow, it needs to be done.

it gets worse before it gets better.

The title of this post is so true when it comes to healing from trauma. I've been working really hard with my therapist since the end of the summer. It's been so hard, and so painful. But I am making progress. But it's still hard. Today was one of the most intense and overwhelming therapy sessions I've ever had. I had a full on breakdown/flashback/dissociative episode. My therapist responded in the most perfect way and I was so glad she was there for me. I was SO out of it after therapy. I felt like I had just run a marathon. My therapist walked me out and down the hall to the elevator, but she must have sensed that I was still really out of it. She rode down the elevator with me. I don't know how, but I drove myself home. I was so dizzy and everything was fuzzy and I think I was still disconnected. I got home and had a little over an hour before I needed to be at work. I literally walked up the stairs to my room, took off my shoes, and crawled under my bed covers and set my alarm for when I needed to wake up to go to work. I instantly fell asleep. Once I woke up I felt better. It was just really intense and I've kind of felt down in the dumps all day and not motivated at all. I'm now at home and in my bed with a heating pad on my chest. I feel anxious that that intense feeling and experience will happen again , but this time alone. I just need to distract, distract, distract.

I've decided that I want to go back to school. Although, I have NO idea how I am going to pay for that. I want to get my associate's degree in early childhood education, and eventually teach pre-school. I think that would be a perfect job for me. I could technically get my degree by taking online classes through the local community college. But I do need to do more research. Figure out what preschools require you to have a degree or not, or if I need any type of certification. And of course, if I need to go back to school, figure out how to pay for it. I'm tired of the jobs I have now. They aren't challenging and I'm really unhappy at them.

Friday I am going to my regular doctor to get checked out. I have been having some really distressing symptoms for the past couple of months. I am nauseous every day, bloated to the point where I look pregnant, I have night sweats and hot flashes, insomnia, irregular periods, episodes of vertigo, etc. I saw my dietitian on Monday night and she weighed me on her super duper scale and I had a really high level of fluid in me, and I had gained weight. I told her about my symptoms and she is convinced I have some sort of hormonal imbalance. It's also been suggested that I have some sort of thyroid issue. Anyway, I'm just really anxious to get some answer about what's going on with me. Because I'm miserable.

Not much else is going on. I'm still motivated for recovery, but otherwise I'm really unhappy. 

Defeated

I had the following conversation in my head tonight. Well, it's not really a conversation, as it was completely one sided. I guess this is just the way I'm feeling these days.

I'm so tired. I'm so miserable. I'm so unhappy. My life is so messed up. I am miserable at my jobs, just so depressed. While I am eating like a semi-normal person and I don't have eating disordered thoughts, I stress out about money every day. It takes too much energy sometimes for me to clean my room, take a shower, or do laundry. Waking up in the morning I immediately look forward to getting off work so I can get back into m bed. My family drives me absolutely insane. And I'm still the person I've always been to them. Different, annoying, weird, exhausting. I have no local friends. I never go out. I go to work, and come home. That's it. I don't have enough money to spend on myself. I don't even having enough money to buy my friends and family Christmas presents. I hate the cold weather more than anything and the upcoming holidays aren't doing a damn thing to help my depression. I'm as lonely as I've ever been, I think. I wish my best friends Ashley and Michelle lived closer to me. I'm doing the hardest, most draining and exhausting work of my life in therapy processing my trauma. I'm so pissed off because I never wanted those things to happen to me. I never asked to be sexually assaulted. I didn't choose those things. I NEVER really had a chance in this world, not for a happy life. I've never been happy. It's always been taken away or damaged.
I WANT to live. I want to have that chance. I want to be happy. I feel like somewhere deep inside me, I believe that I am somehow supposed to be, and that I'm not supposed to be this dried up, pathetic, 24 year old nothing, who has never accomplished anything in her life. I really want to live. If I took my own life, I KNOW people would be sad and miss me, especially certain ones I think about quite often. I would never, ever want to hurt them or disappoint them. And, I would never want to leave them. My treatment team, my two best friends, my second mom, the family I babysit for, Sophie, Grady, and my roommate. I never, ever want to hurt them. It breaks my heart to think of them being so sad. So I really do want to live, but I CANNOT see myself as happy, at peace, or full of life. I am exhausted of the same old shit in my life that goes as far back as I can remember. I've always felt differently, acted differently, suffered differently.
I cannot believe that there is better for me out there, that it's going to happen for me.
I am not suicidal, even though this post may suggest otherwise. I am just hopeless. I'm exhausted.

I have therapy in the morning. I am going to say all of this. I don't want to end back up in the hospital and I don't want to be suicidal. I need to know how to be more than all of this.

Hurting So Much

I am hurting so much these days. I feel so, so much sadness, grief, pain, fear, etc about my traumas. It literally makes me heart ache. I feel it in my chest and in my stomach. Sometimes I just want to scream. I love to write, it's one of my favorite coping skills. But lately that's been too hard because it makes me think about the pain. And I just want it to go away. It feels like it will never stop coming.

Flashbacks are becoming more frequent lately. I'm not sure why, maybe because Winter is when some of the trauma happened. I feel triggered by the smallest things, and it sends me into panic mode. I have had nightmares two nights in a row and it's left me almost non-functional.

I asked my therapist if we could increase our sessions to twice a week, and she is on board with that. So that helped me feel some relief. But it still hurts so much. I never knew it was possible to feel so much pain.

I'm so scared of everything. I wish I could build a bubble around myself and not be in touch with reality.

I cried a little bit about my trauma last night. But not much, because it felt scary and I was alone and I don't want to be alone with those emotions. Night time is the hardest and I have trouble relaxing.

I know I'm not alone, but I'm lonely. I just want someone to wrap me up in their arms and hold me tight until the pain goes away.

If I just...breathe

I feel like I've packed a week into the past 3 days. I've had so many appointments, work obligations, and errands to run. For the most part my appointments have gone really well. My doctor appointment on Monday that my therapist came with me too was really difficult, but it went well at the same time. I'm just glad it's over and hopefully I won't have to go back for another year (crosses fingers). It was just really scary and made everything that's happened to me a bigger reality than it already is. I honestly could not have gotten through that appointment without having my therapist there. She helped slow down my breathing before, during, and after the exam. She told me proud she was of me, and how much she felt honored that I asked her to come with me.

I saw my dietitian Monday night for the first time in a few weeks. It went really, really well. My dietitian was just so happy with how I've been doing and so excited. Even though I see her again in two weeks, I think I will be able to cut back to possible every 3 weeks. I know I'm still kind of fragile with recovery, and no, not everything is all better. But, I feel like I know what I need to do now and feel like I'm making healthy choices and following my hunger cues (which is HUGE for me!)
Before I committed to recovery this time around, every time I read someone's blog or Facebook status or a book about how great recovery felt to them and how much better life was, I rolled my eyes. Everyone just said the same thing about it. And I was so terrified of recovery. And honestly, I now understand what they were saying about recovery. And, it's going to continue to get better for me, which fills me with so much hope. People who didn't understand eating disorders always used to say to me, "You have to choose to live!" And I feel like I was making that choice, but I didn't know if I could actually do it. Recovery from an eating disorder is so much more than, breakfast, lunch and dinner and a snack, oh and weight gain supplements if you need them and healthy exercise. I mean, there are layers and layers to all of those things that no one could possibly understand if you didn't have an eating disorder.
I don't think I made the choice this time around to finally give recovery my all. I think it just naturally came when I started to be completely open in therapy. I think all the bottled up emotions and memories were released and I didn't have to pretend anymore. I didn't have to hide. But I do make the choice day in and day out to eat, even when I'm anxious or nauseous or upset about something. And I'm not perfect about it. I do have my slips still. But I cannot even begin to explain the huge weight I have felt lifted off of my shoulders.

I saw my therapist this morning. It was a tough appointment. We talked a lot about family dynamics, which is honestly my least favorite topic of all time. Anyway, I don't feel comfortable explaining all of it in my blog because I don't want to bash my family on the internet, but my therapist told me to read "The Dance of Anger".  I've already bought it and started reading it.

I'm excited for Thanksgiving tomorrow, mainly just the food part. Not too excited about spending time with family, but it is what it is.

I also saw my psychiatrist today. And I told him that I know this Winter is going to be really tough on me because of the weather, depression, and anniversaries. I said I just want to make it through this season without be hospitalized. He said that was a good goal. I really hope I can do it.

Just gotta survive until March, and then I can breathe again.

