Remember yesterday when I said I was invited to do something with JA tonight? I turned the invitation down. At first I thought it was because I was tired (I finally fell asleep at 4am last night and woke up at about 9am) but I'm starting to think that I let my depression make the decision for me. So I'm alone in the house and sad. Therefore, in lieu of fostering friendships and having real human contact I will reflect back on 2010. (This post is lengthier than my usual posts, but I promise it reads quickly.)
I began the year fresh out of treatment on shaky grounds. I had every intention of holding onto recovery from my eating disorder and depression, but by mid-January I was already restricting, abusing laxatives, and feeling suicidal. It happened so fast, but I was determined to stay at uni until I died either by my own hand or from anorexia because I did not want to take another medical leave. Well, that didn't turn out so great, and on the ides of March my parents, sisters, uni and the police showed up at my apartment to stage an intervention and take me to the hospital.
The first hospital I was sent to was awful-- they kicked me out of the eating disorder wing because I was "too severely suicidal" and put me in the general psych wing. It was me and several large men with anger problems, so I spent my time trying not to be assaulted. On my first night one patient was having a fit of rage and was smashing everything in the ward. Because the nurses were so preoccupied with controlling him (they injected him with sedatives against his will) that they forgot to take my shoelaces and sharps away from me. Great place.
I was then transferred to another psych hospital in another city and was rushed to the ER because I had a severe phosphorus deficiency that could have led to a heart attack. I stayed in the medical (meaning non-psych) hospital for five days, and was then transferred back to the eating disorder unit of the psych hospital. There I was forced by Shrinkiepoo, my psychiatrist, to undergo ECT which ended up being incredibly traumatic for me. But not everything about the hospital was bad-- I met my good friend DD, and it did somehow manage to get me back on my feet.
I was discharged at the end of April, and I spent the rest of the spring and part of the summer in a partial hospitalization program. It was completely useless, but it made other people feel comforted so I did it anyway. In June one of my dogs, one of my babies, passed away and I began to be haunted by images of his death. Also in June I initiated therapy with D and joined his eating disorder group-- both of which were good decisions. When I was discharged from the program I got a job as a waitress but left because I was sexually harassed by a customer and my boss. Then I took an awesome philosophy class over the summer.
In August I applied to return from medical leave to uni, and was granted permission to do so. I spent the first three weeks of the month preparing myself, and ended up firing Shrinkiepoo because of how controlling he had become and because of the trauma associated with the ECT. I found a new psychiatrist, Dr. N, who is very smart but I am still hesitant to trust her because the betrayal I experienced with Shrinkiepoo cut me really deep.
A week before school was due to start uni reneged and I was forced to scramble to find alternative plans-- taking classes at a local college. The semester at the local college was pretty successful. I managed to keep my eating and mood in relatively good spaces, and I joined a club-- wind ensemble. I also really enjoyed my Modern German Film course.
Just recently I have been granted permission (again) to return to uni in January. I am simultaneously excited and anxious.
So this is where I am now: I am in a better place now in terms of eating than I have been since I was thirteen (did I ever tell you I got kicked out of a summer camping trip program when I was thirteen because I refused to eat?), and my mood is not great, but manageable. I am beginning the new year at a relatively strong point, and I'm hoping that things will only continue to improve. There are a lot of things I want to accomplish in 2011 and I do not intend to let my eating disorder and depression take those away from me. They've already taken enough.
So happy new year, readers! I am so glad to have you in my life. May 2011 bring you nothing but good things.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Reuinion With JA
It is currently 2:15am. I had a busy day yesterday (Thursday)!
During the day I had an appointment with my dietitian. And, for the first time in a long, long time we actually talked about food and eating. She asked me whether I measure my food or not and I told her I don't, and she suggested that when I return to uni I might want to consider doing so so I don't slip. She also asked me if I had used behaviors since the last time I saw her and I said no, which isn't true. I actually made it a full 13 days until today when, in anticipation of a party (more on that in a moment), I restricted and hopped myself up on caffeine. But I didn't want to tell her that I was currently using behaviors because I knew she would ask me to get back on track with a snack or somehow make up the exchanges (i.e., calories) later in the day, but I didn't want to get back on track so I avoided talking about it altogether. I suppose I could have told her the truth and then just not have followed her instructions, but lying felt like a much easier option.
I think today was the last time I'm going to see my dietitian. Uni starts in about 12 days (!) and I won't be seeing her before then, and I also won't be seeing her during the semester. And D said that if things keep on going the way they are going with me in terms of eating that there is no need for me to return to her. That makes me glad because frankly our appointments were a waste of time (most of the time we would talk about theater), but it's also kind of bittersweet because she's such a nice woman. For example, I told her that I was going to a party at night and she asked if there was going to be drinking. I told her that there would be alcohol there, but because I was planning on driving home I would only allow myself to have one beer early in the evening if at all. She then gave me her cell phone number and instructed me to call her if I was too drunk to drive so that she could pick me up. That was very awesome of her. She really cares.
Then in the evening I met up with my friend HK for tea. We, as always, had witty banter, and I had a pretty good time. One of our topics of discussion was whether it hurts more for a man to be kicked in the crotch or for a woman to give birth, and I told him that the answer was clearly childbirth. He disagreed.
I had to end my evening with HK early so I could go to a party at JA's house. A refresher: JA was my best friend in high school, but I haven't seen her in about 3.5 years. I was really nervous to see her because of body image issues (the last time I saw her I was grossly underweight and now I am at what would, I think, be described as a "healthy" weight) and because I was afraid we wouldn't be able to relate anymore. But it was amazing seeing her-- I really do love her. She also invited me to do something tonight for New Years Eve, which is an improvement over my plans to sit at home and watch the movie that I rented from the library: Valkyrie. Although I'm not sure if I want to go. It might be too much in two days, you know? (By the way, I didn't end up drinking or smoking-- there was marijuana there too, but it was already really late and I didn't want to drive home high-- so I had no need to call my dietitian.)
So now it's 2:45am and I am still wide awake because of the caffeine. I may never fall asleep.
During the day I had an appointment with my dietitian. And, for the first time in a long, long time we actually talked about food and eating. She asked me whether I measure my food or not and I told her I don't, and she suggested that when I return to uni I might want to consider doing so so I don't slip. She also asked me if I had used behaviors since the last time I saw her and I said no, which isn't true. I actually made it a full 13 days until today when, in anticipation of a party (more on that in a moment), I restricted and hopped myself up on caffeine. But I didn't want to tell her that I was currently using behaviors because I knew she would ask me to get back on track with a snack or somehow make up the exchanges (i.e., calories) later in the day, but I didn't want to get back on track so I avoided talking about it altogether. I suppose I could have told her the truth and then just not have followed her instructions, but lying felt like a much easier option.
I think today was the last time I'm going to see my dietitian. Uni starts in about 12 days (!) and I won't be seeing her before then, and I also won't be seeing her during the semester. And D said that if things keep on going the way they are going with me in terms of eating that there is no need for me to return to her. That makes me glad because frankly our appointments were a waste of time (most of the time we would talk about theater), but it's also kind of bittersweet because she's such a nice woman. For example, I told her that I was going to a party at night and she asked if there was going to be drinking. I told her that there would be alcohol there, but because I was planning on driving home I would only allow myself to have one beer early in the evening if at all. She then gave me her cell phone number and instructed me to call her if I was too drunk to drive so that she could pick me up. That was very awesome of her. She really cares.
Then in the evening I met up with my friend HK for tea. We, as always, had witty banter, and I had a pretty good time. One of our topics of discussion was whether it hurts more for a man to be kicked in the crotch or for a woman to give birth, and I told him that the answer was clearly childbirth. He disagreed.
I had to end my evening with HK early so I could go to a party at JA's house. A refresher: JA was my best friend in high school, but I haven't seen her in about 3.5 years. I was really nervous to see her because of body image issues (the last time I saw her I was grossly underweight and now I am at what would, I think, be described as a "healthy" weight) and because I was afraid we wouldn't be able to relate anymore. But it was amazing seeing her-- I really do love her. She also invited me to do something tonight for New Years Eve, which is an improvement over my plans to sit at home and watch the movie that I rented from the library: Valkyrie. Although I'm not sure if I want to go. It might be too much in two days, you know? (By the way, I didn't end up drinking or smoking-- there was marijuana there too, but it was already really late and I didn't want to drive home high-- so I had no need to call my dietitian.)
So now it's 2:45am and I am still wide awake because of the caffeine. I may never fall asleep.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Revisiting My First Time In Treatment
Today was another down day. I spent the morning looking at my old pictures from treatment when I was 17 and I couldn't stop crying. It probably had something to do with the fact that many of the pictures I have are of JB, my friend and roommate who committed suicide a week after she was discharged. I also miss my friends. It's really hard to have the people with whom you are the closest live hundreds or thousands of miles away. These people are the ones that can understand me the best, yet I haven't seen most of them in years.
