It's All In Your Mind

I don't do this very often, but I want to comment on a recent article on msnbc.com entitled "Anorexia may be more metabolic than mental, scientist argues."  I know I can only offer personal experience and the experiences of my friends as evidence to my point of view, but I think that my view deserves attention too.

Firstly, I completely disagree with the premise that "anorexia may be a disorder more of the metabolism than the mind... the disease is a sort of cousin of diabetes."  I can't speak for diabetics, but I am 100% certain that my eating disorder is in my mind, not in my pancreas.  I can feel it there.  That may sound really strange, but I can locate my eating disorder in my body, and it exists in my brain.

The scientist, Donard Dwyer, believes that "a few initial rounds of dieting could trigger a metabolism gone haywire," resulting in anorexia.  I do concede that initial dieting and weight loss can seem to trigger the disorder (you can read about the beginning of my eating disorder here), but I don't think it triggers a metabolic change.  I believe that initial weight loss can become addicting, just as alcohol can be come addicting.  But people don't say that alcoholism is caused by a metabolic change, so I don't see why weight loss would be any different.  They both stimulate the brain's reward center in people who suffer from these conditions.  Thus it's clearly not a metabolic change, but a mental one.

Then there's something that I don't understand: "Additionally, studies on starving people suggest that many of the supposed causes of anorexia, including food obsession and anxiety, may be symptoms of starvation."  Yeah.  So what?  Food obsession and anxiety may be/are symptoms of starvation, but that doesn't mean they are linked to metabolism.  Because, at least in my view, starvation is first triggered by the mind, and then some bodily responses kick in-- not the other way around!

These are my views; feel free to debate them in the comments.  Once again, the only evidence I have is mine and my friends' stories.  But I think we know ourselves well enough to say what is in our minds and what isn't.

Sick In Recovery

Remember a few weeks ago when I told you that I submitted a secret to my uni's PostSecret program?  It said "I have succeeded at everything I have tried.  Except suicide.  Twice."  Well, I looked at the website on which it was posted to see if there had been any new secrets posted, and my secret was still featured.  But I noticed for the first time that it was tagged with the following labels: "please don't," and "suicide."  For some reason that really struck me-- that a person who doesn't know me (the secret was anonymous) would not want me to commit suicide.  Do people really care about others in that way?  This kind of confirms my belief that the only way to get people to notice or care about me is to kill myself.

Today I had a therapy session with D and it did not go well.  I started off the session by saying that I've actually been doing okay for the past few days and that I was in an only-slightly-depressed mood.  Then he asked me about the boys I have been dating and I completely broke down into tears.  I know a few days ago I said that I wanted to stop dating them, and that still stands.  But I hate myself for being so afraid of physical contact that it gets in my way of living a normal life.  I am going to die friendless and alone.  It's hard to think of anything more depressing than that.

The thing is that even though some people would consider me to be "in recovery" I am still sick.  Just because my body is in a healthier place now than it has been in the past, my mind and sometimes my behaviors are still stuck in anorexia.  And it still interferes with my life.  Sometimes I have the thought that if the eating disorder still runs my life I might as well let it completely run my life and become skinny again.  But I guess I have the desire to do something with my life instead of spending it in a locked eating disorders unit.

Disposable

Sorry if my posting is a little less frequent than usual these days.  I'm trying to make every post have substance, and sometimes that's hard to do with only a day's material.  But I have a lot to say for the next few days, so be prepared!

Firstly, I would like to start off by saying I really dislike one of my roommates.  I mentioned her a week ago-- she's the one that used my Ziploc bags without my permission.  She still takes up about 70% of the space in the fridge and has completely filled the bathroom garbage with her "feminine product" trash, but refuses to take it out.  I have already taken out both the garbage and the recycling and, as I've said before, I don't want to be the house mom-- I want us to share responsibility.  If she doesn't take out the trash in the next few days I am going to say something because I am just getting angrier and angrier and it's not fair for me to have to sit with that anger.  I want to scream.

The other roommate, however, is really sweet!  I guess you could say that she is less responsible than me because she hasn't taken out the trash or anything, but she thanked me when I took out the trash and I thought that was polite.