Super Anxious

I have to write a blog about what's going on tomorrow, among other things. I am super anxious and flipping out about it. I should probably just go to bed, since I have to be up at 8am anyway.

So, tomorrow I have my annual gynecologist appointment. Shouldn't be such a big deal, but since I have a history of trauma, it's kind of really scary. My therapist is coming with me. Yeah, that might sound awkward, and it kind of feels that way. But in all honesty, I am so glad she will be there to help me through it, lead me through visualizations and deep breathing.
I guess what I'm scared of the most is some of the questions I have to ask my doctor. I feel stupid for needing/wanting to ask them, but at the same time...it's better to be safe than sorry, right?

I graduated from my eating disorders support group on Friday night. It was, surreal. I'm glad that my ED is no longer a huge weight on my shoulders, as I am already going through so much already. Each member of the group gave me affirmations and it was really cool to hear what they think of me. It made me feel pretty special. No, I am not recovered. I'm not sure what that word means or looks like. I do know that I have other things to work on with my ED recovery. Eating breakfast, no more restricting, eating through the anxiety, and a couple of other things. But it doesn't feel like this terrible disease inside me anymore. It's manageable . I see my dietitian tomorrow. I'm a little anxious as to how that will go. Sometimes I think I am doing great with food, and then she asks what I've been eating and she tells me how it's not enough. I have been really anxious lately, so eating has been difficult, but not impossible.

Depression continues to be a struggle. Of course, some days are better than others. Sometimes I question how I make it through day to day. I guess I just survive, that's all I can do.

I'm feeling, very very lonely. I don't think I've gone out with a friend in a couple of months. It just makes me sad. I think I'm too depressed to try and go out and do things, unless I HAVE to do them. Please oh please, I hope I make it through this Winter without being hospitalized.

Bah humbug.

Darkness

I hate this time of year. Starting a couple weeks ago until warmer weather gets here, I absolutely loathe this time of year.

I've always struggled with depression, but Winter time is a scary time for me. I'm already feeling really scared about it. It seems like no matter how good things are, I am always depressed. Like right now, I'm doing really, really well with ED recovery, and while my jobs are stressful...at least I have a job. But lately, I've been thinking about dying a lot. I wouldn't call myself suicidal, as I have no plans to kill myself. But, I guess I'm such deep emotional pain these days that dying would feel like a relief. I told my therapist all of this today, which was really hard because I don't want to scare her or worry her. She gave me a few reminders as to why I CAN'T hurt myself. She said it would hurt the kids I babysit, and it would hurt her too if I did anything to myself.

I just get so paralyzed by my depression sometimes, and it totally sucks. It's the heaviest feeling on my chest and I feel so incompetent of handling real life. I just way to lay in my bed for days. I don't really know if this depression is something that can be fixed or made better with medication. I'm on a pretty high dosage right now, and I guess I could go higher, but that also makes me uncomfortable because I also don't want to be totally numb.

I'm not nervous for Thanksgiving, not about the food part. I have really no worries about it. I'm just not a huge fan of spending extended time with family. But, I'll deal with it.

PTSD sucks and it has really been tough lately. I learned a valuable lesson this weekend. Alcohol and PTSD are not a good combination. Needless to say, I won't be drinking again for a while. I just feel so on edge about sudden noises and movements these days. I felt so stupid because tonight in the grocery store there was a big bang behind me from something falling and I jumped probably a foot in the air. I nearly had a heart attack. I get so frustrated with things like that.

I'm just not in a good place tonight. I feel very sad and very depressed. And very lonely.

This Is What Healing Feels Like

I am in recovery from two things these days; my eating disorder, and my childhood and adult trauma.

The eating disorder recovery has been SUCH a roller coaster. I mean, I've never been able to go a full year in recovery without relapsing in all my 10 years of my ED. And this past summer, I pretty much reached a full blown relapse. I always thought the cause of my eating disorder was my anxiety, my depression, and other insecurities. What I didn't really realize until a month or so ago, is that it was what CAUSED the anxiety, depression, and insecurities that lead to my eating disorder.





What caused the eating disorder was the multiple traumas I have endured throughout my life. My version of coping with my traumas was restricting, binging, binging AND purging, counting calories, obsessing over my appearance and weight, self-mutilation, threatening suicide, and repressing memories.

The past couple of months I have began to fully deal with my trauma with a new therapist. I have been doing such hard work. It's been exhausting, draining, and terrifying. But it's also been immensely healing. For so many years, I used self-destructive behaviors to avoid feeling my feelings. But since a couple months ago when my therapist gave me permission to allow myself to feel sad, hurt, scared, and angry, I have been improving with my recovery from my eating disorder.

I no longer weigh myself. In fact, I am content with my weight, and it's healthy and natural. I don't count calories. I don't obsess in the mirror. I haven't self-harmed in a couple months. I haven't purged since July. I don't really ever think about purging. I don't worry about what I eat. I eat what tastes good, and am learning to trust my hunger cues.

It's weird to say this but...I can see the light at the end of the tunnel with my eating disorder. Weird, but good!

Now I feel like I'm fighting this battle (and winning) with trauma related issues. It's probably the hardest and scariest thing I've ever done. To be raw and vulnerable with my therapist. To work through memories, feelings, flashbacks, and nightmares. I'm having a hard time allowing myself to release the pain. Writing is helping though, and being in therapy. But I've rarely let myself cry. I have SO many new coping skills now that are actually very helpful. And sometimes, nights can be so scary and hard that I put in a phone call to my therapist on her cell phone, like I did tonight. I sobbed my heart out to my therapist over the phone. She knew exactly how to help me though. She talked me through it, let me know it was just a memory, just a wave that's going to eventually pass. She got me breathing again, did some guided imagery with me, calmed me down and eventually the wave passed.

I'm healing my mind, soul, and body these days.

Frustrated

I'm having a difficult time lately. I'm having some physical issues going on. I think I'm having some sort of hormonal imbalance or some sort of menstrual disorder. I'm just experiencing really weird symptoms such as, irregular period, bloating, mood swings, hot flashes, nausea, etc. I see my gynecologist in two weeks anyway because I have a check up (which I am FREAKING out about) so if I'm still having issues I will ask her about it.

I'm also having a lot of nausea. Usually when I'm nauseous it's because I'm anxious. But, I really don't feel anxious. The nausea is preventing me from eating, which is so frustrating because I WANT to eat. I don't really have eating disordered thoughts at all. Which, is kind of strange but nice. I emailed my dietitian about it a couple days ago, because I was worried about my well-being before I see her tomorrow. And she has had me write down my food and write down whenever I get nauseous. I'm sure she might be thinking I have a food allergy, which I guess would be an easy fix. I'm actually scared there is something wrong with my stomach. I have most likely permanently damaged my stomach from my eating disorder. I already have IBS, and acid-reflux, but I just worry it's something else too. Because I've never been this nauseous, for this long.

I'm also frustrated with my sleeping habits. I'm a chronic insomniac, have been practically my whole life. I tend to stay up so late, losing track of time and end up falling asleep at 3am. It's so hard to get out of bed in the morning, and then I sleep alllll weekend. I know this is probably depression. But, it's still frustrating.

I'm dealing with a lot of trauma crap right now, but I don't feel like writing about it tonight. I have a headache, and I'm exhausted.

I can't wait for therapy on Thursday.

Grieving

I had a really good, really intense, really thought provoking conversation with a new friend today. While I posted in my blog about a month ago how I didn't want to write about my trauma...I think I need to. Not in detail, not the specific memories or abusers, but my feelings. After all, that's what I'm kind of trying to process these days...the feelings, and the grief.

I'm letting a few tears out while I write this. It scares me to let it all out, especially sitting here alone on my bed. I know it would be better to let it all out, but I just don't want to hurt anymore. I've never been in so much emotional pain and distress in my life. During all of the abuse I endured, I dissociated, made myself go numb, and even in some instances blocked out the whole experience. And now I'm thawing. I know I have to feel it, to get through it. It just feels like it won't ever stop. People tell me, "You are going to be okay."
It's just hard to believe that when there is so much pain.

I often times curl up into a ball on my bed and wrap a blanket around myself, put on a song I listened to with my therapist once that now reminds me of her presence, and pretend someone is holding me, and that it's okay to hurt.

The pain can be paralyzing, the grief overwhelming, and the loneliness unbearable. Sometimes I just have to make myself sit with the grief and let it wash over me. Sometimes I let myself cry, even though I really don't know why I'm crying, just that there's an ache inside me to feel safe.