And, this might seem weird, but I had some good times in treatment. Of course, inpatient treatment is hard work and sometimes incredibly painful, but this particular program also emphasized the importance of positive experiences. For example, on one of the weekends over the summer we took a trip to a nearby lake and had a beach day which included banana boating and jet skiing. Besides getting sun poisoning and terribly burned (I am very pale and therefore sensitive to the sun-- no matter how much sunscreen I wear I always get burned) it was an amazing day.
Finally, the vast majority of the staff was amazing. There was this particular case manager who I loved. She really made the clients' happiness a priority-- she would bring her blind and deaf dogs that she rescued to visit us, and she instituted crazy hair days. She tried to appear emotionally unattached to the clients, but there were times when I could tell she cared. Once she and I were walking together outside and I told her about my first suicide attempt. She turned to me and said "Why didn't you come here sooner?" She didn't say it meanly; she said it as if she felt sad that I had suffered for so long. Unfortunately she left before I did; she followed her long-term girlfriend to another state for work. But the care that she expressed for me has always meant so much to me.
After spending my morning reminiscing, I spent the afternoon thinking about my funeral. This is always a recurrent thought when I'm feeling depressed-- I imagine myself dead and no one cares enough to come.
Some days being alive is a chore. I want to die and never experience pain or life again. Of course, I wouldn't be able to experience pleasure either, but since I pretty much never feel happy it's not that much of a sacrifice. As I (and Rent) have said, reason says I should have died three years ago.
And, this might seem weird, but I had some good times in treatment. Of course, inpatient treatment is hard work and sometimes incredibly painful, but this particular program also emphasized the importance of positive experiences. For example, on one of the weekends over the summer we took a trip to a nearby lake and had a beach day which included banana boating and jet skiing. Besides getting sun poisoning and terribly burned (I am very pale and therefore sensitive to the sun-- no matter how much sunscreen I wear I always get burned) it was an amazing day.
Finally, the vast majority of the staff was amazing. There was this particular case manager who I loved. She really made the clients' happiness a priority-- she would bring her blind and deaf dogs that she rescued to visit us, and she instituted crazy hair days. She tried to appear emotionally unattached to the clients, but there were times when I could tell she cared. Once she and I were walking together outside and I told her about my first suicide attempt. She turned to me and said "Why didn't you come here sooner?" She didn't say it meanly; she said it as if she felt sad that I had suffered for so long. Unfortunately she left before I did; she followed her long-term girlfriend to another state for work. But the care that she expressed for me has always meant so much to me.
After spending my morning reminiscing, I spent the afternoon thinking about my funeral. This is always a recurrent thought when I'm feeling depressed-- I imagine myself dead and no one cares enough to come.
Some days being alive is a chore. I want to die and never experience pain or life again. Of course, I wouldn't be able to experience pleasure either, but since I pretty much never feel happy it's not that much of a sacrifice. As I (and Rent) have said, reason says I should have died three years ago.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Message To Shrinkiepoo
Today I've felt depressed. "Down" is the best word to describe it-- I've felt like something is just pulling me down, emotionally and physically. Maybe it's due in part to fatigue, but I also just think it's part of the hand I've been dealt.
I had a session with D this afternoon. Apparently Shrinkiepoo called him recently asking if I was returning to uni and if so, would I like a recommendation for a psychiatrist if I decide not to return to him. D hasn't returned his call, but he asked me if there was any message that I would want him to pass on to Shrinkiepoo. I told him that I wanted him to tell Shrinkiepoo how traumatizing ECT was for me. How it felt worse than being sexually assaulted. Twice.
I don't know what I want from Shrinkiepoo. I think I want an apology from him-- some acknowledgment that he made a mistake. I'm not sure if I'm going to get it-- my guess is no. Which will just make me angrier.
I had a session with D this afternoon. Apparently Shrinkiepoo called him recently asking if I was returning to uni and if so, would I like a recommendation for a psychiatrist if I decide not to return to him. D hasn't returned his call, but he asked me if there was any message that I would want him to pass on to Shrinkiepoo. I told him that I wanted him to tell Shrinkiepoo how traumatizing ECT was for me. How it felt worse than being sexually assaulted. Twice.
I don't know what I want from Shrinkiepoo. I think I want an apology from him-- some acknowledgment that he made a mistake. I'm not sure if I'm going to get it-- my guess is no. Which will just make me angrier.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Four Days Inside
I haven't left the house since Thursday and I'm going a little stir crazy. Friday was a pajama day, Saturday was Christmas and both of my plans bailed on me, Sunday we had a blizzard, and today the roads were still awful. I am so bored! I've been outside to walk my dog and to help shovel the driveway, but I really haven't done anything. The good news is that I am making a lot of progress on my current knitting project-- a reversible cable knit scarf. I think I'm going to run out of yarn before I reach the end, however, so I really hope the crafts store carries the brand and color I need. I guess I can always order it online, but that kind of stinks.
Essentially spending the last four days on the couch, I have had a lot of time to think. Specifically, I am thinking about uni. As you've probably realized, I am really anxious about returning. But at the same time I am getting excited. I'm envisioning making my dorm room my own, joining clubs, and attending classes. I've sent out emails to the conductor of the wind ensemble and the organizer of the bowling club to see if I can participate. (The conductor hasn't emailed me back yet, but the organizer of the bowling club did and said that she's having trouble getting the group off the ground because the local bowling alley closed, but that she's looking for someone to help her find a new place. I volunteered.) The classes I am signed up for seem interesting to me with the exception of one that I must take in order to complete my major-- I'll list my schedule when it's finalized.
Basically, I've been thinking that this is my chance to actually live my life. And as I said before, this notion is both anxiety-provoking and exciting. I'm guessing that at times my eating disorder and depression will get in the way, but I am going to do my best to limit their control over me. I am going to do everything I can to make the best of this opportunity.
Essentially spending the last four days on the couch, I have had a lot of time to think. Specifically, I am thinking about uni. As you've probably realized, I am really anxious about returning. But at the same time I am getting excited. I'm envisioning making my dorm room my own, joining clubs, and attending classes. I've sent out emails to the conductor of the wind ensemble and the organizer of the bowling club to see if I can participate. (The conductor hasn't emailed me back yet, but the organizer of the bowling club did and said that she's having trouble getting the group off the ground because the local bowling alley closed, but that she's looking for someone to help her find a new place. I volunteered.) The classes I am signed up for seem interesting to me with the exception of one that I must take in order to complete my major-- I'll list my schedule when it's finalized.
Basically, I've been thinking that this is my chance to actually live my life. And as I said before, this notion is both anxiety-provoking and exciting. I'm guessing that at times my eating disorder and depression will get in the way, but I am going to do my best to limit their control over me. I am going to do everything I can to make the best of this opportunity.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Easy To Leave
Back in middle and high school I had a very close friend-- let's call her #1. We were so close that the summer before my senior year I tagged along with her and her family on their yearly trip to Israel (her father is Israeli and his side of the family still lives there, so every summer they visit them). One day during my senior year she stopped talking to me. I had no idea what I did wrong, so I approached her and said "#1, I can't apologize to you unless I know what I did wrong. So tell me-- what did I do to offend you?" To which she replied "I just have nothing left to say to you anymore."
Fast forward four years. There's a girl, let's call her #2, whom I met in treatment a year ago. We were admitted around the same time and were therefore roommates. We grew really close-- I'd say she was one of my best friends at the facility. After I was discharged we kept in touch via snail mail until I was taken to the hospital in March. I haven't heard from her since then. We are friends on Facebook and I can see that she is active and talking to other girls from treatment, but she doesn't respond to me. I sent her an email saying basically the same thing that I said to #1, and she has not replied. I sent the message in August.
I also met #3 in treatment last year. We weren't terribly close, but after we were discharged we kept in touch, mostly via text messages. Then I was admitted to the hospital and I was unable to contact her in that way (we didn't have access to cell phones, only shared payphones). The other day I wanted to send her a message via Facebook telling her that whenever I hear a certain song-- "I Got A Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas-- on the radio I think of her. When I searched her name I found that she had un-friended me.
I don't get it. I don't know why these people have decided that they don't like me, and I don't understand why they seem to make that decision so easily. I feel so disposable. I never hurt these people, yet for some reason they have hurt me. Someone once told me that girls tend to just dump their female friends for no reason, which I find upsetting. Couple that with the mass exodus of friends that I experienced my senior year after the rape, and it's clear that even the closest relationships are volatile. If there's no reason and people you care about can just toss you aside like yesterday's garbage then there's not much of an incentive to develop relationships. Granted not all of my relationships have turned out this way, it's just really hurtful when they do. I seem to be very easy to leave. What am I doing wrong?
Fast forward four years. There's a girl, let's call her #2, whom I met in treatment a year ago. We were admitted around the same time and were therefore roommates. We grew really close-- I'd say she was one of my best friends at the facility. After I was discharged we kept in touch via snail mail until I was taken to the hospital in March. I haven't heard from her since then. We are friends on Facebook and I can see that she is active and talking to other girls from treatment, but she doesn't respond to me. I sent her an email saying basically the same thing that I said to #1, and she has not replied. I sent the message in August.
