Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
I Am Tired
I am always tired and I think it has become a real problem. It's way too hard for me to wake up in the morning and too easy to fall asleep at night. Honestly, I start getting ready for bed at 8 o'clock at night-- that's not normal for a 22 year-old girl. And even if I get eight plus hours of sleep at night I always wake up tired. I never feel rested. I'm currently on medications that help me fall asleep (unaided I'm an insomniac), but I think I now need medications to keep me awake. I've heard that sometimes psychiatrists prescribe Adderall or Ritalin to keep patients awake, and I would LOVE to take these. I used to abuse speed for eating disordered reasons, but I think I'm in a space now where I can take these responsibly. I just really need to stay awake.
Feeling tired all the time has a negative effect on my life. I'm too tired to see people and be social. I hardly ever make plans because I am always too tired to follow through on them. For example, I ran into a friend about two weeks ago and she told me to call her to make plans but I haven't because I just feel too wiped out to maintain a conversation. But sometimes I feel obligated to go out; S always wants to get together at night and I never want to but feel like I must or he won't be my friend anymore. (In fact, he and I are getting together tonight after several attempts for us to go out which were all foiled by me falling asleep too early. I just drank a medium-sized iced coffee so hopefully that will help.)
It seems like this is how my depression is manifesting itself right now: fatigue and apathy.
In other news, Shrinkiepoo called me to say that he supported my decision to quit the diner and that it wouldn't have a negative impact on his decision to allow me to go back to uni. I'm pretty relieved about this, but honestly I kind of miss work. Well, that's not entirely true; I miss making money. I guess I'll just have to be extra frugal right now.
Feeling tired all the time has a negative effect on my life. I'm too tired to see people and be social. I hardly ever make plans because I am always too tired to follow through on them. For example, I ran into a friend about two weeks ago and she told me to call her to make plans but I haven't because I just feel too wiped out to maintain a conversation. But sometimes I feel obligated to go out; S always wants to get together at night and I never want to but feel like I must or he won't be my friend anymore. (In fact, he and I are getting together tonight after several attempts for us to go out which were all foiled by me falling asleep too early. I just drank a medium-sized iced coffee so hopefully that will help.)
It seems like this is how my depression is manifesting itself right now: fatigue and apathy.
In other news, Shrinkiepoo called me to say that he supported my decision to quit the diner and that it wouldn't have a negative impact on his decision to allow me to go back to uni. I'm pretty relieved about this, but honestly I kind of miss work. Well, that's not entirely true; I miss making money. I guess I'll just have to be extra frugal right now.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
I Made A Decision
Yesterday was a pretty important day. I went to my eating disorder group in my work clothes, fully expecting to go to work afterwords (after dropping my dog back at home-- she comes to therapy with me). But I brought up the sexual harassment issue and everyone including D said I shouldn't go back to the diner. D said the situation is exacerbated by my past. So I called my work and told them that I wouldn't be coming in again. Then D and I called Shrinkiepoo so he would know that this was the right decision to make and so he won't hold it against me when it's time to decide whether or not I go back to uni. (I really hope he understands. Really.)
I think quitting was the right thing to do for me. The soap man is an employee of the restaurant and my boss laughed at the sexual harassment and said "NOS, you're certainly racking up the compliments today!" I don't need to be in an environment in which I feel physically unsafe and unprotected, right?
As for today, I spent most of the day sleeping as I have been incredibly tired recently. Lately it has been very hard for me to get up in the morning. I guess this is something to talk about with Shrinkiepoo in our next session.
In other news, I have been talking to my friend SH from the treatment center I went to in the fall and she's having a really hard time. She just discharged, so this slip/relapse came on very quickly. I don't know what to do. I try to be encouraging to her and tell her not to give up, but she has already decided that she is "failing" so it feels like everything I say just goes in one ear and out the other. She has been in and out of this specific treatment center for five years straight and I try to tell her that maybe it just isn't the best place for her. I know that as soon as I left I relapsed as well. I'm really concerned about her but frustrated at the same time. I wish she would take in the things I say.
I think quitting was the right thing to do for me. The soap man is an employee of the restaurant and my boss laughed at the sexual harassment and said "NOS, you're certainly racking up the compliments today!" I don't need to be in an environment in which I feel physically unsafe and unprotected, right?
As for today, I spent most of the day sleeping as I have been incredibly tired recently. Lately it has been very hard for me to get up in the morning. I guess this is something to talk about with Shrinkiepoo in our next session.
In other news, I have been talking to my friend SH from the treatment center I went to in the fall and she's having a really hard time. She just discharged, so this slip/relapse came on very quickly. I don't know what to do. I try to be encouraging to her and tell her not to give up, but she has already decided that she is "failing" so it feels like everything I say just goes in one ear and out the other. She has been in and out of this specific treatment center for five years straight and I try to tell her that maybe it just isn't the best place for her. I know that as soon as I left I relapsed as well. I'm really concerned about her but frustrated at the same time. I wish she would take in the things I say.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
A Song About Peace
Scarborough Fair/Canticle, Simon and Garfunkel
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
(On the side of a hill in the deep forest green)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
(Tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground)
Without no seams nor needlework
(Blankets and bedclothes a child of the mountains)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion call)
Tell her to find me an acre of land
(On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
(Washed is the ground with so many tears)
Between the salt water and the sea strand
(A soldier cleans and polishes a gun)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather
(War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
(Generals order their soldiers to kill)
And gather it all in a bunch of heather
(And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Friday, June 25, 2010
Sexually Harassed
I had my appointment with D today to discuss whether or not we were going to engage in therapy together. I decided to go ahead with it pretty much only because I knew that Shrinkiepoo would take that as an example of me being proactive about my recovery. I just won't say anything that would jeopardize my chances of going back to uni, rendering the therapy nearly useless. Whatever. My insurance pays for it.
I also had to go to work at the diner today and let's just say it wasn't a great day. Firstly, I burned my hand. Secondly, I didn't make a lot of tips. And finally, I was sexually harassed by the guy who owns the company that supplies soap to the restaurant.
