Recovery has been a hard and exhausting, battle but I am here fighting each day. I cannot wait to explain the last few months.
Category: recovery
Chasing Emptiness
One step forward. Just for today. Minute by minute. I’ve taken so many steps backwards that I fell right of the cliff. They tried to pull me away from the edge but I gave up and gave in. In the midst of the mess, I gained an amazing friend who has tried to hold me accountable especially with tough love. It hurts my soul that she has gotten dragged into this nightmare. Again, a burden only for myself to carry and worry about.
Walking into her room, where I have been in therapy for a few years, this is the first time I’ve walked in completely terrified that there is a chance I might not go back to work but to a hospital. Thankfully, that did not happen.
The therapy session was absolutely rough. I’ve never cried in that room, until today. When they say recovery is the hardest thing you will ever do, well, this time, they are right. This relapse is something I haven’t felt in years. I gave up trying and now I am in a very dark place that I have no idea how to get out of. Seeing the word “non-compliant” in regards to the scale, to being honest, to medication, to everything, even that hasn’t jolted me out of this. All I hear is her saying keep going. Every ounce of my soul has been consumed by Ana. This defiance, the straight faced lies, the sneaking, it is all her game. One that I am losing.
Deep down, I so badly want to be better, to be healthy. However, it feels like anything I try is just a waste of time and effort. I see how so many lose their battle to this monster. I don’t want to be another one. The question though is how. How do I not become another statistic? How do I face the world I have so desperately hidden from?
I sit in my office chair staring at the wall wanting so badly to get work done, but all I hear is Ana yelling. My work has never been caught in the crossfire until now. It is obvious that this is my rock bottom. The lies I’ve told punch me in the gut like no other. The knowing looks and the “I know better than that” look, they want to believe I’m being honest, yet I am sure they know deep down I am not. I am simply moving through the days lightheaded like walking on clouds. They say the high is in the chase for some. For me, it is in being empty. It is in feeling light and small. The lies being told of nutrition being consumed, when it is all but liquid calories at this point. I will eat some almonds and a Bluey apple snacker. Anything else, cereal, granola bars, salads etc. are all things I have become terrified to touch. Things that in prior relapses didn’t invoke terror and utter panic.
I sit here now trying to figure out a better way. A way to climb this hole and get out. I just don’t see it right now. No matter how hard I try, my fingers slip and I lose all grip and success. Only I can get myself out of what I put myself in. However, this fight is getting exhausting. It is getting harder and harder to find the strength to try again. I see why high levels of care are needed. For me, it isn’t bad enough for that. So as I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I will try again to find my way out.
Accountability and Seeking Treatment
Having that one person in my life that puts their foot down, that accountability, is such a raw emotional feeling. I look back and I see I had such a “childish” response in the way I said no. The subtle child like rebellion and attitude of being told what to do, that makes me sad. Looks like my inner child, the one that was first diagnosed at 16, is still fighting for control. Then again, maybe I am not an adult at all and this is a dream.
Who would have ever guess something so deadly was so easy to disguise. The world’s deadliest mental illness resides in me and I fully understand that. The sad part, like an addict, I am hooked on the high of emptiness. The weightlessness, being lightheaded, ignoring the concerned looks, knowing consequences are just on the horizon.
There is one thing I must admit. I did one adult thing and in the right direction. I submitted information on a treatment facility’s website. Within 24 hours I had an assessment set up with one of the clinicians. After the one hour phone call, I was told I will be a great fit for their virtual IOP. It took so much time to really process what I had done.
I have been accepted into their program can start treatment almost immediately. However, the finances just aren’t there and that is okay. I want to see what treatments are available and what level of care I “need”. Though I will not be attending with the treatment center, it is comforting knowing that there are virtual IOPs out there that are flexible with scheduling. ERC Virtual IOP has additional financing options that may lead to actual treatment within the coming weeks.
I’ve been on a wonderful path of recovery and living a life not dictated by Ana and her authoritarian control. How did she creep back in and take over again? As I sit in my swing watching the storm roll in, I cannot fathom a world without her. Yet, it all feels safe.