I also met #3 in treatment last year. We weren't terribly close, but after we were discharged we kept in touch, mostly via text messages. Then I was admitted to the hospital and I was unable to contact her in that way (we didn't have access to cell phones, only shared payphones). The other day I wanted to send her a message via Facebook telling her that whenever I hear a certain song-- "I Got A Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas-- on the radio I think of her. When I searched her name I found that she had un-friended me.
I don't get it. I don't know why these people have decided that they don't like me, and I don't understand why they seem to make that decision so easily. I feel so disposable. I never hurt these people, yet for some reason they have hurt me. Someone once told me that girls tend to just dump their female friends for no reason, which I find upsetting. Couple that with the mass exodus of friends that I experienced my senior year after the rape, and it's clear that even the closest relationships are volatile. If there's no reason and people you care about can just toss you aside like yesterday's garbage then there's not much of an incentive to develop relationships. Granted not all of my relationships have turned out this way, it's just really hurtful when they do. I seem to be very easy to leave. What am I doing wrong?
Friday, December 24, 2010
Functioning
Today is the first day in a very long time in which I have not gotten dressed in the morning. My mood was on the low side and here was really nothing to do today, so I slept in (yes, I'm finally sleeping!), went running after lunch, and changed right back into my pajamas. I take this as a sign of progress-- this time last year I was spending pretty much every day in my pajamas, unable to get myself out of bed. Although I certainly have bad days and the bad days seem to outnumber the okay days, I'm finding myself functioning better than I ever have.
Even though I'm doing as well as I am right now I'm terrified to go back to uni because I don't know if I'll be able to get through it without decompensating. My freshman year was relatively good, but my sophomore year and the short amount of time I spent at uni last academic year were awful. To be honest, I'm surprised I made it through sophomore year alive, and junior year was days (or maybe even hours) away from killing me when I left (i.e., was forcibly taken to the hospital). But I have to tell myself over and over that I am in better shape now than I have been in years-- even better than my freshman year-- so if uni is going to work, this is going to be it. Of course, that also scares me. What if I can't do it? Then all hope is lost.
Anyway, merry Christmas to my readers who are celebrating tonight/tomorrow. I hope that you all have a lovely holiday. And for those of us not celebrating, enjoy the movies and Chinese food!
Even though I'm doing as well as I am right now I'm terrified to go back to uni because I don't know if I'll be able to get through it without decompensating. My freshman year was relatively good, but my sophomore year and the short amount of time I spent at uni last academic year were awful. To be honest, I'm surprised I made it through sophomore year alive, and junior year was days (or maybe even hours) away from killing me when I left (i.e., was forcibly taken to the hospital). But I have to tell myself over and over that I am in better shape now than I have been in years-- even better than my freshman year-- so if uni is going to work, this is going to be it. Of course, that also scares me. What if I can't do it? Then all hope is lost.
Anyway, merry Christmas to my readers who are celebrating tonight/tomorrow. I hope that you all have a lovely holiday. And for those of us not celebrating, enjoy the movies and Chinese food!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Whose Fault?
I had an interesting conversation with my mom today. We were talking about me moving out when I go to uni in January, and she said "This past semester has been surprisingly good. You've been easy to live with, unlike the past when it was really difficult. But it wasn't your fault. It was your illnesses' faults."
Um. I'm not sure what to make of that. It's kind of a backhanded compliment-- "You're great now, but you used to be awful!" A part of me doesn't want to be easy to live with. I have a lot of anger towards my mom, and for the past nine months I have been stuffing it down, not saying anything so as not to rock the boat and ruin my chances of going to uni. (Because in my mom's mind expressing anger = awful = reason to prevent NOS from going back to school.) I don't want to make her life easy because it essentially amounts to censoring myself. I just have to keep telling myself that I only have to deal with this for another 19-or-so days and then I don't have to pick up the phone when she calls if I don't want to. I'm not going to jeopardize what I have at this point.
Another part of me, however, feels guilty that, according to my mom, I used to be difficult to live with. Believe it or not, I don't like causing trouble and I feel awful about the harm my crazy (literally) shenanigans have caused my family. But is my mom right? Was it my fault? Or was it my "illnesses'" faults? Is there a difference? Am I my illnesses? Well, I know that if I didn't have these illnesses I probably wouldn't have caused the problems that I have-- the emotional and monetary costs of suicide attempts, hospitalizations and erratic behavior among others. But I'm not sure if that relieves me of any culpability; I was the one performing the actions and saying the hurtful things. But then again, if I could have controlled my depression and eating disorder I would have.
I think that AA and other similar organizations would encourage me to take responsibility for my actions, but I'm not sure that's totally fair. But things won't change unless I do.
Um. I'm not sure what to make of that. It's kind of a backhanded compliment-- "You're great now, but you used to be awful!" A part of me doesn't want to be easy to live with. I have a lot of anger towards my mom, and for the past nine months I have been stuffing it down, not saying anything so as not to rock the boat and ruin my chances of going to uni. (Because in my mom's mind expressing anger = awful = reason to prevent NOS from going back to school.) I don't want to make her life easy because it essentially amounts to censoring myself. I just have to keep telling myself that I only have to deal with this for another 19-or-so days and then I don't have to pick up the phone when she calls if I don't want to. I'm not going to jeopardize what I have at this point.
Another part of me, however, feels guilty that, according to my mom, I used to be difficult to live with. Believe it or not, I don't like causing trouble and I feel awful about the harm my crazy (literally) shenanigans have caused my family. But is my mom right? Was it my fault? Or was it my "illnesses'" faults? Is there a difference? Am I my illnesses? Well, I know that if I didn't have these illnesses I probably wouldn't have caused the problems that I have-- the emotional and monetary costs of suicide attempts, hospitalizations and erratic behavior among others. But I'm not sure if that relieves me of any culpability; I was the one performing the actions and saying the hurtful things. But then again, if I could have controlled my depression and eating disorder I would have.
I think that AA and other similar organizations would encourage me to take responsibility for my actions, but I'm not sure that's totally fair. But things won't change unless I do.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
19 Hours Of Panic
Well, yesterday was a big ball of panic. I had a session with D in the early afternoon, and the first thing he asked me was "What happened in your session with Dr. N on Friday?" I told him that I told her about our lack of a safety plan, the desire to have died in March, and how my future upsets me. He told me that Dr. N had called him and left a message that she was "shaken and concerned" after our last session. This is when the panic set in, and, as I tweeted, I wanted to cut myself (I didn't).
The first thing that came to my mind was that I should not have told her the truth-- that I should have just put on a happy face so she wouldn't second guess her decision to endorse my return to uni. I thought to myself "Well, this just adds another name to the list of people I can't turn to." Also, I was angry that she didn't say anything about her concern during our session, and only told D how she was feeling. I'm not the strongest person alive, but I really don't like it when people walk on eggshells around me. I think that's just demeaning and patronizing. D said he would call her back today to see what's going on, and also calm my fear of having uni taken away from me (again).
I couldn't wait that long. Last night I called Dr. N and left her a message saying that I knew she was concerned about our last session, but that I was not suicidal and I was okay and that D and I came up with a safety plan (we did). She returned my call this morning saying that she was just concerned about me not having a therapist at uni in the long-term (like, if I decide to move to the city in which uni is located). I was really relieved because it didn't sound like she was thinking of taking uni away from me at all. But, my goodness, those 19 hours of uncertainty were certainly killers.
The first thing that came to my mind was that I should not have told her the truth-- that I should have just put on a happy face so she wouldn't second guess her decision to endorse my return to uni. I thought to myself "Well, this just adds another name to the list of people I can't turn to." Also, I was angry that she didn't say anything about her concern during our session, and only told D how she was feeling. I'm not the strongest person alive, but I really don't like it when people walk on eggshells around me. I think that's just demeaning and patronizing. D said he would call her back today to see what's going on, and also calm my fear of having uni taken away from me (again).
I couldn't wait that long. Last night I called Dr. N and left her a message saying that I knew she was concerned about our last session, but that I was not suicidal and I was okay and that D and I came up with a safety plan (we did). She returned my call this morning saying that she was just concerned about me not having a therapist at uni in the long-term (like, if I decide to move to the city in which uni is located). I was really relieved because it didn't sound like she was thinking of taking uni away from me at all. But, my goodness, those 19 hours of uncertainty were certainly killers.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Busy Week Ahead
It looks like I have a busy week ahead of me. Tomorrow I have a session with D, and then I'm meeting up with AB, and at night I'm hanging out with S. That may not sound like a lot, but that's going to be really intense for me, especially because I've been tired recently because I've only been getting three hours of sleep each night (and tonight I'm waking up in the middle of the night to see the lunar eclipse). Then on Wednesday I'm taking a train to uni to renew my ID card and meet with my advisor. On Thursday I am meeting two girls from my group at a movie theater to see Black Swan. Friday is free, and then on Saturday I'm going to go see Love and Other Drugs with SB, one of the aforementioned girls from group.
Not to mention I've been worrying about the logistical details about returning to uni in three and a half weeks. I still haven't received a housing assignment, and that's causing some anxiety. D wrote a letter to the head of the housing department on my behalf, telling him about some accommodations that would be helpful for me, such as having a kitchen, a single room in a suite, and at least one suitemate. I think uni closes at the end of the day on Wednesday, so I really hope I have an assignment by then. I want to be able to get excited about decorating my space and figure out what I'm going to bring.
