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.
Two appointments, two separate appointments and both left me despondent and lost. I went to my 3 month med som appointment and confirmed increase, a significant increase, in ED behaviour. It was then that she confirmed she would be taking me off of X medication as it is contraindicated with Ana and puts me in a dangerous position. All I wanted was to have the medication continued as it has helped with ADHD. At this point, I will not be getting X back. You will find me in the book of herbs and naturals. I rather handle it this way, now seeing how this has shown me what life is like when ADHD symptoms are under control. I have tapered myself off, per her instructions, and those few days without X reminded me of why X had made a difference. Here I was going through life not realizing that half my issues were significant concentration and attention deficits, something I didn’t know I had. Thankfully, I can now identify and try to redirect/correct my attention at work, making the days go smoother than in the past.
Here is where I left her office knowing I will be returning in a month for f/u. In a month, I will return to her office “to continue to monitor progress and weight.” Miss ma’am, I think not. Just because I lost some doesn’t make me a target for constant watch. The one thing she didn’t know was that my weight is actually lower. I’m sure we can think logically how I managed that. So, yeah, just by that action at the office with the scale, proves that Ana is in control.
Fast forward to today, July 23, 2024. I had my therapy appointment. Oh boy was that rough! Giving myself a voice is so damn hard when Ana is in control. Every breath, every single blink, absolutely everything about my existence, is hers. Hearing Holly say X medication has black boxed Ana. Needless to say, when I got to the office, I went and searched the black box warnings. Even though it isn’t exactly in the box, it is there in black and white. Ana seems to be a contraindication to everything. In that moment, I, not Ana, was deflated. I felt cheated, but back to the appointment. We tried to look back over the last year and to focus on what helped boost me in recovery and start adding them back to my “goals.” After several more minutes of explaining why I’m bucking at the need to stop taking X, Holly made a clear statement, one that hit hard and put EVERYTHING in perspective. She stated: “by her letting you stay on X, that is like her handing you sharps,” in reference to my prior SH. Like handing me sharps, damn, that made so much sense all the while being a punch in the gut. She isn’t wrong. Now that I think about that, my nurse said pretty much the same thing in a different way.
Two new appointments, in two weeks time. First, Psych med f/u. Second, Holly. I am now back to every two weeks for therapy. Where did I go wrong? Did Ana really take total control and I am just a bystander not caring to stop and fight back? I am not a victim of anything other than my own doing. This isn’t me playing victim. This is me trying to be open and honest, even though no one I know reads these. I get this is a disease, just like alcoholism or drug addiction, there is a genetic component. I get that recovery is a choice, one you have to fight to work through, I’ve been there. I’ve done the work.
Right now, I just have to sit and process this relapse, and push myself up out of this new rabbit hole and move forward. As my site says, one bite at a time.
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.
Therapy today was productive and I took home a good amount of homework. Yet, as I drove back to the office, all 42 miles, which provided me enough time to realize how little of the truth I told simply in hopes of looking and sounding “better” than I really am. Classic move.
I pull into the parking lot, car park sounds so much better but I severely digress, weighing (pun not intended) all of my options. Do I send an e-mail in hopes it will go unnoticed for a few days? Do I shut up and move on with my day as if I hadn’t seen her just an hour before? Or… Do I send an e-mail letting her know that at the end of session when she asked if there was anything else, that in fact there was something else?
As I roll in my chair back to my keyboard I try to lose myself in work hoping I’d figure it out later and deal with it all another day. Ana didn’t want me to be honest. She didn’t want her secret out, that she is in power not me.
I’d say maybe half an hour in and my recovery side, the “angel” side, tried screaming over her telling me to tell H how much of a relapse I have been in, that nothing is okay, and how much I don’t want to do this anymore. Recovery side of me actually won and I sent her an e-mail with the direct link to my website here so that she can truly see what a shit show my life has really been. Maybe this is me willing to give recovery another chance. Maybe recovery me felt strong for essentially ratting myself out. Whatever it was in that moment, I sent the e-mail and moved on with my day. To say I didn’t stare at my inbox from there until I clocked out would be a terrible lie.
For now I choose to believe somewhere in me wants a better life than what Ana has provided me for so many years. I choose to try and see that, year after year and relapse after relapse, this isn’t what life is and how life has so much more to offer. I have to fight to live and be at least okay with the one body I have and will ever have. For today, I may have been in complete restriction, I am choosing to nourish tomorrow.
Today I stood on the scale and I saw the highest number I’ve seen in over three years. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want recovery if it means being this big. I can’t do it. My trousers for work are starting to tighten and my shirts aren’t as flowy. It is heading into winter here and I’m not okay with that either. Thankfully I have a med change in a few days. That will help with the winter.
If recovery means me hating every single tiny millimetre of my body then I don’t fcking want it. I cannot stand this body I am currently in. I want out. I can’t do this anymore. I just want to be tiny. Screw being “normal” or “healthy” because I was healthy. I was happy. Just let me be tiny. I’d rather die than be fat.
Today I woke up and rose to the occasion. I am not one to get up early and grab a full shower during the week, I’d much rather stay curled in my warm blankets than get up earlier. So I was definitely off to a really good start.
I get to work and I’m just riding this slap happy mood, not thinking a thing in the world. Maybe that is exactly why this happened. I was too chill and happy and she saw fit to sneak in. Sneak in she did.
I found myself cautiously slipping into the bathroom after a bit of breakfast and gave into a behaviour that I swore I’d never do again. I even have it written on a sticky note that this behaviour is NOT AN OPTION. Apparently today it was the only option. Like I was seeing myself engage in the behaviour as if through a glass. It’s not like I did it on purpose with all intentions. It was just weird. It felt normal and a part of my daily routine like in years past. It felt so normal and I walked back to my desk as if nothing had ever happened.
Once lunch time came around and I change for the gym it hits me like a brick. I did the one thing I said was not an option. I slid to the floor scratching my head trying to understand what I did and how it even happened. All I know is I let my guard down and she snuck her damn head in, having no business in my happiness.
I have a lot of work to do to figure out how and why that behaviour happened. I was under no stressful situation. I literally was humming and enjoying a nice morning. There is currently NO reason. It simply happened. By no means do I believe that something somewhere lead me to the event, i just have not figured it out.
Ana has been yelling so I am sure there are some weird underlying facets that lead to the event this morning. It makes me feel gross and dirty. I never enjoyed Mia she was just another friend I needed to function if I had no control of what or when I ate. She was always my plan B. Ana does enough damage on her own. Medical studies show heart damage and a new scientific article shows that prolonged anorexia does cause brain damage that may, may be possible to reverse upon recovery. That makes a lot of sense when I see how this has been going on for the last 16 years.
Recovery is such a struggle for me and I don’t know why. Do I want to forever spend my life striving to be the smallest? Do I want to spend my life hiding my body fully ashamed of the figure I have? I have a lot of work to do and I think my Friday zoom group meetings with Alsana and once a month therapy with Holly might not be enough right now especially since I am coming up on a med change since the seasons are changing and I hate, abhor really, the cold and the days get darker earlier, it just burns my soul.
With that being said, today’s lesson is, even on your best days, if you are not keeping guard, even the best days can fall victim of your eating disorder. Recovery is hard, and it isn’t a straight line. It’s okay to have slips but we have to stand back up and move forward. I choose to pick myself up and move forward to a new day.
