As I mentioned this morning, I haven't had a great few days. Firstly, in the last 48 hours I have had 4 hours of sleep. Four hours. This morning I was literally in pain from fatigue. It was hard to move from the couch (I sleep on the couch-- or actually, in this case, I don't sleep on the couch), but I managed to get myself to the gym today, hoping that I would tired myself out. I could only manage 15 minutes of exercise. If I don't sleep tonight I don't know what I will do. I told Dr. N about my sleep problem and my chronic severe fatigue, but she didn't change my medicine because it's possible that I have a heart arrhythmia due to my eating disorder and the meds I'm already on. So tomorrow I have to make an appointment to have an EKG done. I really hope it comes back normal because I need to sleep/not be horizontal all day.
Anyway, I actually have a few plans lined up for this week. Tomorrow my friend KS is throwing herself a goodbye party because she has found a job in a state across the country and is moving there on Tuesday. She invited me and about 14 others on Facebook-- and from the guest list I only know two of the guests. Unfortunately, one of the guests I know is one of the girls that dumped me after I was raped my senior year of high school (for a brief explanation see my Friday post). I am really anxious about seeing her-- I know she judges me. But as SH said, hopefully she has grown up.
Speaking of SH (one of my friends from treatment), I'm really worried about her. Two weeks ago she was in a very deep depression and feeling intense urges to hurt herself. Then last week she texted me telling me she was feeling so happy and that she was considering stopping treatment because she was doing so well. She said her therapist said she was manic, and from the conversations I've had with SH I agree. She said she's having "strange thoughts" (I don't know what that means) and that she's afraid of telling her therapist and psychiatrist about them because she's afraid they are going to "take away her feelings." She sounded extremely paranoid-- like she was having psychotic paranoid delusions. I don't know what to do. I urged her to tell her treatment team about what's been going on with her, but I don't know if she will listen to me. I'm so worried.
Back to my plans for this week. I am also supposedly having playdates (yes, I'm 23 years old and I still call them playdates) with ES, my friend from high school, and SS, another friend from treatment, sometime over the next few days. Making plans in advance and seeing people both make me anxious, but I haven't seen ES in about two years and SS is going back to treatment at the end of the week so I kind of feel boxed into the plans. I also don't want to be fat when I see ES because she has an eating disorder as well and the last time I saw her she was really underweight, and being around underweight people makes me really self-conscious and I end up feeling really badly about myself. But apparently she's been functioning at college so maybe she's in recovery? I hope so.
I don't have many friends, but the ones I do have I love and value very much.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Pivotal Moment
I'm continuing to have a really hard time with body image. No news there.
I had an appointment today with Dr. N, my psychiatrist, and it was really tough. She's also a psychoanalyst so she always touches on something deep and upsetting. First we talked about how I live my life in a "cocoon". She pointed out the fact that I choose to isolate myself from people and I'm afraid to do anything that is outside my comfort zone. Then, because she is a psychoanalyst and psychoanalysts love connecting everything to sex, she said that I especially close myself off from and seem afraid of guys and sex.
At that moment something clicked. For the longest time I have denied that being raped my senior year of high school had much of an effect on me. But maybe that was the pivotal moment that changed it all. I have been depressed since I was eight, but I haven't always been this isolative-- that didn't start until more recently. I guess it's possible that being raped caused me to be afraid of people. And the aftermath of the rape (The guy who raped me was dating one of my best friends. The guy later bragged to someone that he had sex with me, and word got around that I was a homewrecker and a whore. Although people asked me what happened I never told anyone that I was raped because, frankly, it's no one's business. So all of my best friend's mutual friends left me en masse.) frightened me even more-- I didn't know I was so disposable. So I guess it's possible that after this event I built my cocoon and have inhabited it ever since.
I started to cry and I told Dr. N that she was missing a big part of the picture (she doesn't know about the rapes) but that I didn't want to talk about it.
Then we started talking about Dr. E, my other psychiatrist, and how he's completely afraid of me. He thinks that because I have been medically (physically) unstable before, I've attempted suicide before, and because I have an eating disorder and am taking Wellbutrin (because apparently eating disorders + Wellbutrin = seizures) that I am a walking liability that needs to be closely monitored. Dr. N said that he was probably afraid of me because I'm "a big, bad borderline". Now, both Dr. N and D have formally diagnosed me as having borderline personality disorder, but I disagree. But I guess my opinion doesn't really matter in this case. But if I do have BPD and doctors are afraid of it (except, I guess, for Dr. N) how am I supposed to get adequate treatment?
I had an appointment today with Dr. N, my psychiatrist, and it was really tough. She's also a psychoanalyst so she always touches on something deep and upsetting. First we talked about how I live my life in a "cocoon". She pointed out the fact that I choose to isolate myself from people and I'm afraid to do anything that is outside my comfort zone. Then, because she is a psychoanalyst and psychoanalysts love connecting everything to sex, she said that I especially close myself off from and seem afraid of guys and sex.
At that moment something clicked. For the longest time I have denied that being raped my senior year of high school had much of an effect on me. But maybe that was the pivotal moment that changed it all. I have been depressed since I was eight, but I haven't always been this isolative-- that didn't start until more recently. I guess it's possible that being raped caused me to be afraid of people. And the aftermath of the rape (The guy who raped me was dating one of my best friends. The guy later bragged to someone that he had sex with me, and word got around that I was a homewrecker and a whore. Although people asked me what happened I never told anyone that I was raped because, frankly, it's no one's business. So all of my best friend's mutual friends left me en masse.) frightened me even more-- I didn't know I was so disposable. So I guess it's possible that after this event I built my cocoon and have inhabited it ever since.
I started to cry and I told Dr. N that she was missing a big part of the picture (she doesn't know about the rapes) but that I didn't want to talk about it.
Then we started talking about Dr. E, my other psychiatrist, and how he's completely afraid of me. He thinks that because I have been medically (physically) unstable before, I've attempted suicide before, and because I have an eating disorder and am taking Wellbutrin (because apparently eating disorders + Wellbutrin = seizures) that I am a walking liability that needs to be closely monitored. Dr. N said that he was probably afraid of me because I'm "a big, bad borderline". Now, both Dr. N and D have formally diagnosed me as having borderline personality disorder, but I disagree. But I guess my opinion doesn't really matter in this case. But if I do have BPD and doctors are afraid of it (except, I guess, for Dr. N) how am I supposed to get adequate treatment?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Combating Fatigue
Eating has gotten a lot better-- I have been able to follow my meal plan for two days in a row. My body image is still atrocious, but I'm trying not to let that change my behavior.