I know I was going to write about something else, but I am so tired I'm unable to construct proper sentences. Signing out. Be well all.
Not to mention I've been worrying about the logistical details about returning to uni in three and a half weeks. I still haven't received a housing assignment, and that's causing some anxiety. D wrote a letter to the head of the housing department on my behalf, telling him about some accommodations that would be helpful for me, such as having a kitchen, a single room in a suite, and at least one suitemate. I think uni closes at the end of the day on Wednesday, so I really hope I have an assignment by then. I want to be able to get excited about decorating my space and figure out what I'm going to bring.
I know I was going to write about something else, but I am so tired I'm unable to construct proper sentences. Signing out. Be well all.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
No One To Turn To
During my appointment with Dr. N on Friday, she asked me if I had a plan for what to do in case I begin feeling severely depressed and suicidal. I told her that I didn't, and she suggested that I work on that issue with D. I told her that I know what the "correct" plan is-- to call D-- but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm going to follow it.
You see, at this point in my life I have been burned so many times that I don't trust anyone. D could call the uni counseling center or the Vice Provost (the woman who manages people in crisis-- she met with me my freshman year after I was hospitalized for a week, and she came to the intervention last March). My parents could refuse to pay for schooling, call uni, or stage another intervention. And, given my experience with my sisters in March, I can't tell them if I'm struggling because that information is promptly forwarded to my parents. I can't even trust SH-- I once told her I was having a hard time and she called the Vice Provost, who then called to ask me to check in with her the next day but forgot-- so friends are off limits too.
I know that these people have taken such action because they care about me and are concerned about my well-being. But in my head, these people are trying to take control away from me, and I do not like it. Maybe these people know what's best for me when I'm severely depressed and suicidal because my judgment is supposedly compromised, but I think the definition of "best" depends on where you're coming from. For others, "best" means being alive. For me, sometimes "best" means being dead. I don't want people to take my means away from me.
So basically what this means for me is that I have no one to turn to for support if I'm near suicide. Except you guys. And I am grateful for that.
You see, at this point in my life I have been burned so many times that I don't trust anyone. D could call the uni counseling center or the Vice Provost (the woman who manages people in crisis-- she met with me my freshman year after I was hospitalized for a week, and she came to the intervention last March). My parents could refuse to pay for schooling, call uni, or stage another intervention. And, given my experience with my sisters in March, I can't tell them if I'm struggling because that information is promptly forwarded to my parents. I can't even trust SH-- I once told her I was having a hard time and she called the Vice Provost, who then called to ask me to check in with her the next day but forgot-- so friends are off limits too.
I know that these people have taken such action because they care about me and are concerned about my well-being. But in my head, these people are trying to take control away from me, and I do not like it. Maybe these people know what's best for me when I'm severely depressed and suicidal because my judgment is supposedly compromised, but I think the definition of "best" depends on where you're coming from. For others, "best" means being alive. For me, sometimes "best" means being dead. I don't want people to take my means away from me.
So basically what this means for me is that I have no one to turn to for support if I'm near suicide. Except you guys. And I am grateful for that.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Wise Words From M
On Thursday after I got the news about uni I immediately emailed my sisters. M, my oldest sister, happened to be online and we started to talk on gchat. She had some very wise things to say, so I thought I'd share it with you.
She's right. The most important thing in life is happiness, because I have learned without happiness you really don't have anything. I remember two years ago I sent a postcard to PostSecret with a picture of all the pills I had hoarded on the front and the following message on the back: "I have succeeded at everything I have ever tried... except suicide... four times." And it's (for the most part) true. I've been depressed since I was eight, and ever since then I have been trying to fix my problems by achieving things, and, clearly, it hasn't worked.
I want to be happy, but I don't know if that's possible. But having been granted permission to return from medical leave, I have been given a shot at maybe being less depressed. And I'm going to do everything I can not to waste it.
M: Congrats!
NOS: :) !
M: That's great! I hope you're happy at [uni].
NOS: Me too. I'm going to bust my ass to try and be happy.
M: Ha. Well, I would just say this to you: The most important thing in life is happiness and doing what's in your best interest as a person, not what looks good on a resume. And I say this as someone who went to [insert name of very prestigious university here] and [insert name of very prestigious law firm] for prestige reasons despite the fact that my gut told me I'd be happier elsewhere. And I paid the price of being miserable. And it was only after I realized that being a prestige whore only brought me a nice resume but a miserable life that I decided to be true to myself and my gut and go where I'd be happiest, even if that meant it was less prestigious... In sum, I hope you're happy at [uni]. I really do. I mean that. But if you find it to be miserable (and I hope you won't), I hope you have the courage to recognize that for what it is.
She's right. The most important thing in life is happiness, because I have learned without happiness you really don't have anything. I remember two years ago I sent a postcard to PostSecret with a picture of all the pills I had hoarded on the front and the following message on the back: "I have succeeded at everything I have ever tried... except suicide... four times." And it's (for the most part) true. I've been depressed since I was eight, and ever since then I have been trying to fix my problems by achieving things, and, clearly, it hasn't worked.
I want to be happy, but I don't know if that's possible. But having been granted permission to return from medical leave, I have been given a shot at maybe being less depressed. And I'm going to do everything I can not to waste it.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Hit By A Train
I always seem to come out of my sessions with Dr. N, my new psychiatrist, feeling like I've been hit by a train.
Things started out innocent enough, talking about uni and what I am doing to prepare, but then we started talking about my future and I completely fell apart. We talked about what I want to do when I grow up, and she said that if I wanted to be a doctor I would have to get a post-baccalaureate degree after college because I'm currently pursuing a psychology, not pre-med, degree. I told her that if things are the way they are now in 1.5 years that there's no way I can get a pre-med degree, an MD, nor can I attend grad school for psychology (another option I am considering). I told her that I feel like my depression and eating disorder cripple me-- I can barely function at an undergraduate level, how could I possibly function in med or grad school?
Then she asked me what I want out of life and it was difficult to come up with an answer. We talked about my crash in March and how if my family hadn't staged an intervention and if I hadn't gotten the proper treatment for an electrolyte imbalance related to my eating disorder that I would have died that week, either by my own hand or because of a heart attack. I said I would have been okay with that. I told her that from that experience I learned never to tell anyone that I'm struggling because they will just take things away from me, including my ability to kill myself.
Living is just too damn hard. Even when my mood is at its highest and my eating is regular I still feel like crap. My best is still "below average." So is it worth it to stick around if all I am going to feel is bad? And I know you'll probably say that things can change, but I'm not so sure if that's true for me. I have two wretched diseases, and they're not going away.
Things started out innocent enough, talking about uni and what I am doing to prepare, but then we started talking about my future and I completely fell apart. We talked about what I want to do when I grow up, and she said that if I wanted to be a doctor I would have to get a post-baccalaureate degree after college because I'm currently pursuing a psychology, not pre-med, degree. I told her that if things are the way they are now in 1.5 years that there's no way I can get a pre-med degree, an MD, nor can I attend grad school for psychology (another option I am considering). I told her that I feel like my depression and eating disorder cripple me-- I can barely function at an undergraduate level, how could I possibly function in med or grad school?
Then she asked me what I want out of life and it was difficult to come up with an answer. We talked about my crash in March and how if my family hadn't staged an intervention and if I hadn't gotten the proper treatment for an electrolyte imbalance related to my eating disorder that I would have died that week, either by my own hand or because of a heart attack. I said I would have been okay with that. I told her that from that experience I learned never to tell anyone that I'm struggling because they will just take things away from me, including my ability to kill myself.
Living is just too damn hard. Even when my mood is at its highest and my eating is regular I still feel like crap. My best is still "below average." So is it worth it to stick around if all I am going to feel is bad? And I know you'll probably say that things can change, but I'm not so sure if that's true for me. I have two wretched diseases, and they're not going away.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Finally!
Well, yesterday was my last final for the semester, and I think it went well. There was a ton of writing to do-- seven essays and seven short answer questions. And by "essays" I mean real, legitimate, five-paragraph essays that took 1.5-2 pages to write. And by "short answer questions" I mean paragraphs. So I ended up writing fifteen pages in 2.5 hours, and by the end my hand was on the brink of falling off. But I'm done!
[Aside: One of these days, I'm going to devote a post to discussing the movies I saw this year in my German Film class. I really loved the course, and I'd like to share some of its awesomeness with you. So stay tuned.]
Last night I ended up going out to coffee with my friend HK and I had a pretty good time. There were a few awkward silences (he's a rocket scientist, literally, so his social skills do leave something to be desired), but most of the time we had a decent conversation going. I have a sneaking suspicion, however, that he likes me in a romantic way. We had planned just to have coffee, but he kept on saying "We should go watch Hercules right after this." (For some reason he thinks Hercules sucks, but I informed him that his opinion is wrong.) And then when we were going home he said he wanted to watch it another time, and I said "Maybe." I feel like I get roped into doing things with people that I don't really want to spend so much time with-- remember two weeks ago? I have a really big problem saying no.