A few days ago, this roommate asked me if I wanted to go downtown with her today.  I said yes basically because I couldn't say no because I had no plans and she lives with me and would see that, but I really didn't want to go.  Making plans in advance makes me anxious because I'm afraid I will be in a bad space in terms of depression when the time comes and then I'll either have to endure something that I don't want to endure or I will have to make an excuse as to why I can't go.  So I was really hoping my roommate would forget about our plans today, but she didn't.  But I actually ended up having a good time!  We went into H&M where I bought a really nice shirt dress for $12.  It's the kind of dress that I would wear if I got one of the jobs I am interviewing for on Wednesday, so hopefully I'll be hired and can put it to use.

In other news, on May 13 I wrote ES a message just to say hi because we hadn't spoken in several months, and she has yet to reply.  This breaks my heart.  ES is one of the few friends I have that's not from treatment who really gets me (ES is bipolar and bulimic).  I don't know why she hasn't replied yet, and of course there's the possibility that she will write me back at one point.  But I'm not hopeful.  I really don't understand why people find it so easy to just leave me.  Apparently I am disposable.

Back On The Wagon

Finally, after two days of restricting I finally followed my meal plan.  There were a few points in the day when I really considered using behaviors, but I managed to resist the urges.  One of those behaviors was laxative abuse; even though I threw away my laxatives a few weeks ago, I considered going to the pharmacy on the corner and buying some.  (Feel free to skip to the next paragraph if you are not keen on reading about my digestive system.)  I get really anxious when I don't have a bowel movement because I think it will distort my weight the next day; using laxatives relieves that anxiety.  And the past two days have been lacking in the BM department, so I was tempted.  But I told myself that taking laxatives would only damage my digestive system more and make it even more difficult to poop on my own.  Instead I considered buying a fiber supplement pill or drink mix.  But today my body got back on track so I'm going to hold off and see if it can heal itself.

But I was anxious about my weight this morning-- it was a fine number, but I was/am worried that the restricting would harm my metabolism and that I'd gain weight even if I followed my meal plan.  So I had a choice: I could do nothing and sit with the anxiety; I could restrict, but not too severely; or I could do some exercise.  The first option was not realistic, the second would have made me feel deprived (and could have set me up for a binge), so I chose the third.  I went on a really, really long walk, so hopefully my weight will be acceptable tomorrow.  I just want to be at an okay number and be able to stay there.  That would be nice.

Then this afternoon I went downtown to a restaurant to apply for a hostess position.  I saw an ad for an opening on Craigslist last night and decided to give it a try.  Interestingly enough, the restaurant is one at which EN worked as a hostess when she was a senior, so I definitely wrote her name down on the application.  I dressed up in a cute summer outfit (in fact, my body image wasn't terrible too!) because I thought I'd be meeting with the manager and it's a relatively upscale restaurant, but all I did was fill out an application.  I was really hopeful that this position would work out, but unfortunately when I got to the restaurant there were two other people filling out applications too, so I guess my chances aren't as good as I had hoped.  But later today I got a call from another restaurant asking to schedule an interview, so I'm still trying.  This job search process has not been enjoyable.

I Hate My Mind

Today was not a good day in terms of eating.  And honestly, I hate myself for it.  I just want to trade in my body and trade in my brain for ones that function better and don't destroy themselves.  I feel so gross.  Why can't I just eat normally?

In other bad news, the job as a barista or hostess that I mentioned yesterday fell through.  Yesterday I got a call early in the morning asking me to come down to the cafe that day for an interview.  I told them that I couldn't do it yesterday, but that I'd be free at any time on Thursday or Friday.  They said they'd call me back to schedule it.  They never called back, so this morning I called them to follow up, and "the position has been filled."  I'm a little upset because all of my prospects for the summer aren't looking good (except for the animal shelter-- they will definitely take me).  I have sent out 17 resumes, and not one has been successful.  It's very discouraging.

I also want to stop dating the guys whom I'm dating.  I am just too depressed and I want to isolate.  I'm also terrified of physical contact partly because of my experiences, and partly because I don't enjoy it.  How do I stop?  Do I just stop responding to messages?  Is there a better way?

I'm dreading tomorrow.  I am just so depressed that I do not want to face the day.  I don't have anything to do until 12pm, so I'm hoping that I will sleep to about 11am so that I don't have to spend time thinking.  I hate my mind.