My mood, however, has been pretty low. And as a result, so has my energy level. Over the past week or two I have felt worn out from spending the day lying down, and it's kind of a problem. I have an appointment with Dr. N, my psychiatrist, tomorrow, and I'm definitely going to bring this up. Nonetheless, today I tried to counter the fatigue by exercising, thinking that maybe if I get the ball rolling the energy would come, but it didn't help. Today I bought a gym membership for the month of August so hopefully Dr. N will help me with my energy level and I will be able to exercise more (but a healthy amount).
After running this morning my parents and I went into the city to meet my sisters for lunch. The food wasn't actually too much of an issue because the menu had the caloric content of the food written next to each item. One thing that was an issue, however, was that I felt really out of place with my sisters. Clearly A and M are closer to each other than either of them are to me. But when I'm around them I feel like they see me as a child and it makes me feel badly about myself. I felt really uncomfortable and stupid. A and I used to gchat a lot, but recently we haven't spoken at all. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I'm feeling increasingly isolated from my sisters and my family, and it doesn't feel very good.
My mood, however, has been pretty low. And as a result, so has my energy level. Over the past week or two I have felt worn out from spending the day lying down, and it's kind of a problem. I have an appointment with Dr. N, my psychiatrist, tomorrow, and I'm definitely going to bring this up. Nonetheless, today I tried to counter the fatigue by exercising, thinking that maybe if I get the ball rolling the energy would come, but it didn't help. Today I bought a gym membership for the month of August so hopefully Dr. N will help me with my energy level and I will be able to exercise more (but a healthy amount).
After running this morning my parents and I went into the city to meet my sisters for lunch. The food wasn't actually too much of an issue because the menu had the caloric content of the food written next to each item. One thing that was an issue, however, was that I felt really out of place with my sisters. Clearly A and M are closer to each other than either of them are to me. But when I'm around them I feel like they see me as a child and it makes me feel badly about myself. I felt really uncomfortable and stupid. A and I used to gchat a lot, but recently we haven't spoken at all. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I'm feeling increasingly isolated from my sisters and my family, and it doesn't feel very good.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Terrifying Number
I had a hard time writing a post last night. I don't have much to say because I've been struggling with the same thing all week: body image.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my dietitian in the evening, and our deal was that if I needed a "reality check" that I wasn't gaining weight like crazy with our new, bigger meal plan I could weigh myself the morning of our sessions. So I did, and the number was terrifying. I therefore restricted all yesterday.
During our session, I told the dietitian the news about my weight, and after doing a few computations she told me that it was impossible for the weight I had gained to be "true" weight gain-- it was probably glycogen weight and premenstrual bloating. (On that last point, I'm on birth control and my period-- that is, if I get it again-- isn't due until next Thursday or Friday. I asked her how long before the actual period premenstrual bloating could occur, and she says it can vary from zero days to a week and a half. I'm not sure if I believe that; I think she was trying to keep me off the ledge.) She made me promise that last night I would resume eating my meal plan and stop restricting for the rest of the evening, and even though I agreed to do so I knew I wouldn't.
I stepped on the scale this morning, and the number was much more tolerable. I know this is bad and not recovery-oriented, but I want to get back to the number I was at before I went to Israel, and if that requires me to restrict then that is what I will do. (I just want to assure you, though, that this number is within my healthy weight range.) My weight clearly holds so much power over me. I think my obsession over numbers will be one of the last things to go.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my dietitian in the evening, and our deal was that if I needed a "reality check" that I wasn't gaining weight like crazy with our new, bigger meal plan I could weigh myself the morning of our sessions. So I did, and the number was terrifying. I therefore restricted all yesterday.
During our session, I told the dietitian the news about my weight, and after doing a few computations she told me that it was impossible for the weight I had gained to be "true" weight gain-- it was probably glycogen weight and premenstrual bloating. (On that last point, I'm on birth control and my period-- that is, if I get it again-- isn't due until next Thursday or Friday. I asked her how long before the actual period premenstrual bloating could occur, and she says it can vary from zero days to a week and a half. I'm not sure if I believe that; I think she was trying to keep me off the ledge.) She made me promise that last night I would resume eating my meal plan and stop restricting for the rest of the evening, and even though I agreed to do so I knew I wouldn't.
I stepped on the scale this morning, and the number was much more tolerable. I know this is bad and not recovery-oriented, but I want to get back to the number I was at before I went to Israel, and if that requires me to restrict then that is what I will do. (I just want to assure you, though, that this number is within my healthy weight range.) My weight clearly holds so much power over me. I think my obsession over numbers will be one of the last things to go.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Ready To Fire
Yesterday I had an appointment with D and I was in a BAD MOOD. Firstly, he was 25 minutes late to the appointment-- as he came out of his office I was dialing his number so I could leave a message saying that it was ridiculous to have to wait almost a half hour and that I was going home. I also had some bones to pick with him about how he handled group on Saturday. So I went into his office armed and ready to fire (figuratively).
At first I expressed my anger with his lateness. If D was never late and he was late for the first time on Sunday I wouldn't have been angry, but he does that all the time. He said that he had an emergency that he had to take care of. I understand that a client in crisis should take precedence over a client not in crisis, but I told him that he could have and should have at least texted me telling me he was going to be late.
Then I told him that he allowed way too much triggering talk in group on Saturday. I told him that I thought it was bullshit that he was encouraging a person who was physically unstable and using behaviors daily to not go to treatment. I told him that I could not be in a group if the group chooses to frame eating disorders as a matter of weight only. I told him that I wasn't going to go back to group until the person who was responsible for triggering me went to treatment or got her act together (admittedly this is slightly childish, but I am just trying to protect myself from being severely triggered again).
D said that when I express my anger to him it hits him harder than when other clients express their anger. He said that my anger is basically disappointment with him, and he feels guilty for disappointing me. I thought that was kind of funny-- I guess my parent's guilt-tripping skills have rubbed off on me.