He came in and sat down at the counter which happened to be in my section, so I got him something to drink. He began chatting with me and the manager (they're friends) and everything was going fine. I walked away for a bit and when I come back he said "Would you mind it if I sexually harassed you? You have the most perfect ass..." (he then went on to describe it). The manager, who ostensibly is supposed to protect his employees, laughed. Flabbergasted and taken aback, I said "Thank you." Then the soap man then asked if I would have an affair with him and told me he'd be my sugar daddy. I laughed because I didn't know what to say.
I'm trying to sort out how I feel about all of this. I know I feel embarrassed but I'm not sure what else. Worthless? Objectified? Angry? I'm dreading the next time I have to see this soap man. And it doesn't make me excited about going to work tomorrow.
I also had to go to work at the diner today and let's just say it wasn't a great day. Firstly, I burned my hand. Secondly, I didn't make a lot of tips. And finally, I was sexually harassed by the guy who owns the company that supplies soap to the restaurant.
He came in and sat down at the counter which happened to be in my section, so I got him something to drink. He began chatting with me and the manager (they're friends) and everything was going fine. I walked away for a bit and when I come back he said "Would you mind it if I sexually harassed you? You have the most perfect ass..." (he then went on to describe it). The manager, who ostensibly is supposed to protect his employees, laughed. Flabbergasted and taken aback, I said "Thank you." Then the soap man then asked if I would have an affair with him and told me he'd be my sugar daddy. I laughed because I didn't know what to say.
I'm trying to sort out how I feel about all of this. I know I feel embarrassed but I'm not sure what else. Worthless? Objectified? Angry? I'm dreading the next time I have to see this soap man. And it doesn't make me excited about going to work tomorrow.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
An Event-Filled Day
Today was a relatively good day, but I'm still feeling a bit neutral like on Tuesday. Maybe leaning towards the positive end of the spectrum.
The day started with a phone session with Shrinkiepoo in which I told him my hesitations about potentially beginning therapy again with D. You see, D laid these "ground rules" for our therapy-- conditions to which I must agree in order for him to be able to treat me. One of these rules is that he needs to have permission to talk to my parents if I'm ever suicidal, which tends to happen often. So I told Shrinkiepoo that therapy doesn't make sense if I think everything I say will be told to my parents because then I won't tell D how I'm actually feeling. I also mentioned how this is how I now feel with him (Shrinkiepoo) because of his contact with my parents. I said that I know that he and D don't want to be "handcuffed" (D's term) but that I don't want to be handcuffed either, and that I'd rather my treatment team be handcuffed than me. Shrinkiepoo tried to convince me that I am "choosing" to see things this way and that I can look at it a different way, but I told him that I didn't want to discuss it anymore because I would just get angry (again). I felt very dismissed.
One thing that Shrinkiepoo told me that was comforting was that the point at which he would need to call my parents is pretty far along the suicidal spectrum. Meaning he wouldn't call if I'm just talking about suicide, only if he feels like I am in real danger of doing something to harm myself.
Another thing about therapy with D that I'm not wild about is that he will have contact with Shrinkiepoo, and I feel it's just another source of information for Shrinkiepoo to use to not allow me to go back to uni in the fall. Like, if I tell D something that reflects my depression he will tell Shrinkiepoo and I'll never be able to go back. So again I wouldn't be able to be honest, so what's the point of therapy? I have an appointment to talk to D tomorrow to see how he feels about the suicide issue and this one.
I also had another appointment with my dietitian today and it went really well! I keep a food journal in which I write everything I eat and she looked at it and said that it looks like I've been really eating very healthfully. I'm glad I am getting her star of approval because she also has permission to talk to Shrinkiepoo and therefore has a say in whether or not I go back to uni.
Later in the day I got together with a friend AB. He's the one who makes me feel bad about myself because he is perfect at everything and I am such a (excuse my language) fuck-up. He knows that I am anorexic and when he asked me if I was at uni at all this year and I told him that I have been in and out of hospitals. He seemed sympathetic and we joked about how I do so poorly in life. I was very self-deprecating, but it was kind of hurtful even though it was all in good fun. I just wish I hadn't really messed up so much in my life. I will never get these years back, the ones that have been ruined by my eating disorder and depression.
(Sorry this was such a long post. Thank you to those who made it to the end!)
The day started with a phone session with Shrinkiepoo in which I told him my hesitations about potentially beginning therapy again with D. You see, D laid these "ground rules" for our therapy-- conditions to which I must agree in order for him to be able to treat me. One of these rules is that he needs to have permission to talk to my parents if I'm ever suicidal, which tends to happen often. So I told Shrinkiepoo that therapy doesn't make sense if I think everything I say will be told to my parents because then I won't tell D how I'm actually feeling. I also mentioned how this is how I now feel with him (Shrinkiepoo) because of his contact with my parents. I said that I know that he and D don't want to be "handcuffed" (D's term) but that I don't want to be handcuffed either, and that I'd rather my treatment team be handcuffed than me. Shrinkiepoo tried to convince me that I am "choosing" to see things this way and that I can look at it a different way, but I told him that I didn't want to discuss it anymore because I would just get angry (again). I felt very dismissed.
One thing that Shrinkiepoo told me that was comforting was that the point at which he would need to call my parents is pretty far along the suicidal spectrum. Meaning he wouldn't call if I'm just talking about suicide, only if he feels like I am in real danger of doing something to harm myself.
Another thing about therapy with D that I'm not wild about is that he will have contact with Shrinkiepoo, and I feel it's just another source of information for Shrinkiepoo to use to not allow me to go back to uni in the fall. Like, if I tell D something that reflects my depression he will tell Shrinkiepoo and I'll never be able to go back. So again I wouldn't be able to be honest, so what's the point of therapy? I have an appointment to talk to D tomorrow to see how he feels about the suicide issue and this one.
