I guess the words to describe what I am feeling are...confused, frustrated, angry, depressed, and done. To me, it feels like I'm almost at a crossroads in my recovery. It's so tempting to go back to what is normal for me. It would be so easy, so familiar and comfortable. Yet, there is a part of me, this fairly new part of me, that for several months, actually imagined myself without an eating disorder. I could almost feel what it would feel like. It was very freeing, it was happy, it was something I thought I would never feel. That part of me is still there somewhere. I want to get back in touch with it. But I cannot find the motivation to find the motivation to do that (if that makes sense). It's a miserable feeling. I am terrified of never getting that motivation back. I'm used to not getting it back. I'm used to just existing and not living. What makes this time different?
The more I think about it, the more I want to get back to the Holly that I was right after Remuda. I don't want to relapse EVER again. I want this to be it.
What is making it so hard right now? I don't understand that. Am I not working hard enough? I feel like I have been working my butt off at recovery. I guess I need to try harder.
I'm almost at this point where I'm done. I want to turn my phone off. Stop communicating with my friends (who mean the world to me), stop talking to people, stop coming to therapy, etc.
But I just feel so...lost and incredibly frustrated and pissed off. For some reason I am angry at people who have completely recovered. It doesn't make sense to me. How does that work? I don't get how you can not have an ED at all anymore. It also makes me incredibly jealous and envious. And that something must be wrong with me that 9 years into my eating disorder, I still haven't managed to recover. It's scary and irritating.
My therapist and dietitian are absolutely wonderful and amazing people. I feel like they deserve so much more than what I am giving them. I wish I had the motivation to try harder. I don't understand what is wrong with me. I'm scared to let go completely of my ED. ED is my worth, the reason people care about me and love me, the reason I get attention and support. Without ED, I am nothing and I don't know who I would be. I guess recovery is a lot about figuring out who you are without ED. I'm having a hard time with that.
Motivation is something I don't have a lot of. I never really have, unless it came to sports. I could wake up at 5am every morning and do sports all day long and not give a second thought about it. I loved it more than anything. But school, recovery, work, my social life, or lack there of...I have a lack of motivation.
So...yeah. No one will probably comment on this. I'm not an inspiration anymore. I'm boring and typical. It's depressing and pathetic.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Surreal
This day has been so surreal. 1 year ago today I was admitted to Remuda Ranch East, here in Virginia. I spent the next 30 days at the ranch, and then transferred to Remuda Life Program in Arizona.
I remember one year ago today pretty clearly. I was still in the hospital, where I had been for the past 5 days, after almost attempting suicide. I found out on the 14th that I was going to be going to Remuda. My mom picked me up from the hospital at around 12pm. I remember walking outside the hospital and feeling the sunshine and the cold air on my face. It felt so good, after being in the hospital for nearly a week. My mom took me back to her her house, where I reunited with my dogs. My dad was on his way home with some subs from Subway. I took a long, hot shower and by the time I was done my dad was home. I barely ate my sub. Then my parents told me Remuda was expecting me by 2:30 or 3, so I drove back to my house and packed. It was weird, not having really any time to plan what I was going to pack. I basically put all of my winter clothes in my suitcase, and all the other essentials. Even though I was going to a treatment center, I still wanted to look my best. So I did my hair, and my make-up, and put on a cute outfit. I know that sounds crazy. Then, I loaded my two suitcases into my car and before I drove back over to my parent's house, I texted my therapist, who already knew what I was doing. But she gave me some last minute encouragement and said I could write her.
When I got to my parent's house, I put my stuff in my dad's car and we hit the road. I still remember sitting in the back seat, with my parents in the front. I looked out the window as we left town. I remember thinking that I couldn't believe I was going back to treatment. I had been wanting to go back for a few weeks, but didn't ever think my family could afford it.
On the way there, "M" called. He was my best friend at the time, my co-worker, my friend with benefits, whatever you want to call it. At the time, I didn't think it was an unhealthy relationship. I had a long conversation with him, which was awkward at times because my parents were in the front seat. My friend Karen also called, but I had put my phone on silent by then and missed her call, but listened to her voicemail once I realized she had called. I also texted all the trusted friends in my life and told them where I was going. I also had to call someone at my work to set up getting disability payments while I was away.