I used to let the eating disorder consume my mind, whether I was struggling or doing well. It was such a easy thing to let my mind wander to. These days my thoughts, feelings, and dreams consist of trauma. It's not a bad thing. It's not...hurting me or destroying me. It's just...so much.

My eyes are getting sleepy now. There's really no reason why I should be tired, since I slept most of the day. But I think my brain is tired.

Grieving is exhausting.

What's really amazing

Does anyone even read my shitty writing anymore? I'll keep blogging no matter what, I think. It helps.

I hope I don't jinx myself by writing this post.

What's really amazing is...feeling hopeful. Today I felt hopeful, like really hopeful, for the first time in months. I felt like, "oh my gosh, even though I don't see the end in sight, I totally feel like I will be okay in time". It was pretty powerful and emotional. And today for the first time in...gosh, probably years, I had energy. I wasn't tired. It's crazy!!! I had a really amazing therapy session this morning. And let me just say, my therapist is fucking awesome, and I totally wish she could move in with me. I left therapy feeling hopeful and energized and lighter. I told her about how at the doctor's last week, I saw my weight for the first time in a few months. And that I felt content with the number I saw, which was a healthy number. She got so excited and lit a candle for me to celebrate that huge milestone. I was talking to her about my appearance pre-Remuda 2011 and how I didn't realize how sick I had gotten, and that looking back now I can see how frail and close to dying I was. She said, "I can't even imagine what you looked like. It makes my heart hurt just thinking about it. But look at you now...You are beautiful." I smile just typing that out.

After therapy, it was off to work until 6:30pm. Work flew by without any major stress. I ended up dyeing my hair dark brown/almost black. I really love it, even though people tell me they can't notice a difference (which is kind of an insult to me). I wanted to change my hair color because I feel like my heart and my soul is going through a change also these days. I tend to be very symbolic.

I got home a couple hours ago, and felt tired and anxious for my drive up to Charlottesville for the NEDA walk tomorrow morning. I opened up an email from my therapist, in which she had written a reply to an email I had written her earlier today about how glad I was that I came to my appointment today. She responded with, "I'm glad too. You did a great job. You are working so hard and I'm glad you can feel the progress."
I guess I started to get a little bit sad because, well I'm still not really sure why. But I guess I felt a little bit guilty for having such a good day, when I have been so entrenched in my trauma lately. And so then I just got really overwhelmed and alone and I felt like I could cry my brains out and probably should, but there is something going on subconsciously with me, that I won't let myself cry. It totally sucks. Luckily I had a friend talk me through it.

Anyway, I'm just...really proud of myself for working so hard. It's not that I HAVEN'T worked hard all of these years, but I've just been extra brave and extra hardworking with the help of my amazing therapist. 

depleted

I feel like all life and positive energy has been drained from me. I really don't know how I have made it through this week without melting down...oh wait...I had a major meltdown on Wednesday that required an emergency phone call to my psychiatrist and my therapist and I had to leave work early. So, no...I'm really not handling things well.

I'm depressed. Not in a scary way, but it could definitely be headed in that direction. I get home from work at the end of the day and barely have enough energy to wash my face. I lay on my bed and can barely move my limbs because every part of me is physically and emotionally exhausted. I haven't been very mindful of my eating, actually I haven't been very mindful in any way.

I see my primary care doctor tomorrow morning. I haven't seen her since March. Since my last visit with her, I have relapsed with my ED, spent 6 days in a psychiatric hospital for being suicidal, almost went back to treatment, injured my shoulder (which probably wouldn't have happened if I had been eating), spent a night in the ER due to dehydration and electrolyte imbalance, and now I'm in a state of constant stress and depression. My doctor is very caring and supportive, but needless to say, tomorrow's appointment should be interesting.
I will insist that the nurse does not tell me my weight (although she will probably forget and put it on my checkout sheet). Whatever.

So, I'm not doing so well. I'm not sure how to really turn it around. I feel like my job is a big part of the problem. I have been reaching out for support from my treatment team though, which I am proud of myself for. I'm desperate to talk to my therapist and can't wait until our session on Tuesday. She's on vacation right now, so there's no way to talk to her.

I'm just really exhausted. 

all over the place

I'm not anxious. I'm stressed. There is a difference, at least for me there is.

My job is completely stressing me out to the point of tears and complete exhaustion. It is draining me. I have no idea what to do. I don't want to quit. I don't want to say much more about it because I don't want my employer to somehow find this blog post.

I've been so stressed that I have been clenching my jaw, and grinding my teeth. My teeth and jaw ache so much. It's really painful and makes me more stressed out.

I literally slept all weekend. I'm pretty sure I was depressed, mostly from my job and just wanting to avoid trauma stuff.

I'm sick of...eating disorders. Besides my treatment team, and the close friends that I have who struggle...I want nothing to do with eating disorders. I am going to the NEDA Walk in Charlottesville next weekend because one of my best friends Michelle is going to be there. But I can't stand freaking ED's. When leaving my dietitian's office tonight, there was a super, super skinny and emaciated girl in the waiting room and yes, I did compare myself. I still struggle with that a lot. Even though I know that girl is probably miserable and drained of life. I just hate it. I hate eating disorders. They are competitive and annoying and selfish and stupid.
I want to eat normally (like I've been starting to do) and not feel guilty and like a failure for doing so, even though it excites my dietitian soooo much that I ate a cheeseburger and french fries last week.  Which I'm pretty proud of too.

I don't want to sleep away my weekends because I have NOTHING else to look forward to. I don't have any money to spend on myself (it all goes to bills and rent). I don't have any friends here. I don't have a boyfriend. I look forward to sleeping away my weekends. And I know that's not normal or healthy.

Can I just wake up tomorrow and be like everyone else who DOESN'T have an eating disorder? I can deal with all the other stuff, just not the stupid ED.

Progress is progress, no matter how small

I've been reluctant to regularly update my blog. In all truthfulness, I am processing all of my past trauma in therapy right now (and have been since August) and it has been so difficult. I don't want to share these experiences and how I'm dealing with them on the internet. It's too personal and private. But when close friends ask me how I'm doing, and I say I'm having a hard time, it's because I'm struggling with trauma related issues.

But I do want to continue to write on my blog, and I believe I can do that without talking about my therapy sessions in detail. I will say that, as difficult as processing trauma has been, it's what I have needed to do for a long, long time. I work with an amazing therapist who is making this process safe and I am able to trust her.

Now, onto my progress. I honestly have hated that word for so long. Mainly because I feel like I hardly ever make progress, and that when I do, I tend to self-destruct. However, lately I have been making progress in areas that I didn't even know about until my therapist pointed them out. I've always struggled with feeling guilty for reaching out for help, and feeling so needy. And I apologize excessively for it. My therapist today told me that I have not bothered her, and there is no need to apologize. In fact, she said she thinks it shows great strength and progress that I am able to reach out to her when I feel like I need to, while being able to handle some things without her help. She told me to honor myself for making such progress. I was taken back by that, but in the end it made me smile.

On the eating disorder front, I am also making progress. I have not purged since July, and I really haven't had any urges. Like I said in a former blog post, my ER trip last month made me realize how much my body is suffering when I use ED behaviors. Lately, if I restrict for one day, I have a terrible headache at the end of the day. Restricting is becoming less and less. I enjoy food. I eat pretty much whatever I want, in moderation of course. I don't count calories. I haven't looked at my weight in 3 months. And I actually am beginning to like my body. It's crazy and I never thought I would get to this point. And it's amazing that I can actually get much better.

It's a slippery slope thought, and even though eating is going better, I got scared the other night when my dietitian was praising me for how well I was doing. I thought to myself, "well this won't last. it never does." I got really down on myself. I really want it to last this time. I know that there will of course be ups and downs, but I don't want to fully relapse again.

I am really thankful (and I know I say this a lot) for a really awesome support system and treatment team. My team of my therapist, dietitian and my psychiatrist is the best team I've ever had. Jane, the mom I babysit for, has become a person I can confide in. I have, Debbie, my second mom. And while I don't have really any friends in my town that I can be myself around, I have a handful of really amazing friends scattered here and there that get me and know me and love me.

So, like the title of this post says...Progress is progress, no matter how small.

