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.

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School and the E.D.

I’m taking a much needed study break.  I’ve been up to my eyeballs in the Enlightenment and the French Revolution.  Going back to school is a much more difficult task than I envisioned it to be.  Well, I knew it was going to be difficult, but didn’t quite realize to what extent.  The material isn’t difficult to understand, as I do have some knowledge in European history after the Enlightenment, but it’s just bit more tedious.  All the reading is making my head spin.  And I’ve realized that I read a lot faster when I’m reading for pleasure, regardless of my initial level of understanding of the material.  But all in all, I am enjoying being studious.  I love learning.

I just wish that the eating disordered thought wouldn’t creep in so much.  In the middle of reading an article, I find myself staring off and adding up the calories I’ve consumed, or about to consume.  There’s no relief.  Just a whole bunch of numbers in my head.  Then there are all the thoughts about food.  What I’ve had, what I’m going to have, what I would really like to have.  And the thoughts about my and my body.  I’m too fat.  Not smart enough.  Not working hard enough.  These thoughts are a plague on my brain.

This morning I found myself negotiating to eat breakfast.  This in and of itself is not new.  It’s the way I operate.  But I had something new to add to the table.  I couldn’t eat breakfast (no matter how hungry I might have been) unless I did at least an hour’s worth of studying.  It’s just one stipulation after another.  I can’t take a break until I’ve read the next chapter.  I have to get through the next 10 pages before I can get something to drink.  It’s just on and on like that.  There’s no respite.  And on one hand while I’m used to the negotiating, now there’s something new being thrown on the table and it’s taking me a bit to get used to it.

I don’t want to give up going to school.  I really don’t.  I think I’ve finally figured out my scholastic path (assuming grants and scholarships are given) and I’m really looking forward to it.  After a decade of kind of knowing what I want to do, then debating it, I can see it now.  But I also see the eating disorder blocking my path.  And I don’t know if I can do it with the eating disorder there.  I know ways of working around it, but I also know how much harder that is.  And the proof is in this past weekend.  Who knows how much of the reading I’ll actually remember?  But I do know that I will remember every morsel of food that passed my lips and my weight each morning.

I’m just frustrated.

Almost on Solid Ground

My dizziness is better.  Not gone, but better.  I was able to get some good sleep last night, but it was interrupted.  A one hour nap, followed by a small dinner–instead of going straight to bed (because I was on the couch).  The nap was a great idea, as was the dinner, but they were probably in the wrong order.

I would get to bed early tonight, except I have a meeting that will last until 8pm.  It will be worth it though.  I’m definitely working forward to it.  I just wish I were feeling 100% in order to be there properly.  I could network and ask questions and make myself known.  But tonight, I’ll just be looking to get out of there so I can get home.  And go to sleep.

This has been the first week of my husband’s new job.  I think that’s going to take a bit longer to get used to.  For the past two years, he’s been home when I get home and we got to spend the evenings together.  I don’t think that’s going to happen very often now.  It’s okay, but it’s going to take some time to get used to the new routine.

I feel like some things are starting to settle, while others are still up in the air.  I don’t like dealing with unknowns.

 

Trying to Move Past

I’m trying to push through the barrier still holding me in this relapse.  But I can’t seem to figure it out.

I’m really trying here:

  1. I’m talking more in therapy than I ever did.  I’m telling the majority of my secrets (probably 1 big one left, but that’s a story for another time).  I’m being honest about my behaviors.  I’m making connections that I never have before.
  2. I’m back on a meal plan.  I’ve got specific times and food that I have to eat.  It’s not pleasant at all, but I don’t feel like I can trust myself to go back to eating intuitively right now.
  3. I’m putting speed bumps in for then I have urges to act on behaviors.  I have a list of things to do and I go through them one by one until either the urges pass or I have to start it over again.
  4. I’m actually taking care of my medical issues.  Working on the digestive issues.  Got my eyes and teeth checked.  Regular doctor appointment scheduled for next week.  And lady doctor scheduled for mid-June.
  5. I’m not hiding things from my husband.  I’m being super honest with him.  He knows what I’m going through and is there to help or just hold my hand.

However, because everything is so multifaceted, there’s also this to consider:

  1. I am HUGELY apprehensive about talking about my “big secret.”  I’m really scared that it will be too much for me to handle and I won’t be able to function.
  2. I’m skimping and rearranging my meal plan.  I know it’s really not okay, but it’s the only way I can make it through the day without wanting to punish myself.
  3. Sometimes, I can tell beforehand if the speed bumps won’t work.  Even if they have in the past.
  4. I really don’t mind the digestive issues.  Actually, I do–when I’m in the midst of them.  I kinda miss them now.
  5. He also doesn’t know when/how to challenge when the eating disorder side is more in control than the healthy side.

I understand my fear of #1, but I also know at some point, I’m just going to have to jump.  And #5 can’t really happen unless I tell him.  But #2-#4, I don’t really get.  I know it’s all still very disordered behavior, but I had previously been able to get past it.  The last time I went into treatment I didn’t mess around with my meal plan.  I don’t think I’ve been this pessimistic about alternative coping skills.  (Not that I’ve ever been gung ho about them, but just not so negative.)  And when have I ever wanted to feel like crap for days on end?

It’s just very frustrating to want to hurry up and get back in recovery, but not be able to because I’m standing in my own way.

 

Early Sunday Morning Calm

My husband and I keep very different hours. He’s more of a night owl and I’m more of a morning person. I like waking up early and having the apartment to myself. It’s nice being in the quiet. I can think or get some stuff done. Regardless, I feel like it’s my time and it’s part of my routine to keep me calm and sane. And for the same reason, I’m sure my husband likes the late night hours for the same reasons.

But this past week, my husband has been going to bed early and up early with me. I’ve really appreciated it this past week because my anxiety has been so high. It’s helped calm me down. This has also crept in to the weekend. And while I love spending time with him, I’ve missed my quiet time. It’s just not the same.

I’m more conscious of what I do, what I watch on tv, how I react, even how I sit. My husband is sensitive and I love that part about him. Him being honest and vulnerable makes me want to open up and be just as open and vulnerable. However, he also takes things I do or say very personally when I never met it like that in the first place. And when he takes it personally, he gets quiet and shuts me out. I try to explain, but I get silence. And that really doesn’t make me want to open up to him.

I feel like there’s a fine line between him wanting me to be authentic and what he’s actually willing to accept. As long as I fit into the box he’s defined for me, then it’s okay to express myself. As long as I have “problems” that require me needing him, then it’s okay. If I’m upset or hurt by something he feels is small, then I’m overreacting or my feeling are silly. But they’re true to me.

The feelings are true for me.

True for me.

Then I feel guilty about having those feelings in the first place, so I just swallow them down. The wall goes up and I numb myself. No feelings. It makes things easier. At least for the time being.

I use those weekend mornings to help me process those feelings. I can figure out what is important to me and what I can get over. I don’t get that time when he’s up. And I don’t know how I can say I need that time.

Maybe it’s just better not to feel.