Remuda was about 1 hour away from my house, so we got there pretty quickly. I still remember the CD we listened to on the way there. As we got closer, I got more and more nervous, aware of the task that was in front of me. I knew it would be one of the hardest things I would ever do, but I also knew it was completely necessary.
We arrived at Remuda, which looks so beautiful when you are driving down the long driveway. I saw the horses out in the field and the "Expect A Miracle" sign that was right near the entrance.
We pulled up and went inside where an admissions rep welcomed us. The next half hour or so was full of going over and signing paper work. Then I said goodbye to my parents.
One of the BHT's came up and took me down to the lodge where I would be staying. I remember walking in and seeing all the other women, and being introduced to them. I did a bunch of paperwork, and met the other new girl that came that day, Ashley. She was my admit buddy, my roommate, my family week buddy, and my discharge buddy. Needless to say, we formed a special bond. I had another BHT show me my room and help me unpack. I got the standard EKG, blood work, weight, height, blood pressure, pulse, and other medical work-up done.
The rest of the day is kind of a blur. I vaguely remember dinner. I surprised myself with how much I ate. That's about all I remember from that day, though.
The next several weeks were extremely challenging, but also rewarding, and at times fun. Like I said, I can't believe it's been a whole year. I feel like relived all of it today. It felt so strange, and almost nostalgic in a way.
It's also crazy to think of how far I have come since then, leaps and bounds.
What an awesome journey it has been so far.
I remember one year ago today pretty clearly. I was still in the hospital, where I had been for the past 5 days, after almost attempting suicide. I found out on the 14th that I was going to be going to Remuda. My mom picked me up from the hospital at around 12pm. I remember walking outside the hospital and feeling the sunshine and the cold air on my face. It felt so good, after being in the hospital for nearly a week. My mom took me back to her her house, where I reunited with my dogs. My dad was on his way home with some subs from Subway. I took a long, hot shower and by the time I was done my dad was home. I barely ate my sub. Then my parents told me Remuda was expecting me by 2:30 or 3, so I drove back to my house and packed. It was weird, not having really any time to plan what I was going to pack. I basically put all of my winter clothes in my suitcase, and all the other essentials. Even though I was going to a treatment center, I still wanted to look my best. So I did my hair, and my make-up, and put on a cute outfit. I know that sounds crazy. Then, I loaded my two suitcases into my car and before I drove back over to my parent's house, I texted my therapist, who already knew what I was doing. But she gave me some last minute encouragement and said I could write her.
When I got to my parent's house, I put my stuff in my dad's car and we hit the road. I still remember sitting in the back seat, with my parents in the front. I looked out the window as we left town. I remember thinking that I couldn't believe I was going back to treatment. I had been wanting to go back for a few weeks, but didn't ever think my family could afford it.
On the way there, "M" called. He was my best friend at the time, my co-worker, my friend with benefits, whatever you want to call it. At the time, I didn't think it was an unhealthy relationship. I had a long conversation with him, which was awkward at times because my parents were in the front seat. My friend Karen also called, but I had put my phone on silent by then and missed her call, but listened to her voicemail once I realized she had called. I also texted all the trusted friends in my life and told them where I was going. I also had to call someone at my work to set up getting disability payments while I was away.
Remuda was about 1 hour away from my house, so we got there pretty quickly. I still remember the CD we listened to on the way there. As we got closer, I got more and more nervous, aware of the task that was in front of me. I knew it would be one of the hardest things I would ever do, but I also knew it was completely necessary.
We arrived at Remuda, which looks so beautiful when you are driving down the long driveway. I saw the horses out in the field and the "Expect A Miracle" sign that was right near the entrance.
We pulled up and went inside where an admissions rep welcomed us. The next half hour or so was full of going over and signing paper work. Then I said goodbye to my parents.
