Divorce---Relapse

I know we are all responsible for our own actions...but this...is what my life feels like.

This...is what caused me to relapse into this vicious disease that is determined to ruin my life. 

Divorce.

Separation.

Whatever the hell they want to call it. I don't care...

I am so tired of feeling like the rope in their little game of tug-of-war. It's getting old really fast.

Before I came home for the holidays, i'm very ashamed to admit, I managed to lose almost all of the weight I worked so hard to put on in treatment from all of the stress my parents are putting me through. I'm back down to a number I was once satisfied with, but now I look in the mirror and I see a huge, fat, disgusting person who needs to lose ten more pounds. Maybe twenty. 

I left treatment so hopeful and sure that I could do this. That I had it in me to recover from this deadly disease that keeps trying to claim my life. I haven't had a meal that I haven't purged since Tuesday night, and it's Friday. I'm starving. I know I need to eat something, and that's probably why I'm up at 5am posting this. Because my body wants and NEEDS food.

And in my defense, I did at least go into the kitchen with intentions of finding something to eat, but the only thing I left with was hot tea sweetened with fake sugar and a little honey.

Nutritious, huh?

I'm exhausted...caffeine is far from helpful anymore. I can down three Monsters and not feel a thing.

Today I could barely pick my feet up off the ground when grocery shopping.

And when I couldn't get away with eating only half of my sandwich I immediately dismissed myself to "take a  bath" since I had "slaved away cooking dinner and had gotten hot, sweaty, and greasy," so I could purge.

This cycle is killing me. I wish I could just stop. I wish it were that easy.

I wish I could go out with my friends and not worry about the menu and automatically go to the low cal selections every. single. time. 

I just don't know if that's in my future anymore. At one point I thought I might get there one day.

But I honestly don't think I will ever be able to eat anything "fattening" again without thinking about it

 going straight to my thighs.    

That's where I'm at tonight...or...this morning.

Dream That Keeps Me Healthy

I'm back on the path to recovery....

I don't want to starve and I don't want to gorge myself only to spend the next half hour with my head in the toilet anymore. I wan't to be healthy. Because I have a dream to be a mother one day, and that is one dream I am not willing to let my eating disorder take away from me.

So I'm fighting back. I will not let this eating disorder take away my life, and I will not let it prevent me from one day creating life.

I want to raise children and grow old with the man God gives me to love, and I plan on loving him with all my heart. I will be the best mother I can be, the best wife I can be, the best nurse I can be, and the best servant to the Lord I can be. 

I will create all the life my God intents for me to create and I will help save all the lives I am capable of saving, including my own. 

I will defeat this disease.

It will not win. 

Extreme

I think that's just my personality. "Extreme." That is, in essence, the best possible way to sum up my ridiculous personality that I, at 19 years old, still don't understand. I'm always at one extreme or the other, finding it impossible to land somewhere in the middle where things would be safe, normal, healthy, and stable. I find that this is true not only with my eating disorder, but with every part of me. I'm never just sad, usually I'm miserable. I'm never just happy. No. If I'm happy, I'm ecstatic. I don't think I've ever experienced slight frustrations. Usually, I experience anger and resentment. And lately, I don't keep just a slight watchful eye on the things I eat, occasionally indulging in my guilty pleasure of choice. Absolutely impossible...It's go big or go home with me. I gotta be the Food Nazi, tracking every single morsel, begrudgingly ignoring anything remotely unhealthy. Or....I eat everything within my grasp. 

It's anorexic behaviors, or its bulimic ones. 

One extreme.

Or the other.

And lately, its been bulimic behaviors just about every single night.

I've heard it was common for someone in recovery from anorexia to binge eat occasionally while their body gets used to having food and whatever. 

But really, I gotta ask. How do you go from hating food, to not being able to stop eating it? (another example of my "extreme-behavior"). 

And of course, I'm going to purge. I mean, come on. I may be recovering from anorexia, but I'm not recovered. There's no way any person on this planet could pay me any amount of money to eat like I've been eating and actually keep it down. That's an insane thought!

Extreme?...yeah, I know. 

So as I sit here, writing this blog, I wonder to myself how I could have possibly let myself binge and purge yet again. I mean, today I ate pretty normally at meal time. But yet, after dinner my extreme ravenous "hunger" kicked in, and I wanted everything. 

Or maybe I didn't...

Maybe it was just something to do. 

(hmmm...I even have extreme hobbies!)

Well, whatever the case may be, as of tonight I am officially discouraged. Extremely. 

Fight

Last night I was tortured. I tried, with much effort, to escape. I kicked, I screamed, and I fought, but I lost to my thoughts that had me bound in chains. They told me horrible things. They told me I was ugly, fat, and worthless. They told me that no one would ever want me.

And last night, I believed them.

Afterall, who has kept me around? Most people in my life have left, died, or moved on to bigger and better things while I remain standing in the rubble of the memories. I hold on to dear life, grasping onto every chance or possiblility that maybe, one day, I'll be good enough for them to come back to me. I run, I chase, and I seek their approval, desperately needing some kind of love to keep my heart beating. Because on my own I don't feel good enough.