At first I expressed my anger with his lateness. If D was never late and he was late for the first time on Sunday I wouldn't have been angry, but he does that all the time. He said that he had an emergency that he had to take care of. I understand that a client in crisis should take precedence over a client not in crisis, but I told him that he could have and should have at least texted me telling me he was going to be late.
Then I told him that he allowed way too much triggering talk in group on Saturday. I told him that I thought it was bullshit that he was encouraging a person who was physically unstable and using behaviors daily to not go to treatment. I told him that I could not be in a group if the group chooses to frame eating disorders as a matter of weight only. I told him that I wasn't going to go back to group until the person who was responsible for triggering me went to treatment or got her act together (admittedly this is slightly childish, but I am just trying to protect myself from being severely triggered again).
D said that when I express my anger to him it hits him harder than when other clients express their anger. He said that my anger is basically disappointment with him, and he feels guilty for disappointing me. I thought that was kind of funny-- I guess my parent's guilt-tripping skills have rubbed off on me.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Fragile
Today was not a good day. As I mentioned earlier, I've been having a lot of trouble with body image, and today was exceptionally bad. It didn't help that I had group today. Because of a lot of absences, there were three girls in the group-- myself and two others. These two others, however, are walking skeletons so I was the fattest person in the room. That didn't help. Also, one of them could only talk about weight the entire time-- instead of saying she was "having a hard time" or "using more behaviors" or anything like that, she said "I lost weight" and "I'm losing weight" and "I can't gain weight". Weight, weight, weight. It made me feel like in her opinion weight is all there is to an eating disorder. And if that's true, then that means I don't have an eating disorder.
I want to be sick again. I want to be as fragile physically as I am emotionally. The only time anyone in my "real" life has ever expressed care, concern, or love for me has been when I was underweight. I want that back.
I want to be sick again. I want to be as fragile physically as I am emotionally. The only time anyone in my "real" life has ever expressed care, concern, or love for me has been when I was underweight. I want that back.
Tug Of War
Until Wednesday, I had been following the meal plan my new dietitian had given me. It was incredibly difficult, but at the same time it self safe-- safer than restricting and/or purging. Then on Wednesday I had a phone session with my dietitian and she increased my meal plan again. I followed the plan on Thursday, but I was freaking out in my head the entire time. Then yesterday I decided I was going to restrict (because I always come up with the best ideas), but by the time lunch came around I decided to get back on track. So that means I have been following my meal plan since Monday. This might be the longest stretch of doing so since May.
But even though the behaviors have been absent, the thoughts are driving me crazy. I haven't weighed myself in a while, and I'm not planning on weighing myself (or ever getting weighed) ever, ever again. Not because I'm not concerned about weight, but because I'm terrified of what the scale will show.
And my body image is playing tricks on me. It seems from my reflection that I haven't gained weight, but at the same time I feel like my clothes are fitting differently.
Also, to make matters worse, last month I got my period-- the first time in over a year. What that means to me is that I'm fat.
So I'm being pulled back in the direction of my eating disorder-- I want to lose weight. But at the same time I want to get better. Agh! It's like there's a game of tug of war being played in my brain.
But even though the behaviors have been absent, the thoughts are driving me crazy. I haven't weighed myself in a while, and I'm not planning on weighing myself (or ever getting weighed) ever, ever again. Not because I'm not concerned about weight, but because I'm terrified of what the scale will show.
And my body image is playing tricks on me. It seems from my reflection that I haven't gained weight, but at the same time I feel like my clothes are fitting differently.
Also, to make matters worse, last month I got my period-- the first time in over a year. What that means to me is that I'm fat.
So I'm being pulled back in the direction of my eating disorder-- I want to lose weight. But at the same time I want to get better. Agh! It's like there's a game of tug of war being played in my brain.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Notifying My Boss
Because I came home from uni this week, I had to notify my work boss that I would not be able to complete my commitment to the lab this summer. I did NOT want to do this. As you may or may not remember, I met with my boss (the professor in charge of the lab) at the beginning of the spring semester to evaluate to see if I could return to the lab because I had left her in the lurch twice before because of my medical leaves. She asked me what makes me think that I won't relapse again, and I told her that at that time I had been eating for about 6 months straight and I haven't eaten for 6 months straight since I was 16. Thus I was feeling extremely ashamed to have to confess that, once again, my eating disorder has taken over my life. I was also terrified that I would disappoint my boss and the lab manager and that I would be fired. So I sent this email:
Dear [Boss] and [Lab Manager],
It pains me a lot to have to write this letter, but I think it's important to tell you the truth. [Boss], as you know, for the past several years I have been struggling with an eating disorder, and although I had an excellent spring semester things have not gone as well this summer. My doctors and I have decided that it would be safest for me to go home to [insert NOS's home state here] so I can be more closely monitored. Therefore I will not be able to work in the lab for the rest of the summer. As of now I'm planning to return to [uni] in the fall and I would be more than happy to resume working then. But I completely understand if you decide that that's not a good idea.
I cannot express how sorry and how ashamed I feel to have to leave you in the lurch again. You both have treated me so well, and I appreciate everything you have ever done for me. But I need to take care of my physical and mental health.
Thank you both for your understanding of this situation.
NOS
I got these two letters in reply:
Hi NOS,
I’m so sorry to hear that things have gotten worse this summer, and I’m glad you’re making your health your first priority.
[Lab Manager] and I have both appreciated your thoughtful contributions and how hard you have worked to make our research a success. If you would like to return to the lab in the Fall, we would be very happy to have you.
If you choose to return, I want to make sure that it’s because you want to, and not because you feel obligated to do so. As we have discussed before, I also want to encourage you to pursue additional research experiences beyond our lab, both to round out your research skills and to ensure the strongest possible letters of recommendation for the next stage of your career. All of this is to say that I see you as an asset to our lab and would like to have you back, but that I also want you to consider what is in your own long-term best interest.
Once you know for sure whether you’d like to return to the lab this Fall, please let me know. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you have any questions or would like to discuss this further.
Wishing you all the best,[Boss]
Hi NOS,
I'm so sorry to hear that things aren't going well for you, and I'm glad you're taking care of yourself. It sounds like going home is the right decision for you right now.
We'll miss you in the lab, but we'll make do, so don't worry about that. Just focus on getting better. I actually had to leave school early my freshman year of college due to a mental health issue, so I definitely understand the boat you're in. If you ever want to talk about it, I'd be happy to get together in the Fall.