I also had another appointment with my dietitian today and it went really well! I keep a food journal in which I write everything I eat and she looked at it and said that it looks like I've been really eating very healthfully. I'm glad I am getting her star of approval because she also has permission to talk to Shrinkiepoo and therefore has a say in whether or not I go back to uni.
Later in the day I got together with a friend AB. He's the one who makes me feel bad about myself because he is perfect at everything and I am such a (excuse my language) fuck-up. He knows that I am anorexic and when he asked me if I was at uni at all this year and I told him that I have been in and out of hospitals. He seemed sympathetic and we joked about how I do so poorly in life. I was very self-deprecating, but it was kind of hurtful even though it was all in good fun. I just wish I hadn't really messed up so much in my life. I will never get these years back, the ones that have been ruined by my eating disorder and depression.
(Sorry this was such a long post. Thank you to those who made it to the end!)
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Just To Know You're Alive
Iris (Acoustic Version), The Goo Goo Dolls
And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
When sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
A Neutral Birthday
Today was my 22nd birthday. My mom bought birthday cake which I had been dreading all day (because I'm afraid of it) but I think I did a good job managing the anxiety when it came time to eat it. Besides the cake there wasn't anything special or different about the day. I am, however, very glad to be done with my 21st year. It wasn't a very good year.
Today I met up with my friend, SS, to just chat. She is home for a week from the treatment center that I went to in the fall (we met there) and I invited her to join me for some coffee. We had a really good conversation and something interesting came up.
I told her that I have been feeling like I have no feeling anymore-- that everything is neutral. I'm not severely suicidal like I was in March, and I'm not particularly happy. I live in a kind of limbo. In the eating disorder group that I joined last week the first thing they do is go around and rate their week on a scale of one through ten. I recently I have just been having a five-- not good, not bad, just... there.
I don't really like this feeling. Granted, anything is better than truly planning to throw myself off a bridge, but I feel dead. Yes, "dead" is the best word to describe how I feel right now. Maybe the Wellbutrin has left me in this space. Maybe this is my acme. If it is then I am very disappointed in what life can be. I wonder what it's like to feel alive.
Today I met up with my friend, SS, to just chat. She is home for a week from the treatment center that I went to in the fall (we met there) and I invited her to join me for some coffee. We had a really good conversation and something interesting came up.
I told her that I have been feeling like I have no feeling anymore-- that everything is neutral. I'm not severely suicidal like I was in March, and I'm not particularly happy. I live in a kind of limbo. In the eating disorder group that I joined last week the first thing they do is go around and rate their week on a scale of one through ten. I recently I have just been having a five-- not good, not bad, just... there.
I don't really like this feeling. Granted, anything is better than truly planning to throw myself off a bridge, but I feel dead. Yes, "dead" is the best word to describe how I feel right now. Maybe the Wellbutrin has left me in this space. Maybe this is my acme. If it is then I am very disappointed in what life can be. I wonder what it's like to feel alive.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Secret Revealed
Sorry I haven't posted anything in a few days. I have either been at work or with my family (for Father's Day) or asleep. Actually, last night I slept for 14.5 hours. But that's a different story.
Anyway, on Friday I told you guys that I might begin to talk about my secret and I'm going to try to do so right now. Okay, here I go. Well, when I was seventeen someone gave me drugs and then had sex with me. When I was eighteen a different person physically held me down and then had sex with me. Doctors have said that I had/have PTSD but I don't know if that is (still) true. I think I have largely moved past these things, but I'm not sure. Sex is still, um, not very fun for me (but that could be a symptom of my depression) and I still feel a lot of self-blame.
The secret goes further, however. The person who gave me drugs and then had sex with me... is S. I know how messed up it is to be "friends" and sleep with the person who assaulted me, but I really don't have any friends so I take anyone who is willing to spend time with me. It's very messed up. The thing is I think he thinks that what happened was consensual when I don't think it was. So he doesn't even know how I feel.
The other day I was at S's house swimming in his pool and somehow the subject of his ex-girlfriend (my ex-best friend who happened to be his girlfriend when the incident happened) came up. He said that she hates us both, and I got really upset. When this happened several years ago S apparently bragged to his friends about what had happened and everyone found out. Because of this everyone in my school thought I was a backstabbing slut and decided to shun me. The loss of all of my friends hurt more than the actual assault. So when S brought up how much his ex-girlfriend hates me it stung; it reminded me of the pain I experienced when all of my friends left me for something that I believe wasn't my fault. (I never wanted to correct them because I felt like what had happened was my business and no one else's-- I didn't feel like I needed to explain myself to anyone.) I still hate to think that there's a person out there who hates me so much, and it brings up the thought that maybe this was consensual and maybe I am a backstabbing slut. And I'll never know the truth about what happened.
I am such a mess.
Anyway, on Friday I told you guys that I might begin to talk about my secret and I'm going to try to do so right now. Okay, here I go. Well, when I was seventeen someone gave me drugs and then had sex with me. When I was eighteen a different person physically held me down and then had sex with me. Doctors have said that I had/have PTSD but I don't know if that is (still) true. I think I have largely moved past these things, but I'm not sure. Sex is still, um, not very fun for me (but that could be a symptom of my depression) and I still feel a lot of self-blame.
The secret goes further, however. The person who gave me drugs and then had sex with me... is S. I know how messed up it is to be "friends" and sleep with the person who assaulted me, but I really don't have any friends so I take anyone who is willing to spend time with me. It's very messed up. The thing is I think he thinks that what happened was consensual when I don't think it was. So he doesn't even know how I feel.
The other day I was at S's house swimming in his pool and somehow the subject of his ex-girlfriend (my ex-best friend who happened to be his girlfriend when the incident happened) came up. He said that she hates us both, and I got really upset. When this happened several years ago S apparently bragged to his friends about what had happened and everyone found out. Because of this everyone in my school thought I was a backstabbing slut and decided to shun me. The loss of all of my friends hurt more than the actual assault. So when S brought up how much his ex-girlfriend hates me it stung; it reminded me of the pain I experienced when all of my friends left me for something that I believe wasn't my fault. (I never wanted to correct them because I felt like what had happened was my business and no one else's-- I didn't feel like I needed to explain myself to anyone.) I still hate to think that there's a person out there who hates me so much, and it brings up the thought that maybe this was consensual and maybe I am a backstabbing slut. And I'll never know the truth about what happened.
