Bear with me as I'm going to make a Batman analogy...
I had a talk with my dietitian yesterday and it got me thinking...about Batman.
She said, "Leah Beth, I know you want to fight and get better, and we are going to keep working as if you can, but I’m just afraid that you’ve passed that point and your brain chemistry won’t let you become unstuck. It isn’t about white knuckling it with willpower anymore. There is a certain point in time when people just get so stuck that they can’t make changes on their own and that is where I feel you are.”
Don't ask me how Batman crossed my mind, but it did.
So, in the Dark Knight Rises, Bruce Wayne ends up in the Pit, also known as "the worst hell on Earth." The Pit is a giant well-like prison in a deserted land, and people try and try to escape but they cannot climb the walls without falling back down. Only one that he knew of had been successful at getting out. The only way out of the Pit, realistically speaking, would be if people threw a rope down and hoisted the prisoners up. Otherwise, the prisoners would be stuck down there in that hole forever.
It wasn't like they didn't want to escape, and it certainly wasn't for lack of trying, but it just seemed an impossible feat alone. This feels a lot like being stuck in an eating disorder and behaviors and feeling unable to escape. My deepest earthly desire is that I am able to have easier mornings, sweeter days, and calmer nights. I want to get out and become free but I feel like I'm stuck deep in the Pit.
So what happens when the desire of the heart is overridden by the chemistry of the brain? Honestly, I don't have a good answer for this, but it seems like it is the million dollar question, at least for me. I was so grateful to hear her say that we would continue working as if I could change my behaviors...she must have hope that there is an escape ladder out of the Pit.
So basically I have no idea where I was going with this post, other than I feel a lot like a prisoner of the Pit, and I want to develop the strength and courage it took Talia to climb to her freedom (note: I do not want to become a psycho killer villain though!)
And that is where I am today. Peace be with you.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Friday, October 25, 2013
exposing it
I have been hesitant to post anything here, as I know how exposed it leaves me, however after giving it much thought I've come to the conclusion that recovery encompasses not only the good and positive moments but the tough moments as well.
Therefore, I've decided to start posting again.
I have learned a lot since moving back to Florida in March. The biggest being that positive changes in life can also cause high levels of anxiety and stress, which I have to be prepared for just as I would prepare for tumultuous changes. Upon moving home, I promptly started a new job, moved into my own apartment, adopted a dog, and bought a new car.
All very wonderful and exciting new challenges to take on. But challenges, nonetheless. Challenges that I was not necessarily prepared for.
At the end of July I started talking to/seeing a guy, which I haven't had experience with in years. After feeling like we really had a connection going and finally starting to feel at ease with him, myself, and my past history, he stopped talking to me completely, leaving me with a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts to deal with and old tapes that resurfaced to play over and over in my mind.
I say that this was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak.
I had been able to hold it together for the most part up until August, and that is when things started to unravel. I slipped with the eating disorder, and what started as a slip that I was able to easily excuse away, because a string of slips. That string of slips with one particular behavior soon turned into slipping with other behaviors. Before I think I even realized it, my "slip" had become a relapse.
And that brings me to today.
I have had to face the facts. My team wants me inpatient but for once, I'm trying to fight for myself and fight to make the necessary changes on an outpatient basis. I realize the pro's and con's to both options, but feel like I need to at least give this a shot. It has been amazingly difficult thus far, but I am not giving up. I've increased my therapy sessions to twice a week, see my dietitian once a week, go to a group once a week, and see my MD once a week, as well as have weekly labs done. I have made a plan with my dietitian to take in more calories and reduce the frequency of my behaviors and feel committed to make the changes we have discussed.
An eating disorder does not make my life more manageable. An eating disorder does not keep me safe. An eating disorder does not purify me. An eating disorder does not provide me with worth. An eating disorder is not going to be my only future. An eating disorder is not all I am capable of. An eating disorder does not protect me.
Nourishment, existence, and life will help me to achieve all of those things. I have to continue to challenge all the lies that the eating disorder feeds me on a continual basis. I've challenged them before and have to continue to fight them when they resurface. I know what exacerbates them and I'm learning how to be more prepared.
I can do this, and I will. I am more.
Therefore, I've decided to start posting again.
I have learned a lot since moving back to Florida in March. The biggest being that positive changes in life can also cause high levels of anxiety and stress, which I have to be prepared for just as I would prepare for tumultuous changes. Upon moving home, I promptly started a new job, moved into my own apartment, adopted a dog, and bought a new car.
All very wonderful and exciting new challenges to take on. But challenges, nonetheless. Challenges that I was not necessarily prepared for.
At the end of July I started talking to/seeing a guy, which I haven't had experience with in years. After feeling like we really had a connection going and finally starting to feel at ease with him, myself, and my past history, he stopped talking to me completely, leaving me with a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts to deal with and old tapes that resurfaced to play over and over in my mind.
I say that this was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak.
I had been able to hold it together for the most part up until August, and that is when things started to unravel. I slipped with the eating disorder, and what started as a slip that I was able to easily excuse away, because a string of slips. That string of slips with one particular behavior soon turned into slipping with other behaviors. Before I think I even realized it, my "slip" had become a relapse.