Now onto the main attraction. I got an email today from my uni advisor telling me that I WAS GRANTED PERMISSION TO RETURN TO UNI IN JANUARY! I am so happy! I am so happy that I don't have to live at home anymore, that I don't have to take classes at the local college (although it was nice, it just wasn't my type), that I can work towards graduation, and that I can maybe have a life. Now it's just a crunch trying to get dorm housing and to find courses that are open to register for. But those are details; I am trying to focus on the big picture, which is that I'M GOING BACK TO UNI.
And, as per my promise to the Universe, today I donated $50 to the World Wildlife Fund-- specifically to help save sea turtles. I know times are tight (at least here in America) and that it's the holiday season, but it's a really good charity if you're looking to donate somewhere.
I'M GOING BACK TO UNI!
[Aside: One of these days, I'm going to devote a post to discussing the movies I saw this year in my German Film class. I really loved the course, and I'd like to share some of its awesomeness with you. So stay tuned.]
Last night I ended up going out to coffee with my friend HK and I had a pretty good time. There were a few awkward silences (he's a rocket scientist, literally, so his social skills do leave something to be desired), but most of the time we had a decent conversation going. I have a sneaking suspicion, however, that he likes me in a romantic way. We had planned just to have coffee, but he kept on saying "We should go watch Hercules right after this." (For some reason he thinks Hercules sucks, but I informed him that his opinion is wrong.) And then when we were going home he said he wanted to watch it another time, and I said "Maybe." I feel like I get roped into doing things with people that I don't really want to spend so much time with-- remember two weeks ago? I have a really big problem saying no.
Now onto the main attraction. I got an email today from my uni advisor telling me that I WAS GRANTED PERMISSION TO RETURN TO UNI IN JANUARY! I am so happy! I am so happy that I don't have to live at home anymore, that I don't have to take classes at the local college (although it was nice, it just wasn't my type), that I can work towards graduation, and that I can maybe have a life. Now it's just a crunch trying to get dorm housing and to find courses that are open to register for. But those are details; I am trying to focus on the big picture, which is that I'M GOING BACK TO UNI.
And, as per my promise to the Universe, today I donated $50 to the World Wildlife Fund-- specifically to help save sea turtles. I know times are tight (at least here in America) and that it's the holiday season, but it's a really good charity if you're looking to donate somewhere.
I'M GOING BACK TO UNI!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
High Anxiety
Remember a while ago when I drank too much caffeine and didn't eat enough food and I felt physically ill? Well, I'm feeling like that today, except I haven't had any caffeine and I've been following my meal plan. Specifically, I feel like my heart has been racing, I've been shaking, and my anxiety level has been out of control. I think this is happening because I have my German Film final tomorrow, and I'm also waiting to hear back from uni about whether I can go back in January.
Actually, I emailed my uni advisor yesterday and asked her whether it would be possible to get at least a provisional response about my return from leave sometime this week because if I'm approved to return I need to start making housing arrangements and schedule my classes, and if I'm not approved then I have to come up with alternate plans. Right now I have no idea what I will be doing in January, and that is really, really anxiety provoking. She hasn't emailed me back yet, and that is also making me anxious. I am NOT good with uncertainty. Not good at all.
Actually, I emailed my uni advisor yesterday and asked her whether it would be possible to get at least a provisional response about my return from leave sometime this week because if I'm approved to return I need to start making housing arrangements and schedule my classes, and if I'm not approved then I have to come up with alternate plans. Right now I have no idea what I will be doing in January, and that is really, really anxiety provoking. She hasn't emailed me back yet, and that is also making me anxious. I am NOT good with uncertainty. Not good at all.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Acting On Anger
Today I was walking my dog, and started to get angry. I started to get angry with D about the issue I talked about yesterday, and I started to get angry at Shrinkiepoo (for you newcomers, Shrinkiepoo is my former psychiatrist). I don't know why these things came up on a simple walk, but I suddenly felt the urge to express myself. I'll probably go off on D tomorrow; I know the anger is mostly misplaced, but I really don't get a chance to express myself anywhere else.
And I was thinking of writing Shrinkiepoo a letter expressing how much he hurt me by forcing me to do things that I didn't want to do. I want him to know that he has severely damaged my ability to trust psychiatrists. I don't know if this is a good idea or not-- should I let bygones be bygones and just never have contact with him again, or should I write a fuming letter that will probably have no effect on him? I probably won't end up doing it because I tend to avoid confrontation, but I am SO ANGRY. What do you think I should do? Would you write a letter?
In other news, I learned today by reading her Facebook status that my friend KS is visiting the area for Christmas and New Years. In her status she listed a bunch of people in the area that she is looking forward to seeing, and I was not one of them. This makes me sad. We used to be best friends in high school and since then we have slowly been drifting apart-- I haven't had any contact with her since her birthday which was in October. It's really hurtful when people leave my life. It just adds to the emptiness and depression I constantly experience.
And I was thinking of writing Shrinkiepoo a letter expressing how much he hurt me by forcing me to do things that I didn't want to do. I want him to know that he has severely damaged my ability to trust psychiatrists. I don't know if this is a good idea or not-- should I let bygones be bygones and just never have contact with him again, or should I write a fuming letter that will probably have no effect on him? I probably won't end up doing it because I tend to avoid confrontation, but I am SO ANGRY. What do you think I should do? Would you write a letter?
In other news, I learned today by reading her Facebook status that my friend KS is visiting the area for Christmas and New Years. In her status she listed a bunch of people in the area that she is looking forward to seeing, and I was not one of them. This makes me sad. We used to be best friends in high school and since then we have slowly been drifting apart-- I haven't had any contact with her since her birthday which was in October. It's really hurtful when people leave my life. It just adds to the emptiness and depression I constantly experience.
Sugar Daddy
Sugar Daddy, Hedwig and the Angry Inch
[This song really has nothing to do with anything pertinent, but I've been listening to it on repeat and singing it over and over again in the shower so I thought I'd share it with you. The clip from the movie can be seen here, but it uses an abridged version of the song. That being said, the clip is hilarious and I would definitely recommend you watch it. Hedwig and the Angry Inch is my favorite movie. I would also recommend you watch it.]
I've got a sweet tooth
For licorice drops and jelly rolls
Hey Sugar Daddy
Hansel needs some sugar in his bowl
I'll lay out fine china on the linen and polish up the chrome
If you've got some sugar for me
Sugar Daddy bring it home
Black strap molasses
You're my orange blossom honey bear
Bring me Versace blue jeans and black designer underwear
We'll dress up like a disco dancing
Jet set in Milan and Rome
If you've got some sugar for me
Sugar Daddy bring it home
Oh the thrill of control
Like the rush of rock and roll
It's the sweetest taste I've known
If you've got some sugar bring it home
When honey bees go shopping
It's something to be seen
They swarm to wild flowers
And get nectar for the queen
Everything you bring me got me dripping like a honey comb
If you've got some sugar for me
Sugar Daddy bring it home
Oh the thrill of control
Like the Blitzkrieg on the roll
It's the sweetest taste I've known
If you've got some sugar bring it home
Come on Sugar Daddy bring it home
Whiskey and French cigarettes
A motorbike with high-speed jets
A waterpik, a Cuisinart
And a hypoallergenic dog
Oh I want all the luxuries of the modern age
Every item on every page
In the Lillian Vernon catalogue
So you think only a woman can truly love a man
Well you buy me the dress
I'll be more woman than a man like you can stand
If you've got some sugar for me
Sugar Daddy bring it home
It's our tradition to control
Like Erich Honecker and Helmut Kohl
From the Ukraine to the Rhone
Sweet home uber alles
Lord I'm coming home
Come on Sugar Daddy bring me home
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Pleasing Others
If the last week and a half is any indication, I may never sleep again. These past several nights I have been falling asleep pretty well, but then I wake up two hours later and I can't fall asleep again. Things got really bad the night before my Ecological Anthropology final when I literally did not sleep a wink. Ever since then I have had the opportunity to sleep in (because I have had no engagements until midday if at all) but I physically haven't been able to. And I don't take naps because a) I need to be heavily medicated to even entertain the possibility of sleeping, and b) I know if I sleep during the day then there will be no hope for me sleeping at night. I think my meds may need adjusting-- I have been on the same cocktail since last February, and maybe it has run its course.
Yesterday I went to my group, and I must say that I am getting very tired of it. To be honest, I don't really want to go anymore. I feel like all D does is bring up things that we've already talked about in individual therapy, so it's all repetitive. And he also puts me/people on the spot in terms of feedback. If someone is sharing something he'll turn to someone and say "X, what do you think about this?" In my opinion, if someone had something to say they would say it-- they don't need someone to put deliberate pressure on them. Whenever he does that to me I feel like I have to make something good up so I sound engaged when I'm really just bored. It's the same thing every week. I think I'm going to bring this up in therapy on Tuesday, but I doubt that D will say that it would be okay for me not to go anymore.