I am such a mess.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Joining A Group, Leaving Another
I have a few things to report but I have already taken my night meds so this post may need a follow-up tomorrow. We'll see!
Shrinkiepoo is very big on adding more "eating disorder interventions" to my schedule, and he has recently been urging me to join a group. So I made some calls including one to the office of my ex-therapist D with whom I had broken in 2008. On Tuesday night I got a call from D saying that he (and another therapist) are currently running an eating disorder group and that I would need an intake appointment with him to see if I was still a good fit. (I had been a member of this group a few years ago but removed myself from it because I did not want to recover.) So on Wednesday night my dog and I went to see D for the intake and it went pretty well. It was actually a lot less awkward than I had anticipated. At the end of the session D asked me if I wanted to see him individually again and I told him I would think about it. I'm still not sure because I have not had good experiences with therapy in the past, but it's definitely something that is on my mind.
One thing that D warned me about, however, was that in group they have been talking about a subject that is very painful and uncomfortable for me to talk about. Basically the subject of my secret. So I'm a little nervous about how events will transpire; I want so badly to tell people but I'm so ashamed. I think I will talk a little more about my secret tomorrow, so stay tuned.
In other news, today was my last day of IOP! I am so happy to be leaving them, but I have something to confess: today I added weight to my weigh-in. I made sure to chug a bottle of water beforehand and although they make us use the bathroom before they weigh us (and they check) I somehow faked it and got away with it. My doctor at IOP had said on Wednesday that I wouldn't be able to be discharged unless I reached a certain weight and I just wanted to make sure that I met it (without actually gaining the weight). I know this is bad-- it shows how much my eating disorder can be in charge of things. But I feel like I have no choice, the disease controls me.
I weigh myself compulsively every day. The number means so much to me. Still.
Shrinkiepoo is very big on adding more "eating disorder interventions" to my schedule, and he has recently been urging me to join a group. So I made some calls including one to the office of my ex-therapist D with whom I had broken in 2008. On Tuesday night I got a call from D saying that he (and another therapist) are currently running an eating disorder group and that I would need an intake appointment with him to see if I was still a good fit. (I had been a member of this group a few years ago but removed myself from it because I did not want to recover.) So on Wednesday night my dog and I went to see D for the intake and it went pretty well. It was actually a lot less awkward than I had anticipated. At the end of the session D asked me if I wanted to see him individually again and I told him I would think about it. I'm still not sure because I have not had good experiences with therapy in the past, but it's definitely something that is on my mind.
One thing that D warned me about, however, was that in group they have been talking about a subject that is very painful and uncomfortable for me to talk about. Basically the subject of my secret. So I'm a little nervous about how events will transpire; I want so badly to tell people but I'm so ashamed. I think I will talk a little more about my secret tomorrow, so stay tuned.
In other news, today was my last day of IOP! I am so happy to be leaving them, but I have something to confess: today I added weight to my weigh-in. I made sure to chug a bottle of water beforehand and although they make us use the bathroom before they weigh us (and they check) I somehow faked it and got away with it. My doctor at IOP had said on Wednesday that I wouldn't be able to be discharged unless I reached a certain weight and I just wanted to make sure that I met it (without actually gaining the weight). I know this is bad-- it shows how much my eating disorder can be in charge of things. But I feel like I have no choice, the disease controls me.
I weigh myself compulsively every day. The number means so much to me. Still.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Wicked Little Town (Two Of Two)
Wicked Little Town (Tommy Gnosis Version), Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Forgive me for I did not know
'Cause I was just a boy
You were so much more
Than any god could ever plan
More than a woman or a man
And now I understand how much I took from you
That when everything starts breaking down
You take the pieces off the ground
And show this wicked town
Something beautiful and new
You think that luck has left you there
But maybe there's nothing up in the sky but air
And there's no mystical design
No cosmic lover preassigned
There's nothing you can find that cannot be found
'Cause with all the changes you've been through
It seems the stranger's always you
Alone again in some new wicked little town
When you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town
It's a wicked little town
Goodbye wicked little town
Wicked Little Town (One Of Two)
Wicked Little Town (Hedwig Version), Hedwig and the Angry Inch
(Music begins at 0:57)
You know the sun is in your eyes
And hurricanes and rains
Black and cloudy skies
You're running up and down that hill
You turn it on and off at will
There's nothing here to thrill or bring you down
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town
Oh Lady luck has led you here
And they're so twisted up
They'll twist you up I fear
The pious, hateful and devout
You're turning tricks 'til you're turned out
The wind so cold it burns
You're burning out, blowing round
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town
The fates are vicious and they're cruel
You learned too late you've used two wishes like a fool
And then you're someone you are not
And Junction City ain't the spot
Remember Mrs. Lot when she turned around
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Irritable And Emotional
I have been so irritable today. Irritable and emotional.
My day started out with an early morning session with Shrinkiepoo in which I told him how much I resent him for giving me no choices in the past three months and manipulating me into doing whatever he wants (see this angry rant for further information). I told him that I don't feel like I can tell him anything. He basically dismissed me, admitted to the awkward position he's in (deciding whether or not I can go back to uni in the fall and administering psychiatric treatment), and told me that I don't have to feel this way. I told him that I resent him for forcing me to allow him to talk to my parents, and he said that he has to be able to have communication with my parents to be able to treat me. I asked "Does that mean that if I rescind your permission to talk to my parents you'll dump me?" To which he replied "You're forcing me to answer a question I don't want to answer."