And that brings me to today.
I have had to face the facts. My team wants me inpatient but for once, I'm trying to fight for myself and fight to make the necessary changes on an outpatient basis. I realize the pro's and con's to both options, but feel like I need to at least give this a shot. It has been amazingly difficult thus far, but I am not giving up. I've increased my therapy sessions to twice a week, see my dietitian once a week, go to a group once a week, and see my MD once a week, as well as have weekly labs done. I have made a plan with my dietitian to take in more calories and reduce the frequency of my behaviors and feel committed to make the changes we have discussed.
An eating disorder does not make my life more manageable. An eating disorder does not keep me safe. An eating disorder does not purify me. An eating disorder does not provide me with worth. An eating disorder is not going to be my only future. An eating disorder is not all I am capable of. An eating disorder does not protect me.
Nourishment, existence, and life will help me to achieve all of those things. I have to continue to challenge all the lies that the eating disorder feeds me on a continual basis. I've challenged them before and have to continue to fight them when they resurface. I know what exacerbates them and I'm learning how to be more prepared.
I can do this, and I will. I am more.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
the stigma has got to go...
mental health stigmatization is maybe one of the few things that can get me fired up quicker than a turbo engine can go from zero to sixty.
I found myself sitting amongst my coworkers yesterday at lunch as someone halfheartedly made a comment about another person being 'so bipolar.' this one comment spurred an entire discussion about people dealing with Bipolar disorder and how 'those Bipolars are so dangerous' and 'they can be so violent' and 'i'm not sure what is worse; bipolar or living with someone who has OCD.'
I was appalled, and mortified, and primarily just shocked at how easily these people degraded those who struggle with mental illnesses, and also how ignorant they were. I found myself wanting to interject all my firsthand knowledge yet not wanting to out myself, as no one at work really knows my background. Thankfully, someone finally spoke up and clarified that Bipolar disorder does not typically involve violence, unless someone had anger issues to begin with. They do not just walk the streets looking to jump people. Such a sick misrepresentation.
Think about this. Mental illnesses are biological illnesses that affect an organ of the body: the brain. The physical manifestations of the illness just happen to be behavioral, which isn't socially acceptable, God forbid someone not fall into society's neat little boxes. However, someone else could have an illness that affects their bladder and bowels (also organs of the body like the brain) and end up unable to control their bowel movements in public, also not socially acceptable, yet everyone would feel sorry for them and do whatever they could to accommodate them and society would expand their neat little boxes to help include that person. Double standards? I think so.
I just wonder when there is going to be more equality for mental illnesses. I wonder when there will be less stigma and more understanding. I wonder when I will be able to sit around a table with my coworkers and have an open discussion about my issues. Maybe in 20 years. Maybe in 10, if we are really lucky.
I found myself sitting amongst my coworkers yesterday at lunch as someone halfheartedly made a comment about another person being 'so bipolar.' this one comment spurred an entire discussion about people dealing with Bipolar disorder and how 'those Bipolars are so dangerous' and 'they can be so violent' and 'i'm not sure what is worse; bipolar or living with someone who has OCD.'
I was appalled, and mortified, and primarily just shocked at how easily these people degraded those who struggle with mental illnesses, and also how ignorant they were. I found myself wanting to interject all my firsthand knowledge yet not wanting to out myself, as no one at work really knows my background. Thankfully, someone finally spoke up and clarified that Bipolar disorder does not typically involve violence, unless someone had anger issues to begin with. They do not just walk the streets looking to jump people. Such a sick misrepresentation.
Think about this. Mental illnesses are biological illnesses that affect an organ of the body: the brain. The physical manifestations of the illness just happen to be behavioral, which isn't socially acceptable, God forbid someone not fall into society's neat little boxes. However, someone else could have an illness that affects their bladder and bowels (also organs of the body like the brain) and end up unable to control their bowel movements in public, also not socially acceptable, yet everyone would feel sorry for them and do whatever they could to accommodate them and society would expand their neat little boxes to help include that person. Double standards? I think so.
I just wonder when there is going to be more equality for mental illnesses. I wonder when there will be less stigma and more understanding. I wonder when I will be able to sit around a table with my coworkers and have an open discussion about my issues. Maybe in 20 years. Maybe in 10, if we are really lucky.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
fences...
Ever since I can remember, I've wanted a fence. Let me clarify. I've always wanted the white picket fence that surrounded my pretty house with my pretty garden and my pretty life. I wished over lit birthday candles for my white picket fence like a lot of little girls do. Then I got my Barbie house. It would have to do until I could get my own fence to proudly display and symbolize the perfect life. I continued to do all I could to ensure that one day I would end up with that coveted white picket fence, and instead, I turned myself inside out and into someone I never expected I'd be. Indeed, I did end up with a fenced in life, but I can guarantee you, it was no pretty white fence.