A Better Day

After two days of restricting, when I woke up this morning my weight was back to an acceptable number.  As a result, my depression was a lot better today-- probably also due to the fact that I ate properly today.  It's really amazing what starving yourself will do your mood.  That may be the most obvious statement ever, but I think it's important to say

Another thing that has helped my mood today is the fact that last night I set some boundaries with my roommates.  I told them that I had purchased toilet paper for the house and that they could either pay me back for part of it or we could take turns buying it.  I also told them that I put my name on my personal stuff in the kitchen and that if they want to use it they should ask me first.  I feel a lot better about living here now.  Don't get me wrong, I would love to be back in my dorm living alone, but now this may be bearable.  I just hope I don't become the "house mom" who takes care of all of the chores.

I also got two calls back today from people to whom I sent my resume for work this summer.  One is an animal shelter-- they accepted my application and now (after an orientation session) I will be able to work at the adoption center or in the vet clinic.  One of the good things about this job is that I could choose my hours every day and it's also not a big deal that I will be away for 10 days in June for my Birthright trip.  The other job is a barista or hostess job at a cafe downtown.  The manager called me for an interview, and I think that I will be offered this job because I have so much experience as a barista (I worked at Starbucks for two years).  I'm not sure which I would choose if both come through, but it's nice to know that I at least have one thing to fall back on just in case everything else fails.

Speaking of Birthright, I got the itinerary for the trip today and, oh my goodness, I am going to be so tired!  We basically have activities from 8am to 9pm every day.  I'm nervous that I'm going to run out of energy, but I guess it's been done before so there's a possibility that I could do it too.  But I'm definitely looking forward to getting away from the city without having to go to my parents' home.

My Empire Of Dirt

Hurt, Johnny Cash

[Originally recorded by Nine Inch Nails]

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

Ziploc Bags Made Me Cry

Today I woke up and my weight was unsatisfactory.  It wasn't terrible, but it was not to my liking.  I couldn't delay anymore, so I restricted.  And let me tell you, not eating did not help my depression.  I was in an irritable and down mood all day.

For example, my parents called me this evening (as they do every Sunday) and I broke down crying because my roommate's food is taking up too much room in the fridge and she used my plastic wrap and Ziploc baggies without my permission.  (After this I went through the kitchen and labeled all of my stuff.)  Also, we're running out of toilet paper and I had to go out and buy some so that I can go to the bathroom tomorrow morning when I wake up and not have to go to the diner on the corner and use theirs.  I was just really upset that I have to be the considerate and responsible one.  Plus money is an issue; I am on a strict budget and the more Ziploc baggies that my roommate uses and doesn't replace the more I have to spend.  I miss living alone.

Tonight I had a date with another guy from OkCupid.  I wasn't totally there mentally because of only having eaten one item all day, but he did most of the talking so it went okay.  He asked me out again for Tuesday and I think I'm going to go for it.  He's pretty good looking and he has a good personality, so there's certainly potential.  But if we go out on Tuesday he wants to go out to eat then bowling, so my eating will have to be back on track by then.  I think it will be-- my bad days come in pairs.

See kids?  Eating disorders and eating disordered behaviors negatively influence all aspects of life.

Delaying By Crocheting

As I mentioned yesterday, I have been eating disorder-symptom free for 8 days now.  Maybe because of this my mind is going crazy obsessing over my weight.  I woke up this morning and stepped on the scale and the number was not desirable.  I panicked and decided that I wasn't going to eat today, but then somehow I convinced myself to give it just one more day before I act on my eating disordered thoughts.  Delay.  So today I ate according to my meal plan, but could not get my brain to turn off.

In an effort to try and distract myself, I took a long walk to a yarn store downtown to buy some supplies.  I had never been to the store or its particular neighborhood before, and it was really pretty.  The streets were lined with very old apartment buildings and the yarn store was just a little hole in the wall.  I found some pretty (and relatively inexpensive) yarn, but as I was taking the skeins from the shelf all of the yarn came tumbling down!  I did my best to put them back into place, but I didn't do a very good job.  Needless to say I bought my yarn and ran out of there before anyone could see the mess I made.  Whoops!

So I spent the entire afternoon browsing the internet for some crochet patterns, and found one that I liked.  I want to make a gift for my advisor for when I'm done with uni in December, and I think I'm going to make her a scarf/hat set or something like that.  I got started on the project and it's looking pretty good, I think.  I will, of course, upload a photo of it when it's done.