(Oh, and he also said that my doctor from IOP was concerned about my mood last week. To which I replied "Uh, my dog/best friend died on Tuesday." He said "Yes, but..." We were having a phone session, so I wasn't able to knee him in the crotch like I wanted to.)
Then later I had my first appointment with my dietitian-- someone who I have worked with in the past but with whom I haven't met in about two years. We reviewed my meal plan and then told me I needed more fats (i.e., lipids) in my diet. I irrationally burst into tears, telling her that I feel like nothing I do is good enough; not even my meal plan is up to par. Then I was forced/manipulated into being weighed which is REALLY hard for me. She said I would have to be weighed each time I go to her. I just shut down. I have no choice. I have to do whatever she says because she will have contact with Shrinkiepoo (because Shrinkiepoo is forcing me to give him permission to talk with her). And Shrinkiepoo decides my fate.
I should have killed myself back in March. My life is just not worth living.
My day started out with an early morning session with Shrinkiepoo in which I told him how much I resent him for giving me no choices in the past three months and manipulating me into doing whatever he wants (see this angry rant for further information). I told him that I don't feel like I can tell him anything. He basically dismissed me, admitted to the awkward position he's in (deciding whether or not I can go back to uni in the fall and administering psychiatric treatment), and told me that I don't have to feel this way. I told him that I resent him for forcing me to allow him to talk to my parents, and he said that he has to be able to have communication with my parents to be able to treat me. I asked "Does that mean that if I rescind your permission to talk to my parents you'll dump me?" To which he replied "You're forcing me to answer a question I don't want to answer."
(Oh, and he also said that my doctor from IOP was concerned about my mood last week. To which I replied "Uh, my dog/best friend died on Tuesday." He said "Yes, but..." We were having a phone session, so I wasn't able to knee him in the crotch like I wanted to.)
Then later I had my first appointment with my dietitian-- someone who I have worked with in the past but with whom I haven't met in about two years. We reviewed my meal plan and then told me I needed more fats (i.e., lipids) in my diet. I irrationally burst into tears, telling her that I feel like nothing I do is good enough; not even my meal plan is up to par. Then I was forced/manipulated into being weighed which is REALLY hard for me. She said I would have to be weighed each time I go to her. I just shut down. I have no choice. I have to do whatever she says because she will have contact with Shrinkiepoo (because Shrinkiepoo is forcing me to give him permission to talk with her). And Shrinkiepoo decides my fate.
I should have killed myself back in March. My life is just not worth living.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
In Need Of A Release Or Escape
I'm having a bit of a hard time this evening. I desperately want to cry-- I think I need the release-- but I can't seem to muster up any tears. I've been listening to my "Melancholy Mix," a playlist that I made featuring sad and slow songs, but the music just isn't getting me over the hump.
I'm feeling depressed and sad today. I spent the whole day with my dog, sleeping (although I told my parents that I took her to the dog park and later ate out for dinner). I don't know why I'm feeling this way; I think it's just a biological mood swing. Or maybe I didn't take my Wellbutrin this morning. I can't remember.
Now I'm just waiting for my night meds to kick in so I can fall asleep. Sleep is my refuge, my escape, my drug of choice. I consistently pass up social opportunities in order to go to sleep at an early hour-- the earlier I fall asleep, the less I have to face the day. In my sleep I'm not depressed.
I'm feeling depressed and sad today. I spent the whole day with my dog, sleeping (although I told my parents that I took her to the dog park and later ate out for dinner). I don't know why I'm feeling this way; I think it's just a biological mood swing. Or maybe I didn't take my Wellbutrin this morning. I can't remember.
Now I'm just waiting for my night meds to kick in so I can fall asleep. Sleep is my refuge, my escape, my drug of choice. I consistently pass up social opportunities in order to go to sleep at an early hour-- the earlier I fall asleep, the less I have to face the day. In my sleep I'm not depressed.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
A Productive Night
As mentioned yesterday, today was my first day at the diner working for my own tips and things went relatively well! I had a smaller-than-normal-sized section so that I could ease my way into the job so I got fewer tips than the other servers, but overall I'm pretty pleased with how the night went. Maybe this job won't be so bad after all.
One thing that wasn't so great about tonight was the way one of my coworkers treated me. He was way too affectionate-- I think bordering on sexual harassment. He would come up behind me and rub my neck and stand really close. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and I (stupidly) said no. He said that he couldn't believe that because I am so pretty (yeah right). When we were walking to our cars he held my chin like he was going to kiss me but I pushed his hand away. He then asked me for my number and I refused to give it to him. I was really proud of myself for standing up for my personal space. I usually am too timid and meek to stand up for my personal space; I usually let others do whatever they want to me (as evidenced by S). The good news is this coworker's last day is this Wednesday and he's moving back to Mexico so my future contact with him will be very limited.
By the way, I really urge you to listen to the song I posted this morning. It's so beautiful, and I really think what the chorus says is true: "Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away." "Hearts," one's spirit and one's passion, I believe can fade away when in the throes of depression and an eating disorder. It certainly happened to me. And (I've been told) thoughts can fade too; maybe my thoughts about suicide and weight will one day fade away. Maybe I'll regain my spirit and passion. Maybe.
One thing that wasn't so great about tonight was the way one of my coworkers treated me. He was way too affectionate-- I think bordering on sexual harassment. He would come up behind me and rub my neck and stand really close. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and I (stupidly) said no. He said that he couldn't believe that because I am so pretty (yeah right). When we were walking to our cars he held my chin like he was going to kiss me but I pushed his hand away. He then asked me for my number and I refused to give it to him. I was really proud of myself for standing up for my personal space. I usually am too timid and meek to stand up for my personal space; I usually let others do whatever they want to me (as evidenced by S). The good news is this coworker's last day is this Wednesday and he's moving back to Mexico so my future contact with him will be very limited.