No, I've spent far more time than I'd care to admit teetering on the fence of complacency, hopping back and forth from sick to well and back again. I often think it feels safer just to reside on the fence rather than having to choose a side to wholly invest myself. Both sides feel equally treacherous in their own unique ways, so I stay atop the fence post, thinking I am invincible. Seldom does it occur to me that all it really takes is one strong gust of wind to blow me right out of my 'comfort zone' and onto a side, usually not the recovery side.
Maybe, if I planted myself on the ground rather than planting myself on the fence as often as I do, I would figure out that this journey is not a stagnant, still journey rather one that is always in motion. There is no time to stop and take root on the fence. I take 3 steps forward and one back. I hop over the fence, maybe take a quick rest on it but never get comfortable again because I have to keep moving one way or another. My goal now is to remind myself daily that just because I take a step back doesn't mean that has to be the direction I continue going. That is one of the most important things I am learning throughout this recovery process. I like to call this grace. I give myself grace and keep moving forward.
So, I don't have a white picket fence yet. No big deal. It definitely doesn't give me an excuse to settle for any other kind of fence in my life. I think life is more freeing without them anyway, right?
No, I've spent far more time than I'd care to admit teetering on the fence of complacency, hopping back and forth from sick to well and back again. I often think it feels safer just to reside on the fence rather than having to choose a side to wholly invest myself. Both sides feel equally treacherous in their own unique ways, so I stay atop the fence post, thinking I am invincible. Seldom does it occur to me that all it really takes is one strong gust of wind to blow me right out of my 'comfort zone' and onto a side, usually not the recovery side.
Maybe, if I planted myself on the ground rather than planting myself on the fence as often as I do, I would figure out that this journey is not a stagnant, still journey rather one that is always in motion. There is no time to stop and take root on the fence. I take 3 steps forward and one back. I hop over the fence, maybe take a quick rest on it but never get comfortable again because I have to keep moving one way or another. My goal now is to remind myself daily that just because I take a step back doesn't mean that has to be the direction I continue going. That is one of the most important things I am learning throughout this recovery process. I like to call this grace. I give myself grace and keep moving forward.
So, I don't have a white picket fence yet. No big deal. It definitely doesn't give me an excuse to settle for any other kind of fence in my life. I think life is more freeing without them anyway, right?
Friday, April 19, 2013
4.19.2013
Well hello there...it has been quite some time!
I am finally getting settled in and adjusting to all the changes that have just occured in my life, so I thought it was about time to do a little update.
Where to begin? I guess the most exciting update is that I have officially moved out of my parent's home and into my own apartment here in town. It is wonderful. Almost 1,000 square feet of my very own personal space. I have a screened in porch, tiled sunroom, kitchen with brand new stainless appliances, laundry with all new washer/dryers, huge walk in, separate vanity area for me to mess up with all my makeup (and still keep my bathroom looking presentable for guests, woo) and a great little bedroom. I even have a fireplace, though I will probably NEVER need it in Florida. The community itself is great, as well. Super shaded with awesome oaks and various other trees and it is really quiet and set back in a neighborhood. It has a 3 mile walking trail around the community, plus a renovated pool and a fitness center that is rather spacious. My little courtyard/area of units has been dubbed "moderation square" by the current residents. Most of my neighbors have lived here for 15-20 years and have done all kinds of landscaping and even wrapped hte giant oak in the middle with white christmas lights that they light up every night! It is so cute :) They invited me to the building maypole party they are throwing...cute, right? Anyway, I am loving living by myself. I can dance around in my underwear or turn my music up and I can keep the temperature exactly as I please. I do have to work a lot harder to keep myself accountable recovery wise, which is probably the hardest part about living alone.
Second exciting change - I started my new job on Monday. My official title is a Healh Coach for a newly formed ACO (accountable care organization). Basically, under the new healthcare reform they created these things called ACO's, which are supposed to shift healthcare to a more patient-centered, cost efficient type of care by targeting high risk patients (right now it's high risk medicare patients) being seen by doctors that have opted to join an ACO and then utilize clinical managers and health coaches to help work with them on preventative care and chronic disease management and keep them out of the hospitals and specialty offices and using their primary care doctors instead. So, my job will eventually be making hospital and home visits to patients, helping them manage their medications, utilize personal health records that they can take to their doctor visits with them, helping get them to doctor appointments and making good use of those appointments, helping with diet and smoking cessation and various other things that contribute to poor health. Basically, I will be doing a lot of case management. The program is still new so I am helping to get some things organized and in line so we can start actually working with the patients and not just the numbers. It should be interesting when I get to go out and do home visits! It has been a little stressful just because I don't really know a lot about what is going on right now with the business side of things but I am doing what I can on my end to better understand my role and what I will be doing. Here's to hoping.
