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.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
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."
"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."
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
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.
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.
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