In other news, S was supposed to come to visit tonight-- he called me this morning saying he was going to be passing by my city on the way home and I invited him to spend the evening here.  I figured he has been trying to get us together for so long that I had to say yes because I kept on putting it off and I had run out of reasons not to see him (especially if he was coming here, as opposed to me having to go to his city).  He told me he was going to call me later today to devise a plan, but he hasn't contacted me and I've already taken my sleeping meds so our get-together is not going to happen.  I'm not too disappointed because I'm still feeling depressed, but I thought that maybe some contact with a friend would distract me.  I feel very alone right now.

Unstructured Time Is Bad

Last night I left my parents' house to go to my new uni apartment.  I traveled by train, and while I was standing on the platform waiting for my train to come in I envisioned throwing myself in front of it.  Pretty much every time I see a train I have that thought, but it doesn't get easier to deal with.

I woke up this morning extremely depressed and, apparently, irritable.  My new roommate asked me this morning if I had any plans for the day, and while I was nice aloud, in my head I was thinking "I don't need a mother checking up on me, thanks."  And the answer to that question-- no-- made me more depressed.  I had nothing to do today except send out resumes to various places hoping that one of them will call me back.  So that's what I did all day: I sat on the couch and searched for jobs while watching Law & Order.  The only time I left the apartment was to go buy some tea because I was (and still am) extremely tired.

Hopefully when I start my work and find a second job my life will be more structured and maybe I'll feel a bit better.

In terms of eating, that has been going really well.  I have been eating disorder symptom-free for a week, which may not seem like much, but it's a great improvement on what's been happening the past month.  I'm concerned about my weight because even though I am following my meal plan the number seems to be slowly creeping up.  It hasn't gotten into panic range yet, but I'm anxious.  I just have to tell myself over and over again that an increase of a fraction of a pound does not necessarily mean that I have gained that amount.

Dad And The ER

You may remember two weeks ago when I went to my parents' house to take care of my dog because my dad was having surgery out of town.  Even though the surgery was just on his eye, he hasn't been himself ever since-- he's been physically tired and kind of depressed.  In fact, Tuesday was his first day back at work.  On Wednesday (yesterday) he came home from work early because he felt dizzy.  A few hours later my mom (who is a doctor) took my dad's pulse and it was extremely rapid so she took him to the emergency room.  The doctors there gave him medication to slow his heartbeat, and they kept him overnight for observation.

I could not stop thinking of my getting a call from my mom saying my dad died.  In December a good friend from high school's mom died of a sudden aneurism, and just last week my ex-boyfriend's mom died (but I don't know from what).  Now, I know that my friends' parents' deaths have nothing to do with my dad, but given his state after the surgery and the sudden increase in pulse I kept on worrying that he would die.  I stayed up until 3am getting updates about his condition from my mom (who stayed with him).

Today he was fine and they discharged him in the mid-afternoon.  They don't know what caused the sudden rapid heartbeat, which makes me scared that it could happen again.  There's a lot of things I don't like about my dad, but I would be devastated if I lost him.

To end this post on a more positive note, today was my puppy's 5th birthday!  I got her a card and a bone, and we played all day.  Unfortunately the ground was still really wet from the rainstorm last night, so I couldn't take her to the dog park.  But I tried to tell her I love her the best I know how and celebrated her life with her.  Seriously, I love my dog more than I love anything in the world.

Standing Up

Unfortunately over the past two days I have been thinking and thinking about AB's comment to me ("I thought you were on the 10 year plan at [uni]!).  I know I shouldn't be giving him the time of day, but when a comment by a "friend" confirms an insecurity, it's really hard to let it go.  I brought it up with D yesterday in our session, and he said that there are two kinds of people: those that get ahead by working hard, and those that get ahead by tearing everyone else down.  AB is the latter kind.  And it's true-- throughout high school we were always in competition for the best grades and the best resume, and although I did really well in high school he managed to achieve more and he definitely made sure I was aware of this.  I think it's sad that it has been 5 years since high school and he is still resorting to this tactic.  Grow up.

So I had a choice: I could let AB's comment go and get together with him like he wanted and pretend everything was fine, or I could stand up for myself and tell him how his words made me feel.  Usually I am more inclined to do the former-- just take everyone's shit-- because I don't have many friends to begin with and I don't want to lose any that I already have.  But this comment stung so deeply that I had to do something.  So I typed the following in the reply box:

That was a dick comment to make.

It sat in the reply box for about an hour until I finally decided to press "send."  And to be honest, when I sent it I was so shaken from the experience of standing up for myself.  Ten minutes later I receive the following message:

:(  Sorry to offend you.

