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.

Rough couple of days

So, I've had a rough couple of days.

I saw my dietitian last night and I finally opened up to her about my trauma. She already knew that something had happened, but didn't know much more than that. She told me she would be there for me when I was ready to talk to her about it. Last night I felt like I was in a safe enough place to do that. Pretty much halfway through talking about it I started to feel sick to my stomach. I probably should have stopped at that point, but I didn't. I did really want to tell my dietitian about it, and I knew she cared and would love me and support me regardless. But I also felt like if I told her I couldn't talk about it anymore, then I would be letting her down. I don't regret telling her, and I really felt the love from her (as I do every time I see her). At the end of our session she weighed me. It really got to me because...well I've been weighing myself. And the scale I have in my house is obviously different than my dietitian's. And so the number I saw last night at our appointment was pretty different than the number I saw the day before. But my dietitian explained to me that the number I was seeing at home was probably more accurate because, when she weighs me I'm wearing clothes, it's the end of the day, I have food in my stomach, etc. But it still upset me. And it just pissed me of and I was like, "Fuck the number on the scale!"
So, at the end of our session my dietitian walked down the parking lot with me because I was her last client of the day. I was getting pretty choked up on the elevator ride down. And I saw her look over at me, but she didn't say anything. When we got out to the parking lot, she put her stuff down, pulled me into her and gave me a big kiss on my forehead (I love when she does that) and held me for a long time. I just felt so safe and so loved in that moment. Noting I told her about my abuse made her think of me differently or think I was gross or stupid. She consoled me and comforted me. It felt really good. I really needed that.
But on my drive home I realized I needed to stop somewhere and get dinner. I was still feeling pretty sick from talking about my trauma. I bought dinner, and I ate it. But then I just...I don't know I really had an anxiety attack. I can't even remember now what was going on, but I just felt like I SO done talking about my abuse. I was done. I just don't want to talk about it ever again. It just makes me feel like crap. And then I got REALLY pissed off. Like really mad. Not at myself, but at my abusers. I just wanted to scream like...what the hell, why did you do this to me, fuck you, you ruined me. And then..and I don't know why..but I got mad at myself. Well, I do know why, but I just don't feel like getting into it because it's going to make me feel like crap.
So at this point, I wasn't feel too safe. I wanted to either binge/purge, or self harm. I texted my therapist. She told me to take deep breaths and go to sleep. I tried both but my mind was racing. I ended up self-harming. <--- Fail.

So, I woke up this morning and I was really sick. My throat hurt really bad yesterday, but today it hurt even worse. My voice was really hoarse. I was congested. I felt feverish and achy. I went to work, ate breakfast (even though I didn't want to). Work was pretty slow, so that was nice. Then I ate lunch (even though I didn't want to) and went to my next job. My therapist had texted me and asked how I was doing today. I told her about the self-harming last night. She just made sure I had something to do tonight to make sure I was safe. I took my temperature at my babysitting job and I had a low grade fever. I called the mom of the kids because I didn't know if she wanted me to go home so I wouldn't get the kids sick or whatever, but she said to just let the kids play outside and she was going to be home early anyway.

So, I went to my parent's house after work and had dinner there and watched TV. This night has been a lot better. I've been pretty numb emotionally today, but maybe that's just because I'm sick. I really hope tomorrow is better...in all ways.

I heard a song today that I wanted to share with yall because it just touched me so much and has such a great message. It's called "If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens. Look it up! ;)

Bad night

I am having a horrible night.

I am really depressed. I think my OCD is popping up too. I really want to clean the entire house top to bottom but I feel like that would make me feel worse because I would get exhausted and just get frustrated because I couldn't do it good enough.

I have tried things tonight to feel better. I took a bubble bath. I felt okay for a little bit. But then I got depressed again. I put on my favorite show, but it didn't make me laugh like it usually does. I tried to text my therapist and one of my friends, but it's late so I'm guess they didn't answer because they are asleep.

All I can think of doing is self-harming.
I'm not suicidal, I wouldn't try and kill myself, but in moments like these, death seems so much better. I hope I don't scare people by saying that. But it's just these moments get me down SO much.

Self-harming would not solve anything. Maybe I would feel better for an hour, but after that I would just feel worse.

I want to cry. But I feel like that's all I've done the past couple of days. I'm just so sick of it.

Everything feels wrong and out of place and I want to fucking scream at the top of my lungs.

I went to a surprise birthday party tonight. It was pretty miserable. I barely ate anything, which means I didn't have dinner tonight. I feel awful about that. I was not hungry. And I'm still not hungry.

My head is pounding. Probably because I have allergies and I haven't eaten that great today.

I hope this weekend that I can start to feel better.

I'm so sick of this shit.

nostalgia

I feel like my blog has been really boring/negative lately. At first I wanted to change it, but I realized if I did that then I wouldn't be writing things that aren't from my heart, and instead writing what people want to hear. A large part of why I keep this blog is for myself. It helps to sort out my thoughts, and what goes on for me day to day. The fact that my blog is public is because I hope that my struggles, as well as triumphs, will help people in some way, help them feel like they are not alone in their struggles. I think every one can benefit from knowing they aren't alone. That's my little thought for the day. Now onto some other things...