Recovery wise, I am fighting the fight on a daily basis. Anyone who says recovery is easy is crazy. I have yet to get a therapist on board, which I know is probably not a good thing. I just keep wondering how I am going to fit in more appointments now that I am working but then I stop and think "i'm prioritizing work over recovery and it is supposed to be the other way around." I have had a hard time feeling motivated to go to my other appointments, like my dietitian and psychiatrist. I really like both of them, don't get me wrong, but I guess I just feel so far removed from an intense treatment team and intensive eating disorder work that I almost trick myself into thinking that I've done all the work that needed to be done and I am "over it." False. I clearly have days when I know I am not over it. In fact, that would be most days. It is just that those good days are the ones that cloud everything else and make me think I am all dandy. I also have some medical stuff going on that I need to get checked out, which I would normally be super on top of, but I have even been unmotivated to make some necessary doctor's appointments that I KNOW would provide me with answers and help me to feel better. I think I just feel SO burnt out on doctors and appointments that I don't want to do them anymore. I just want to go to work, come home, lay there, and then go to sleep. I have literally no energy. Maybe that is part of the medical mystery I'm also dealing with. Who knows.
What I do know is that I just wish I could wake up one day, just once, look in the mirror and be relatively okay with what I see. I know that what I am seeing is most likely not what other people see when they look at me, but even that logic doesn't settle my mind because I still have to look at the image staring back at me. I don't know how my lenses got so distorted in the first place. It's sad really, to think of how the brain can turn something so basic as a mirrored reflection into a torturous funhouse version that is so far from accurate...sorry, that was my little soapbox.
on a positive recovery note, i did get a milkshake today! i had been craving one for a lonnnng time so i finally got one, and drank it! and it was delish.
so yea, it is tough. everyday is a fight between body and mind. everyday is a war within myself. but each battle i win gets me one step closer to full freedom. so i'm going to keep fighting until i can't fight anymore.
much love, <3>
I am finally getting settled in and adjusting to all the changes that have just occured in my life, so I thought it was about time to do a little update.
Where to begin? I guess the most exciting update is that I have officially moved out of my parent's home and into my own apartment here in town. It is wonderful. Almost 1,000 square feet of my very own personal space. I have a screened in porch, tiled sunroom, kitchen with brand new stainless appliances, laundry with all new washer/dryers, huge walk in, separate vanity area for me to mess up with all my makeup (and still keep my bathroom looking presentable for guests, woo) and a great little bedroom. I even have a fireplace, though I will probably NEVER need it in Florida. The community itself is great, as well. Super shaded with awesome oaks and various other trees and it is really quiet and set back in a neighborhood. It has a 3 mile walking trail around the community, plus a renovated pool and a fitness center that is rather spacious. My little courtyard/area of units has been dubbed "moderation square" by the current residents. Most of my neighbors have lived here for 15-20 years and have done all kinds of landscaping and even wrapped hte giant oak in the middle with white christmas lights that they light up every night! It is so cute :) They invited me to the building maypole party they are throwing...cute, right? Anyway, I am loving living by myself. I can dance around in my underwear or turn my music up and I can keep the temperature exactly as I please. I do have to work a lot harder to keep myself accountable recovery wise, which is probably the hardest part about living alone.
Second exciting change - I started my new job on Monday. My official title is a Healh Coach for a newly formed ACO (accountable care organization). Basically, under the new healthcare reform they created these things called ACO's, which are supposed to shift healthcare to a more patient-centered, cost efficient type of care by targeting high risk patients (right now it's high risk medicare patients) being seen by doctors that have opted to join an ACO and then utilize clinical managers and health coaches to help work with them on preventative care and chronic disease management and keep them out of the hospitals and specialty offices and using their primary care doctors instead. So, my job will eventually be making hospital and home visits to patients, helping them manage their medications, utilize personal health records that they can take to their doctor visits with them, helping get them to doctor appointments and making good use of those appointments, helping with diet and smoking cessation and various other things that contribute to poor health. Basically, I will be doing a lot of case management. The program is still new so I am helping to get some things organized and in line so we can start actually working with the patients and not just the numbers. It should be interesting when I get to go out and do home visits! It has been a little stressful just because I don't really know a lot about what is going on right now with the business side of things but I am doing what I can on my end to better understand my role and what I will be doing. Here's to hoping.
Recovery wise, I am fighting the fight on a daily basis. Anyone who says recovery is easy is crazy. I have yet to get a therapist on board, which I know is probably not a good thing. I just keep wondering how I am going to fit in more appointments now that I am working but then I stop and think "i'm prioritizing work over recovery and it is supposed to be the other way around." I have had a hard time feeling motivated to go to my other appointments, like my dietitian and psychiatrist. I really like both of them, don't get me wrong, but I guess I just feel so far removed from an intense treatment team and intensive eating disorder work that I almost trick myself into thinking that I've done all the work that needed to be done and I am "over it." False. I clearly have days when I know I am not over it. In fact, that would be most days. It is just that those good days are the ones that cloud everything else and make me think I am all dandy. I also have some medical stuff going on that I need to get checked out, which I would normally be super on top of, but I have even been unmotivated to make some necessary doctor's appointments that I KNOW would provide me with answers and help me to feel better. I think I just feel SO burnt out on doctors and appointments that I don't want to do them anymore. I just want to go to work, come home, lay there, and then go to sleep. I have literally no energy. Maybe that is part of the medical mystery I'm also dealing with. Who knows.
