Friday, February 27, 2009

Finding my Grip

The last couple of weeks have been a roller coaster of uncertain emotions. Slips. Fall backs. 

I know I will never find the "core" to what started my Ed. I'd be digging in history far too much, as I already seem to do subconsciously on occasion. I'm finding my triggers though, but that's not enough. It's the communication of these that is most important. My relationships in life.

Something is different though. I feel a greater power over my cynical side. It's not washing over me as it usually does. I've simply had enough of it, that I can't continue believing I'm that bad of a person for wanting my life. This hostility is coming to an end, because I finally want it to.

Fear is temporary. Communication will kill the disorder.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Did I Really?

Last night was wonderful-went out to dinner with bf, had a Cajun salmon salad, 3 martinis...we then hung out with friends and came back home. K came over and we all did some wii bowling and rock band

I'm laying in bed. Half awake, I start talking. I ask the bf, Did I pretty much fall asleep on the couch? Yes. Was I in the bathroom on the floor? Yup. Did I throw up? Nope. So I was just like chillin in the bathroom by the toilet? Pretty much, and I brought you into bed to sleep.

Woah. I vaguely remember falling in and out of sleep in the living room while we watched TV. Vaguely remember sitting on the floor over the toilet. I had 3 drinks, plus one more when I got home. This really shows how little I ever drink, or at least how little I ever have more than one drink. 

After this conversation, bf said he did not feel well. He had a salad as well, and one beer. That was it. His head hurt so much he had to throw up, a couple times. I had drove to the store to buy him Advil around 5am. I'm not sure if it's just a really bad migraine, or if he's coming down with something. Either way I feel so bad, it's never fun to be in that kind of agony.

Since last weekend, I've been mentally and physically feeling well. I moved many of my kitchen and bathroom items into the bf's last night. I had gone grocery shopping at Whole Foods, then Hannaford. Over the past couple of months I have come to see that being at home triggers me extremely. I slipped back into bulimia staying there one night. When I'm here my anxiety is calmed, I'm relaxed and can think clear. I honestly do not feel safe being at my house unless my Dad or G is there. Even then I still don't want to be there.


Excellent little snack-awesome texture, taste, and  it's made by Larabar!

I'm going to get on my ass more about blogging-before during and a little after I was not doing anything blog wise. The affect this blog and others has on me in recovery is invaluable, and I need to remember this to keep me on the right track.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Still Here

This past weekend was a mess, ED wise. Today I feel much better and I'll leave it at that, instead of trying to figure out how and why it all happened.

I really loathe my over analyzing. Most of the time, and some times it can come in quite handy, and I feel more prepared/aware than others in situations. I've tricked myself into believing if I imagine every possible outcome for each moment, that I'll be less anxious and therefore be able to handle what happens. Thing is, I'm so into thinking what could happen (which I could call premature anxiety, haha) I am not even present in what is actually happening right then. In short, my mind goes blank. It's like I'm trying to end every one's sentence but keep getting it wrong. This does not ease my anxiety at all.

So today I'm keeping my mind shut. Trying not to jump the gun on things. Maybe feel present for long moments. Yes, that would be nice.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Relapse *CAUTION*

God, why was I not strong enough???

The high, the rush. Light headedness, spinning. Acid burning my throat. Heavy, bloodyshot eyes. Tight chest. Hot face.

I did what I never imagined I would do again. I don't know how I am going to explain this, to anyone really. My first thought was, "What is everyone going to think of me? I just won't say anything so no one will pay attention. What will my therapist think? Will she think I haven't been trying?" 

I'm tired of wanting, of needing things. My thoughts and feelings become so overwhelming I feel trapped. Alone.

I ate and puked. Puked, so I will not want to ever eat again. I really believe doing so will "straighten me up" so I will barely ever eat. I know my exact thinking pattern; crave food, think craving food is bad. Feel panicked, worried craving will get out of control. Think about food nonstop. Finally binge to get rid of craving. Purge so I won't want to eat again. Binging and purging is my "Go back to start, and try again at eating perfectly" move.

Will this game against myself ever stop?

Thursday, February 5, 2009


I saw my therapist L on Wednesday, and as usual, uncovered more repressed feelings, and they would be directed to my adolescent years. My consciousness of my body in space made me nervous. I was aware of this at a young age (6 or 7 I believe). As I grew older, changes were happening, I developed early. Period at age 10. Birth control at age 12 (periods were extremely abnormal). And many other things were changing with my body. I did not understand why, or how to stop these changes I didn't understand.

During those years, I had no one to turn to-I never trusted my Mom's opinion, in that I truly thought she was always lying to me, and didn't care. I'd ask, do you think I'm fat? No. Can you help me with my homework? Go ask your father. Can you drive me to a friends in town? No I'm busy. Throughout adolescence I gave up asking my Mother for anything, or help with anything. I came to believe she just did not give a shit, and that I was a huge stress to her, and she made that clear many times to me. I was emotionally alone, felt no connection or trust with my Mother, did not feel important to her.