One of the BHT's came up and took me down to the lodge where I would be staying. I remember walking in and seeing all the other women, and being introduced to them. I did a bunch of paperwork, and met the other new girl that came that day, Ashley. She was my admit buddy, my roommate, my family week buddy, and my discharge buddy. Needless to say, we formed a special bond. I had another BHT show me my room and help me unpack. I got the standard EKG, blood work, weight, height, blood pressure, pulse, and other medical work-up done.
The rest of the day is kind of a blur. I vaguely remember dinner. I surprised myself with how much I ate. That's about all I remember from that day, though.
The next several weeks were extremely challenging, but also rewarding, and at times fun. Like I said, I can't believe it's been a whole year. I feel like relived all of it today. It felt so strange, and almost nostalgic in a way.
It's also crazy to think of how far I have come since then, leaps and bounds.
What an awesome journey it has been so far.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Today marks...
Today marks 1 year without purging!
It's hard to believe, but I'm SO glad it's true! This is the longest I have gone in 5 years!
Look out tomorrow for another blog post about another meaningful milestone!
It's hard to believe, but I'm SO glad it's true! This is the longest I have gone in 5 years!
Look out tomorrow for another blog post about another meaningful milestone!
Friday, February 10, 2012
Mega Update
I realize it has been a long time since I posted. While speaking with my dietitian today, I realized this and decided I needed to get back into blogging.
Things are still pretty hard. I had a terrible week. Absolutely horrible. I saw my psychiatrist on Monday, and he upped the dosage on my Prozac, so now I'm on the maximum dosage. Well, the next day when I started taking it, I felt so strange. I was shaky all over, dizzy, terrible migraine, absolutely no appetite. I figured it would just last the first day. I was wrong. The next day, the symptoms were even worse. I was doing really badly with my eating. Wednesday night, I fainted. I was alone in my house. It was really scary. It probably had to do with the fact that I hadn't had anything substantial to eat in almost 48 hours. I think it was then that I realized all of these symptoms had more to do with my eating, then it had to do with my medication.
Thursday I saw my therapist. It was a really good session. We talked about all the problems I had been having with my medication, and she told me I needed to be eating better, even if I wasn't hungry. We talked a lot about the destructive relationship I was in last year, and how feelings about/for him have been coming back up. We also talked about a slip up with self harm that I had over the weekend, and we processed that. For some reason I can't remember what else we talked about, but I do remember that I left feeling relieved.
Then I saw my dietitian this morning. I was really nervous. She had me keep a food journal for the past week, and I knew my eating had sucked. She agreed. But it was a really, really awesome session. She explained to me the model of the recovery process. I wish I had a link to give you all, but she just had a sheet of paper. But, she asked me to point out where I thought I was in my recovery. I thought I was in the "need for behaviors" part, but she told me she disagreed and said I was a step above, where it's basically a rollercoaster, lots of ups and downs, but still feeling all your feelings. It was encouraging to hear her say that, and tell me that I have not relapsed.
She seems pretty concerned though, for good reasons, and wants me to come in once a week for a while.
Today marked 1 year since I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital. It's crazy to me how fast this year has gone by. It still all feels like yesterday. I am so thankful to be alive, for choosing to live, and choosing to get help.
My best friend Ashley is coming to visit me on Sunday. She was my roommate at Remuda, we had the same admit and discharge date and family week too. We had such a special bond at Remuda, which has maintained outside of treatment as well. I am so excited to see one of my soul sisters!
Anyway, that's about all. I'm so glad it's the weekend.
Things are still pretty hard. I had a terrible week. Absolutely horrible. I saw my psychiatrist on Monday, and he upped the dosage on my Prozac, so now I'm on the maximum dosage. Well, the next day when I started taking it, I felt so strange. I was shaky all over, dizzy, terrible migraine, absolutely no appetite. I figured it would just last the first day. I was wrong. The next day, the symptoms were even worse. I was doing really badly with my eating. Wednesday night, I fainted. I was alone in my house. It was really scary. It probably had to do with the fact that I hadn't had anything substantial to eat in almost 48 hours. I think it was then that I realized all of these symptoms had more to do with my eating, then it had to do with my medication.