What I do know is that I just wish I could wake up one day, just once, look in the mirror and be relatively okay with what I see. I know that what I am seeing is most likely not what other people see when they look at me, but even that logic doesn't settle my mind because I still have to look at the image staring back at me. I don't know how my lenses got so distorted in the first place. It's sad really, to think of how the brain can turn something so basic as a mirrored reflection into a torturous funhouse version that is so far from accurate...sorry, that was my little soapbox.
on a positive recovery note, i did get a milkshake today! i had been craving one for a lonnnng time so i finally got one, and drank it! and it was delish.
so yea, it is tough. everyday is a fight between body and mind. everyday is a war within myself. but each battle i win gets me one step closer to full freedom. so i'm going to keep fighting until i can't fight anymore.
much love, <3>
Saturday, March 23, 2013
the overdue florida post
i promised an official "welcome home to florida" post, so here it is...way delayed and overdue, but better late than never.
so, i got back home at the beginning of this month and moved back in with my parents. it has definitely been an adjustment living at home again but it's not as bad as i thought it would be. neither of my parents are home much, so it is kind of like having a big house all to myself. and i have cable, which i haven't had in almost 2 years so i am practically in heaven! (not to mention netflix, so i watched both seasons 1 and 2 of PLL finally!)
i brought cooper home to florida with me, but he didn't mesh well with my other two dogs and i had to keep him crated or outside on the porch every day in order for the three of them not to kill each other. he ended up being WAY more energetic than i originally thought, and i didn't have the ability to run him everyday like he needed and deserved, so my parents suggested i give him to a friend of ours whose dog just passed away. she has a son who was looking for a larger dog to train, so we went with that family. cooper has been in heaven since, and bonded immediately with them. he is doing great! i'm going to get another dog, but definitely one that is apartment sized and more of a lap dog...probably a shih tzu like i've had...or a peek-a-shit (a hybrid i created, haha!) or a bull-shit, or a shit-poo...nah, i'm just kidding ;)
i've been helping my sister-n-law out with her embroidery business while waiting to start my new job in the 15th of april. it helps me make some extra money and i get to spend my days with my sweet 18 month old nephew...i majorly missed that by living in tulsa!
After several weeks of trying to locate professionals, i finally got in to see my old dietitian, Alice, and got a new psychiatrist that i will see at the beginning of april. i still need to find a therapist, which is proving to be harder than expected. orlando is huge, but the resources are kind of limited here. my mom keeps telling me to get a therapist stat but i sometimes think i could do without. i know that isn't the case, but i've been almost a month now without one and it feels so "normal."
As for recovery, i'm doing alright so far. Definitely not perfect, and i have my struggles to work out but i'm generally holding my own. i did really well when i first got home but the body image piece has kicked in a lot lately and messed with my meal plan and behaviors some. meeting with my dietitian and meal planning have helped me regain perspective, now i just need to get out of my head and start remembering why recovery is so much better and why i NEED to maintain my weight/eat food/not work out/not use pills etc. i am also going to get involved with celebrate recovery as a free resource here in town and go to my dietitian's free group that she has going right now. maybe i can meet some people to have as support in the process.
i started looking at apartments today. i found two apartments that i really like and am having such a hard time narrowing it down. one apartment is located in a more secluded and wooded area with a 3 mile walking trail and is a one level spacious 1 bedroom. it has a screened in porch and comes with cable and valet trash. they have a small fitness center but a big pool and sun deck. the other apartment is actually a one bedroom townhome with an amazing bathroom, really nice kitchen, and modern amenities. no screened in porch. the complex has a tanning bed, sauna, hot tub, pools, and a 3,000 sq ft new fitness center that even offers zumba and aerobics classes. pretty cool stuff. they are both the same price and both higher than i would like to pay but nothing around here really falls into my "budget."
i'm just ready to have my own space. i'm going to have my big girl job and will be technically making enough money to live off of...i just won't be netting as much as i would like, so it makes me nervous. plus, i'm getting a "new" car, so i will have a car payment again.
oh, to be a grown up!
anyway, i've been doing way too much shopping lately and doing more tomorrow...going to look for a bathing suit at Urban Outfitters and going to check out IKEA...then hitting up the outlets. One thing i will never complain about here is the shopping :)) i was born for that!
well, y'all have a lovely evening <3>
so, i got back home at the beginning of this month and moved back in with my parents. it has definitely been an adjustment living at home again but it's not as bad as i thought it would be. neither of my parents are home much, so it is kind of like having a big house all to myself. and i have cable, which i haven't had in almost 2 years so i am practically in heaven! (not to mention netflix, so i watched both seasons 1 and 2 of PLL finally!)
i brought cooper home to florida with me, but he didn't mesh well with my other two dogs and i had to keep him crated or outside on the porch every day in order for the three of them not to kill each other. he ended up being WAY more energetic than i originally thought, and i didn't have the ability to run him everyday like he needed and deserved, so my parents suggested i give him to a friend of ours whose dog just passed away. she has a son who was looking for a larger dog to train, so we went with that family. cooper has been in heaven since, and bonded immediately with them. he is doing great! i'm going to get another dog, but definitely one that is apartment sized and more of a lap dog...probably a shih tzu like i've had...or a peek-a-shit (a hybrid i created, haha!) or a bull-shit, or a shit-poo...nah, i'm just kidding ;)
i've been helping my sister-n-law out with her embroidery business while waiting to start my new job in the 15th of april. it helps me make some extra money and i get to spend my days with my sweet 18 month old nephew...i majorly missed that by living in tulsa!