In my teen years, I became depressed, and would inform my Mom I wanted help with it. It took more than a few screaming matches for her to give in, take responsibility of her child and help me feel better. Our home was a war zone for a good 8 years of my life. I was filled with resent, anger and disappointed in that my Mom was not acting in a motherly loving way I wanted and most importantly needed. I saw other friend's mothers, envying their involvement in their child's life. I felt unwanted, that I had too many needs, and that my feelings did not matter to anyone.

As an adult, I know my mom was sick. She stopped drinking when she was pregnant with me, and is now 23 years sober. I had talked to her shortly ago, and learned that she did not know how to interact with me. She explained I was upset one time, crying. She called her sponsor and asked for help, "What do I do?" they responded, "Give her a hug, comfort her." My mom's reaction was, "Well, how do I do that?" I also cannot recall her playing and interacting with me. If we did things together, it was always what she wanted. Things that didn't interest me. What about what I wanted? Our roles were very reversed to say the least.

With her lack of knowing how to be a nurturing, forgiving, loving mother, I often thought she was just plain stupid at times. She did not understand things, and could not process others' thoughts and accept there may be a different view. Now I understand how she, when having me, had just became sober, and had no idea how to care for a baby. Growing up my Mom's mom was very controlling. Work came first, then the kids. My mom was constantly controlled, belittled, and made to feel a failure. Her father was an alcoholic, who could not keep jobs. My grandmother was the breadwinner. My Mother did not feel important to her mother as well, in that her mother never gave her the attention and care she needed.

Without having proper care, growing from infant to adult, can affect people in all different ways. I became quiet, withdrawn, self conscious and had low self-esteem. This isn't any one's fault. Now, I am able to comprehend what has happened, forgive, and learn to excel. Breaking the traits that you grew up with, developed with, observed all are hard wired in the brain. My mother did not know how a child needs to be treated, was in recovery for alcoholism, and had limited emotional support. By third grade my need for my Mom was replaced by food. Food could help any mood, like a mom would. Help me feel better, happy, at least for the time I'm indulging in gorging my feelings.

I now know that the child inside me, is being neglected, by myself. The way I treat, think, and view myself. Continuing a deserved punishment from my past feelings and actions. Starve, restrict, and if you eat 'wrong' foods there are consequences. This fear is so real to me. It is real, in that I've experienced it. The food I used to eat left me unhealthy, and was extremely addicting. Either eat very limited types of food, or eat everything and go mad. My fear of if I eat 'normally' I will gain all the weight I lost, and people will not care for me anymore, think I'm out of control. Sadly, as I see it now, I became more noticeable after loosing all my weight. I liked this at first, then said, wait, why now? Answer: My body. Why: Now it's acceptable and worth others' time. But WHY? It reinforced the thought that my body was bad, wrong, and unwanted all my adolescence, so much my mother didn't care and couldn't handle me. I changed and started to be the center of attention. I grew strongly to hate this, wanting no one to look at me, notice me, think of me.

It is getting late, and I have much more to say, let out, feel, move past. To anyone that reads this, I will tell you that you are not alone with your struggles. They may be different, but they affect our lives. I want these affects, negative or positive, to give me strength to love myself and others. And feel life is worth living.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Fight, Flight, or Freeze?

This post may make little or no sense. I'm somewhat rambling.

First off, My boyfriend is the best. He went out of his way to get my laptop to feed off his router for internet access. Considering he didn't know his password, and the CD is in nowhere land, the customer service dude needs raise (as bf says). Is it silly I feel so great about him doing this for me? (I insisted; no its okay, it's not a big deal, you don't have to do that) He's such a sweetheart!

Things are well, they really are. In the realistic world that I'm in, things are going great. Why is it never enough? Oh yeah I want to be thinner. That dictates half my mood, often subconsciously. Why do I want to loose weight? I really honest to God don't know. All I could say is it will make me happier, solve all my problems, boost my self esteem, create world peace (okay last part is a bit out there).  And with recovery I already know loosing weight won't accomplish these things.

It's the high of believing I'm getting to 'that place' by loosing weight. Except I never get there. The high of excitement about getting to weigh yourself in the morning, giving you that extra push to do even better that day to still loose more. The high of being at a gathering, only munching on carrots and celery while everyone is stuffing their face with chips and cookies. The high of what feels like no one else in the world could achieve, and a feeling of difference from everyone. Identity.

Is it so crazy I want to keep recovering, but also so want to restrict, make rules, and loose weight?

With all honesty, I've been cutting out certain foods. I'm not eating full meals. I know how few a changes I could make to loose weight. Why am I afraid of maintaining a normal weight? I most of all want the outside of me to appear different, as in the mirror I see a person I can't stand to look at. I had a significant dream about mirrors a few nights ago, and how when I looked into it my reflection was upside down, as was a few items in the room (a bathroom), like the sink upside down on the ceiling. I talked with my therapist about how the correlation between mirrors and bathrooms, how much they are a part of our lives. Bathrooms mostly involve routines with our bodies, how we shower, wash our hands, do our makeup, dress, etc.