Thursday I saw my therapist. It was a really good session. We talked about all the problems I had been having with my medication, and she told me I needed to be eating better, even if I wasn't hungry. We talked a lot about the destructive relationship I was in last year, and how feelings about/for him have been coming back up. We also talked about a slip up with self harm that I had over the weekend, and we processed that. For some reason I can't remember what else we talked about, but I do remember that I left feeling relieved.
Then I saw my dietitian this morning. I was really nervous. She had me keep a food journal for the past week, and I knew my eating had sucked. She agreed. But it was a really, really awesome session. She explained to me the model of the recovery process. I wish I had a link to give you all, but she just had a sheet of paper. But, she asked me to point out where I thought I was in my recovery. I thought I was in the "need for behaviors" part, but she told me she disagreed and said I was a step above, where it's basically a rollercoaster, lots of ups and downs, but still feeling all your feelings. It was encouraging to hear her say that, and tell me that I have not relapsed.
She seems pretty concerned though, for good reasons, and wants me to come in once a week for a while.
Today marked 1 year since I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital. It's crazy to me how fast this year has gone by. It still all feels like yesterday. I am so thankful to be alive, for choosing to live, and choosing to get help.
My best friend Ashley is coming to visit me on Sunday. She was my roommate at Remuda, we had the same admit and discharge date and family week too. We had such a special bond at Remuda, which has maintained outside of treatment as well. I am so excited to see one of my soul sisters!
Anyway, that's about all. I'm so glad it's the weekend.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
I don't want an eating disorder anymore
I don't want this anymore. I don't want to keep trying and trying to recover, only to fail and continually fall back into old patterns and behaviors. I have been battling this for nine long years. And until last year, I really didn't ever want to get better or recover. But now I do. And now, almost at my one year anniversary in recovery, I feel like I'm losing all of the progress I have made. I don't want know happened. Nothing particularly horrible or traumatic occurred. I just seemed to lose my drive and my motivation.
It's scary because as much as I don't want my eating disorder, part of me doesn't really care. I could relapse with purging, lose all the weight I have gained, and somehow my brain thinks I would be happy doing that. Of course that is the biggest lie ever. When I compare myself to this time last year, I was basically dead. I had no quality of life. But I guess that's just ED telling me that he knows what's best for me, trying to kill me and ruin my life once again.
My hope is not completely lost, and I have not "relapsed". I guess that's what I need to be holding onto right now. "Stay with recovery, you have come so far" is what my therapist said to me this week. She's right, I have come so far. Farther than I ever thought possible. So what's with this sudden desire to go running back to misery?
I have started questioning again if full recovery is possible for me. I know so many people who have recovered. I don't get it. It doesn't make sense to me. How did they do that? I know recovery is process, I know it's something that takes years. I am willing to be patient and go through that process. But I just feel like, maybe it's not meant for me.
I have the skills, I have the tools, I have the support. Ultimately, the desire to get better, the motivation, has to come from me. I realize that I too often lean on outside support to get me through times of trouble or chaos. I need to look within.
Maybe I need to try harder at everything.
What I do know is that I am a fighter. I do not give up. I will keep at recovery.
I want someone to tell me...okay this is what you need to do, so do it. I feel like my dietitian has helped me with that, and so has my therapist. But I want it on paper, to look at and remind myself of everyday.
I don't know.
It's scary because as much as I don't want my eating disorder, part of me doesn't really care. I could relapse with purging, lose all the weight I have gained, and somehow my brain thinks I would be happy doing that. Of course that is the biggest lie ever. When I compare myself to this time last year, I was basically dead. I had no quality of life. But I guess that's just ED telling me that he knows what's best for me, trying to kill me and ruin my life once again.
My hope is not completely lost, and I have not "relapsed". I guess that's what I need to be holding onto right now. "Stay with recovery, you have come so far" is what my therapist said to me this week. She's right, I have come so far. Farther than I ever thought possible. So what's with this sudden desire to go running back to misery?
I have started questioning again if full recovery is possible for me. I know so many people who have recovered. I don't get it. It doesn't make sense to me. How did they do that? I know recovery is process, I know it's something that takes years. I am willing to be patient and go through that process. But I just feel like, maybe it's not meant for me.