I can't keep doing this to myself

Before I entered treatment in February 2011, I was really good at covering up my eating disorder. I managed to starve myself, and binge/purge, without any major medical complications, and I somehow kept my weight loss a secret, because no one ever commented on it. Sure, I had the dizziness, the shakiness, dry skin, lack of energy....all of those normal things people get when they don't nourish themselves.
A week before I entered treatment in 2011, I had heart palpitations after a binge/purge episode and truly thought I would die. So I stayed up all night, in fear that I would die in my sleep. When I got to treatment, I didn't think I needed to gain weight or that anything was wrong with my vitals. I was underweight, had low blood pressure, low pulse, low body temperature, and many other medical complications. Eventually, all of that was resolved once I reached a healthier body weight.  I wasn't really invincible as I thought I was.

This past spring, after almost a full year in recovery,  I relapsed. Over the summer, I admitted myself to the psychiatric hospital because I wanted to die and planned on going through with it. While I was there, my treatment team and parents back home, told me I needed to go back to treatment. There was a place a few hours away from my house where it was suggested I go. In the end, I didn't end up going. I believed I could get back on track while doing outpatient therapy, and I certainly wasn't "sick enough" to go. Or so I thought.

I did not get back on track, in fact, things got worse. In September I went to the ER because I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink in 3 days and I was very dehydrated. My dietitian told me I was at risk for a heart attack, and that was a huge wake-up call to me. The next few weeks I improved my eating a lot, and felt back on track.

Now I'm back to where I was in September. I'm dealing with a lot of painful, painful things in therapy. It's making my anxiety crazy, and I'm nauseous all the time. I have been restricting again.
What blows my mind (although it really shouldn't) is that after using eating disorder behaviors for 10 years, it's finally catching up to me. And I am most certainly not invincible. I'm older, and I'm sure I have caused permanent damage to my body.

I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't survive any more relapses. At this point, I don't even consciously use my eating disorder. It's a habit, it's cemented into my brain. I don't want to do it. And that's what makes this so frustrating.  10 years of eating disorder behaviors is way too long. It's pretty crazy that I'm still alive.

I know how to eat, to follow a plan, to lower my anxiety, etc, etc. I just have to do it. I wish it was easy as that.

Pain

I found this quote recently. This is what I'm dealing with.

"Some of us have a hard time believing that we are actually able to face our own pain. We have convinced ourselves that our pain is too deep, too frightening, something to avoid at all costs. Yet if we finally allow ourselves to feel the depth of that sadness and gently let it break our hearts, we may come to feel a great freedom, a genuine sense of release and peace, because we have finally stopped running away from ourselves and from the pain that lives within us."

Back Again

I'm really depressed again. Maybe it's because I'm actually eating and not hiding behind my feelings. But I almost feel suicidal. It's scary. I see my therapist tomorrow morning. I am going to tell her everything.
I don't want to get to the point where I have to go back to the hospital.

Trauma stuff is...so hard.

I cried for 10 straight minutes today in between jobs. I couldn't get myself to stop. It hurt so bad. My heart hurt so bad. There was so much pain and it was exhausting. I'm really tired of this life I'm living. I'm just really not patient enough to ride the waves of recovery. I wish I could find the words to describe how deep my pain and exhaustion is. It's just a really, really heavy feeling, and like my heart is being squeezed.

I'm so tired of it.

ER and other shenanigans

Exactly a week ago today, my friend Sarah was driving me to the emergency room. I had seen my dietitian 4 hours earlier and she was seriously concerned for my well-being. You see, I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink in 3 days. When she weighed me, her super duper special scale told her that I was severely dehydrated. I insisted I was fine (when I really felt like I was dying). She wanted to drive me home because she didn't think it was safe to drive myself, but again, I said I was okay. Around 10:30pm I was walking from my bathroom to my bedroom and all of a sudden everything got white and my head felt like it was spinning, I felt nauseous and on fire. I made myself sit down. After a few minutes, I felt strong enough to walk to my bed and sit down on it. I texted my friend Sarah, and in my gut I knew I needed to go to the ER. So I got there and they did vitals, EKG, took several vials of blood, and put in an IV needle. I didn't get a room until 1:30am. The doctor came in and I explained how this happened and that I had an eating disorder and blah blah blah. He wasn't very understanding or supportive, but whatever. I didn't really expect anything different.
He said my lab work came back and I had low potassium. I got pumped full of fluids to re-hydrate me and get my potassium level back up to normal.  I had a TERRIBLE headache that was on day 5. I got a Percocet for that, as well as Zofran for my nausea. After the fluids were pumped into my body, I was allowed to go home. I was pretty loopy from the painkiller, and exhausted. I got home at 4:30am. I went straight to bed. This was on a Friday night/Saturday morning and I didn't feel back to normal until Monday night.
Since then, I have been eating much better and staying hydrated. I guess it was kind of a wake-up call. It scared me a lot. I still have the desire to restrict, but for the most part...I'm not. My parents were really mad at me when I told them what happened. My mom accused me of being needy, attention-seeking, and that I wanted people to baby me. This is why I never tell my mom anything.
I saw my dietitian tonight and she was so glad I went to the ER. She told me I had scared her so much. When I told her I had low potassium that night, her eyes got real big and she said, "you can have a heart attack from that, you do know that right?" I did know that, but don't think it would ever happen to me.
My therapist, who is amazing by the way, has been very supportive. I have been doing a lot of trauma work lately, and I think the anxiety from talking about it led to my behaviors last week that landed me in the ER. She is aware of this, and wants to be very careful and slow from now on when talking about trauma. She recognizes how much emotional pain I am in and just wants to take things session by session. I am perfectly okay with this, as I was so overwhelmed with everything last week.

I've started physical therapy for my shoulder and it sucks. It's hard and painful and it makes me sore and tired. My physical therapist says I have a lot of work to do with it, that it will never regain full strength. Super.

I am going to spend a weekend in October with my best friend Ashley, and we are going to do a NEDA Walk in Baltimore! I can barely contain my excitement. She is my other half and a part of my soul and I cannot wait to see her!

Not much else going on. Just the usual day to day things. My life is pretty boring.

It's strange...

It's strange how 6+ months ago I thought I was moving beyond my trauma, even though I knew I was keeping a secret about it. Now, here I am going through it again. It's painful, scary, and overwhelming. Luckily, I have a wonderful therapist who is helping me through it. As well as a very understanding and supportive boss. Secrets keep you sick, and I was keeping a deep, dark secret. I think I'm on my way to healing, but right now it feels like my brain is exploding and my body is falling apart and everything causes panic. It's just not fair.

The eating disorder continues to be a monster in my life. Some days it goes away and I eat without thought and worry. Other days, the thought of food makes me sick and I choose not to eat. It's not about feeling fat, or being scared of gaining weight. It never was. It's the anxiety. The anxiety that is always there. I just want to be free of it, of all that holds me down.

I feel like I have to apologize for my disorders, for my issues, and for needing help. I feel stupid, unworthy, and undeserving, even though people tell me I am none of those things. My therapist said, "you aren't stupid, you are brave."  And yeah, I am using an insane amount of courage right now to deal with my trauma. But talking about it still makes me feel stupid.

Physically, the anxiety is attacking my body. I tremble and shake all over. I've had a migraine for 5 days. I cannot sleep. I cannot eat. I am having panic attacks. There is a huge amount of anxiety that I think is coming from the huge amount of emotions I am keeping inside. I need a release. I need to cry, scream, jump up and down, or something. I know this gets said a lot, but I literally feel like I could explode any minute.

But, day by day I somehow make it through. That's really the only way. Looking ahead a week or even 2 days will cause me even more anxiety. I am choosing to heal, to be honest, and to be brave. Day by day, I am surviving this.

some things better, some things worse

This will be brief.

Food stuff is getting better. Not sure where my weight is, but probably not where it need to be. I've lost 10lbs since May. My appetite is back, and I have cravings. But my anxiety still prevents me from being able to eat when I want to and when I need to. That sounds like an excuse, which it's not. It's just...pretty bad with the anxiety right now so...eating is difficult. My dietitian isn't too happy about that.
Still haven't purged since I've been out of the hospital, so like...over a month I guess?

Therapy is hard and scary as SHIT. Doing a TON of trauma work. I know it's good for me, but I feel like a little kid again and I'm on edge with just about everything. Triggers all day long, nightmares, flashbacks, etc. I still have had no means of release of the emotions, the sadness and the grief. I am beginning to cry a little, but it's still stuffed way, way down in there. Luckily, my therapist is AH-mazing, and is being really great throughout all of this. She's seriously doing some serious saving right now.