Sorry, AB, but that just doesn't cut it for me.  Either he doesn't understand just how much his words hurt me, or he doesn't care enough to write a proper apology.  I told my sister A what he had said originally (she was outraged) and what he said in his apology and her advice was to cut AB out of my life.  And you know what?  Unless I get a better apology he's gone.  I don't need his help to feel awful about myself-- I do that enough to myself.

A Post By A College Graduate

Hi my name is NOS, and I'm a college graduate!  Yes, that's right, ladies and gentlemen.  Yesterday and today I sat through two ceremonies and now I have a degree.  Well, kind of.  I still have the summer and a semester in the fall left of uni, but my faithful reader and friend Lexie of d o m e s t i c b l i s t e r s gave me a new perspective that I have adopted.  She told me to think of myself as a May 2011 graduate, and that I should consider the remaining courses I have to take continuing ed.  This may be deluding myself a little bit, but it makes me feel better, and I'm choosing to see things in this light.  Thanks again, Lexie!

I also got a pleasant surprise at graduation yesterday: my friend SYW came back from across the country to walk in the ceremony (she finished up uni last December).  SYW and I were coworkers, and while I was on medical leave last semester she revealed to me that she has depression, and so I told her about my depression and eating disorder.  She is one of three uni students whom I have ever told about my issues, and I hadn't seen her since last March.  We didn't get to have a real in-depth conversation, but it was nice to see her.

Then last night EN slept over my apartment.  As I mentioned on Saturday, I kind of didn't want her to come over because I was exhausted and had family to deal with, but it actually went pretty well.  After the graduation ceremony last night we all went back to my parents' hotel room for cake (it was also my sister M's 31st birthday, so it was a dual-celebration cake), and EN joined us so she wasn't in the way at all.  It was also nice seeing her because, like SYW, I hadn't seen EN since last March, and that's a long time.  (Coincidentally, EN is another one of the three people who knows about my "issues"-- the other is my boyfriend from freshman year.)

We interrupt this nice post about a pleasant graduation ceremony and me feeling proud to bring a message from an asshole.  Two minutes ago I got this message on Facebook from AB:

Hey NOS--

I'm thoroughly perplexed about your graduation photos -- I thought you were on the 10 year plan at [uni]!  Just kidding!  Congratulations on walking!

I'll be home over Memorial Day weekend and I hope to see you.

AB

Just slap me across the face why don't you?  It would hurt less.  "10 year plan?"  I have a DISEASE and I'm doing the best I can with it.  I don't need a reminder that I've screwed up the last six years of my life.  I'm crying.

14 Hours Of Sleep

Last night I had my date with a boy from OkCupid.  When I first saw him my thought was that I was not attracted to him.  But he's one of those people whose personality win people over.  We went to see a play and then for coffee, and I had a pretty good time.  However, I ended the date kind of ambivalent about our potential relationship.  I think I like the other guy from the site (the vet student) better.  I agreed to go on another date with him, but I'm feeling very torn.  Who would have guessed that I would have too many options?

Because my social life has been so active (well, in comparison to what I usually do, which is nothing) the past few days, I have been extremely tired.  In fact, last night I went to bed at midnight and woke up at 2pm today.  That's 14 hours.  That's ridiculous.  Also, I never got dressed or left the apartment today.

Tomorrow begins the graduation ceremonies, and I'm not really looking forward to it.  I don't want to walk, but my parents are really excited to see me because I was not at my high school graduation because I was in treatment.  But my negative feelings towards graduation have been tempered a little, and now I'm just worrying about minutiae like how I'm going to carry my keys or cell phone or how my hair will last in the rain (yeah, it's supposed to rain and that sucks) or if I'm wearing the right shoes.  Uni really didn't give us any instruction on what we're supposed to do, and that makes me anxious.  But I guess everybody is in the same boat.

Also, tomorrow night my friend EN is coming to stay over for one night.  It's really not good timing because of all of the graduation stuff that's going on, but she's in town only for two days and she needed somewhere to sleep.  I don't want her to come over-- I'm going to be tired from the ceremony and I just want to isolate.  But I haven't seen EN in over a year and this may be the last time I see her ever, so I have to suck it up and just be social.

I Found A Shrink

I was hoping to post last night, but as you may already know, there was a glitch with Blogger.  (Also, for some reason my last few posts got deleted and I am very upset about that.  Hopefully they will come back.)  So I have a lot to say today!