In one week I will know the steps that lay ahead if I can’t trick the scale, but am I willing to accept what is to come? I guess we will have to wait and see.
Another Carousel Ride
After taking a break away from posting anything on all platforms, I find myself in a pretty deep rabbit hole.
I spent many, many months piecing my health and mind back together and for a good while, I was doing much better. And then, right after the holidays, we were hit with news that our grandson would be coming back to live with us. Needless to say, I had gotten used to him not being home. I am forever grateful that we have been able to step up and take care of him. I will cherish this time forever.
I guess this is where the slope started.
I had set myself a goal to find exercise fun rather than only numbers and I was getting on the right track. The #s on the scale slowly started to creep up, and at first, it really scared me. Yet, I kept pushing to be a better, healthier me.
Looking back over the last five months, I can see where I seen the rabbit hole, peered in and rather than walking away, I jumped in. Slowly starting to notice working out was back to focusing on distance and #s burned. It didn’t matter, even sick, I was at the gym or outside. Then came the bigger slip and slide. Excessive caffeine. I put the Bang cotton candy down and picked up the box of a diet pill drink powder. As I often did, I mixed two rather than 1 per 16 ounces. The stronger the better, or so I thought.
At that moment, the first sip, the berry mix flavour, though tart, put me right back into some of the more dangerous behaviours. Drinking coffee and going right in with the drink mix rather than water, a true disaster in the making.
So I stand here now, feeling naked and lost. Ana is absolutely pissed off that I told my PNP what has been going on. Like I somehow ruined everything because I made the grownup decision to be honest. Honesty and Ana have never gotten along and more eyes on me is the last either of us need/want.
Being in a support group with a very tight and private community has put life into prospective. One I thought I’d never see, nor afford to be apart of. However, even at that I am lacking and making the conscience decision to open the app and just bounce from posts and pages. Never really putting effort into being honest and being apart of the community.
This is embarrassing, and to be 33 nearly 34 years old, makes it worse. I get EDs have no preference, everyone is a target. I just happened to be a huge target for the last 17-18 years of my life.
Maladaptive coping skilss are what I choose when I have so many great tools to use to get better and stay better. But, here we are again, sitting in utter shame, naked and terrified what happens next.
Sorry for the disappearce and super long return.
Recovery and Relapse
In Proverbs there is a scripture that talk about a righteous man who falls seven times, when he gets back up, he honours God. In the same sentence that he has fallen seven times God still calls him a righteous man and how honouring that is.
Trigger warning… Relapse.
I have been away for some time. I really put my effort into staying in recovery and I was doing good. I was able to have some things that i haven’t touched since I was a kid. When I was working out, it was to keep my body moving and feeling good, not to burn as many calories as possible. I was finally feeling free from Ana’s grip. She was always yelling but her voice sounded distant.
Recovery was something I thought I’d never achieve and yet I was doing it! As I mentioned I tried and enjoyed! a treat from childhood. Wendy’s fries and a small chocolate frosty. The memories came back with happy times. Times before fast food became a crippling fear. See, I’m rocking this recovery journey.
The question begs… So what now? Am I still doing great or did I drop the ball? I am sure by the title and the quote that you know I lost the plot.
An immensive feat was that i wasn’t on the scale using numbers to determine my worth for the day. I wanted at one point to simply throw it out but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I figured if I wasn’t getting on it as much no real point in throwing it away. A way to look in the mirror and laugh at Ana’s unnecessary attitude for me not getting on the scale.
So I am coming here to hold myself accountable for the relapse I am currently in. I’ve lost a decent bit within a very short amount of time and people are side eyeing me. At least it’s ridiculously cold for May. I have been able to get away with some extra layers without concern. It has been a battle after last week’s therapy session. My homework was to increase my calories by increment amounts to get me back on my way to recovery over the next few weeks. Lord help me as she doesn’t know that I’ve gotten worse and I don’t know how the hell I am going to increase when I cannot even bare to have anything but a shake. Solid foods are just not appealing. But wait there’s something else.