Actually, this is a pervading theme recently: I am doing things just to please others. For example, my dietitian? She's completely worthless. Firstly, I pay for an hour session but she only allots 45 minutes. And we talk about food-related things for about 7 of those 45 minutes; the rest of the time we talk about theatre. I told D about this and he said that if I go to uni in January that he won't make me see her anymore. But it's just frustrating to feel like I everything I do is to give others peace of mind. Shouldn't my welfare be made a priority instead?
Yesterday I went to my group, and I must say that I am getting very tired of it. To be honest, I don't really want to go anymore. I feel like all D does is bring up things that we've already talked about in individual therapy, so it's all repetitive. And he also puts me/people on the spot in terms of feedback. If someone is sharing something he'll turn to someone and say "X, what do you think about this?" In my opinion, if someone had something to say they would say it-- they don't need someone to put deliberate pressure on them. Whenever he does that to me I feel like I have to make something good up so I sound engaged when I'm really just bored. It's the same thing every week. I think I'm going to bring this up in therapy on Tuesday, but I doubt that D will say that it would be okay for me not to go anymore.
Actually, this is a pervading theme recently: I am doing things just to please others. For example, my dietitian? She's completely worthless. Firstly, I pay for an hour session but she only allots 45 minutes. And we talk about food-related things for about 7 of those 45 minutes; the rest of the time we talk about theatre. I told D about this and he said that if I go to uni in January that he won't make me see her anymore. But it's just frustrating to feel like I everything I do is to give others peace of mind. Shouldn't my welfare be made a priority instead?
Friday, December 10, 2010
Friends And Finals
Well, today was my Ecological Anthropology final. It went okay-- it was all essay questions and I know I didn't write any false information, but I'm anxious about whether I wrote enough. Well, it's not that big of a deal anyway. I have a 101 average in that class right now and even if I get a B on the exam I'll likely still get an A in the class. And if I don't get an A it doesn't matter because the grade doesn't count towards my GPA at uni. I'm trying to adopt this attitude when thinking about my German Film final next Wednesday, but I'm still pretty nervous. There's a lot of history to memorize, and the professor is a stickler about dates (dates are the worst!). But I spent today consolidating my notes so I now have four whole days to learn the information. If I study for three hours a day, that's twelve hours (plus all the work I've already put into it this week). Must remain calm, NOS. Must remain calm.
On a completely different note, I'm worried about my friend SH. She has told me that her mood is worse than it has ever been. I asked her whether she thought she should go to the hospital and she said "I don't think so," but I'm not so sure. She says that therapy isn't helping her because she only tells her therapist what she thinks the therapist wants to hear-- essentially that things are going a lot better than they are in reality. And now she's thinking of quitting therapy all together. I feel like she is really starting to backslide and I'm afraid that she'll either hurt herself or wind up back in treatment (although I would much prefer she go to treatment than hurt herself). I don't have many friends and SH means a lot to me. It's hard to see her struggle.
In the relatively good news department, I have been talking with my friend DD that I met in the hospital in March. I absolutely love talking to her because she is smart, funny, and because she also has an eating disorder and depression she gets me. We are also in similar situations in terms of uni, so it's nice to find some company there. We are hoping to meet up when my finals are over and that sounds amazing to me, but it also kind of makes me nervous. Will she be judging what I eat? Will I trigger her? I don't want to cause trouble or damage our friendship. But it would really be nice to see her again. I miss her, and I miss having contact with people I care about. I'm lonely.
On a completely different note, I'm worried about my friend SH. She has told me that her mood is worse than it has ever been. I asked her whether she thought she should go to the hospital and she said "I don't think so," but I'm not so sure. She says that therapy isn't helping her because she only tells her therapist what she thinks the therapist wants to hear-- essentially that things are going a lot better than they are in reality. And now she's thinking of quitting therapy all together. I feel like she is really starting to backslide and I'm afraid that she'll either hurt herself or wind up back in treatment (although I would much prefer she go to treatment than hurt herself). I don't have many friends and SH means a lot to me. It's hard to see her struggle.
In the relatively good news department, I have been talking with my friend DD that I met in the hospital in March. I absolutely love talking to her because she is smart, funny, and because she also has an eating disorder and depression she gets me. We are also in similar situations in terms of uni, so it's nice to find some company there. We are hoping to meet up when my finals are over and that sounds amazing to me, but it also kind of makes me nervous. Will she be judging what I eat? Will I trigger her? I don't want to cause trouble or damage our friendship. But it would really be nice to see her again. I miss her, and I miss having contact with people I care about. I'm lonely.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Finals Begin
One of my biggest problems at uni was that I spent too much time studying. I would literally only leave my apartment if I had class or work, and the rest of the time I spent in my apartment studying and constantly doing school work. It was clearly excessive, but I felt like it was never enough; in order to calm my anxiety about grades and my appease my perfectionism I would study until I had the textbook memorized (really) and then I would read it again.
This pattern greatly contributed to my depression. Firstly, having no social contact for days at a time is not conducive to good mental health. Secondly, I felt like I couldn't get a break. I would spend 4-8 hours a day in class or at work, and then I would spend the rest of the 16-20 hours doing work. It was never-ending and it was driving me crazy. Oh, and because I was constantly working I never took the time to actually eat.
D and I really want to break this pattern so when I go back to uni I'm not setting myself up for failure. The classes I have been taking this semester have kind of been a test-run. I have my first final tomorrow (Ecological Anthropology), so last Friday D gave me a time limit for studying, and asked me to record what I did. So I made myself a sort of time card that I used to "punch in" and "punch out." I haven't gone over the limit, and I'm feeling pretty good about my preparedness. This is good!
I am anxious about my German Film final (which is next Wednesday). I've started to do some preparation, but I will seriously need to buckle down as soon as my Anthropology final is over. The test is going to consist of SEVEN essays plus TEN short answer questions. Wow. We have three hours to complete the exam so time isn't that big of a deal, but it's going to be hard to come up with enough material to use in the essays. I've been reviewing the movie plots and what we discussed in class (I take very good notes), but I'm not confident yet. I made myself a time card for this class too, so hopefully when Wednesday comes along I will be prepared, but not over-prepared. I'm anxious, but I have to tell myself over and over again, "I have time. I have worked hard all semester. I'll be okay."
This pattern greatly contributed to my depression. Firstly, having no social contact for days at a time is not conducive to good mental health. Secondly, I felt like I couldn't get a break. I would spend 4-8 hours a day in class or at work, and then I would spend the rest of the 16-20 hours doing work. It was never-ending and it was driving me crazy. Oh, and because I was constantly working I never took the time to actually eat.
D and I really want to break this pattern so when I go back to uni I'm not setting myself up for failure. The classes I have been taking this semester have kind of been a test-run. I have my first final tomorrow (Ecological Anthropology), so last Friday D gave me a time limit for studying, and asked me to record what I did. So I made myself a sort of time card that I used to "punch in" and "punch out." I haven't gone over the limit, and I'm feeling pretty good about my preparedness. This is good!
I am anxious about my German Film final (which is next Wednesday). I've started to do some preparation, but I will seriously need to buckle down as soon as my Anthropology final is over. The test is going to consist of SEVEN essays plus TEN short answer questions. Wow. We have three hours to complete the exam so time isn't that big of a deal, but it's going to be hard to come up with enough material to use in the essays. I've been reviewing the movie plots and what we discussed in class (I take very good notes), but I'm not confident yet. I made myself a time card for this class too, so hopefully when Wednesday comes along I will be prepared, but not over-prepared. I'm anxious, but I have to tell myself over and over again, "I have time. I have worked hard all semester. I'll be okay."
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Dealing With Uncertainty
I have been panicking recently about uni. I have applied to return from leave and I'm terrified that they'll say that I can't return for another semester. My treatment team is in contact with the various offices-- Counseling and Psychological Services, the College, and Student Health. They have all either told me or have hinted that they are advocating for my return, but I'm still scared.
I think the underlying issue is that I have no control over this situation. Well, that's not entirely true; I have had control over how much I've worked on myself during the past nine months, but the final decision is out of my hands. And when I lose control or become anxious I become even more controlling and need reassurance that nothing bad will happen, and I'm not getting that in this situation. I want a guarantee, and I can't have one. Dealing with uncertainty has never been my forte. So my anxiety remains high, and will remain high until they tell me their decision.
I honestly don't know what I would do if they didn't allow me to return in January. Firstly, I have yet to make complete peace with the fact that I will be graduating a year late, May 2012, and if that date were to be pushed back to December 2012 I don't know if I could handle it. Second, I really don't want to take more courses at the college I'm attending now. I have mostly had a positive experience with it, but it's not my school and it's not a kind of school I want to attend long-term. (For example, it's located in a very suburban area, whereas uni is in the middle of a big city and I prefer that.) But most of all, I can't live another ten months with my parents. I can't. I won't.
Universe, I am asking you a favor. Please get uni to accept me back for next semester. I promise that if they do I will pay it forward and do something to make the world a better place, like donate to the World Wildlife Fund. Please.