On Wednesday, besides feeling depressed and suicidal, I also had an appointment with another psychiatrist here in my city.  His name is Dr. E and he was pretty nice.  I told him most of my history (i.e., the suicide attempts, hospitalizations, treatment stints, the ECT) and he wasn't afraid of me like the last psychiatrist I went to a few weeks ago.  I also really liked his way of speaking to me.  He asked me to tell him about "what I'm going through" and for some reason that phrase conveyed sympathy and concern which I liked.  It made me feel connected to him.  Also, I told him about my rule that I won't take any medications that have weight gain as a potential side effect and he said that he would never prescribe a recovering anorexic drugs like that because it's just setting them up for failure.  I told him "Good, because even if you prescribed them I wouldn't take them anyway," and he laughed and thanked me for being honest.  I have another appointment with him in a month.

Yesterday was moving day-- I moved from my dorm to a sublet that is literally 3 blocks away.  I'm subletting a room in an apartment, which means that there will be three other girls sharing the apartment.  My room is small which kind of stinks-- it's the smallest in the apartment.  But at the same time it is also the cheapest.  I have the apartment to myself for several days, but I'm really anxious about having roommates.  Firstly, I feel like I eat so much food that my food is taking up all of the room in the kitchen and in the refrigerator.  In fact, I was so anxious about this that I brought a mini fridge that I'm keeping in my room.  I'm also anxious about my stuff taking up room in the shower too.  I know I have as much right as any of my roommates to have stuff, but I'm anxious that they will arrive and think I'm selfish.  And I don't want to appear selfish.

Yesterday I also had a date with the boy from last week.  It was actually kind of weird at first.  He took me to an event at a cemetery that was supposed to be a show-and-tell of medical oddities (or so he thought) but ended up being a PowerPoint lecture on embalming.  About 5 minutes into the presentation he turned and asked me if I wanted to leave and I said yes.  So instead we went back to his house and watched Trading Places, my favorite movie.  I got to meet his two cats and his roommates' two dogs (a hyper Golden Retriever and an adorable Great Dane).  I had a good time, and agreed to go out with him again.

But tonight I have another date with another guy!  (In the past two weeks my social life has been more active than it has been all semester.)  We're going to see a play.  I guess we'll see how this one goes!

Bad Two Days

I have had a bad two days.

Yesterday I could not stop thinking about hanging myself.  There were points in the day when I seriously considered going through with it and just dying.  Because I am in so much emotional pain and my painkillers-- my meds-- can only take the edge off.

I managed to get through the day without killing myself only to wake up today and step on the scale to see a horrific number.  You see, I hadn't weighed myself in a few days because I was waiting for my GI tract to recover from the laxative abuse, and at the same time I added a snack to my meal plan because I am typically hungry all of the time.  But when I weighed myself today I almost died.  And wanted to be dead.

I am fat.  Fat fat fat fat.  And that makes me a shitty anorexic and it makes me hate myself.  When I was at my worst in 2006 even though my life was falling apart I could at least say that I was good at one thing: losing weight.  And it felt amazing and gratifying (at least temporarily) when I did lose weight.  But now I feel like I'm letting my eating disorder down by being at the weight I am now.  It's days like today that I really miss my eating disorder and the highs that came with it.  It's days like today that I delude myself into believing those highs didn't entail extreme lows.  And I know this is wholly distorted, but even though I had nothing when I was at my worst I feel like I had everything because I was skinny, and I shouldn't have given it up by attempting to recover.

GI Tract, I Am Sorry

Today I made the trek from my parents' house in one city (and state) back to my dorm in another city (and state).  My train got into the station at about 6pm, and it was about a half-hour walk from the train station to my dorm.  I usually eat my dinner at 6pm (and I'm very strict about this), so when I got home at 6:30pm I immediately went to my refrigerator and freezer to get my food.  I opened the freezer to find that it wasn't working-- all of my vegetarian Morningstar Farms proteins were warm and all of the ice melted.  Then I opened the refrigerator to find icicles on and water dripping from the ceiling of the fridge.  Most of my food was ruined, so I had to find alternate dinner plans.  It turned out not to be such a big deal because the convenience store right underneath my dorm makes bagels and sandwiches, so I just got something to eat there.  But this means that tomorrow morning I will have to go out for meals until maintenance comes in and fixes the fridge.  I'm nervous about finding things that fill me up and fit into my meal plan.  Ugh!