I don't know if it's the cooler weather, but lately I have been reminded of Remuda a lot. I hear a song that we used to play or sing, I see a shirt hanging in my closet that I wore when I was there, or my head just goes back to silly, yet meaningful memories. My first two weeks at Remuda this time around were hell. They were still trying to figure out my anxiety meds and nothing was really working. I was so anxious that I was regurgitating my meals (not on purpose). But none the less, I was still doing really hard work and interacting with the other girls. I don't know that I miss Remuda, well sometimes I do. As deeply uncomfortable as it was at times, there were also the times it felt comforting. The strict schedule, the faces of people you saw day in and day out, the horses, the chapel, it became familiar after a while. Maybe I have been thinking about it more because I have been struggling a little bit. Maybe I wish I could go back for a week and be reminded of why I don't want an eating disorder. But I know I don't want to go back...ever. And perhaps that's the best motivation ever. Knowing I don't want to waste another 3-4 months of my life. I know, it's not wasting it if I was getting help. But there is so much more than a life of eating disorders. This I have to believe, because I don't really remember a life consisting of a normal relationship with food. It will come, in time.

Therapy was...difficult yesterday. Not really in the mood to elaborate, but I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that I was extremely tired. I had another slip-up with self harm this week and...blah. I don't feel like writing about it. Moving on.


There's really not much else going on. I am so glad it's Friday. I am getting my hair dyed dark brown tomorrow. I can't wait! I am so tired of my boring brown hair. I don't have to work on Monday so I am really happy about that too. Anyway, that's all I have for now!

Day 1

I am now on day 1 of no self harm. I feel much better tonight. I texted my therapist today and told her about it. I was really nervous that she was going to get mad. But she wasn't. She was really concerned though. She helped me put together a plan for tonight to stay safe. I had dinner by myself tonight, instead of with my parents...because they have been stressing me out lately. I went to the library and got some new books, then I went to the grocery store and got dinner and some other things I needed, and now I'm sitting on the couch watching Law and Order. I suddenly got really tired when I sat down, and the day is catching up with me. I had a full day of work. My shift at the restaurant wasn't too busy, and then today with the kids was pretty easy. The youngest one made me play football and basketball with him, which I am sure is one of the reasons I am so tired. And then me and one of the girls made chocolate chip cookies from scratch which were delicious! So, it was a good day.

I am really thankful for the support from Erin last night. I wished I would have texted her before I self-harmed, but I am glad she was there for me afterwards. I don't have many people I can tell those things too. I am glad she understands on some level.

Tomorrow should be a good day. I have a massage in the morning which I am SO looking forward to. My friend Karen is giving me the massage and so it will be good to see her and talk to her as well. I know her words will help me feel better. That's really the only exciting thing happening tomorrow, but it should be enough to get me through the day.

Wednesday is going to be boring. Thursday I have therapy (thank God) and Friday should be boring too. But this weekend I am going out of town with my family and I am SO excited. I can't even explain the place because it is so wonderful. It's called The Homestead. But it's a 5 star resort in the mountains with a spa, indoor and outdoor pool, horseback riding, tea time (yes, they schedule a time for tea), really beautiful scenery, and super comfortable bed. It's going to be great!

Anyway, that's it for now!

Well shit.

I don't even want to write what I'm about to write. But here it goes.

I just relapsed with self-harm. I could feel it coming for the past several days. I wanted to desperately to fight it. But it was one of those instances where I could think of nothing else, and it was if my body was frozen in time. I almost self-harmed last night, but texted my therapist and she talked me out of it. I didn't even text my therapist this time. I just had to do it. I know that is stupid fucking thing to say. I was so miserable though. I felt stupid, ugly, fat, gross, dirty, out of control, alone, depressed, ashamed, etc. It was too much. I could not get over the disgust I feel about my body. I hate saying "no one understands", but that's how I truly feel sometimes. I have been at a consistent weight the past 8 years. Unhealthy weight at times, but consistent. I have always been toned and super muscular; a body every one wants. And since entering recovery, I know longer have that body and it hurts. I was at a healthy weight 10lbs ago. Yet I continued to gain. Everyone says your body takes a while for your weight to even out. Yet I have either kept gaining, or maintained. I want to be in the weight range the dietitians at Remuda gave to me. I want to lose weight.

But tonight was not about losing weight. It was about the torture inside my head. I have been so depressed the past few days. Do I feel better after cutting? Honestly...yes, I do. I know this will make everyone on my treatment team sad and disappointed, and that kills me. As bad as it sounds, I am really glad I did not purge. If I had purged, I think I would have felt a lot worse. Yes, I do feel bad about cutting. But it's not something I have had to work as hard at as cutting.


I know this is just a slip, not a relapse. I can choose where I go from here. And I choose to not slip up. I will tell my therapist. I will text her tomorrow. I will move on.

Anyway, I'm going to bed. More tomorrow.

lapse

3 weeks of no purging.

but...only 1 day with no cutting. yeah i had a lapse ( i had the word relapse).
i chose not to reach out to my therapist and instead use self destructive behaviors.
the purpose of my cutting worked though, which is scary and not good...i know.
i want to get back on track, but i am sick of feeling so many emotions at one time.
and cutting helps numb it.
i am out of town next week at the beach (so no therapy). I have to admit I am anxious about that.
but as much as i love my therapist and need her support, I have found myself very slowly starting to back away from her. this is a result from my relationship with my ex-therapist. i got so close with my last therapist and then we lost our connection and i had to leave her after 5 years (it's a really long and complicated story) , and i'm afraid of that happening again. I don't want to lose my therapist, so I think I'm sub-consciously backing away. it's scary getting close to her, because what if i lose her?