By the way, I really urge you to listen to the song I posted this morning. It's so beautiful, and I really think what the chorus says is true: "Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away." "Hearts," one's spirit and one's passion, I believe can fade away when in the throes of depression and an eating disorder. It certainly happened to me. And (I've been told) thoughts can fade too; maybe my thoughts about suicide and weight will one day fade away. Maybe I'll regain my spirit and passion. Maybe.
Hearts And Thoughts They Fade
Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town, Pearl Jam
I seem to recognize your face
Haunting, familiar, yet I can't seem to place it
Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name
Lifetimes are catching up with me
All these changes taking place, I wish I'd seen the place
But no one's ever taken me
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away
I swear I recognize your breath
Memories like fingerprints are slowly raising
Me, you wouldn't recall, for I'm not my former
It's hard when you're stuck upon the shelf
I changed by not changing at all
Small town predicts my fate
Perhaps that's what no one wants to see
I just want to scream "hello!"
My god its been so long, never dreamed you'd return
But now here you are and here I am
Hearts and thoughts they fade away
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
Friday, June 11, 2010
Begin Angry Rant:
I'm an angry NOS today.
I had IOP today and as soon as I walked in I asked if today could be my last day. Two weeks ago they had said that it would be, but on Tuesday they had said that they want me to stay another week and I was not liking the latter stance. I am just so sick of going there and listening to teenagers' problems, I don't get anything out of the groups, and I really don't think that another week is justifiable. The response I got from my therapist was "You can leave any time you want. You're free to go. But we're recommending you stay another week." Which roughly translates to "NOS, you're being manipulated into staying because if you leave against medical advice Shrinkiepoo won't let you go back to uni in the fall." My therapist wanted to know why I suddenly wanted to bolt and I told her the above reasons which were apparently not good enough for her. So then I shut down-- I just said that I had nothing left to say because my thoughts don't matter and left it at that. I know another week at IOP only means another two days, but it's excruciating. I was so angry.
After IOP I went to my job to pick up my paycheck and got another lovely surprise: they only paid me for about 2/3 of the hours I worked and was given only $2 per hour when I was promised more for my training hours. So I called the diner and told them about the mistake, but the manager said that he doesn't deal with the payroll and I had to wait until Monday to talk to the other manager. I have decided I hate that job. And I have a shift on Saturday night (and I was never trained for nights so it will likely be a disaster). But I have to stick with it because Shrinkiepoo says it's a good way for him to see how I handle pressure so he can make an informed decision when it comes to uni.
Excuse my language, but this is such bullshit. It's the principle of the thing: in the past three months I have been manipulated into going to the hospital, leaving uni, undergoing ECT (which was likely the worst experience of my life), attending PHP and IOP, having Shrinkiepoo talk to my parents, going to a dietitian, and staying at a job I hate. I am so sick of doing things just to please other people. And by other people I mean my doctors.
I think I'm going to break up with Shrinkiepoo in the fall (if I go back to uni). I feel like he has ruined our relationship-- I can no longer be truthful with him because the truth is punished. And it's a shame, because he is the best psychiatrist I've ever been to. But the relationship is shot, and it's not likely going to be repaired.
/end angry rant.
I had IOP today and as soon as I walked in I asked if today could be my last day. Two weeks ago they had said that it would be, but on Tuesday they had said that they want me to stay another week and I was not liking the latter stance. I am just so sick of going there and listening to teenagers' problems, I don't get anything out of the groups, and I really don't think that another week is justifiable. The response I got from my therapist was "You can leave any time you want. You're free to go. But we're recommending you stay another week." Which roughly translates to "NOS, you're being manipulated into staying because if you leave against medical advice Shrinkiepoo won't let you go back to uni in the fall." My therapist wanted to know why I suddenly wanted to bolt and I told her the above reasons which were apparently not good enough for her. So then I shut down-- I just said that I had nothing left to say because my thoughts don't matter and left it at that. I know another week at IOP only means another two days, but it's excruciating. I was so angry.
After IOP I went to my job to pick up my paycheck and got another lovely surprise: they only paid me for about 2/3 of the hours I worked and was given only $2 per hour when I was promised more for my training hours. So I called the diner and told them about the mistake, but the manager said that he doesn't deal with the payroll and I had to wait until Monday to talk to the other manager. I have decided I hate that job. And I have a shift on Saturday night (and I was never trained for nights so it will likely be a disaster). But I have to stick with it because Shrinkiepoo says it's a good way for him to see how I handle pressure so he can make an informed decision when it comes to uni.
Excuse my language, but this is such bullshit. It's the principle of the thing: in the past three months I have been manipulated into going to the hospital, leaving uni, undergoing ECT (which was likely the worst experience of my life), attending PHP and IOP, having Shrinkiepoo talk to my parents, going to a dietitian, and staying at a job I hate. I am so sick of doing things just to please other people. And by other people I mean my doctors.
I think I'm going to break up with Shrinkiepoo in the fall (if I go back to uni). I feel like he has ruined our relationship-- I can no longer be truthful with him because the truth is punished. And it's a shame, because he is the best psychiatrist I've ever been to. But the relationship is shot, and it's not likely going to be repaired.
/end angry rant.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Grieving Day Two
Golden Girls Theme (my favorite show)
I want to thank you all for your outpouring of support for me today and yesterday. It makes the grieving process a lot easier when you know there are people who are and who are pulling for you.
I still miss my puppy so much; I've come across his harness and leash today and it breaks my heart to see artifacts from his life. There is certainly a void in my home and in my heart. I have to keep reminding myself that he is no longer suffering, but I can't help but feeling like we betrayed him by putting him to sleep. He trusted us, you know? Animals live and die at the mercy of the people who take care of them-- it doesn't seem fair that they have so little control of their lives. But it comforts me to know that the people who took care of my baby (i.e., me and my family) gave him the life of a king. My only hope is that he was happy.