After several weeks of trying to locate professionals, i finally got in to see my old dietitian, Alice, and got a new psychiatrist that i will see at the beginning of april. i still need to find a therapist, which is proving to be harder than expected. orlando is huge, but the resources are kind of limited here. my mom keeps telling me to get a therapist stat but i sometimes think i could do without. i know that isn't the case, but i've been almost a month now without one and it feels so "normal."
As for recovery, i'm doing alright so far. Definitely not perfect, and i have my struggles to work out but i'm generally holding my own. i did really well when i first got home but the body image piece has kicked in a lot lately and messed with my meal plan and behaviors some. meeting with my dietitian and meal planning have helped me regain perspective, now i just need to get out of my head and start remembering why recovery is so much better and why i NEED to maintain my weight/eat food/not work out/not use pills etc. i am also going to get involved with celebrate recovery as a free resource here in town and go to my dietitian's free group that she has going right now. maybe i can meet some people to have as support in the process.
i started looking at apartments today. i found two apartments that i really like and am having such a hard time narrowing it down. one apartment is located in a more secluded and wooded area with a 3 mile walking trail and is a one level spacious 1 bedroom. it has a screened in porch and comes with cable and valet trash. they have a small fitness center but a big pool and sun deck. the other apartment is actually a one bedroom townhome with an amazing bathroom, really nice kitchen, and modern amenities. no screened in porch. the complex has a tanning bed, sauna, hot tub, pools, and a 3,000 sq ft new fitness center that even offers zumba and aerobics classes. pretty cool stuff. they are both the same price and both higher than i would like to pay but nothing around here really falls into my "budget."
i'm just ready to have my own space. i'm going to have my big girl job and will be technically making enough money to live off of...i just won't be netting as much as i would like, so it makes me nervous. plus, i'm getting a "new" car, so i will have a car payment again.
oh, to be a grown up!
anyway, i've been doing way too much shopping lately and doing more tomorrow...going to look for a bathing suit at Urban Outfitters and going to check out IKEA...then hitting up the outlets. One thing i will never complain about here is the shopping :)) i was born for that!
well, y'all have a lovely evening <3>
Thursday, March 7, 2013
my heart is heavy tonight...
i don't really have a lot to say tonight.
my heart is heavy and hurting for friends that i love and care about.
two of my dear friends are dying as a result of their eating disorders and without help, determination, and hope they aren't going to make their way out of the hell they are currently existing in. one of my friends is at ACUTE and not responding to the program there. i'm worried that if they can't even help her and if she won't allow them to help her then no one will be able to get through to her. her body is failing and so is her resolve. my other friend has been in and out of the medical hospital consistently since the fall and is only getting worse. her insurance refuses to cover her, which is absolutely wrong and absurd, therefore she can't get the help that she so desperately needs to get medically stabilized and mentally strong again.
it breaks my heart to see my friends struggling so much, and in such a fragile state. it scares me that either one of them could just not wake up one morning. it really makes me aware of the gravity of this illness. often times, actually more often than not, i think that i am invincible...that my body will never actually shut down or that i can be the exception that can restrict and purge and exercise without any serious consequences. when looking at myself and my own eating disorder, i never actually see myself potentially dying from it, even during the times that i have come so dangerously close to doing so. i always think i can push the envelope just a little bit further, yet, when i look at my friends i can see just how deadly they are and how devestated i would be if anything happened to my friends. i have lost several friends to the eating disorder and it was crushing. it also served as a major wake up call and reality check. i think it is always easier to see things and realize things when we look outside ourselves.
i just don't want this stupid illness to claim anymore innocent lives! it isn't fair! i wish things were different, that more help was readily available, that there was more awareness...i just wish i could do something for my friends, for others struggling, for everyone. it just makes me so sad.
anyway, i just needed to get that out.
i will do a "welcome home to florida blah blah" post tomorrow.
<3>
my heart is heavy and hurting for friends that i love and care about.
two of my dear friends are dying as a result of their eating disorders and without help, determination, and hope they aren't going to make their way out of the hell they are currently existing in. one of my friends is at ACUTE and not responding to the program there. i'm worried that if they can't even help her and if she won't allow them to help her then no one will be able to get through to her. her body is failing and so is her resolve. my other friend has been in and out of the medical hospital consistently since the fall and is only getting worse. her insurance refuses to cover her, which is absolutely wrong and absurd, therefore she can't get the help that she so desperately needs to get medically stabilized and mentally strong again.