We'd love to have you back in the Fall, so just let us know what your plans are. No pressure. Do what's best for you.
Good luck with the rest of the summer.
Wishing you all the best,
[Lab Manager]
This was possibly the best outcome that could have happened. They understand. They have appreciated my work. They have given me the choice of coming back or not coming back to the lab in September. But most of all they understand. I still feel ashamed that I had to leave in the first place, but maybe, just maybe, my life is not in complete shambles.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Sorry, Shrinkiepoo
D and I have been trying to get in contact with Shrinkiepoo, my previous psychiatrist, for a long time. I wanted D to tell him how much the ECT affected me. We wanted to let him know how being forced to have a procedure done to my body that I absolutely did not want to have happen "revictimized" me-- it brought up thoughts associated with being raped. In fact, I would have to say that being forced to undergo ECT was more traumatic for me than the rapes because Shrinkiepoo was supposed to be helping me; I trusted him. I didn't want to call him myself because I thought he was going to justify his actions and I do not want to hear why he did this to me. Rapists have reasons for their actions too, but no justification would make it okay to sexually assault someone. I feel it's the same in my situation.
(I want to take a moment here to say that I'm not minimizing the horror of rape-- I'm trying to express that for me ECT was just as horrifying. I've experienced both.)
So after literally trying to get in touch with him since January, D finally had a phone conversation with Shrinkiepoo and told him what I wanted him to. And you know what Shrinkiepoo's response was? "Forcing NOS to undergo ECT was probably the hardest clinical decision I've ever had to make." WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? I'm sorry, Shrinkiepoo, that this was so hard for you. I hope this decision didn't make you burst out crying at different points in the day, or stay up at night with intrusive thoughts. Because that's what my reaction was. Poor Shrinkiepoo! It must have been absolutely awful for him! (End sarcasm.)
So yes, I feel completely unsatisfied with Shrinkiepoo's reaction. I'm not 100% sure what I wanted; I know I wanted him to know how I felt, but I also wanted him to express some remorse. Even a half-assed apology would have been nice-- "I'm sorry NOS felt that way." But no. Nothing.
So I am unfulfilled. But at least my beliefs have been confirmed: it was a good move to dump Shrinkiepoo. A very good move.
(I want to take a moment here to say that I'm not minimizing the horror of rape-- I'm trying to express that for me ECT was just as horrifying. I've experienced both.)
So after literally trying to get in touch with him since January, D finally had a phone conversation with Shrinkiepoo and told him what I wanted him to. And you know what Shrinkiepoo's response was? "Forcing NOS to undergo ECT was probably the hardest clinical decision I've ever had to make." WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? I'm sorry, Shrinkiepoo, that this was so hard for you. I hope this decision didn't make you burst out crying at different points in the day, or stay up at night with intrusive thoughts. Because that's what my reaction was. Poor Shrinkiepoo! It must have been absolutely awful for him! (End sarcasm.)
So yes, I feel completely unsatisfied with Shrinkiepoo's reaction. I'm not 100% sure what I wanted; I know I wanted him to know how I felt, but I also wanted him to express some remorse. Even a half-assed apology would have been nice-- "I'm sorry NOS felt that way." But no. Nothing.
So I am unfulfilled. But at least my beliefs have been confirmed: it was a good move to dump Shrinkiepoo. A very good move.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Failed Again
It's over. I've gone home to my parents' house, and I've dropped my course. I have been doing horribly in terms of eating, and as a result I have felt more suicidal than I have in a long time. While I'm home D and I are going to work hard on trying to get me back on track so that I can be healthy during the fall semester.
I feel like a complete failure. My eating disorder just doesn't go away-- pretty much since I was 16 I have been unable to maintain recovery for more than a few months. What is my problem? I should be over this already. I should have moved on.
Yesterday I typed into Google "Is recovery from an eating disorder possible" because, honestly, I'm not sure. I found this site where the author-- a registered dietitian-- writes "Unfortunately not everyone recovers, but the possibility is there." It's looking like I'm not going to be one of the lucky ones.
I will never have what I want in life. It's not likely that I will get into graduate school given my record. And if I don't get into graduate school I won't get a job that I want. I should just give up now.
I feel like a complete failure. My eating disorder just doesn't go away-- pretty much since I was 16 I have been unable to maintain recovery for more than a few months. What is my problem? I should be over this already. I should have moved on.
Yesterday I typed into Google "Is recovery from an eating disorder possible" because, honestly, I'm not sure. I found this site where the author-- a registered dietitian-- writes "Unfortunately not everyone recovers, but the possibility is there." It's looking like I'm not going to be one of the lucky ones.
I will never have what I want in life. It's not likely that I will get into graduate school given my record. And if I don't get into graduate school I won't get a job that I want. I should just give up now.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
America
America, Simon & Garfunkel
[Readers, I have wanted to share this song with you for a very, very long time but I was saving it (although I'm not sure what I was saving it for). This is my absolute favorite song in the whole universe-- as of today I have played the song 449 times on iTunes. It's the most beautiful thing I have ever heard, both in terms of its poetry and in terms of the melody. I hope you enjoy it.]
"Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together.
I've got some real estate here in my bag."
So we bought a pack of cigarettes,
And Mrs. Wagner pies.
And walked off to look for America.
"Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh,
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now."
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw.
I've come to look for America.
Laughing on the bus,
Playing games with the faces.
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy.
I said "Be careful, his bow tie is really a camera."
"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat."
"We smoked the last one an hour ago."
So I looked at the scenery,
She read her magazine.
And the moon rose over an open field.
"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping.
"I'm empty and aching and I don't know why."
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike.
They've all come to look for America.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Crushed Hopes
As I mentioned on Wednesday, it has been kind of a tough week in terms of depression. Last night I felt so down and so hopeless that I seriously considered overdosing, and felt like if I had had access to a gun I would definitely use it. I guess it's "fortunate" that I don't have a gun, although it doesn't feel very good.
In order to ward off the depression last night I binged and purged. This, of course, was not an effective strategy. Well, I shouldn't say that. It felt pretty good in the moment-- that's why these behaviors are addicting-- but as soon as I was finished I felt awful. On Tuesday I felt so optimistic about things-- I thought that my new meal plan would magically stop me from engaging in behaviors. But that's clearly unrealistic; eating disorders don't appear overnight and they don't go away overnight either. I just wish they would.