I opened up to the mom I babysit for...about pretty much everything. She's been super supportive and super caring. I still can't believe how much I told her, but she's been awesome about it. She's invited me over for dinner a few days this week and to just hang out so I don't have to be alone with my thoughts. Tomorrow is Caroline's 13th birthday and they celebrated tonight at PF Changs for dinner, and invited me to go with them. It was a lot of fun, and good to be around people who consider me part of their family.

I have been having a ton of sleep issues. I can't fall asleep at night, so I increase my sleep meds, but then I end up oversleeping or falling asleep at work. I don't mean a light nap, I am being completely knocked out. It sucks and I hated being tired all of the time. If I try and cut back on my sleep medication, then I can't fall asleep. It's a no win situation. My psychiatrist is out of town, which blows.

My shoulder is doing better. I don't need surgery. I no longer have to wear a sling. I have to start physical therapy, because I have very little strength and range of motion in my left arm/shoulder now. And I have to take a prescription anti-inflammatory. PT is such a pain in the ass.

That's about it. I'm getting by, but it's on a day to day basis. I can't look forward to a week from now or else I will have a panic attack.

So basically...

There is a lot of shit going on with me right now. I haven't been blogging because honestly it's not something I feel comfortable blogging about. I have had new trauma memories re-surface and all I want to say about that is that I am a huge mess right now and it's freaking me out.
I am deep in my eating disorder, losing weight. I did see my dietitian today and we made a compromise that I drink 5 Ensure plus's a day, and go from there. That's literally a stretch to even do that. Eating has been super super difficult. My dietitian told me that doing 5 ensures a day will actually make me lose weight. I'll believe it when I see it.
I love my new therapist. She's awesome. I have a feeling she is really going to help me get through this trauma stuff and be the therapist that sees me to a recovered life. I ended up "dumping" my old therapist over the phone. It was a little sad and scary, but it went well.
I majorly screwed up my shoulder, still not exactly sure what I did to it. I am getting an MRI and and MR/Arthogram next week (they will stick a big needle into my shoulder and inject dye, woo hoo). And then I won't know the results of that until a week later. It's pretty certain I tore something, it's just about figuring out exactly what I tore. Needless to say, I am in pain pretty much everyday, and I have painkillers that don't knock me the fuck out but allow me to work. I am still in a sling, which is super annoying. Hopefully I will not have to have surgery, which my dietitian says I am not healthy enough to have anyway.
I'm completely obsessed with the Olympics so that has been a good distraction, but sometimes not good enough. Flashbacks, panic attacks, and your basic freakouts happen on a regular basis. It's hard to make it through the night.
My new therapist does not text in between sessions, unlike my previous therapist. This has been hard. But maybe this will be good for me. I will have to learn to depend on myself. Which....is scary. I am able to email her though and that provides me with some relief.
That's about all that's going on. Still working a lot and busy with appointments.  I'm tired.

this and that.

I'm currently at the beach on vacation. It is Heaven here. The weather is perfect and I love the beach so I am feeling super relaxed. We are here (my family and I) until next Sunday. Which means I will be spending my birthday here, which I have NO problem with.

Things are a little complicated down here though. Wednsday, the day before we left for the beach, I was diving off the diving board at the pool with the kids. I was a competitive diver for 13 years so it wasn't like I didn't know what I was doing, but it had been a while since I had seriously dived. I was doing a very simple front dive in the pike position, a dive I have done millions and millions of times. I'm exactly sure what happened, but I lost control and was going faster and higher than I intended. My arms flew backward at an awkward angle and I immidietly felt something hurt in my left shoulder. I got out of the pool and was in pretty bad pain. At first I thought I had dislocated my shoulder, but nothing looked wrong and I didn't know what I had done. My hands and fingers began to go numb and tingly and as the day went on my arm felt numb, heavy, and useless, and my shoulder still hurt. I went to an orthopedic urgent care after work and had x rays done. I did not have a total dislocation of my shoulder, however I did have a partial dislocation (also called a subluxation) meaning my shoulder joint popped out and right back in by itself, and I also have a possible torn labrum. I was given a sling and painkillers. I'm kind of bummed this happened before the beach, but at least it's nothing more serious. My shoulder is still hurting me. When I get back from vacation I have to see a specialist and go from there.

I have news. I have decided to switch therapists. I have already had an intake type appointment with one and have chosen to work with her. I really liked the vibe I got from her and I really think she will be able to help me. My current therapist knows not much about this. She knows I was thinking about switching and was looking into other therapists. But she was on vacation this week and so I wasn't able to see her and tell her what's going on. I have no idea how I'm going to tell her. I don't feel bad, I just want to do it the right way. She helped me for almost 3 years and now it's time to move on. I have an appointment with her the Friday I get back, but I'm not sure I want to keep it. I was thinking of emailing her and telling her I no longer need her. Would that be rude? I need opinions here.

I saw my dietitian 4 times in 1 week. I have been struggling majorly with restricting and my weight shows it. It's a very slow weight loss, but still worrysome. I am hoping that while I am at the beach I will be more relaxed and eating will come easier. So far, that's not really how it's going. I mean eating is better, but not ideal to my dietitian. I have major, major anxiety surrounding anything to do with food. It's incredibly frustrating.

My intake appointment with the new therapist brought up some old (but also new) emotions and thoughts. She asked about things that I haven't really in depth talked about in a while, or at all. I have been a little depressed from it, and I'm eager to continue to talk about it with her. I need to get out my journal and write it down.

It's stressful at times being down here with my family 24/7. My dad annoys the hell out of me. I can't seem to get away from it. It's so frustrating. UGH.

Anyway, that's it with me. For now.

Hospital

On Friday I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital. I was there for 6 days. The story of why I went and how I got there isn't that important, just that I knew I couldn't stay safe any longer and that if I didn't go in, then I would definitely take my own life. I chose a hospital two hours away from me, because they had an eating disorder unit that I was hopefully planning on moving over to. In the end, my shitty insurance denied coverage for me to go the eating disorder unit. It was one of the most frustrating and disappointing experiences. I needed the help with my ED, but my insurance company disagreed.

When I found out about that, I decided to come home. I was no longer suicidal or severely depressed. My medications had been stabilized. I came home and while I still have my job (thank God), I am taking this week off because my boss wants me to get myself situated back home and then return to work on Monday. My therapist wants me to go to a treatment center for my ED. But I declined. I have my job, my vacation, and rent to pay. And if I can get myself together while staying at home, then I won't need to go to treatment. I have two treatment centers in mind, in case things don't go as I hope.

So now I am doing a form of intensive outpatient therapy with my team. I will be seeing my dietitian and my therapist twice a week. I'm not sure if I have a time limit as to when I have to be improving by, or whatever. I saw my therapist yesterday and it was an okay session, although I have some doubts about her and I'm not sure who to talk to about that. I see my dietitian tonight, and I am beyond excited because it has been too long since I've last seen her and I miss her bunches. But I'm also nervous for that appointment because I'm sure she will be giving me a meal plan and other instructions, and I have lost weight so I'm worried about the possibility of weight gain drinks.

My parents are pretty much monitoring everything I do, even though I don't live with them. They supply my meals and make me stay at their house during the day. It's hard to get away from behaviors unless my mom has a really busy day at work like she had yesterday and today.

I guess...it is what it is. And I've realized that it's up to me, and only me, to decide to start improving and eating the way I should. No one can make me. Sure, I have tons of support. But no one can do it for me. I have to decide for myself. Which is honestly, terrifying. I have been reminded that I had a good full year of recovery, so that means I can get back to that. I don't know what went wrong or why, but maybe that doesn't matter now. Maybe I just have to get myself together and do what is right.

Anyway, I will try and keep this blog updated. Hope all is well with everyone.

Relapse

Yep. I just used that word, relapsed. I'm pretty sure that's accurate. Over the past year I have had slip ups and lapses, but always held onto hope and knew I could pull myself out of it. Right now I have little to no hope, and I don't see myself ever recovering. Deep down I REALLY want to recover, but I don't believe that I can. It's super frustrating and a hopeless feeling.