In other eating news, last Wednesday and Thursday I abused laxatives again.  Badly.  I mean, I took a lot of them.  Needless to say, the immediate aftermath was not a pretty sight, nor was it pleasant to experience.  And now as a more long term consequence I haven't had a bowel movement since Thursday.  My stomach is distended and I feel fat and uncomfortable.  Readers, please take this moment to thank your GI tract for doing the work it does.  Seriously, you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

Why do I do this to myself?  Using laxatives does nothing to prevent the absorption of calories-- it just gets rid of the waste faster.  But for some reason it calms my anxiety to know that there is no food in my body.  Today I threw the rest of my laxatives away.  I know it would be easy enough to buy some more, but maybe this will make me pause and think rationally before I act.

Ha.  An eating disorder may be logical, but it certainly isn't rational.

I Want To Matter

On Wednesday I had an interview for an administrative assistant job at the English Language Program at uni.  I think I blew the interview (for some reason my mind was just not sharp), but that's okay.  When I was walking out of the building I saw my TA from my Shakespeare class that I took last spring (the semester when I was forced to leave midway through).  I recognized her and I hoped she wouldn't recognize me, but she did.  She addressed me by my name and said hi and asked me how my leave went.  I was so embarrassed.  I feel deeply ashamed that I had to leave that semester, and I didn't want anyone to notice.  Apparently someone-- my TA-- noticed and remembered even a whole year later.

But at the same time I want everyone to have noticed my absence.  Because if people noticed that would mean that I meant something to someone.  And that would be a nice change from always feeling like I could die and no one would find me for days.  (Mind you, I still believe this is true.)

Similarly, my school ran a PostSecret type program in which students could write their secrets on the back of a postcard and some would be selected to be posted on a website.  I submitted a secret that said the following: "I have succeeded at everything I have tried.  Except suicide.  Twice."  It got featured as the number one secret.  I feel good that my secret was shared-- it felt kind of freeing-- but at the same time I feel sad that no one will ever know it's mine.

The point I am trying to make is that I have incredibly mixed feelings when it comes to having people know about my illnesses.  On the one hand, I want people to know, but on the other hand I'd be ashamed to have that kind of attention.  At the same time I don't want to have to tell people-- I want them to care enough for me that they notice.  I want to matter.

Priority

Today I went to my eating disorder group, and something interesting came up: priorities.  For the longest time my eating disorder was my number one priority.  When things started to get really bad my senior year of high school I traded in friends, my position as captain of the fencing team, my physical health, and pretty much the rest of my life so I could lose weight.

I had no control over it.  I remember the exact moment my eating disorder switched on-- I stepped on the scale and had found out that I had lost weight unintentionally and I felt so high that I needed to lose more.  Nothing-- friends, fencing, health-- was as important as chasing that high.

The funny thing is that going to treatment didn't fix my priority problem; if anything it made my eating disorder even more central to my life.  I guess you could argue that it made my eating disorder a priority in a different way-- instead of making it a priority to protect my disease it made it a priority to recover from it.  But still, this makes eating the focus of my life and I hate it.  For most people food is food.  For me, food is everything.  It's been the last six years of my life, and it's likely the going to be the next six as well.  And maybe the six after that too.  I'm not looking forward to that.

Acting Accordingly

Today I had a session with Dr. N and she is very concerned.  I told her about my eating and laxative abuse lately, and she did not take it lightly.  Granted, my recent behavior shouldn't be taken lightly, but she seemed genuinely afraid.  I told her that I was afraid too-- afraid of relapsing, of having to go back to the hospital.  She asked if I would be willing to see a dietitian but I told her no because dietitians serve no purpose if you already have a stable weight maintenance meal plan.  I know exactly what I should be doing, but the problem is acting accordingly.  She recommended that I keep an online food journal to send to D every day.

I actually also had an appointment with D soon after my session with Dr. N, and apparently she called him and told him her concerns and recommendations.  D and I decided that keeping a food journal would be pointless because either I eat or I don't eat, and when I do eat I eat the same thing every day.  So instead we have come up with a system where I will text him every night saying yes or no to having followed my meal plan and yes or no to having used laxatives.  I'm really hoping that this will be the extra push I need to get back on track.  Hopefully I will be honest.