Today I restricted because I'm in the cycle of binge/purge/restrict. And I'm positive that tomorrow I will restrict too because my restrictive episodes usually last two days.
In other news, I have a midterm on Monday. The problem is that because of the depression I'm having a hard time mustering the motivation to study for it. (In fact, I've been having a hard time motivating myself to do anything lately. Work today was especially difficult.) I did manage to study a little bit today, and I took a practice exam and got a 100%, so hopefully I won't be in terrible shape for my exam. But I still have to force myself to do more studying tomorrow and Sunday. It's going to be a struggle.
In order to ward off the depression last night I binged and purged. This, of course, was not an effective strategy. Well, I shouldn't say that. It felt pretty good in the moment-- that's why these behaviors are addicting-- but as soon as I was finished I felt awful. On Tuesday I felt so optimistic about things-- I thought that my new meal plan would magically stop me from engaging in behaviors. But that's clearly unrealistic; eating disorders don't appear overnight and they don't go away overnight either. I just wish they would.
Today I restricted because I'm in the cycle of binge/purge/restrict. And I'm positive that tomorrow I will restrict too because my restrictive episodes usually last two days.
In other news, I have a midterm on Monday. The problem is that because of the depression I'm having a hard time mustering the motivation to study for it. (In fact, I've been having a hard time motivating myself to do anything lately. Work today was especially difficult.) I did manage to study a little bit today, and I took a practice exam and got a 100%, so hopefully I won't be in terrible shape for my exam. But I still have to force myself to do more studying tomorrow and Sunday. It's going to be a struggle.
Birthright Day 3: The Golan
A waterfall at the Jilabun
On day 3 of my trip to Israel I finally made an effort to get back on track with eating. This was no easy feat because the food that was available was not the kind of food I eat here in America, so I didn't know how the different items fit into my meal plan. I decided to wing it and just eat as "intuitively" as I could-- that is, stopping when I felt full. (Of course, this is made more difficult by the fact that I'm not sure I know what full feels like.)
In the morning we hiked the Jilabun. It was an intensive hike in that you had to constantly be looking at your feet because there were rocks and creeks throughout the whole trail, but all in all it was a pretty easy hike.
Afterwards, we drove up to Mt. Bental where we could see the border with Syria. There our tour guide told us about the Six-Day and Yom Kippur Wars. Even though I'm sure everyone else thought it was boring, I thought the lessons on the history of Israel were some of the best parts of the trip.
In the afternoon we went to a winery and then an olive oil press where we had a wine and olive oil tasting, respectively. Even though I was back on track with eating this day my anxiety about adding extra food/calories was really strong so I decided not to take part in either. I pretended to drink the wine, but I really just dumped it out. And there was a crowd of people in front of the different olive oils so it was easy not to taste it without being noticed.
After dinner we saw an Israeli movie during which I fell asleep. It had been a long day.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Ate, But Depressed
Well, I followed my new meal plan today. It was really scary, but somehow felt good. I didn't get extremely hungry between lunch and dinner (my new dietitian added a snack in the mid-afternoon), and therefore I wasn't thinking about food all day. I was actually able to go to the library and focus on my school work! That felt good.
But on the other hand, I felt really depressed today. I felt like crying all day but I'm not sure why. It's possible that because I wasn't obsessing about food my mind went to other things, and pretty much everything in my mind is sad. It's also possible that I was using my eating disorder as a drug and now I'm feeling withdrawal. I don't know. But it was a pretty unpleasant place to be today.
Now the challenge is making it through the night without using behaviors to alleviate my depression.
But on the other hand, I felt really depressed today. I felt like crying all day but I'm not sure why. It's possible that because I wasn't obsessing about food my mind went to other things, and pretty much everything in my mind is sad. It's also possible that I was using my eating disorder as a drug and now I'm feeling withdrawal. I don't know. But it was a pretty unpleasant place to be today.
Now the challenge is making it through the night without using behaviors to alleviate my depression.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Hope At The Dietitian's
Yesterday I was not in a good space. At all. In fact, I was probably feeling more depressed than I have in months. Today, however, I have some renewed hope. Firstly, I didn't use eating disordered behaviors today-- I managed to get through the day without restricting, binging, or purging. Given my recent pattern of behavior, this was a big change
Secondly, I had an appointment with a dietitian today and it went really well! Dr. E, my psychiatrist, was really concerned about me at our last session and asked me to call this dietitian-- a woman whom I saw for three sessions in 2010. When I called her to set up an appointment she gave me the impression that what Dr. E wanted was really to have me assessed for whether I should be inpatient or not. I asked D to call her and get her up to date, and he confirmed that this was what she thought she was doing. But D told her that I would do almost anything to stay out of inpatient, and as a result the topic of inpatient barely came up during my session.
I told the dietitian what I eat according to my meal plan and she was appalled-- apparently I am barely eating enough to maintain resting metabolism, meaning that if I were to lay in bed all day and do nothing except eat what I've been eating I would barely maintain my weight. She said it's no wonder that I've been binging more frequently recently because my body is clearly needing more.
So she gave me a new meal plan. Well, actually she just added onto my old meal plan. I am terrified that this is going to make me gain weight, but I know binging, purging, and restricting will make me gain more weight, not to mention make me crazy. This is going to be a real challenge, but I am ready to move closer toward recovery and to do that I need to take risks.
Secondly, I had an appointment with a dietitian today and it went really well! Dr. E, my psychiatrist, was really concerned about me at our last session and asked me to call this dietitian-- a woman whom I saw for three sessions in 2010. When I called her to set up an appointment she gave me the impression that what Dr. E wanted was really to have me assessed for whether I should be inpatient or not. I asked D to call her and get her up to date, and he confirmed that this was what she thought she was doing. But D told her that I would do almost anything to stay out of inpatient, and as a result the topic of inpatient barely came up during my session.
I told the dietitian what I eat according to my meal plan and she was appalled-- apparently I am barely eating enough to maintain resting metabolism, meaning that if I were to lay in bed all day and do nothing except eat what I've been eating I would barely maintain my weight. She said it's no wonder that I've been binging more frequently recently because my body is clearly needing more.