I saw my dietitian last night. I lost more weight. She seemed concerned and worried about my health. I felt so bad because she is so nice to me and loves me so much and tries to help me with all her might. But what she was asking me to do last night, to increase my meal plan, was something I felt like I was not willing to do. I hated telling her that, but it was the truth, and I always stay honest. I have been heavily restricting. My biggest fear is that I will lose my job and I will have to move back home. That's a very real possibility, as I lost a job 3 years ago due to my ED. If that happened I would be absolutely devastated. My dietitian is out of town for the next 3 weeks, which scares the crap out of me. So I will only have my therapist to lean on, as well as friends and my second mom. Because I couldn't really commit to a meal plan, my dietitian incorporated Boost supplements into my days. I have to have at least 2, and then we will go from there. I am so hesitant to drink them, because they remind me SO much of treatment and have so many bad memories attached the them, but I don't feel like I can eat solid food right now. My dietitian also suggested I find someone in my life that can keep me accountable with that, and who can eat dinner with me 1-2 times a week. My second mom will be that person. I already called her and asked her and she said yes. I feel so much guilt over it.

Therapy this morning was terrible. I left feeling so much worse. I don't feel like I accomplished anything, which is mostly my fault because I can't seem to do what my therapist is asking of me. She has all these workbooks and yoga exercises and positive affirmations and crap she wants me to do. But I just don't want to, or rather, I feel like I can't. I feel stuck in this nothingness and relapse. Therapy feels so pointless right now. I just don't get anything out of it. This happened a few weeks ago and I took a week off but ended going back and feeling better, and now I'm back where I was. I don't know what the hell is wrong.

Two people on my treatment team have suggested that unless I start eating more and stop losing weight, then I need to go back into treatment. This is a NO for me because I have my job and my house and my family to worry about. I can't just drop everything and go back into to treatment. That should be enough to get me motivated to start doing better right? WRONG. I am still using behaviors, knowing it will get me no where. I am already researching treatment centers just in case. But I seriously don't think anything will come of it.

I have the most intense anxiety going on. It feels like someone is clawing at my chest and stomach. It's almost unbearable. I constantly am trembling or tapping my foot because I just want the anxiety OUT of me. I'm trying to adjust my meds but I feel pretty hopeless about that situation too. 

I have no idea what caused this relapse. I guess the only thing I do know is that recovery doesn't seem to be in my plans. I feel like there is too much wrong with me, too many complicated and unresolved issues, too much work to be done. I'm tired of fighting. There isn't much left. Maybe I just need to be at peace that this is what my life is and always will be. Recovery is not simple, and neither is an eating disorder. But I am seriously overwhelmed by everything I feel like I have to work on. The list to me goes on and on and on. . I feel, mentally, pretty similar to where I was before treatment last year. Which is...deep deep down wanting to recover, but feeling so much of..."I can't I can't I can't."  It's one of the worst feelings...ever.

I left therapy feeling suicidal. I was just like...what is the freaking point anymore? I'm so sick of this. Of making progress and then going back to this miserable hell. If I wasn't going horseback riding tomorrow, then I don't think I would feel safe tonight. I constantly have to have something to look forward to, some means of support or fun in the days ahead of me to feel like I have purpose to stay alive.
I refuse to go to the psychiatric hospital and if I can help it, I refuse to go back to treatment.

I think I might email this blog post to my therapist, because it's a pretty accurate description of how I feel.

I have no idea what is is I'm doing. I just feel like giving up, which I have already started doing

Floating Along.

Things aren't any worse. Things aren't any better. I just seem to be floating along. There is very little fight inside of me. I don't feel connected to life, to anything outside of me. Sometimes it feels like I'm in a dream. That things aren't real. It's so strange.

Depression wise, I mean like I said. It's the same. Yes, I am still suicidal. Yes I am still depressed. I'm also now battling severe anxiety. I wake up trembling, and continue to shake all through out the day. Sleeping has been tough. My doctor increased my medication. It doesn't really seem to be helping. I have group tomorrow night and I emailed my group leader over the weekend and told her that I don't feel comfortable sharing with the group everything that's going on with me. I don't want to upset anyone or scare anyone, and I have found that talking about my suicidal thoughts and depression sometimes makes it worse. My group leader wrote back and said she understood and I didn't have to share anything I didn't feel comfortable sharing.

I'm having a ROUGH time with my eating disorder. It's just not good. Absolutely no appetite. I'm very anxious about seeing my dietitian on Wednesday.

I'm going to equine therapy this Saturday. I am SO excited. I can't wait to be reunited with my horse from Remuda Ranch, and some of the staff. I am anxious about getting there. It's about an hour and a half away from me. I hate driving anywhere I've never been to before. I'm going to try and get my mom to take me, just so I have an idea of where to go the next time.

I put together my own "safety plan" for when I have suicidal thoughts or plans. I found this worksheet online and wrote it down in my journal. I'm obviously going to share it with my treatment team. The only blank part on the sheet is when it asks you where is a safe place you can go. I don't really have one.

I have group tomorrow night, dietitian on Wednesday night, and therapy on Thursday morning. I will update over the weekend.

Crash.

Things are not going well, at all. Well, there are a few bright spots, but overall, I'm hanging on by a thread.

I am still suicidal. My psychiatrist brought up the word "hospital" today but I shot that down right away. And he even said he didn't think it would help. So I'm glad that's off the table. He increased my medication and gave me a few names of some other anti-depressants that he's thinking of putting me on. I'm going to research them.

I've had a lot of close calls with the suicide thoughts lately, but so far have managed to keep myself from going through with things. I was telling my dietitian about it last night and I made her cry. I felt so awful about that. She was so sad and so scared. She loves me and cares about me so much and I feel the same about her and it just broke my heart to see her so sad. I never want to be the cause of her pain. Things are going well with food either. I actually lost a considerable amount of weight. It blew my mind when she told me. Because I thought for sure I had gained weight. My dietitian gave me a plan that she really wants me to try. I did pretty good with it today I think.

I am not able to see my therapist this week, unless she has a cancellation. I was called for jury duty on the morning I usually have therapy. I got my psychiatrist to write me a note to get out of it (which I am still debating on using) but my therapist already filled in the spot that I usually see her. At the very least, she said we could have a phone session. I guess that's better than nothing.

I am going to my new church tomorrow night, to hear one of the pastors speak to the young adult group. I am really excited but also really nervous. I hope it will be good, and I hope I will meet people.

I am meeting my second mom for lunch on Saturday. Honestly I am looking forward to this more than anything. She saved my life last week. She kept me from going through with a suicide plan. I sobbed and sobbed in her arms. I wish I lived with her. She's the kind of person that would drop anything to come and make sure I was safe and help me. I've never had anyone like that in my life. I love her so much. I owe her so much. She and my dietitian are the two people in my life that I feel like care about me the most. I know both of them are sad and hurting to see me suffering so much. I don't want them to feel that way. I want to make them proud. I just have to remember that in the moments of complete darkness.

Sleeping through the night and anxiety continue to be a struggle. It's definitely frustrating. What's more frustrating is trying to figure out why I am struggling so much. No one seems to know, not even me. I don't think I fully came out of the darkness of winter time, and when I celebrated my 1 year anniversary in recovery, I acted like I was happy and healthy, but deep down I don't think I really was. I just wanted people to think I was. "God willing, we will get you out of this" is what my psychiatrist said to me tonight. It kind of scared me. I don't know. I know he really cares about me and can help me, but I sensed fear in his voice. I don't blame people for being scared for my physical and mental state these days. Hell, I'm scaring myself. I just have to take it moment to moment. Really, that's all I can do.
My dietitian asked me if I promised I would tell her if I wanted to kill myself. To ease her worry and fear, I said yes. But that's honestly not an honest statement. I just said that to make her feel better. Ugh, I'm so horrible.

Anyway, next week starts a full time schedule with babysitting. 9:30am to 5:30pm every week day with the kids. It's going to be crazy and I'm scared of if it's going to take a toll on me. I will try and update more next week. It's hard to make my thoughts public these days...I hate scaring people.

Can't think of a title

I've been trying to put my eating disorder out of my mind lately. Just not think about it, focus on it, not worry about it, not deal with it. It wasn't the best idea. Because now all of a sudden I have enormous amounts of anxiety at meals. Saturday at lunch with a friend, I nearly had a panic attack when my lunch arrived. I had to force myself to eat. It was so hard and scary, and the food wasn't even a "scary food". After trying to put the anxiety out of my head and not allowing myself to let it out, I went into a state of being numb. It was too much to bear, so I went numb. I'm struggling a lot with restricting, obviously. Going to the grocery store lately has caused a lot of anxiety as well. It's just too complicated, all of this.