I still miss my puppy so much; I've come across his harness and leash today and it breaks my heart to see artifacts from his life. There is certainly a void in my home and in my heart. I have to keep reminding myself that he is no longer suffering, but I can't help but feeling like we betrayed him by putting him to sleep. He trusted us, you know? Animals live and die at the mercy of the people who take care of them-- it doesn't seem fair that they have so little control of their lives. But it comforts me to know that the people who took care of my baby (i.e., me and my family) gave him the life of a king. My only hope is that he was happy.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
RIP My Baby
Today my mom put my older dog to sleep. He had been sick a few weeks ago, but then the vet put him on steroids and he was back to his old self. Last night he collapsed, vomited, and became so weak that he couldn't move (I was asleep when all of this happened-- I learned this from my mom). He finally fell asleep, but in the morning he woke up still unable to move. My mom carried him downstairs from where he slept and I woke up to see her carry his limp body into the den (where I sleep). I went to IOP, and my mom took my baby to the vet where they concluded that the problem was in his brain and that he was dying. The vets and my mom decided euthanasia was best. He was 13.5 years old.
I miss him so much; my life won't be the same without him. He was such a good boy-- calm, loving, and friendly. He had been my best friend since I was eight years old. When I came home from IOP there was a void: he was not there to greet me as he usually was. I understand he was in pain and that now he is (hopefully) resting peacefully, but I can't help but think that we betrayed him by putting him to sleep. And where his pain ends, mine begins.
I wanted him to outlive me.
I miss him so much; my life won't be the same without him. He was such a good boy-- calm, loving, and friendly. He had been my best friend since I was eight years old. When I came home from IOP there was a void: he was not there to greet me as he usually was. I understand he was in pain and that now he is (hopefully) resting peacefully, but I can't help but think that we betrayed him by putting him to sleep. And where his pain ends, mine begins.
I wanted him to outlive me.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Not A Very Eventful Three Days
I don't have much to say today. I had four hours of working at the diner today, and things went... okay. Not as great as they were last Wednesday, but pretty decent nonetheless. The good news is I'm finally done with training and will be working my own tables from now on. Which means I get to keep the tips! (Up until now, I've been working tables but I haven't been able to keep any of the tips-- I have to give them to the person who is training me. Completely unfair. I think I should at least get a cut!)
My mood has been decent, still slightly depressed however, even though my weekend was very empty-- I had to lie to my parents and tell them I was going out to dinner with a friend on Sunday night because I didn't want them to think that I stayed on the couch all day. I think the increase in my Wellbutrin may have actually had an effect. It's interesting-- before ECT no drug worked for me, but now I think I can feel a change. Maybe it wasn't so useless after all?
My mood has been decent, still slightly depressed however, even though my weekend was very empty-- I had to lie to my parents and tell them I was going out to dinner with a friend on Sunday night because I didn't want them to think that I stayed on the couch all day. I think the increase in my Wellbutrin may have actually had an effect. It's interesting-- before ECT no drug worked for me, but now I think I can feel a change. Maybe it wasn't so useless after all?
Sleep Pretty Darling Do Not Cry
Golden Slumbers, The Beatles
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Golden slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Summer 2005
A photo I took in IsraelThat summer I spent two weeks with my Best-Friend-At-The-Time and her family in Israel. Her father is Israeli and they have an apartment in Tel Aviv, right on the beach, at which they stay each summer. Because they were going anyway, I just tagged along.
When I was there I would wake up every morning, put on my makeup, and walk with Best-Friend-At-The Time to the beach where we would have shocho cham, or in English hot chocolate, and some fruit. At lunch and dinner I would eat whatever I wanted-- it usually involved hummus, however. I don't remember caring about calories at all.
Even now that I am eating healthfully I am still hyper-aware of the caloric content of food. And I'm afraid of food that has high caloric density or high calories in general. It's like the eating disorder triggered something in my brain that can't be turned off.
I want it to end so badly. I want to return to the summer of 2005 when my eating was in order and I did not have to live with this disease. I wonder if I'll ever get there.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Worry Worry Worry
I can't stop being anxious. My doctor at IOP says I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder because I always have an anxious fixation. And I think now that I am (for the most part) not acting on eating disordered behavior my OCD and anxiety have flared up with a vengeance.
The pattern is I have is to obsess about one anxiety-provoking thing; let's take, for example, getting permission to go back to uni. For a long time all I could think about was whether Shrinkiepoo will let me go back (and to a large extent I still do). I engage in magical thinking: I think that if I worry about something enough it will turn out well. If I worry about something, I can control it (in my head). I know this is completely irrational, but I really can't help it. As soon as I get a relief from the anxiety, say Shrinkiepoo says things are looking good for my return, I start to worry and obsess about something new: whether I'll be able to get into the classes that I want. And worries and obsessions just keep on replacing worries and obsessions and I never get a break. It's a cycle of anxiety.
One current topic of worry is housing at uni. Today I filled out and faxed in an application for dorm housing, but I have to get Shrinkiepoo to fill out a form that says I have a medical need for a suitemate/roommate (so I don't isolate as much). I worry that Shrinkiepoo didn't get the form I faxed over to him. I'm worried he won't send the form to uni in time. I'm worried that I won't get any of the dorms I requested.
Worry worry worry. The story of my life.
The pattern is I have is to obsess about one anxiety-provoking thing; let's take, for example, getting permission to go back to uni. For a long time all I could think about was whether Shrinkiepoo will let me go back (and to a large extent I still do). I engage in magical thinking: I think that if I worry about something enough it will turn out well. If I worry about something, I can control it (in my head). I know this is completely irrational, but I really can't help it. As soon as I get a relief from the anxiety, say Shrinkiepoo says things are looking good for my return, I start to worry and obsess about something new: whether I'll be able to get into the classes that I want. And worries and obsessions just keep on replacing worries and obsessions and I never get a break. It's a cycle of anxiety.
One current topic of worry is housing at uni. Today I filled out and faxed in an application for dorm housing, but I have to get Shrinkiepoo to fill out a form that says I have a medical need for a suitemate/roommate (so I don't isolate as much). I worry that Shrinkiepoo didn't get the form I faxed over to him. I'm worried he won't send the form to uni in time. I'm worried that I won't get any of the dorms I requested.