So she gave me a new meal plan. Well, actually she just added onto my old meal plan. I am terrified that this is going to make me gain weight, but I know binging, purging, and restricting will make me gain more weight, not to mention make me crazy. This is going to be a real challenge, but I am ready to move closer toward recovery and to do that I need to take risks.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Not Doing Well
I am not doing well. At all. After I wrote my post on Saturday night I then messed it all up (in terms of eating) and then continued to mess up through Sunday. As a result my mood is probably lower than it has been in over a year. I hate myself. I hate my brain. I hate my life. I look at other people in envy that they can put food into their mouths without feeling like a failure, and they can stop eating at a reasonable point. Readers, to those of you who can do this: do you know how lucky you are? I would give anything to not have this disorder. Yes, I know everyone has their problems, but I would prefer any other problem if I could get rid of my current one.
There is a real possibility that I will be hospitalized and have to take another medical leave from uni. And on the one hand that thought makes me so depressed because there is the potential that I have let my eating disorder take away more of my life. On the other hand, I might benefit from it because I desperately want to stop and I don't know if I can do it by myself.
Yesterday and today I felt so shitty that I seriously considered suicide. Like, seriously considered. I researched methods. I made a make-shift noose and actually tested it out (it works). It's quite possible that my life is coming to an end. Maybe my luck will change and I'll be hit by a car tomorrow. That would be grand.
There is a real possibility that I will be hospitalized and have to take another medical leave from uni. And on the one hand that thought makes me so depressed because there is the potential that I have let my eating disorder take away more of my life. On the other hand, I might benefit from it because I desperately want to stop and I don't know if I can do it by myself.
Yesterday and today I felt so shitty that I seriously considered suicide. Like, seriously considered. I researched methods. I made a make-shift noose and actually tested it out (it works). It's quite possible that my life is coming to an end. Maybe my luck will change and I'll be hit by a car tomorrow. That would be grand.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Potential
This morning I awoke to an email in my inbox from the treatment center that I was in in 2006 and 2009. They were inviting me to a benefit dinner which would involve cocktails, dinner, and speakers. This brought up a lot of feelings for me. I have mixed feelings about this treatment center-- on the one hand they saved my life twice (although I must admit I have mixed feelings about that fact as well), but on the other hand as soon as I was discharged both times I relapsed almost immediately. And I feel guilty for having these feelings because they treated me so well there; I feel like I should be more grateful. And I guess a part of me feels like I failed them by relapsing. So I'm not sure if I want to go to the benefit. I'm not sure of a lot.
Anyway, today was a better day. I managed to get back on track with my eating and I haven't taken any laxatives. It's 8:09pm so there is still time for me to mess up, but I'm going to hold on as best as I can.
I had a date today with a boy I met on OkCupid. It went really well! We met at a cute coffee shop at 3:30pm and didn't leave until they closed at 6pm, so we clearly had a lot to talk about. He's also pretty cute-- he has a great smile! He seems interested in me too-- as we left he asked me for my phone number. I think I'd really like to get to know him better. I see potential.
Tomorrow I have another date with a different boy from the dating site. I am dripping with men! I'm kind of unsure of this date because we don't really have a plan-- we're meeting in a park and then "finding something fun to do" (his words). But I made it clear that I am unable to eat lunch or dinner with him (I lied and told him that I had plans with friends for those meals) so we most likely will not do something with food, which is good. I guess we'll see what happens!
Anyway, today was a better day. I managed to get back on track with my eating and I haven't taken any laxatives. It's 8:09pm so there is still time for me to mess up, but I'm going to hold on as best as I can.
I had a date today with a boy I met on OkCupid. It went really well! We met at a cute coffee shop at 3:30pm and didn't leave until they closed at 6pm, so we clearly had a lot to talk about. He's also pretty cute-- he has a great smile! He seems interested in me too-- as we left he asked me for my phone number. I think I'd really like to get to know him better. I see potential.
Tomorrow I have another date with a different boy from the dating site. I am dripping with men! I'm kind of unsure of this date because we don't really have a plan-- we're meeting in a park and then "finding something fun to do" (his words). But I made it clear that I am unable to eat lunch or dinner with him (I lied and told him that I had plans with friends for those meals) so we most likely will not do something with food, which is good. I guess we'll see what happens!
Friday, July 8, 2011
Stumbling
I know on Wednesday I said I would stop my eating disordered behaviors, but I slipped. I managed to stay on track for most of Thursday (yesterday), but I slipped up at night and took a handful of laxatives. The worst part? I actually had to go out to the pharmacy to get them. I am very disappointed with myself, but at the same time I know this is a mental disorder and that it's not something that can be stopped just like that. But please know that I'm trying. I'm just stumbling.
Today, however, has been better. I have come to a conclusion that's incredibly difficult for me to accept and admit, but I'd like to share it with you. Ever since I got back from Israel I have been on a restrict/binge/purge cycle that I have been unable to stop. As a consequence my weight has been up and down, and as my weight fluctuated so did my mood. The depression that accompanies my eating disordered behavior is very close to intolerable. This cycle is triggered by hunger, so I have made the following decision: I would rather add an item or two to my meal plan and potentially gain a small amount of weight than have my weight and mood be all over the place. There. I said it.
In the words of Jonathan Larson: "I gotta get my sickness off. Gotta run, gotta ride, gotta gun, gotta hide. Gotta go."
Today, however, has been better. I have come to a conclusion that's incredibly difficult for me to accept and admit, but I'd like to share it with you. Ever since I got back from Israel I have been on a restrict/binge/purge cycle that I have been unable to stop. As a consequence my weight has been up and down, and as my weight fluctuated so did my mood. The depression that accompanies my eating disordered behavior is very close to intolerable. This cycle is triggered by hunger, so I have made the following decision: I would rather add an item or two to my meal plan and potentially gain a small amount of weight than have my weight and mood be all over the place. There. I said it.
In the words of Jonathan Larson: "I gotta get my sickness off. Gotta run, gotta ride, gotta gun, gotta hide. Gotta go."
Birthright Day 2: Shabbat In The North
As a reward for surviving the longest day of our lives, my Birthright peers and I were able to sleep in on Saturday. Well, that's not really the reason-- the real reason is that it was Shabbat-- but it certainly felt like a treat. (Oh, and by "sleep in" I mean "wake up at 8:30am.) And because it was Shabbat everything in Israel was closed and we weren't able to use electricity until sundown, so we ended up playing games in the later morning.