In other news, I have a friend that I met in treatment several years ago who currently keeps a blog.  And judging by her posts and the other interactions I have with her, she is probably the happiest person I know.  She is persistently positive, and talks about eating positively all of the time, meaning she talks about candy and food that she enjoys, and never talks about having struggles.  Part of me wonders if she's being genuine-- is she really as "recovered" as she seems to be?  And if she is, what does she have that I don't have?  I don't know what makes some people's eating disorders bad and others' really bad.  Sometimes I think about asking her how she does it, but I don't know if that's appropriate.

I really want there to be a day when I can get excited about candy, but I don't see that in my future.

The Semester Is Over

I'm done!  Done!  Done!  Today at around 2pm I handed in my Medical Sociology exam, ran out of the building, threw all of my papers up in the air, went to a carnival, found out my friend wasn't really pregnant, and did a bunch of singing and dancing.  Well, actually that's the ending to Grease, but my point is that it felt really good.  The semester is officially over, and I made it through without having to leave.

But to be honest, my eating has not been good recently.  Very not good.  And I am very concerned, because I am getting to the point where I was last year when I was hospitalized.  I really, really want to stop, but I'm having a hard time coping with the compulsions.  I have to stop.  There's no choice-- I can't relapse again.  Because I made a promise to myself when I was discharged from the hospital last year that that would be my last stint in treatment.  I need more self-control.

I'm really afraid that I won't be able to turn this around.  Really afraid.

The Week

Thank you all for your well-wishes for my dad on my last post.  I think he's going to be fine-- it's nothing too severe.  But it means a lot that you care.

Ah, so where to begin?  Basically the biggest thing that has been going on in the past week has been studying for my Medical Sociology exam tomorrow.  I am officially sick of this information!  I can't wait until tomorrow at 2pm when I can forget I ever learned anything about socioeconomic status and heart disease.  And then I'll be done with the semester!

On Friday there was a party at my boss's house to celebrate the end of the semester.  I wasn't having a good day with eating, so the dinner and dessert part of the get-together was challenging.  I was afraid, however, that my boss would notice me not eating very much (she knows about my eating disorder), but she seemed too preoccupied with feeding her 2 year old son to pay attention to my food intake.  But overall I had a pretty good time.  My coworkers are really smart and nice people, and it was nice getting to know and speak to them outside of the work context.

On Saturday I had a date with a boy I met on OkCupid.  We went out to dinner (and eating was going well that day, so I think I behaved normally) and then walked around campus for about two hours.  The date went well and he said he had an "awesome time" and has asked me out on another date, but my emotions have really been blunted recently so I don't have much of an opinion on how things went.  I agreed to go on another date with him, but I'm just not invested in the outcome.  No matter if he likes me or doesn't like me I don't really care.  I guess I kind of feel apathetic or disconnected from my feelings about the situation.  But I'm trying very hard to be a "normal" college student, and "normal" college students date.  I think.

On Monday morning I had an appointment with a new psychiatrist that I was hoping to be able to see here where I live (as opposed to back in my parents' city).  Yeah, that didn't go well.  I guess my life condensed into a 45 minute session sounds really scary, because I literally scared him away.  He asked about my medical history, so I had to tell him about the hospitalization last March from complications from my eating disorder.  I completely forgot about the hospital treatment I received for my suicide attempts (which were overdoses) until he asked me about my allergies to medication (because now if I ingest the medications I ODed on I will likely die).  He asked me whether I still have thoughts about killing myself and I told him that I do almost every day.  He was very concerned that I seemed to be "easy going" and (apparently) smiling when I was talking about "horrendous" things.  (Yes, that's right.  He called my life horrendous.)  He then told me that he was not the right doctor for me.  I said "Is that because I scared you away?" and he said "Yes."  I felt horrible the rest of the day.  Although I must say this: if you are afraid of depression, an eating disorder, or their symptoms, you probably should not be a psychiatrist.

So that has been my week.  Not a great one.  But I suspect I'll be in a lot better mood tomorrow at 2pm.  I hope all of you are well!  I missed you, readers.

Sorry For The Departure

Sorry for the unexpected break from blogging.  There was/is an emergency with my dad, and I had to go home to help take care of him.  I've been back and forth from my parents' house to uni (it has been exhausting!), but right now I'm back at uni because I have an exam tomorrow, but I'll be going back home right after it to take care of my dog while my parents go out of town so my dad can have surgery.  I promise I will write a (probably very long) post tonight recapping the past few days.

Thank you for sticking around.  Now back to normal!