My depression is, kind of up and down. I am still having suicidal ideations. It's definitely still scary. I'm working through it though I guess. My therapist gave me a DBT workbook to start working on. We'll see how that goes. I also found out that there is a horse farm an hour away from me that does equine therapy. The horse that I rode at Remuda Ranch is there (Dude), as well as many of the other horses that were at RR when I was. And some of the same staff works there too. My therapist emailed the woman in charge of it, and I am anxiously awaiting a reply. My therapist seems really set on having me do equine therapy, she thinks it could help with a multitude of things I am struggling with. Hopefully this will work out and I will be able to do this! Working with and riding Dude while at Remuda helped me SO much in SO many ways. It would be amazing to be able to work with him again.

I haven't seen my dietitian in 3 weeks, going on 4. We have had scheduling conflicts, on both of our ends. The next time she can see me is next Monday. It's been hard. I definitely need her support right now. Like I said at the beginning of this post, things are so crazy with food right now and I just need her help with getting back on track. Things feel so unstructured and out of control and I just need to have a plan set up with my meals, grocery shopping, etc.

The next two weeks are kind of crazy. I have something to do besides work pretty much every day this week and next week. This Friday I am traveling to Maryland for the weekend with my mom and two sisters for my cousin's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Next Friday is the kids last day of school, and the following week will begin a pretty busy schedule as I will be babysitting all day long instead of just half a day. I'm stressing out about it, worried about how I will be able to fit in all of my appointments and other things. Hopefully it won't be a big deal and everything will work out.

Other than that, my mind is a blur and I've been trying to take things moment to moment. When the suicidal thoughts hit, or the panic attacks, I tend to want to crawl into a hole and die. But they aren't getting worse, which I guess is a positive.

Anyway, more later this week...

A revelation and other things...

Tonight, I took the kids I nanny to diving practice. This is the same pool I coached at last summer, so I know a lot of the people there. I have known for years that my old therapist and her family belong there as well. And I even ran into her last summer. Tonight I ran into her again. I actually went up to her. I saw her as a therapist for 5 years and it was an intense and sometimes complicated and unhealthy relationship, and in the end I chose to leave her because things were too messy. But I hold no hard feelings against her. She saved my life in a lot of ways and saw me through the hellish years of high school. So, even though I get nervous when I see her, I never pass up an opportunity to go up and talk to her. And so that is what I did. She gave me a big hug and we talked for about 10 minutes. Just catching her up on where I am working these days, talking about our dogs, where I am living, and other gossip. At one point she said to me, "Well, you look wonderful!" To which I replied with, "Thank you! I have gained a lot of weight..." She said, "but you look healthy and happy".  To most people in recovery from an eating disorder, the word "healthy" is not a positive compliment. And usually I roll my eyes to myself when someone says that because I don't think they really mean that, blah blah blah. But when she said it to me, I felt that she meant it. I felt that she was happy for me. She also mentioned that it seemed like I was doing really well. The topic of my eating disorder and other related issues never came up, but perhaps what she was seeing was my "inner light", which so many people have told me over the past year that I have such a thing.  It motivated me to start doing better with life, with recovery. For so long I have wanted and tried to be sicker in order to gain attention and so-called praise. But tonight, something switched on (or off) in my brain. I realized how happy this person was for me. And she wasn't just some unimportant person in my life. She knew me like the back of her hand and knew all my deepest, darkest secrets. She was genuine in her compliments for me and it made me feel happy.

Depression wise, things are kind of at a stand still. That heaviness I was feeling is still there, though not quite as intense. I think I'm more numb than anything. Although, sometimes I wonder if I can really tell at all how I'm feeling. I'm not quite sure. It's frustrating. Thoughts of suicide are definitely still there, especially when I think about my future. I'm trying really hard to push through that, and of course stay honest with those thoughts.
I started a new medication for my depression. It's called Abilify and I am taking it in addition to the Prozac. It's make me pretty nauseous, but that's really the only side effect. I've only been on it a few days. Hopefully it will start to work soon.

Things with food are pretty okay. 2 weeks no purging. I struggle with restricting here and there, especially on the days that my anxiety is sky-high. It's by no means normal, or anywhere close to it. I'm scared of eating normal, of gaining weight. Speaking of that, I'm having a horrible time with body image. Especially since now the weather is so hot that I have to wear shorts. I try to remind myself of how strong my body is now, and that I'm healthy. Even though I know about where my weight is right now, I am making myself not look at my weight at my dietitian appointments, or using the scale at work. It gets me no where.

Tomorrow and Friday I have therapy and dietitian appointments. I'm pretty anxious about them. I do have a lot going on and I just hope I can find the strength to stay honest and use the tools and wisdom my treatment team provides me with.

Heavy

You probably saw the title of this post and thought it was going to be about body image and how I feel heavy. While I am struggling with that, this is not what this post is about.

I am talking about the heaviness I feel on my chest and my heart as a result of the depression I am dealing with. Depression is something I have struggled with for 13 years. It's not new, but it's starting to feel really old and I'm exhausted. I, on some level, always struggle with a mild form of depression, but there are times that I go through periods of pretty severe depression. When I feel in constant crisis mode, in a panic, being a step away from needing to be in the hospital. The thoughts of suicide are up and down. I don't have a plan to follow through on any of those thoughts. But it's scary none the less, feeling so miserable that I just want out.
I returned to therapy this week and it was honestly the best decision I have made in a long time. While I am still hesitant to be going every week, just because I am so scared of it making things worse, I am going to force myself to go. I had a REALLY hard session on Thursday. There was just so much to talk about and process. I didn't feel worse after the session, but I didn't feel better either. I think it brought up a ton of emotions, because the rest of the day I literally felt like I was going to fall apart. There was such a heaviness on my chest, the feeling of tears welling up behind my eyes and the tightness in my throat. It was horrible.

 By the end of the day I was so emotionally exhausted. I had a mild panic attack, mostly due to being so tired. So I just decided to go to bed. I ended up falling asleep at 10pm. I haven't gone to bed that early since Remuda. I slept a full 11 hours and thought I would wake up feeling better. I woke up still tired but with a somewhat clear mind. And then today when I getting ice cream with the kids I was babysitting, that panic, that heaviness on my chest all of a sudden came back. I have no idea what triggered it but it was awful. There was no escaping the situation I was in. I was taking care of 6 kids in a public place. I couldn't run off to the bathroom and take a breather, I couldn't step outside, I couldn't go get in my car and drive home. I texted a friend. I took some deep breaths. It eventually passed, not entirely, but enough to think clearly again. I got off work and just wanted to come home and cry in the shower, just sob my brains out. But I couldn't cry. THAT is not a good sign for me. Some of my lowest points with depression consisted of not being able to cry, so I would self-harm instead. That scares me. I want to cry because it does help me feel better. And especially right now when I feel SO overwhelmed with so many emotions. I started a new anti-depressant this week and I am hoping it will help with just everything.

My dog Sophie was diagnosed with cancer this week, stage 1. She is having a surgery to remove it on Tuesday and will be treated with a new vaccine for it. The vet says it's good they caught it early, that if they are able to treat it that she will be able to live a full life. If it is not able to be treated, she will be dead within a year.

I am looking forward to going to church on Sunday, with my neighbor and her friend, and going out to brunch afterwards. I have been praying so hard lately. Spirituality is so important to me.

I'm just dealing with a lot and don't even want to get into what is going on with my eating disorder. It's beyond frustrating and confusing. I am having a horrible time with my social life/friendships. That is definitely contributing to the depression.

I basically mindlessly rambled in this post and it probably doesn't make sense to anyone else. But it did help to type it all out.

up and down back and forth

I've been using the word "limbo" a lot to describe my state of mine lately. I really can't think of a better word. It's so black and white with me. Yes I want recovery! No I don't want to do this anymore! It's beyond frustrating. I have small, quick moments that are full of hope and positivity and self-belief. But they are few and far between. It's honestly exhausting and maddening to try and write or talk about what I feel. I can't form a complete sentence about it, which is why I am SO hesitant towards therapy. I'm afraid I won't make sense, and I'm afraid that this cycle of relapse/recovery will forever be one I struggle with.

My eating is becoming more and more normal. I have not purged in 6 days, tomorrow will be 1 week without it. I do feel a TON better physically. I was really damaging my body fast by the purging, and I just knew I couldn't keep up with my job if I was to continue to do that, so that's ultimately why I stopped. But I think about it every single day. And I WANT to do it, but I'm not. I'm eating more normally, like I said, but my thoughts are out of control. I hate that. I hate the extreme guilt and disgust, the feeling like I am doing something wrong by eating right. My body image is terrible. The amount of comparing I am doing to other people is ridiculous. I feel like everyone is thinner than I am. Even though I know it's not true, I sometimes believe that losing weight will make things so much better.

