breaking down

it’s really hard being at work when i’m having a hard time keeping it together.  the tears overflow and i just can’t stop them.  this just hurts too much.

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Doors Closed

I’ve really been struggling with the eating disorder since my husband left.  It’s such a fight to eat.  And now that I’m sick, my appetite has disappeared.  I love seeing the number on the scale go down and am having a really hard time seeing the number go up, even if it’s less than a pound.

I can see myself going downhill quite rapidly.  I see little things creep up that I wouldn’t see normally until I was at a much lower weight.  Actually, they don’t so much creep up as smack me in the face.  Then I obsess and I have to find out more, even if I already know all about it and am rereading the same book/website.  Some of it is kind of worrisome.

I’m having trouble sleeping.  Last night, I barely got 3 hours.  I’m having a hard time paying attention and find myself spacing out quite often.  I’m depressed.  I don’t want to do anything, except lose more weight.  It take a lot to convince myself that it’s okay to eat.  Then it takes a lot to actually eat it.  I’m having a hard time with fluids, too.  The rules and obsessions and routines are becoming more intense and time consuming.

The eating disordered thoughts were really loud last week and in a moment of clarity, I called to see if I could find a therapist that is covered by my insurance.  (I wish I could see my old one, but I can’t afford her.)  The search isn’t going well.  I don’t have any out of network benefits and I haven’t been able to find anyone.  Then in a moment of clarity (weakness?), I called two treatment centers about their evening IOP programs.  It’s not looking good though.  These were the only two who would be willing to work within my school and work schedule.  Got a definite, “No,” from one and waiting to hear back from the other.  I’ll probably get the same answer though.  My insurance sucks.

But then I remember that I want to continue to lose weight.  I really don’t want to be stopped this time.  Not yet anyway.

Standing on the Precipice

I’ve been trying to distract myself for the majority of the day.  I’ve really wanted to just binge and purge all day or, at the very least, just dig out my laxatives.  And I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out.  I’ve tried to do homework, watching a movie, playing games on my phone and computer, taking a nap and the urges are still there and just as strong.

Last week, I had been thinking that it might be worth it to try to go through my insurance for a referral for a therapist.  I would love to continue to see the one I was seeing as she knows everything already, but I can’t afford her.  Even with her sliding scale.  The person I called was rude.  After I told her the symptom usage, she asked my weight.  I’m already embarrassed about my weight and it just kills me every time I have to say it out loud.  I lied and told her I weigh ten pounds less than I actually do.  She basically said I was fat.  Actually, she said, “Well, those symptoms haven’t made you thin.”  Yeah.  Ouch.

I’ve just been replaying that conversation over and over in my head.  Every time I go to eat something, I hear her words again.  I feel so guilty after eating, if I eat at all.  All I want to do is lose weight.  As much as I can, as quickly as I can.  I just want the food out.  I want to be empty.

On a good day, I can fight the urges and the thoughts with minimal usage.  Yes, I’m probably still technically engaging in behaviors, but you know what?  It’s better than completely consumed by the eating disorder.  Not really in recovery (but closer than I’ve been in a long time), but not completely consumed either.

I’m just too exhausted to fight it anymore.

Enough

The crying needs to stop. NOW. I don’t like being all teary eyed all day long. I don’t like it when I’m anxious and jittery that I can’t think about anything other than escaping. I don’t like that I haven’t been able to finish a meal without crying the past couple of days. I don’t like it that I’m slacking on my responsibilities but can’t find the energy to get them done properly (so why do them at all?)

I’m usually much better at handling my emotions. I’m really good at compartmentalizing everything. At least I used to be. Now, it’s like everything is bubbling and I can’t keep the lid down. I have no idea how I used to do it.

I tried writing in my journal over the weekend to help me process some of this stuff, but I got so incredibly angry that I started shaking and had to stop.

I don’t want anyone to think I can’t handle this because I can. But I’m sick and tired of people telling me that this is the best thing to happen and that I will be okay. Well, no shit. I will be okay because I have no other choice than to be okay. And it’s not that I want to talk about myself every single second of every single day, but it would be nice if someone other than my parents, 1 friend, and 1 acquaintance asked how I was doing. I just feel so alone. And sad. And angry.

I am having a hard time reaching out. I always have. I just feel like since everyone knows I’m normally strong and resilient, then I must be okay now. But it’s not true. I feel like I’m crumbling. (I can’t even afford therapy right now. I’m a mess.) All I want to do is hide away in bed.

This pity party needs to stop. I just need to pull myself up with my boot straps and dry my tears. I can be strong like everyone thinks I am. I can handle it.

No. Really. I can.

I just don’t want to.

What Would Have Been

Tomorrow would have been my anniversary.

A year ago, we were in a church, exchanging our vows and promising to be together until “death do us part.”  And he left.  Without a word.

I wanted to be married to him.  I thought we were equal.  I thought we were partners.

He was the love of my life.  I always thought of him in dreaming up future plans.  Even when I knew it was over, I thought of ways that it would be easiest on him.  I knew we would both be hurt, but I was trying to figure out the less hurtful way of ending it.

He never thought of me at the same level.  He was never open with me, but he forced me to tell him everything.  He made me financially responsible for the household.  It was fine when he was unemployed, but didn’t want to contribute even after he got a job and couldn’t understand why I needed money.  He went out all the time after work and got drunk, and I just went to class then home.  He was adamant about having a biological child and would only consider adoption as a last resort.  Not a good thing to say to someone who is adopted.

I had him first in my heart.

He took a sledgehammer and broke it into pieces.

And now I just want to hide… disappear…

Holding On

Oh my goodness.  It’s a little before 1:00pm here and I still haven’t finished my essay that’s due today at 6:00pm.  This is the same essay that was due last week.  I hadn’t finished it and told my instructor what had happened.  She gave me an extension until this week to get it done.  I’m really appreciative because she could have just said, “too bad,” and lowered my grade.  But I’m still struggling with getting it finished.  I have 2.5 pages out of 5 done.  And it’s really bad writing.  I’m so not happy with it.  And I hate to say it, but at this point, I just don’t care.  I just want the damn thing done.

I just want to be able to go home and take a nap.  Right now.  Please.

Or at least just lie in bed with my puppy.

I just need the weekend to come.

I felt like I have a firm grasp on the box labeled “emotions.”  But now I feel like I’m starting to lose it.  I’ll be fine one minute, then about ready to burst into tears the next.  I’d really rather not come into work each day.  Actually, I’d really rather not wake up so early each morning.

On Edge

I had a panic attack this morning at Starbucks waiting for my coffee.  Not cool.

I had my digestive issues again today because I consciously didn’t take my meds.  Really not cool.

But at least I can eat a fairly normal lunch.  Not that I really did.  And not that I don’t feel guilty, because I do.  It was just nice to have the thought.

Once again, I am procrastinating writing my essay for my midterm.  Say it with me now, not cool.

I have half a mind to just go straight home today after work, instead of to class.  With my full intention being to work on my midterm, but I know I would just procrastinate then go to bed early.

I should have stayed home from work today.  I felt the anxiety creeping in, but I felt I could push myself through it.

I didn’t sleep as much as I should have last night.  I was up (punishing myself) procrastinating.

I don’t want to be here at work right now.  There’s nothing for me to do.  Well, no actual work anyway.

Yesterday, therapy probably touched on a few issues I would rather not have it touch.  I was fairly honest with her.  I still could have said more.

I get really peeved when my husband says “we”, but it’s really an “I.”  Like me.  Not him.  I would still get irritated, but not quite as much, or in the same way.

I just want to go to sleep.  Or escape for a while.  With no phone, no computer, nothing.