One of the games was a rapid fire name game. There were two teams and each team would send up a representative to stand on one side of a bed sheet, and then the leaders would drop the sheet and the first person to say the other person's name wins, and the loser has to join the winner's team; the team with the most people at the end of the game won. This game was really difficult, as there were 39 of us (at this point-- we added more people later, but more about that on another post), and we had only been acquainted for 48 hours. Because I was having a lot of trouble I began thinking of ECT and how when I was undergoing that procedure I had marked difficulty learning new names. In my head I was panicking-- did the ECT permanently ruin my ability to learn names? But by the next day I had learned everyone's name, so I was a little less panicked.
Another Shabbat activity that we engaged in was swimming; the kibbutz that we were staying at had a pool and we were permitted to use it. But my body image was so atrocious that I didn't even put on a bathing suit, I just wore a t-shirt and shorts and only dipped my feet in. And actually, there were a few of us who were not interested in going in the pool so we played card games. It was actually pretty fun.
After Shabbat ended (that is, after the sun went down) we were driven to a town called Rosh Pina and were "set free" to get ourselves dinner and do whatever else we wanted to do. A big group of us went to a restaurant called Rene. At this point I was still having a bit of trouble with eating, so I ordered a salad. On top of the salad was feta cheese and basil wrapped in phyllo dough. I was too afraid to eat it, but I couldn't stop thinking about it so I put a bite in my mouth and chewed and spit. I don't think anyone noticed.
When the clock struck 12:30am we gathered back on the bus to drive back to our kibbutz to get our 5 hours of sleep before the next day began.
One of the games was a rapid fire name game. There were two teams and each team would send up a representative to stand on one side of a bed sheet, and then the leaders would drop the sheet and the first person to say the other person's name wins, and the loser has to join the winner's team; the team with the most people at the end of the game won. This game was really difficult, as there were 39 of us (at this point-- we added more people later, but more about that on another post), and we had only been acquainted for 48 hours. Because I was having a lot of trouble I began thinking of ECT and how when I was undergoing that procedure I had marked difficulty learning new names. In my head I was panicking-- did the ECT permanently ruin my ability to learn names? But by the next day I had learned everyone's name, so I was a little less panicked.
Another Shabbat activity that we engaged in was swimming; the kibbutz that we were staying at had a pool and we were permitted to use it. But my body image was so atrocious that I didn't even put on a bathing suit, I just wore a t-shirt and shorts and only dipped my feet in. And actually, there were a few of us who were not interested in going in the pool so we played card games. It was actually pretty fun.
After Shabbat ended (that is, after the sun went down) we were driven to a town called Rosh Pina and were "set free" to get ourselves dinner and do whatever else we wanted to do. A big group of us went to a restaurant called Rene. At this point I was still having a bit of trouble with eating, so I ordered a salad. On top of the salad was feta cheese and basil wrapped in phyllo dough. I was too afraid to eat it, but I couldn't stop thinking about it so I put a bite in my mouth and chewed and spit. I don't think anyone noticed.
When the clock struck 12:30am we gathered back on the bus to drive back to our kibbutz to get our 5 hours of sleep before the next day began.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
It Stops Here
Alright. It stops here. I cannot go on living in the restrict/binge/purge cycle that I've been stuck in ever since I got back from Israel. If I continue I will kill myself. I want to stop. I will stop. I am really going to pull out the big guns on this-- I am going to contact someone if I feel the urge to engage in behaviors and maybe they will talk me out of it. I'm desperate.
Today I had an appointment with Dr. E, my new psychiatrist. First the good news: the bloodwork that I had done last week came back normal, so he did not take me off of Wellbutrin. The less good news: I was honest with him about my struggles and he is really concerned. He said that we have three options: I could go to have an assessment at a local eating disorder facility and maybe do an intensive outpatient program or something, he could put me on an SSRI, and/or I could go see a dietitian for support. I told him that I was not willing to do the first one because I don't want to give up what I have. I also told him that I have been on every SSRI and that they make me really suicidal. But I agreed to see a dietitian.
Even though on Monday I told you how D's reaction to my struggles wasn't satisfying-- that he seemed to minimize it-- I must say that now I know that I don't like the opposite reaction either. I am now afraid of Dr. E, and I feel I can't be honest with him about my behaviors because I do NOT want to do an IOP program. I'm not opposed to treatment, but I'm afraid that doing an IOP program would interfere with the class I am now taking (a neuroscience class) in terms of scheduling, and I have to take this class now or else I can't finish up uni in December. And that's my priority. I know, I know, my health and happiness should be my priorities. But just because they should be doesn't mean that they are.
My eating disorder is threatening to take away more of my life and I refuse to let it. That's why this is going to stop right now.
UPDATE: Also, I encourage you to listen to the song I posted earlier today. It's good.
Today I had an appointment with Dr. E, my new psychiatrist. First the good news: the bloodwork that I had done last week came back normal, so he did not take me off of Wellbutrin. The less good news: I was honest with him about my struggles and he is really concerned. He said that we have three options: I could go to have an assessment at a local eating disorder facility and maybe do an intensive outpatient program or something, he could put me on an SSRI, and/or I could go see a dietitian for support. I told him that I was not willing to do the first one because I don't want to give up what I have. I also told him that I have been on every SSRI and that they make me really suicidal. But I agreed to see a dietitian.
Even though on Monday I told you how D's reaction to my struggles wasn't satisfying-- that he seemed to minimize it-- I must say that now I know that I don't like the opposite reaction either. I am now afraid of Dr. E, and I feel I can't be honest with him about my behaviors because I do NOT want to do an IOP program. I'm not opposed to treatment, but I'm afraid that doing an IOP program would interfere with the class I am now taking (a neuroscience class) in terms of scheduling, and I have to take this class now or else I can't finish up uni in December. And that's my priority. I know, I know, my health and happiness should be my priorities. But just because they should be doesn't mean that they are.
My eating disorder is threatening to take away more of my life and I refuse to let it. That's why this is going to stop right now.
UPDATE: Also, I encourage you to listen to the song I posted earlier today. It's good.