it breaks my heart to see my friends struggling so much, and in such a fragile state. it scares me that either one of them could just not wake up one morning. it really makes me aware of the gravity of this illness. often times, actually more often than not, i think that i am invincible...that my body will never actually shut down or that i can be the exception that can restrict and purge and exercise without any serious consequences. when looking at myself and my own eating disorder, i never actually see myself potentially dying from it, even during the times that i have come so dangerously close to doing so. i always think i can push the envelope just a little bit further, yet, when i look at my friends i can see just how deadly they are and how devestated i would be if anything happened to my friends. i have lost several friends to the eating disorder and it was crushing. it also served as a major wake up call and reality check. i think it is always easier to see things and realize things when we look outside ourselves.
i just don't want this stupid illness to claim anymore innocent lives! it isn't fair! i wish things were different, that more help was readily available, that there was more awareness...i just wish i could do something for my friends, for others struggling, for everyone. it just makes me so sad.
anyway, i just needed to get that out.
i will do a "welcome home to florida blah blah" post tomorrow.
<3>
Thursday, February 28, 2013
the time has come...
I can't believe the time is actually here.
I pick my mom up from the airport tomorrow, we pack up Saturday and leave early Sunday morning. I still don't know how I feel. I'm excited, sad, scared, nervous, unsure...a little bit of everything all wrapped up in one. I know this is going to be such a huge change but I am really hoping that it will be the change that I need. I'm sad to leave all my soul sisters behind, but I know with time I will make friends in Florida and branch out.
I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get all the last minute things done, and I still have more to do. Work called and told me I didn't need to come back for the rest of the week, which sucks but was also a relief because I now have more time to get things done.Today turned out to be a great day, and a wonderful ending to this chapter here in Tulsa. I got to get in one last session with my OP therapist, which was really nice. I've been seeing her since 2009 on and off, mostly on, and so she has seen me through some major ups and downs. We both had our moment and cried a little. She is one of my favorite therapists and I will definitely miss seeing her.
After seeing her, I went over to Laureate to say goodbye to my inpatient therapist. I was nervous because of the weeks prior and all the chaos that had transpired but I am so glad that I went. I filled her in on my plans for Florida, updated her on how I've gotten myself back on track and am doing really well, and gave her a giraffe to add to her collection (whom I decided to name Emerson.) I'm pretty sure I saw a twinkle of pride in her eyes :) She is, by far, the best therapist I've ever had and I am really going to miss getting to see her around. As I was leaving she went to the couch and got "big hootie" the stuffed owl that I adopted in 2010 and toted around each time I went back inpatient. She handed him to me and told me he was mine. Who knew one could get so excited over a stuffed owl? It was quite possibly the best parting gift ever. Hootie has been with me through the long haul and he is going with me as I start a new chapter of my life. Love it.
I also ran into the program director and got to give her a hug, and saw both my dietitians and hugged their necks. I so needed that closure because I was worried that I was leaving on bad terms, or that I was running away without having said goodbye or cleared things up. It was much needed and I am glad I went back to say goodbye. They told me to come back and see them if I come back to town to visit. At least I know I haven't lost all support like I thought I had.
So anyway, I feel more prepared to make this journey now. Scary, but I think I can do it.
Now it's off to cinnabon with the girls and no-bake cookie making :)
<3>
I pick my mom up from the airport tomorrow, we pack up Saturday and leave early Sunday morning. I still don't know how I feel. I'm excited, sad, scared, nervous, unsure...a little bit of everything all wrapped up in one. I know this is going to be such a huge change but I am really hoping that it will be the change that I need. I'm sad to leave all my soul sisters behind, but I know with time I will make friends in Florida and branch out.
I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get all the last minute things done, and I still have more to do. Work called and told me I didn't need to come back for the rest of the week, which sucks but was also a relief because I now have more time to get things done.Today turned out to be a great day, and a wonderful ending to this chapter here in Tulsa. I got to get in one last session with my OP therapist, which was really nice. I've been seeing her since 2009 on and off, mostly on, and so she has seen me through some major ups and downs. We both had our moment and cried a little. She is one of my favorite therapists and I will definitely miss seeing her.
After seeing her, I went over to Laureate to say goodbye to my inpatient therapist. I was nervous because of the weeks prior and all the chaos that had transpired but I am so glad that I went. I filled her in on my plans for Florida, updated her on how I've gotten myself back on track and am doing really well, and gave her a giraffe to add to her collection (whom I decided to name Emerson.) I'm pretty sure I saw a twinkle of pride in her eyes :) She is, by far, the best therapist I've ever had and I am really going to miss getting to see her around. As I was leaving she went to the couch and got "big hootie" the stuffed owl that I adopted in 2010 and toted around each time I went back inpatient. She handed him to me and told me he was mine. Who knew one could get so excited over a stuffed owl? It was quite possibly the best parting gift ever. Hootie has been with me through the long haul and he is going with me as I start a new chapter of my life. Love it.
I also ran into the program director and got to give her a hug, and saw both my dietitians and hugged their necks. I so needed that closure because I was worried that I was leaving on bad terms, or that I was running away without having said goodbye or cleared things up. It was much needed and I am glad I went back to say goodbye. They told me to come back and see them if I come back to town to visit. At least I know I haven't lost all support like I thought I had.
So anyway, I feel more prepared to make this journey now. Scary, but I think I can do it.