Worry worry worry. The story of my life.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Doing... Alright
Late last night I went over my "friend" S's house to go swimming. I wore a two-piece bathing suit which was really challenging and anxiety provoking, but I did it! I had a good time and remembered how much I like to swim. I'm hoping to go back and do that again sometime soon. The one thing is that I know S wants to have sex with me (again) but I'm really not interested in that. I don't enjoy it at all-- I just do it so he's happy. But I want so badly to be a normal twenty-something year old I do it anyway. I guess my self-respect is not that developed yet.
This morning I had a phone session with Shrinkiepoo and I told him that I was nervous that if I was honest with him he would take uni away from me. He told me he'd rather me be honest, so I told him that I've recently had some "down days." He upped my dose of Wellbutrin. I didn't tell him that I've had a lot of suicidal thoughts because he said that that would stop me from going to uni. I still feel like our relationship is shot. Can I ever be 100% honest with him again? And if I can't be honest, can I get the help that I really need?
Today I also went to work at the diner and things went really well! I'm feeling more confident than I was on my first day about my ability to function at this job. I'm going back for (I think) my last day of training tomorrow.
As you can see, things have been going pretty well for me lately, but as I said yesterday I'm still not committed to living. I wish that I didn't think about dying so much. I don't think it's normal or healthy. I want it to stop but fear it won't.
This morning I had a phone session with Shrinkiepoo and I told him that I was nervous that if I was honest with him he would take uni away from me. He told me he'd rather me be honest, so I told him that I've recently had some "down days." He upped my dose of Wellbutrin. I didn't tell him that I've had a lot of suicidal thoughts because he said that that would stop me from going to uni. I still feel like our relationship is shot. Can I ever be 100% honest with him again? And if I can't be honest, can I get the help that I really need?
Today I also went to work at the diner and things went really well! I'm feeling more confident than I was on my first day about my ability to function at this job. I'm going back for (I think) my last day of training tomorrow.
As you can see, things have been going pretty well for me lately, but as I said yesterday I'm still not committed to living. I wish that I didn't think about dying so much. I don't think it's normal or healthy. I want it to stop but fear it won't.
You're My Sunshine
You're My Best Friend, Queen
Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It's you, you're all I see
Ooh, you make me live now honey
Ooh, you make me live
You're the best friend that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine and I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
You're my best friend
Ooh, you make me live
Ooh, I've been wandering 'round
But I still come back to you
In rain or shine you've stood by me, girl
I'm happy at home
You're my best friend
Ooh, you make me live
Whenever this world is cruel to me
I got you to help me forgive
Ooh, you make me live now honey
Ooh, you make me live
You're the first one when things turn out bad
You know I'll never be lonely
You're my only one and I love the things
I really love the things that you do
You're my best friend
Ooh, you make me live
I'm happy at home
You're my best friend
You're my best friend
Ooh, you make me live
You, you're my best friend
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Good Weekend, Feeling Down
Memorial Day weekend was pretty fun for me. On Saturday I took my younger dog for a hike and it was so relaxing and calming that I've wanted to go every day since then but the weather hasn't been cooperating (either it's way too hot for my dog or it's raining). On Sunday my (younger) cousins were staying over, so my mom and I took them to the zoo. The zoo was horrible-- in 90% of the exhibits there was only one animal so I imagine them to be extremely lonely. But otherwise it was nice to walk around. On Monday I went into the city to see Sex and the City 2 with my sisters. The movie was horrible, but it was nice getting to see my middle sister's (A's) new apartment and going out to dinner at an Israeli restaurant for dinner.
Actually, dinner was incredible. Firstly, I love Israeli/Mediterranean food. Secondly, my sisters and I got a combination platter and shared it and it felt so normal. I was hungry and ate until I was full. That's really hard for a person with an eating disorder (me) to do.
But despite the good weekend, I'm feeling depressed. Every time I go to IOP I end up crying. It's so embarrassing! I don't even know why I cry so much. I think I just don't get to release any emotion at home because I have to put on a happy face so I can go back to uni. My individual therapist asked me what would I do once I get discharged from the program (likely next week!) for an outlet, and I had no answer. I feel like my relationship with Shrinkiepoo is shot. I feel like I can't tell him the truth for the same reason I can't tell my parents I'm depressed. I have a session with him tomorrow and I think I will tell him this. I hope I'm not shooting myself in the foot.
On second thought, maybe I won't tell him. Do you see my predicament?
Recently I've been feeling like I want to die. My life isn't as bad as it was back in March, but I just don't want to live. Sometimes I look at myself and wish I were an animal. Being born a human is a burden I didn't ask for. I also wish I lived in the 1700s when the life expectancy was in the 30s. Living until I'm in my 80s or 90s is something I just don't want to do.
Actually, dinner was incredible. Firstly, I love Israeli/Mediterranean food. Secondly, my sisters and I got a combination platter and shared it and it felt so normal. I was hungry and ate until I was full. That's really hard for a person with an eating disorder (me) to do.
But despite the good weekend, I'm feeling depressed. Every time I go to IOP I end up crying. It's so embarrassing! I don't even know why I cry so much. I think I just don't get to release any emotion at home because I have to put on a happy face so I can go back to uni. My individual therapist asked me what would I do once I get discharged from the program (likely next week!) for an outlet, and I had no answer. I feel like my relationship with Shrinkiepoo is shot. I feel like I can't tell him the truth for the same reason I can't tell my parents I'm depressed. I have a session with him tomorrow and I think I will tell him this. I hope I'm not shooting myself in the foot.
On second thought, maybe I won't tell him. Do you see my predicament?
Recently I've been feeling like I want to die. My life isn't as bad as it was back in March, but I just don't want to live. Sometimes I look at myself and wish I were an animal. Being born a human is a burden I didn't ask for. I also wish I lived in the 1700s when the life expectancy was in the 30s. Living until I'm in my 80s or 90s is something I just don't want to do.
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