The End
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of everything that stands
The end
No safety or surprise
The end
I'll never look into your eyes again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need of some stranger's hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of everything that stands
The end
No safety or surprise
The end
I'll never look into your eyes again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need of some stranger's hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
Monday, July 4, 2011
Sooner Rather Than Later
I had an awful day today. Just terrible. Well, it's been more like an awful three days. Suffice it to say that my eating has been atrocious and I hate myself for it. I think I have completely relapsed, but during our session today D said he disagreed with me. I felt like he was minimizing what I am going through; "it's not that bad" is not something you want to hear when you want to murder yourself.
And really, that's what I want to do. I am so depressed and hopeless that I just cannot bear it. I have been in the hospital and to treatment several times for my eating disorder and depression and neither are better. What is my problem? What is wrong with me?
These diseases are killing me. I am almost 100% sure that I will die from my eating disorder or my depression. I just wish it would happen sooner rather than later.
And really, that's what I want to do. I am so depressed and hopeless that I just cannot bear it. I have been in the hospital and to treatment several times for my eating disorder and depression and neither are better. What is my problem? What is wrong with me?
These diseases are killing me. I am almost 100% sure that I will die from my eating disorder or my depression. I just wish it would happen sooner rather than later.
Birthright Day 1: Welcome To Israel
The Israeli coastline
My first day in Israel was probably the longest day of my life: 34 waking hours. I had to wake up at 5:45am to get to the airport at 8am for a 12pm flight. (The reason why we had to get there so early is because El Al, the Israeli airline, requires extra security. Before I could check my bags I had to undergo an interrogation of sorts. The first question (in Hebrew) was "Do you speak Hebrew?" and because I do speak a little Hebrew I said (in Hebrew) "Yes." Then the rapid-fire questions began (once again, all in Hebrew): Where did you learn Hebrew? Does anyone in your family speak Hebrew? Who? Why are you going to Israel? Have you ever been there before? Do you have any bombs? She spoke really quickly so it was hard for me to process what she was saying (the last time I used my Hebrew skills was probably when I was 16) and I got confused by one of her questions, but nevertheless she let me through.
Anyway, the flight was 10 hours and because it was in the middle of the day and planes are not very comfortable, I was unable to sleep on the plane. I also didn't eat anything on the flight because my weight that morning was "bad."
So we arrived at Ben Gurion Airport at about 5:45am Israeli Time, which really felt like 10:45pm Eastern Time. But we were not allowed to sleep or rest or anything-- we were thrown right into activity. But once I stepped off the plane I felt dizzy and weak, and I thought I was going to collapse. I decided to go and find something to eat to restore my blood sugar levels, but before I could do that I vomited in an airport garbage can in front of my 38 new tripmates. After I did this I felt better, so I was ready to engage in our activities.
First we took a hike up to a look-out and looked at the Israeli Mediterranean coastline (see picture above). It was beautiful.
From there we went to the Jordan River, where we went rafting. I thought this was a great first activity because it was fun, and it served as a team-building exercise between raftmates. I was in a raft with two other girls and one guy, and one of the girls and the guy turned out to be among my best friends on the trip.
We finished this 34 hour day with Shabbat dinner on the kibbutz at which we were going to stay for 3 nights. I felt a little resentful of this activity because I don't appreciate forced religion. I figured that the reason why this trip was free was because some donor wanted to make sure that my generation doesn't forget about our religious heritage. So I participated a little bit because I did not want to seem ungrateful or noncompliant.
I had no trouble falling asleep that night.
Friday, July 1, 2011
It Means Everything
My eating improved today. I didn't completely follow my meal plan, but I got really close. And I'm expecting that tomorrow I will be able to follow it to the letter-- I'm going to try as hard as I can to make this happen.
The one obstacle I will face tomorrow is that from about 10am until 4pm I'm volunteering at a pet adoption event in one of my city's parks. (When I was looking for a job I also signed up to work for an animal shelter, and tomorrow will be the first time I'm doing a shift.) I can have breakfast and dinner as I usually do, but it might be more challenging to have lunch. I've packed the packable parts of my lunch so I can take it with me, but some things I can't bring (like dairy products) so I'll have to fit it in as a snack when I come home from the event. I'm a little anxious about eating at the event because I'm not sure if anyone else is bringing their lunches and I don't want to stand out. But I have to tell myself: I have a medical condition like diabetes that demands that I eat on a regular schedule.
I also had a session with D today, and it was hard. We spoke a lot about weight and what it means to me. So what does weight mean to me? The short answer: everything. Whether or not I have a good day or a bad day is dictated by the scale. And I want to weigh less because the eating disordered part of my brain tells me that if I'm skinny all of my problems-- namely my depression-- would go away. The more sensible part of my brain tells me that I've been skinny before and I was still severely depressed. Nevertheless I continue to buy into what the eating disordered voice tells me.
D and I have decided that I'm going to try not to weigh myself anymore. There was a period in October when I gave up my scales, and as a result I didn't use any behaviors for about three weeks. I want to be in that space again. It's going to be difficult and anxiety provoking, but I feel that I need to do it to move forward. Weighing myself causes me to be tied to my disease and I desperately want to be released.
The one obstacle I will face tomorrow is that from about 10am until 4pm I'm volunteering at a pet adoption event in one of my city's parks. (When I was looking for a job I also signed up to work for an animal shelter, and tomorrow will be the first time I'm doing a shift.) I can have breakfast and dinner as I usually do, but it might be more challenging to have lunch. I've packed the packable parts of my lunch so I can take it with me, but some things I can't bring (like dairy products) so I'll have to fit it in as a snack when I come home from the event. I'm a little anxious about eating at the event because I'm not sure if anyone else is bringing their lunches and I don't want to stand out. But I have to tell myself: I have a medical condition like diabetes that demands that I eat on a regular schedule.
I also had a session with D today, and it was hard. We spoke a lot about weight and what it means to me. So what does weight mean to me? The short answer: everything. Whether or not I have a good day or a bad day is dictated by the scale. And I want to weigh less because the eating disordered part of my brain tells me that if I'm skinny all of my problems-- namely my depression-- would go away. The more sensible part of my brain tells me that I've been skinny before and I was still severely depressed. Nevertheless I continue to buy into what the eating disordered voice tells me.
D and I have decided that I'm going to try not to weigh myself anymore. There was a period in October when I gave up my scales, and as a result I didn't use any behaviors for about three weeks. I want to be in that space again. It's going to be difficult and anxiety provoking, but I feel that I need to do it to move forward. Weighing myself causes me to be tied to my disease and I desperately want to be released.
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