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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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.

Decision Made… Maybe

I took the day off work today.  I should have been writing my literature paper, but felt the need for some self love.  i did a mud mask and watched TV.  It was just want I needed.

I did go to therapy though.  It was an interesting session.  We spoke about my soon to be ex  She had seen us both together many times, but even she was confused at how he was acting and what he’s said.  I was partially open with her about the eating disorder.  I was honest about how I was feeling ambivalent about recovery.  She was able to see where I was coming from and I think that helped put things in perspective for her.

The last time I saw my therapist, I mentioned how I didn’t know how much I was going to be able to see her because the one thing he actually paid for was therapy.  I can’t afford it on my own, especially now with having to hire a lawyer.  She asked if this were actually the case, or if it was eating disorder fueled.  I was honest when I told her it was both.  I don’t think I’m quite ready to let the eating disorder go.  So after all things were said, we decided that I won’t see her until December.

When I was thinner, I was happier.  I was able to be more varied in my food.  I could go out to eat with friends.  I felt more confident in how I looked and dressed more fashionably.  I took more chances in life.  I got out of my apartment every day.  I was generally happier.  Yes, there were struggles, but I feel like they were easier to overcome then.

So why wouldn’t I think the same thing would come to be if I lost weight?

I Can Stand on my Own

When my husband and I first started dating, I was in a bad bulimic phase of my eating disorder.  (Not that there ever is a good bulimic phase.)  It was rough.  It wasn’t something that I could keep a secret for very long.  So I said something that I had only said from a therapist’s couch.  It started with, “I have an eating disorder,” and slowly grew to include all the self destructive things that I did.

He never outwardly judged me.  And was always willing to be there.  No, he didn’t like it when I used behaviors, but he always held me after.  I learned that I could count on him when I began feeling the urges.

I have been through a lot of therapy.  Both on my own and with him.   I feel that in the past 4 years, I have really grown and am not so entrenched in my eating disorder.  I learned I didn’t always have to go to him when I had an urge.  I was learning that I am more than the eating disorder.  I started school.  I started reading (fun and homework) again.  I was starting to enjoy myself.

That’s when everything shifted.

We started fighting constantly.  We each said hurtful things.  I cried.  He sulked.  And somewhere in between my intense summer schedule and him working late and coming home wreaking of whiskey, we stopped talking to each other.

During one fight, he admitted he didn’t know how to be in a relationship with me when I wasn’t so involved with the eating disorders.  In front of my therapist, he admitted to not knowing how to fix me now.

I am not broken.  I don’t need to be fixed.  I never did.  I just need love and support while I worked on healing myself.  I am not an object to be repaired.

He doesn’t quite get that I don’t need my hand held all the time.  I am quite capable of standing on my own.

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.

Singing the Monday Blues

I am so not happy that today is Monday.  I don’t want it to be Monday.  Well, it can be Monday, but I don’t want to have to acknowledge it’s Monday.  I just want to go back to the weekend where I can procrastinate working on my paper some more.  Actually, that’s not true.  I did work on it quite a bit.  I have the short answers done.  I’m just working on the long essay.  I did email my professor to ask if I can focus on one major time period.  He said it was fine as long as I state exactly that.  I’m relieved about that.  I think part of me was just anxious that the essay could have such a broad response that I was a bit overwhelmed about writing it.  Now that I’m able to focus in on a particular year, it’s going to be much better.

I was meant to write some of my essay today.  But I haven’t even gotten to it yet.  Other things are getting in the way.  I just wish I could snap my fingers and it would get done.

I want to go back to sleep.  This heat wave is suffocating.  I don’t feel well at all.

The scale went up again this morning.  I’m not happy about that.  I didn’t want to eat lunch, but I felt I had to.  And now I feel so guilty for eating.  I feel like I could have held out longer.  I should have held out longer.  I should walk home to make up for it.  At least I’ll be walking to therapy.  That should make up for some of it.  I just want it all gone.

I fell like a complete spoiled brat.  Here I am complaining about writing a midterm, the heat, and myself.  I should be grateful I have any of those.  I really should.  I just need to suck it up and keep going.  I can do this.

Insomnia

I couldn’t sleep last night. It was rough. I spent over 3 hours trying to sleep and I really paid for it today.

I was anxious all day. I could barely concentrate. I get really bad anxiety when I don’t sleep well so I really try to get enough. The anxiety made finishing up my studying a bit more difficult, but I still managed to get through it.

And I was anxious for therapy. Not to mention we spoke about anxiety provoking things. So now I’m just super tired. I still have some reading to do, but I’m planning in being gentle with myself tonight.

I need to do whatever I can to lower my anxiety level. And going to bed early will help with that. Hopefully, the anxiety will be less tomorrow.