I went to church this morning. It was a church I haven't been to before. It reminded me SO much of the kind of church I went to in Remuda. The songs and sermons were so similar. I found myself in tears during one of the songs. I was crying out for help from God, for Him to heal my heart and my soul, to help me help myself. It was honestly a very moving and uplifting and clarifying experience. I am so glad I went and I am definitely going to go back next week.

I am returning to therapy this week and I am scared beyond words. I trust my therapist, I really do. But sometimes I am worried that I am not getting what I need out of therapy and I'm worried that if I voice that to my therapist that she is going to disagree. I'm just nervous and don't know what to expect but I guess all I can do is go and give it a try and see how it goes.

I haven't felt AS depressed this weekend, simply because it's the weekend and I don't have the added stress of work and other commitments. But it's definitely still lingering and I have that feeling of being trapped in my brain, in my thoughts, with escape feeling so far away. I don't want this whole borderline suicidal business to continue. I feel like an annoying, weak, pathetic person for struggling with this.

I guess I will see how this week goes, try and keep up the no more purging. And...no more self harm. Oh yeah, I self harmed the other night. Haven't told anyone about that. Because really...what are they going to say? I don't want to hear it. Anyway. That's all I got for now.

Bravery.

I got brave tonight. I emailed my therapist and admitted I needed help, that I was scared, and even though I hated myself for reaching out to her, I trust her and need her help. It's so painful waiting for a response.

I decided to reach out for help because, like I said, I was scared. I was having intrusive thoughts that could turn into very dangerous behaviors. I've come too far to go back to where I was in February 2011, suicidal and in the psychiatric hospital and on death's door from my ED. Deep down I don't want to die. But when things get really hard like they have been, something in my brain seems to think that's the best way out.

I had a conversation with a friend tonight that really made me wonder. Maybe I need to change up what I'm doing with therapy. Whether that be seeing a new therapist (which I REALLY don't want to do) or trying out DBT or EMDR or something else. I just feel like I need something different. Talking isn't really getting me anywhere these days. My dietitian has been helpful in the sense that every time I see her she gives me an assignment. For example, she had me buy calcium supplements and iron supplements and told me how much to take on a daily basis. She also had me research churches in my area and gymnastics gyms that offer adult classes. She always follows up with me on these assignments. It's accountability I guess. And it's helped me. I found a church. I signed up for gymnastics classes and I am taking my supplements. Maybe that's what I need to start doing with therapy. I don't know. And that's one of the things I addressed in my email to my therapist.

I've been seeking out all sorts of inspiration for recovery. I bought Johanna Kandel's book "Life Beyond Your Eating Disorder" a while back and I have started reading that again. I am going through assignments in my Remuda Ranch binder. I am reading inspirational blogs. I have deleted people off of my Facebook and Twitter who are not in recovery or who are triggering. I have been making inspirational playlists and spending more time devoted to prayer and meditation.

Today was day 3 of no purging. Which is the longest I have gone in a month. Woo Hoo! It's getting easier, it really is. Once you begin to break that cycle, the urges are less and less. I am still struggling with restricting though.

I am anxious for my dietitian appointment on Friday for a multitude of reasons. I know it will be a positive appointment. I am going to continue to NOT look at my weight and ask my dietitian to NOT tell me what the numbers are doing.

Things are improving, slowly but surely.

Stepping it up.

Things the past couple of days have been better. Well Friday was a complete disaster because I used ED behaviors, including purging. But yesterday and today had improvements. Today I actually ate like a normal person.  I had brunch, snacks, and dinner. I feel guilty because to me it felt like a binge. I guess deep down I know it wasn't a binge, but rather a normal amount. and it felt like a binge because it was the most I have eaten in a single day in about a month. Of course in my head I'm thinking, "oh my gosh I definitely just gained weight from eating that". Logically, we all know you can't gain actual body weight from one meal. But that fear was so real in my head. But I didn't even have an urge to purge. Which was actually nice for a change. Purging is so much more difficult than restricting because you have to plan around it. That it so stressful and exhausting in my opinion. I'm not sure what changed, if anything. I don't know if I'm more relaxed because it's the weekend, and once I go back to work tomorrow all the stress will come back.
I think since I have been restricting/purging so much, the urges to binge have increased. And I definitely have been bingeing and going through food at a not so normal pace. I feel really guilty and ashamed for that. And I know I know I need to eat more normally in order to prevent bingeing.
I'm having actual food cravings lately. It's scary. It makes me feel like I will be out of control if I just eat what I am hungry for. I think my hunger cues and thoughts about food and such are all over the place right now and it's kind of hard to distinguish what's coming from me or what's coming from my eating disorder.

I'm still set on taking a break from therapy. I think I made the right choice, even if my therapist doesn't. I trust myself that if I feel like I need to go back into therapy, then I will.

I've been thinking about Remuda a lot lately. NOT about going back, but just about my time there, especially the time I spent there last year. I am remembering things the staff said to me and things they helped me with. I have been going through my binders and my folders. I am just leaning on the strength I found when I was there and in the months after I came home. It's comforting. I made a playlist with all the songs we sang in chapel and all the songs we played in the lodge. I just find a lot of strength in remembering my time spent there, as well as a lot of hope. I need to remember why I don't want to go back there, but also remember what my time spent there gave me.

Well, I am trying to go to bed earlier these days. It's alright midnight and I've already taken my meds. So I should probably lay down and take it easy. I will update later on in the week.

Depressed

Today was a freaking awful day. I had therapy this morning and it sucked. I have been contemplating lately whether or not I should take a break from therapy. Because honestly right now it's just not doing much for me and I'm sick of talking about my feelings. So I made the decision today to take a break from therapy. I honestly felt SO much better after making that decision, which is weird. I have been in therapy once, sometimes twice, a week for the past 10 years of my life. The longest period of time I have gone without therapy is 3 months in those 10 years. I'm not saying that I am never going back to therapy. I think I still have a lot of work to do. But, right now I just need to step back and clear my head. My therapist seemed concerned, but said she put me down on her schedule for the week after next. I didn't say anything. I guess I will see how I feel next week without therapy and go from there. But as of right now, I am thinking of taking at least 3 weeks off. She says she thinks I need to be coming in every week right now.

I would love to be able to see my dietitian every week. I honestly have been finding our appointments SO helpful. I don't know why my dietitian sessions are helpful, and my therapy ones aren't. Maybe it doesn't matter. Or maybe it does? I don't know. The problem is I can't afford to see my dietitian once a week right now. So after our session next Friday, I am going to have to cut that back as well.

Last week someone asked me if I was depressed. I said absolutely not. Today I began to re-think that answer. And I have concluded that I know I am depressed. It's not debilitating. I still am able to function and go to work. But this depression is affecting my attitude, energy, patience level, and motivation, among other things. Obviously I know how to conquer this depression, but it's hard to remember what to do in the moment. Lately, I have had to have people remind me what to do. It's like I know somewhere in my head how to do this or what to do, but I don't automatically think of it. I tend to just stay stuck. That's so frustrating.

I got off work today and went to my parent's house. Which proved to be a bad choice. I felt annoyed and irritated and ignored. So I just left, without dinner and without talking to anyone really. I came home and attempted to hang out with my roommate, but my anxiety was at about a 9 1/2 at that point and I just needed to go to my room. I thought about reaching out to my therapist. But I couldn't because I felt like that would make me the biggest hypocrite in the world....telling her a few hours earlier I didn't want/need therapy right now, and then reaching out for help a few hours later. It would have made me feel really stupid. So I didn't. Instead, I called my second mom and talked to her. She helped calm my anxiety, gave me an "assignment" to journal and eat something, and then call her back in an hour to check back in. It was accountability and that was freakin' awesome to have. She wants me to check back in with her tomorrow.

So, that's what's going on with me. It pretty much sucks. But I want to end on a good note and say that I talked to my favorite RR staff person today and she made me laugh and gave me some encouragement. And to hear her say (or rather read) that she believes I will get through this (after all she went through with me, seeing me through treatment two times)....just gave me so much strength. I wish I could have reached through the computer and given her a hug in that moment. 
And I've made it two days without purging. :)