I think the underlying issue is that I have no control over this situation. Well, that's not entirely true; I have had control over how much I've worked on myself during the past nine months, but the final decision is out of my hands. And when I lose control or become anxious I become even more controlling and need reassurance that nothing bad will happen, and I'm not getting that in this situation. I want a guarantee, and I can't have one. Dealing with uncertainty has never been my forte. So my anxiety remains high, and will remain high until they tell me their decision.
I honestly don't know what I would do if they didn't allow me to return in January. Firstly, I have yet to make complete peace with the fact that I will be graduating a year late, May 2012, and if that date were to be pushed back to December 2012 I don't know if I could handle it. Second, I really don't want to take more courses at the college I'm attending now. I have mostly had a positive experience with it, but it's not my school and it's not a kind of school I want to attend long-term. (For example, it's located in a very suburban area, whereas uni is in the middle of a big city and I prefer that.) But most of all, I can't live another ten months with my parents. I can't. I won't.
Universe, I am asking you a favor. Please get uni to accept me back for next semester. I promise that if they do I will pay it forward and do something to make the world a better place, like donate to the World Wildlife Fund. Please.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Revisiting My Story
Today was a little better than the last two days in terms of feeling depressed, but still not fantastic. I tried to do everything I could to distract myself-- as soon as I woke up I buckled right down and started studying. I studied the whole morning and early afternoon until I had an appointment with D and unfortunately had to confront my feelings.
The session was a little frustrating. I started by telling him about how crappy I have been feeling and for some reason he kind of took the conversation in a different direction, so when I left I kind of felt unfulfilled. You know what I mean? I just feel like I didn't get what I wanted out of our time together. It's very frustrating.
One of the things that D brought up was the fact that when our group starts talking about sexual assault I don't share my story. So then we got to talking about what happened when I was seventeen. (As an aside: I'm not sure if D knows about what happened when I was eighteen, or if he just forgot. But he always brings up the first assault and never the second.) I told him that the actual incident doesn't really upset me anymore, but the abandonment I experienced afterwords still stings badly. I had been relatively popular in middle school and high school until that one day in my senior year when everyone found out what they thought happened and deemed me a backstabbing slut and left. I think this abandonment would hurt anyone, but for someone with issues like mine it hurt on a whole different level. After that, my eating went to shit and five months later I was in the hospital.
I told D that I'm still not sure if what happened was my fault or not. Maybe I wanted it? I don't know. But I guess perseverating on something for a long time will get you to question every detail.
Suicide still looks good.
The session was a little frustrating. I started by telling him about how crappy I have been feeling and for some reason he kind of took the conversation in a different direction, so when I left I kind of felt unfulfilled. You know what I mean? I just feel like I didn't get what I wanted out of our time together. It's very frustrating.
One of the things that D brought up was the fact that when our group starts talking about sexual assault I don't share my story. So then we got to talking about what happened when I was seventeen. (As an aside: I'm not sure if D knows about what happened when I was eighteen, or if he just forgot. But he always brings up the first assault and never the second.) I told him that the actual incident doesn't really upset me anymore, but the abandonment I experienced afterwords still stings badly. I had been relatively popular in middle school and high school until that one day in my senior year when everyone found out what they thought happened and deemed me a backstabbing slut and left. I think this abandonment would hurt anyone, but for someone with issues like mine it hurt on a whole different level. After that, my eating went to shit and five months later I was in the hospital.
I told D that I'm still not sure if what happened was my fault or not. Maybe I wanted it? I don't know. But I guess perseverating on something for a long time will get you to question every detail.
Suicide still looks good.
Monday, December 6, 2010
When It Rains
I wasn't able to post yesterday because I was too depressed to get myself to the computer and reflect on my day. It took a lot to motivate myself to write today. I don't know what's going on. All of a sudden my depression increased ten-fold. Sure, it's always been there, but recently my eating disorder has taken most of the spotlight. But these past two days have been awful.
It seems like I just woke up yesterday and all of the serotonin in my brain had suddenly been depleted. I was on the brink of or in tears all day. I think I attracted a few odd looks when I was bawling in the middle of the public library.
I couldn't and can't stop thinking about death. Mine, my grandpa's, my dog's. On the various car rides that I have taken in the past two days I have plotted my suicide. It's been cold here and I have been wearing a scarf, and I kept picturing myself using it to hang myself. Or a belt. Then I thought about the collection of pills I have stashed away and whether I should be adding to my collection and/or taking it.
I have finals to study for (today was the last day of classes-- finals begin at the end of this week and go until the middle of next week) and I'm afraid that I won't be able to concentrate. Come to think of it, my finals are probably the reasons why I'm feeling so depressed. I tend to decompensate under stress, which is why when I was at uni I was severely suicidal-- it seemed like I had exams, quizzes, and papers due every week, and I just couldn't handle it. The problem is that I don't know how to keep myself from falling apart.
Apparently, when it rains it pours.
It seems like I just woke up yesterday and all of the serotonin in my brain had suddenly been depleted. I was on the brink of or in tears all day. I think I attracted a few odd looks when I was bawling in the middle of the public library.
I couldn't and can't stop thinking about death. Mine, my grandpa's, my dog's. On the various car rides that I have taken in the past two days I have plotted my suicide. It's been cold here and I have been wearing a scarf, and I kept picturing myself using it to hang myself. Or a belt. Then I thought about the collection of pills I have stashed away and whether I should be adding to my collection and/or taking it.
I have finals to study for (today was the last day of classes-- finals begin at the end of this week and go until the middle of next week) and I'm afraid that I won't be able to concentrate. Come to think of it, my finals are probably the reasons why I'm feeling so depressed. I tend to decompensate under stress, which is why when I was at uni I was severely suicidal-- it seemed like I had exams, quizzes, and papers due every week, and I just couldn't handle it. The problem is that I don't know how to keep myself from falling apart.
Apparently, when it rains it pours.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
D's Use Of Labels
Yesterday I had a therapy session with D. And because I was in a pissy mood, when he asked "How are you?" I replied with "I'd like to air some grievances." He was open to hearing them, as I knew he would be, and things turned out okay.
One of the grievances I had was D's inappropriate use of labels. I remember a long time ago, in June, a boy in my eating disorder group who is diagnosed with bulimia said that in order not to binge and purge one day he decided to eat less. D said "It sounds like you are using anorexic behaviors." Then last Tuesday he told me that a girl in the group who is also diagnosed with bulimia was also using "anorexic behaviors" recently.
I know he means "restricting" when he says "anorexic behaviors," but they are not one in the same. A person with bulimia can restrict and still be bulimic, and an anorexic person can binge and purge and still be anorexic. (Here are the diagnostic criteria. Notice the subtypes.)
Okay. This might not make sense to you, but I'm offended by his whimsical use of these diagnostic labels. It makes me feel like he's saying that anyone can have an eating disorder if they display one symptom. I suffered a lot to earn the diagnosis of anorexia, and I don't think it is fair to compare one day of eating less to years of starvation. Nor would I think it would be fair for me to call myself bulimic because I've made myself throw up a few times in my life and used to abuse laxatives. And eating disorders don't waver on a daily basis-- you can't be anorexic one day, bulimic the next, and then back to anorexic again (although I recognize that eating disorders can morph from one type to another over a long period of time). I feel like D's use of the word "anorexic" minimizes everything I've gone through.
He kind of gave a crappy apology: "I'm sorry you felt offended..." But he also said that he would be more conscientious about his language.
Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion, but his behavior honestly bothered me and my bad mood prompted me to express that. I think I did the right thing.
One of the grievances I had was D's inappropriate use of labels. I remember a long time ago, in June, a boy in my eating disorder group who is diagnosed with bulimia said that in order not to binge and purge one day he decided to eat less. D said "It sounds like you are using anorexic behaviors." Then last Tuesday he told me that a girl in the group who is also diagnosed with bulimia was also using "anorexic behaviors" recently.
I know he means "restricting" when he says "anorexic behaviors," but they are not one in the same. A person with bulimia can restrict and still be bulimic, and an anorexic person can binge and purge and still be anorexic. (Here are the diagnostic criteria. Notice the subtypes.)
Okay. This might not make sense to you, but I'm offended by his whimsical use of these diagnostic labels. It makes me feel like he's saying that anyone can have an eating disorder if they display one symptom. I suffered a lot to earn the diagnosis of anorexia, and I don't think it is fair to compare one day of eating less to years of starvation. Nor would I think it would be fair for me to call myself bulimic because I've made myself throw up a few times in my life and used to abuse laxatives. And eating disorders don't waver on a daily basis-- you can't be anorexic one day, bulimic the next, and then back to anorexic again (although I recognize that eating disorders can morph from one type to another over a long period of time). I feel like D's use of the word "anorexic" minimizes everything I've gone through.
He kind of gave a crappy apology: "I'm sorry you felt offended..." But he also said that he would be more conscientious about his language.
Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion, but his behavior honestly bothered me and my bad mood prompted me to express that. I think I did the right thing.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Rotten
I have been in a pissy mood today. It's probably due to the fact that I drank a cup of coffee in the morning and didn't eat breakfast and lunch, so my heart was racing, I was shaking, I was anxious, and I felt like I was going to die. (And the crazy thing is I knew the cure to all of this was eating a reasonable meal or snack, but I chose not to.) But also I am just sick of living with my parents. Today when they came home from their activities they interrupted my studying (they knew I was studying) to ask me inane questions that did not need to be asked at that time or even at all. I gave them one word answers.
After dinner, I went into the den and began chatting with someone on the internet. My dad came in, sat on the couch silently and motionlessly for about three minutes until he asked "Are you going to watch Jeopardy! tonight?" To which I replied "I don't care." So I turned the TV on to Jeopardy!, and my mom comes in, sits down, and then asks me to raise the volume because she can't hear. I said no, and then she said "If you don't turn up the volume I'm going to leave." To which I replied "Okay." So she left.
Later on when it was time to light the menorah for Hannukah I said that I didn't want to participate tonight (I don't believe in my religion). My parents responded by throwing my gift at me: cash.
I was overwhelmed with guilt. I am a horrible daughter who has problems that require a ridiculous amount of expensive treatment. They give me everything and I keep messing up and give them nothing back. I don't deserve the present they gave me. I am a rotten, rotten human being.
After dinner, I went into the den and began chatting with someone on the internet. My dad came in, sat on the couch silently and motionlessly for about three minutes until he asked "Are you going to watch Jeopardy! tonight?" To which I replied "I don't care." So I turned the TV on to Jeopardy!, and my mom comes in, sits down, and then asks me to raise the volume because she can't hear. I said no, and then she said "If you don't turn up the volume I'm going to leave." To which I replied "Okay." So she left.
Later on when it was time to light the menorah for Hannukah I said that I didn't want to participate tonight (I don't believe in my religion). My parents responded by throwing my gift at me: cash.
I was overwhelmed with guilt. I am a horrible daughter who has problems that require a ridiculous amount of expensive treatment. They give me everything and I keep messing up and give them nothing back. I don't deserve the present they gave me. I am a rotten, rotten human being.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Mom Is Hiding Food
I had an appointment with my dietitian today, and, like usual, it was pretty much a waste of time. We talked about food- and eating-related things for maybe 10 minutes, and then the rest of the 50 minutes we talked about nothing of importance. During those 10 minutes she asked me whether I think I am making progress and I said no. I said that the three weeks that I spent without my scales and without using behaviors were a sign of progress, but now that I have a scale back, I am weighing myself daily and using behaviors (although not every day or every week, but sometimes), and I don't think that this is progress.
She then asked me if I was willing to give up my scale again and I said no. Then she asked me whether I still wanted to work towards recovery, and my answer was a little murky. I don't want my eating disorder, but I'm clearly unable to make the sacrifices that come with recovery, like giving up my scale and tolerating weight fluctuations. She shrugged. I shrugged. And that was that.
Anyway, I think my mom is hiding food from me. We have a refrigerator in our kitchen, but we also have one in our basement (it was my grandparents' and we inherited it when they passed away), and when she doesn't want me to eat something she puts it in the downstairs fridge. I guess it's not really hiding because I know the hiding place, but it's definitely sending the message that she doesn't want me to eat it. Also, yesterday I asked my mom whether we had any pita chips dip into hummus-- she had purchased the pita chips and hummus for my sisters when they came over, and I was wondering whether there was any left. My mom said "Do you really want to know?"
I don't know what she's afraid of. Is she afraid I will binge on all the food? Or that I'll throw it out? It's unclear. But to be honest, I'm kind of glad she keeps food away from me. For example, if she kept the pumpkin brownies I baked for Thanksgiving in the kitchen fridge I would be a lot more likely to use it to chew and spit, and that's not something I want to do. So I guess it's okay. But at the same time, it's kind of offensive. Does she think that I am that fragile? Once again, I don't know. And maybe I am that fragile. So I guess I shouldn't be complaining.
She then asked me if I was willing to give up my scale again and I said no. Then she asked me whether I still wanted to work towards recovery, and my answer was a little murky. I don't want my eating disorder, but I'm clearly unable to make the sacrifices that come with recovery, like giving up my scale and tolerating weight fluctuations. She shrugged. I shrugged. And that was that.
Anyway, I think my mom is hiding food from me. We have a refrigerator in our kitchen, but we also have one in our basement (it was my grandparents' and we inherited it when they passed away), and when she doesn't want me to eat something she puts it in the downstairs fridge. I guess it's not really hiding because I know the hiding place, but it's definitely sending the message that she doesn't want me to eat it. Also, yesterday I asked my mom whether we had any pita chips dip into hummus-- she had purchased the pita chips and hummus for my sisters when they came over, and I was wondering whether there was any left. My mom said "Do you really want to know?"
I don't know what she's afraid of. Is she afraid I will binge on all the food? Or that I'll throw it out? It's unclear. But to be honest, I'm kind of glad she keeps food away from me. For example, if she kept the pumpkin brownies I baked for Thanksgiving in the kitchen fridge I would be a lot more likely to use it to chew and spit, and that's not something I want to do. So I guess it's okay. But at the same time, it's kind of offensive. Does she think that I am that fragile? Once again, I don't know. And maybe I am that fragile. So I guess I shouldn't be complaining.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
A Lunch Date?
Firstly, I want to thank you all for your kind words on my last post. You guys said so many nice and encouraging things to me in the comments. The wind ensemble's recording is not ready yet, but if I don't hear anything about it in the next week or two I will definitely email the ensemble's manager. There's some really cool/beautiful pieces as well as some Christmas music, so I think you might like to hear it. I will keep you posted.
Anyway, as I tweeted earlier, today I went to lunch with someone I really didn't want to go to lunch with. He's a boy in my German Film class that happened to be in my graduating class in high school, and we've been friendly all semester. But I have a distinct feeling that he likes me more than I like him because while I am perfectly happy having a relationship consisting of only small talk before class starts (or no relationship at all), he walks me to my car all of the time. A couple of weeks ago when he was walking me to my car he asked me whether I would like to go to lunch with him and I said "Okay." I really didn't want to, but sometimes I'm too nice and I have a problem saying no to people, especially in person. I avoided eating with him for a few weeks by pretending I forgot about it and not responding to his emails in a timely fashion (I may be a horrible person), but this week I couldn't stall any longer.
So we went out for pizza for lunch today and it was weird. Well, in general, he's a weird guy, but he had an interesting eating habit. He ordered a pizza that basically had a salad on top (arugula and tomatoes), and ate the salad off of the pizza with a knife and fork and left the entire pizza. Why didn't he just order a salad? It was hard for me to eat my pizza with someone engaging in such disordered behavior (I'm not saying he has an eating disorder, but this is definitely disordered behavior), but I managed to get through it. I made a promise to myself to stay with him for 1.5 hours and then leave, and that's exactly what I did.
After class this afternoon he walked me to my car (although I asked him not to) and asked me whether I wanted to go out so he could "buy me coffee" right then. I told him no, that I had to get back home because my parents were expecting me for dinner.
So I wonder how he's interpreting things. Does he think I like him as much as he likes me? Or did turning down the offer of coffee clearly illustrate my feelings? All I know is that I really don't want to go out with him again. OACharlie pointed out that I have choices, and I intend to exercise my free will. But it's a lot easier said than done.
On a completely unrelated note, happy Hannukah to those celebrating with me tonight!
Anyway, as I tweeted earlier, today I went to lunch with someone I really didn't want to go to lunch with. He's a boy in my German Film class that happened to be in my graduating class in high school, and we've been friendly all semester. But I have a distinct feeling that he likes me more than I like him because while I am perfectly happy having a relationship consisting of only small talk before class starts (or no relationship at all), he walks me to my car all of the time. A couple of weeks ago when he was walking me to my car he asked me whether I would like to go to lunch with him and I said "Okay." I really didn't want to, but sometimes I'm too nice and I have a problem saying no to people, especially in person. I avoided eating with him for a few weeks by pretending I forgot about it and not responding to his emails in a timely fashion (I may be a horrible person), but this week I couldn't stall any longer.
So we went out for pizza for lunch today and it was weird. Well, in general, he's a weird guy, but he had an interesting eating habit. He ordered a pizza that basically had a salad on top (arugula and tomatoes), and ate the salad off of the pizza with a knife and fork and left the entire pizza. Why didn't he just order a salad? It was hard for me to eat my pizza with someone engaging in such disordered behavior (I'm not saying he has an eating disorder, but this is definitely disordered behavior), but I managed to get through it. I made a promise to myself to stay with him for 1.5 hours and then leave, and that's exactly what I did.
After class this afternoon he walked me to my car (although I asked him not to) and asked me whether I wanted to go out so he could "buy me coffee" right then. I told him no, that I had to get back home because my parents were expecting me for dinner.
So I wonder how he's interpreting things. Does he think I like him as much as he likes me? Or did turning down the offer of coffee clearly illustrate my feelings? All I know is that I really don't want to go out with him again. OACharlie pointed out that I have choices, and I intend to exercise my free will. But it's a lot easier said than done.
On a completely unrelated note, happy Hannukah to those celebrating with me tonight!
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