I started Wellbutrin two and a half weeks ago to help with the ADHD. Week one was absolutely a breeze. The second week was absolutely torture. I was on constant high alert always next to tears. I have the shakes which I’m fine with. I shake normally, this just intensifies it. While looking through some research and I found several websites and read the entire PDF information on Wellbutrin only to find that I, along with many others, aren’t supposed to be on this medication. Why you ask? Because anorexia and bulimia make us much more susceptible to having seizures with great consequence. Get this, Wellbutrin only intensifies our susceptibility to actually having a seizure even if you have never had one.
I decided that after all of that information I just read through, I felt the need to get ahold of my psych nurse and ask if it is true. As if reading the entire page from the drug maker wasn’t enough to make me believe it. Is it true that I shouldn’t be on this? Her response, stop taking it immediately. I found out the reason she even put me on it was due to the fact she thought my ED had been in remission for some time. So she called me out on the carpet letting me know that even if she doesn’t bring up any questions of ED behaviours, I need to be more forthcoming so this doesn’t happen again.
Understandable that she would want me to stop taking it. I am bucking at the idea because it has definitely blocked whatever appetite I ever had left and has kept me moving on this destructive relapse helping the numbers to continue to drop. Plus I am two and a half weeks in so it would be a waste if I don’t give it the full month. I am able to focus more but it is still not fully in my system to make a true judgment of its ability to help me with ADHD. However, I don’t want to waste medication and leave it in the box with everything else. Might as well keep going. At least finish the bottle.
The thing is, I am making a conscious decision to let her continue to be at the wheel only to continue to drive my relapse further and further down the hole. In three weeks I’ve lost a bit and in my mind with her it’s not enough. However, I know better than this and I should want to get her out of the car and shove her in the trunk. Yet, eating disorders have such a powerful grip that they start to bind you with zip ties knowing that those are the hardest to escape from. Why do I, as a grown woman, adult even, want to continue to allow such a childish, immature disease control my life when I have so many better things to do and things to think about?? How am I allowed to be an adult with a career when it is obvious I can barely handle my own mind and body.
To wrap this post, I am stuck between wanting recovery back and wanting to continue to be on this destructive path until I am finally sick enough to walk away. Recovery isn’t easy. It isn’t pretty and it is exhausting. I want to get better but I also want to stay sick. It is such a very weird dilemma I have found myself in.
I hope that this helps someone know they aren’t alone and that recovery takes time and effort. That it isn’t easy and we need to keep pushing through to what we know to be a better way to live. Eventually, we will find recovery and never look back.
Uncomfortable
For the last two days, I have been beyond uncomfortable in my skin. I work out, I literally run for fun. Yet, these last two days I have been crawling out of my skin. The anxiety creeps higher and higher to the point I double dose my Atarax, which I am allowed to do, and an extra calm gummy. My weight continues to hover too high and I am not okay with this being the possible “set point” that my body has decided on. I would be okay say if it were like ten lbs less for my “set point” I’d be okay.
Recovery comes in waves and right now I am drowning again. She is being so loud and she is making recovery near impossible at the moment. All I want to do is restrict, restrict, restrict and exercise until I can’t anymore. I am fighting to stay above the waves but I am also letting her win. I don’t want to lose her. She is my best friend and safe space. I want recovery but I don’t at the same time. I’m tired of being at this higher weight and most days I just sit at work hating every tiny inch of my body. I just want to run. I don’t want to go out and eat. I don’t want to sit and be average. I want my small body back. The one where I didn’t take up space. Just let me be tiny.
I want recovery but then I don’t. I’m tired and I’m so tired of hating my body.
Can someone please just look the other way and let me be tiny? Can we keep it a secret just between us? Do I really need food? Can I just keep drinking Hyrdroxycut drink packets… I mean they do taste good? Can we not tell anyone that I still have the scale at work so I can check my weight throughout the day?
Can I just be tiny?
Can I just walk away from recovery for a little while?
Please?