We bath/shower, do our "duty", there's the infamous scale, often a mirror over the sink, all which are related to the body, in the flesh, and most of the time you are alone in this very room. You have no choice but to be up close and personal with your body. If my subconscious has believed I think I look fat in the mirror, than even as I try to change my thoughts, mirrors trigger that inner part of me to say I'm still fat. As many other things do; scales, certain foods, etc can all have a subconscious label. (i.e. if you saw a snake in your kitchen, you might freak out if snakes aren't your favorite animal. Your subconscious will increase your heartbeat, getting ready for the Flight or Fight response.)

The daily reminder through these things is a key foundation which may regulate our mood, thoughts, and actions that impact our lives. I believe this is why living with an Ed, feeling/sensing something 'different' , not part of our routine, we immediately need to find a way to fix it so it doesn't disturb this routine.  Fight or Flight, Starve or Binge. It's important to know, there's a third response; freeze. Freezing gives opportunity to think, take in sensory information, and make a logical decision. Adding OCD to the picture makes recovery even more daunting, but accepting that I see all this is huge.

I'm learning how to freeze. 

What do you see now that you are in recovery?

Sunday, February 1, 2009

WTF is Normal?

I feel like I'm some heightened individual, who is so sensitive to their own feelings/surroundings/thoughts, it almost feels like I know too much, but I don't want to know this much(or have so many feelings...). Whatever part of the subconscious mind that stores past events, it's like always on, and my part of the brain that takes in sensory from the present moment is MIA. I can recognized this, and sadly I still can't retrain my subconscious, and I want to so badly. So this ends up in me faking emotions. Some are real, they really are. Some are so real that when they go away I think the worst. Some situations trigger my old thinking patterns. Especially now, when I am so in control of my life, with so many choices, I'm resorting to old survival habits.


Then I think I will be able to handle anything. I'll be numb. Wait, I feel that way now. My black and white logic is flashing two choices in my head:

Recovery, loose control, get fat, hate self.
Go back to Ed, feel numb, be skinny, hate self.

You could probably guess which one I want right now. Eating food makes me feel so weak at times, it reminds me of before, when I lost weight. How much I HATED my self and my body. How I would not go to school just because I felt I looked too fat from behind. How much I was conditioned to turn to food for any and all emotions-this too numbed me, but made me fat.

I feel when looking in the mirror I see my old self, my old body. I immediately get pissed. Think of all the shitty things in my life, and how I'll never accomplish great things. Struggling. I really don't want this, I feel like someone is playing a trick on me to feel and see this way, what feels like all the time. Did I deserve this?

My weight loss is the thing I am most proud of in my life. To loose 50lbs, healthily, was such an epiphany, an awakening of how to treat my body. Schooling in Massage Therapy only heightened my sense of well being. The Ed came after I graduated. Somehow anything I did in life was never good enough, especially for me.

I talked with my mom the other day, and felt some huge transition in how I observed her and my Dad's relationship. I always felt Dad just wanted her to get a job, contribute, be a better mother. I felt my mom was avoiding this all on purpose to piss him off, and to make me feel like the biggest burden in her life, the reason she couldn't. My Mom wanted support, emotionally, someone to understand. Their needs did not get met.

"You wanna know what it really is? I don't trust you." is what my Dad said to my Mom before she moved out. He didn't trust her from all the times she left him and my brother to go get drunk, be gone for days. Given my Mom has been sober 23 years, exactly when she was pregnant with me, those 18 years later he still did not trust her. My mom was trying to stay sober, and was so sick she could not raise me with complete attention, affection, and love. I put myself in her shoes, with an Ed, if I had a child now, would I be able to fully BE there for them? Will my Ed always be poking at me, trying to pull me away from complete care and love for a child? And to not replace the child as myself, ignoring my needs to stay out my Ed. I would never want to put a child, my child, in this situation.

Balance. I feel that huge urge to be perfect, and I don't even know what perfect is. There is no perfect, but I want there to be. Balance isn't perfect. You can although be mastered in anxiety and depression, with a side of OCD. You can not eat, you can shut yourself out from the world and others. My perfection looks like insanity-doing the same things over, and expecting a different result.

Last night, I slept 15 hours. After taking 3 xanax to calm me down, it did some good. I almost went out, to buy food, lots, eat it, pretend I'm okay with it, then purge it. The pills knocked me out before I could put anymore thought into getting up to go to the store. Not only that, I could actually physically feel what I would feel like if I had binged. I imagined it, and felt this cold, hard, sad rush in my body. That also stopped me too.

My Dad kept my mom and I in our house, to raise me, because he loved us. He still does. When not having trust in a relationship, things obviously can not work. He knew my Mom leaving with me meant many possible different father figures in my life, instability. My Mom was staying to get better, to seek a better relationship with my Dad. When it came down to it there was just to much past damage for it to work.

Mom, if you are reading this, I love you. You are a good person. It isn't any one's fault. As dysfunctional of a family we were, it was there, a family.

My Ed is shaped in many ways; my childhood, self image/self esteem, current thoughts and feelings about these things. I have suffered with every Ed, I have gone a few months without what felt like one-the time I lost all of 50lbs. But it was that foundation that my Ed really flourished on. Anyway that I eat now is dysfunctional. Eating/not eating triggers other parts of my Ed. It's complete madness.

I never wanted this to happen.