I have the skills, I have the tools, I have the support. Ultimately, the desire to get better, the motivation, has to come from me. I realize that I too often lean on outside support to get me through times of trouble or chaos. I need to look within.
Maybe I need to try harder at everything.
What I do know is that I am a fighter. I do not give up. I will keep at recovery.
I want someone to tell me...okay this is what you need to do, so do it. I feel like my dietitian has helped me with that, and so has my therapist. But I want it on paper, to look at and remind myself of everyday.
I don't know.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Stepping it up.
I saw my dietitian tonight. Well, let's just say it didn't go as I expected it to. That doesn't mean it was bad though. In fact, it was probably the best session I have had with her in a while. We covered a lot of ground, and I left feeling like we talked about everything I needed/wanted to.
I have been mainly struggling with depression, as well as increasing anxiety. But in my mind I felt like I was doing "fine" with food. But when she asked me tonight if things were going well with food, I just sort of spit out "No, not really." And then I proceeded to tell her what my food intake has been like. Of course she was concerned and asked if I thought it would help if she put together a plan. So, she basically put together a plan similar to the one Remuda Ranch gave me. That freaked me out because, that just feels like so much food to me. She reassured me that it's not. I then asked if this plan would make me gain weight, she said no. She wrote down the plan and then made copies of it so I could check each meal off, or not check it off every day. She wants me to come back in a week and see how the plan worked.
So, I don't know. I guess I was just kind of surprised because I didn't realize how off track I was. I guess I really need to start stepping it up. I don't want to relapse. Please God, I don't want to relapse. So how come when I was driving home tonight did I feel like I wanted to throw in the towel and go back to the arms of my eating disorder and not hold on to recovery? What is going on with me?
I am leaning pretty heavily on support from my treatment team and supportive people in my life. Although I have found myself not talking to my friends from treatment. I guess I just feel embarrassed. I don't want to worry them, or burden them. I know some of them are having struggles of their own, and I don't want to make it any worse. I know we have a sisterhood, a bond that I have never known before, but my ED wants me for his own and is pulling me away from them. I feel terrible about that.
I'm also leaning pretty heavily on prayer. I just know God will see me through this. I know He will help me find my way out of this. I know He is going to make me stronger and braver.
Anyway, I have therapy in the morning. I feel like I could talk for hours and hours about everything. I hope I leave feeling somewhat better, and not worse.
Hopefully things will turn around soon.
I have been mainly struggling with depression, as well as increasing anxiety. But in my mind I felt like I was doing "fine" with food. But when she asked me tonight if things were going well with food, I just sort of spit out "No, not really." And then I proceeded to tell her what my food intake has been like. Of course she was concerned and asked if I thought it would help if she put together a plan. So, she basically put together a plan similar to the one Remuda Ranch gave me. That freaked me out because, that just feels like so much food to me. She reassured me that it's not. I then asked if this plan would make me gain weight, she said no. She wrote down the plan and then made copies of it so I could check each meal off, or not check it off every day. She wants me to come back in a week and see how the plan worked.
So, I don't know. I guess I was just kind of surprised because I didn't realize how off track I was. I guess I really need to start stepping it up. I don't want to relapse. Please God, I don't want to relapse. So how come when I was driving home tonight did I feel like I wanted to throw in the towel and go back to the arms of my eating disorder and not hold on to recovery? What is going on with me?
I am leaning pretty heavily on support from my treatment team and supportive people in my life. Although I have found myself not talking to my friends from treatment. I guess I just feel embarrassed. I don't want to worry them, or burden them. I know some of them are having struggles of their own, and I don't want to make it any worse. I know we have a sisterhood, a bond that I have never known before, but my ED wants me for his own and is pulling me away from them. I feel terrible about that.
I'm also leaning pretty heavily on prayer. I just know God will see me through this. I know He will help me find my way out of this. I know He is going to make me stronger and braver.
Anyway, I have therapy in the morning. I feel like I could talk for hours and hours about everything. I hope I leave feeling somewhat better, and not worse.
Hopefully things will turn around soon.
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