When will this massacre of my self-esteem and dignity end? Will it ever? Will I forever be bound to these thoughts that rule my world?

Maybe.
It's very possible that I may always creep around these thoughts that lurk in the shadows of my mind. But every single day is a new opportunity to fight these words that cut deep into my soul. Every moment I am given the choice to either lay down and take the abuse, or to fight for my life.

And so are you.

Fight.

Why So Serious?

You know those moments where you do something that you know you will regret the very next moment, or hour, or day? But you can't help it. It's impulsive and you have absolutely no control over the situation whatsoever. It's bad. You hate it, you dread it, but at the same time you long for it, and you want it. This is called, "The Anorexic craving ice cream."

This is what happened late last night, while hanging out with my awesome new college friends. As we were talking about fried chicken, I got this overwhelming desire for ice cream. Not "no sugar added" ice cream, not low fat yogurt, but a sugary, sweet, fattening Sonic Blast. So like word vomit, I exclaimed "I really want some ice cream." These particular friends happen to be very sweet gentlemen, who hopped up instantly, grabbing their keys, saying "let's go!"

Great.

So we head to Sonic, and I order myself an Oreo Sonic Blast. I knew I was going to regret this. I would spend the whole night feeling guilty and hating myself. But I ate it and enjoyed every single moment of its creaminess. I wasn't thinking about how guilty I would feel. I didn't care at that particular moment.

That's when a very unexpected thing happened. I finished the last bite of it, and I waited for the guilt to set in. I knew it was coming. However, as I waited for the voices in my head to start abusing me, I realized that hours had gone by and I still didn't feel guilty. I was awestruck by this realization. This had never happened before. For as long as I can remember, I've felt guilty over eating certain foods. But not this time. This time I ordered it, I indulged in it, I finished it, and when I was done I didn't have an overwhelming desire to purge, and I didn't instantly start beating myself up.

I made an awesome step in recovery by doing and realizing this. This made me think that if I could just stop focusing on the negative for a minute, and focus on the positive, I  may be capable of a lot more than I give myself credit for. Old me, would have seen absolutely no postitive in this situation. However, recovering me saw that there were awesome people that I was spending my evening with and I was truly enjoying myself (and the Sonic Blast).

Life's too short to be so serious all the time.

So go order a Sonic Blast with you friends. Laugh, and celebrate the world and all the fun that we are able to have.

Force Fed.

Oh yes. You did, in fact, read the title correctly. I, at 19 years old, was force fed.

 As I head to dinner, ED (eating disorder) is really talking to me, and he whispers tempting thoughts in my ear. He tells me that I can definitely get away with eating a bowl of cereal tonight. So I warily enter the cafeteria, instantly dreading the vast buffet-style food selections. I scan it quickly allowing my eyes to stop only on the cereal section that awaited me on the other side of the room. I hurriedly walk over to grab a bowl, fill it will Lucky Charms and milk, push through the crowd to grab a spoon, and weave in and out of all the waiting people until I reach my seat at the table. I sit down with my bowl of cereal discreetly eyeing my friends responses to my dinner selection and begin to eat with ED shouting in my head.

So here I am eating my cereal with two sets of skeptical  eyes on me. When I finally finish my cereal, I couldn't take it anymore. "What?!" I ask my two friends who were looking at me disapprovingly. "You have to eat more than cereal." Oh no, no, no, I think to myself. But as we sat there my belongings were taken hostage by my friends and I was told they would not be returned to me until I ate a proper dinner.
This got me thinking about recovery. Sometimes we often feel helpless and hoplessly lost. This is a common feeling in everybody at times, not just those who are recovering. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our thoughts that we need someone or something to help pull us back into reality.
I needed this for eighteen weeks while in treatment from Anorexia. I needed help. I coudn't do it alone.
This made me come to the awesome realization that there is little in this world that we can, in fact, do alone. We need to be individuals, but we also need support.
I hope that you have support.
Because we all need to be force fed sometimes.

Beautiful Disaster

"She prays on day, she'll find someone to need her. She swears that there's no difference between the lies and compliments...It's all the same if everybody leaves her."

Why do we base our self worth on others? It seems as if we always seek approval from others before we seek our own. In fact, a lot of times, our own approval is based upon that of those around us. We set our standards based on what we think they think they should be. Where did our ability to think for ourselves go?

I was wondering this today as I was observing the people around me. I noticed that as I looked at them, they too, looked back at me. Many of them looked at me and then scanned the room, looking at everyone else. So many of us watch and compare constantly. If we aren't the skinniest person in the room, it means we are fat and need to lose five pounds. If the girl next to us is dressed in Juicy Couture and carrying a Gucci bag, we need to go out and spend our whole paycheck on a new wardrobe.

Why can't we just be who we are? I know this sounds like such a cliche question, but really. Whose approval are we seeking and why? Why can't we set our own standards for ourselves based upon who WE are as INDIVIDUALS.

Just something to think about.