Now it's off to cinnabon with the girls and no-bake cookie making :)
<3>
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Florida and leaving and closing chapters...
Well, it's official.
I'm moving back to the land of eternal sunshine (aka, Florida) a week from Saturday.
I can't believe I'm actually moving back on my own accord. I always said once I left Florida that I wasn't looking back and would never, ever move back. I had too much sunshine for a lifetime, and a few too many prehistoric bugs for my liking. I had enough of the plastic culture that was looks oriented and a climate that warranted shorts and tank tops nearly year round.
Yet, I find myself oddly excited about moving back this time. Don't get me wrong, I am SO sad to leave Tulsa. I have come to call Tulsa home. It is where I feel I fit the best out of all the places I've lived. It is a city that I just mesh with, and will miss the richness of this city. However, Tulsa also contains a lot of pain and sick memories. Orlando does too, but they aren't as fresh and raw.
I think it is time to move on from this chapter of my life and start a new one.
I had a tough week last week and I think it was the final straw in my decision making process. I started to seriously consider a move home and as soon as I started thinking about it, a seemingly perfect job fell into place that will allow me enough money to get an apartment and afford a "new" car. I will actually be in a job that will be utilizing my degree more than any other job I have held, and I will have a chance at advancement as well. I'm excited for that opportunity, but nervous as always to start something new.
So the decision has been made.
I will pack my car full, put my dog in the back, and my mom and I will embark on the 22 hour trip home to Florida. I'm leaving Tulsa a month before I start my other job to give me time to get a new treatment team established in Orlando, some time to spend a weekend or two at the beach, and time to do a little shopping, of course. I felt that was more conducive to recovery than leaving at the end of March and starting a new job right at the beginning of April.
It is always a little bittersweet when you close a chapter of your life and begin a new chapter. Leaving a piece of you behind is never easy. I feel like I will be leaving a big piece of me here in Tulsa, but hopefully some of that will be a positive piece. I hope I have made some kind of a positive impact while living here and I hope that I will make new, positive footprints as I go forth on my journey.
I'm going to miss everyone but I know that those who really matter to me will always be connected somehow.
I'm moving back to the land of eternal sunshine (aka, Florida) a week from Saturday.
I can't believe I'm actually moving back on my own accord. I always said once I left Florida that I wasn't looking back and would never, ever move back. I had too much sunshine for a lifetime, and a few too many prehistoric bugs for my liking. I had enough of the plastic culture that was looks oriented and a climate that warranted shorts and tank tops nearly year round.
Yet, I find myself oddly excited about moving back this time. Don't get me wrong, I am SO sad to leave Tulsa. I have come to call Tulsa home. It is where I feel I fit the best out of all the places I've lived. It is a city that I just mesh with, and will miss the richness of this city. However, Tulsa also contains a lot of pain and sick memories. Orlando does too, but they aren't as fresh and raw.
I think it is time to move on from this chapter of my life and start a new one.
I had a tough week last week and I think it was the final straw in my decision making process. I started to seriously consider a move home and as soon as I started thinking about it, a seemingly perfect job fell into place that will allow me enough money to get an apartment and afford a "new" car. I will actually be in a job that will be utilizing my degree more than any other job I have held, and I will have a chance at advancement as well. I'm excited for that opportunity, but nervous as always to start something new.
So the decision has been made.
I will pack my car full, put my dog in the back, and my mom and I will embark on the 22 hour trip home to Florida. I'm leaving Tulsa a month before I start my other job to give me time to get a new treatment team established in Orlando, some time to spend a weekend or two at the beach, and time to do a little shopping, of course. I felt that was more conducive to recovery than leaving at the end of March and starting a new job right at the beginning of April.
It is always a little bittersweet when you close a chapter of your life and begin a new chapter. Leaving a piece of you behind is never easy. I feel like I will be leaving a big piece of me here in Tulsa, but hopefully some of that will be a positive piece. I hope I have made some kind of a positive impact while living here and I hope that I will make new, positive footprints as I go forth on my journey.
I'm going to miss everyone but I know that those who really matter to me will always be connected somehow.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Decisions suck.
I'm facing a lot of decisions right now.
I have to move, one way or the other, but I'm trying to decide if I simply move into an apartment here in Tulsa and keep doing what I am doing or if I try going back home and starting over in Orlando. I hate making decisions and this one is a BIG decision. 50% of me is tied here to Tulsa because I finally found a full time job that I like and can do, and still do have some friends here, but I don't have the eating disorder support and connections like I used to. Who knows, that might be a good thing. The other half of me really does want to go home. I will be close to family, get to see my nephew grow up, have the beach back, and feel more secure if I am having a rough patch. I have a potential job in the works so as soon as I find out about that my decision will most likely be made. It is a pretty decent paying job that would allow me the funding to get my own apartment and still be close to family, get a new car, keep my sweet Cooper and practice independence. The hardest part will be establishing a team in Orlando. All I really have is the dietitian I saw before I left for Tulsa. My first instinct is to not see anyone and get going with "normalcy" but I know that is probably not a great idea, so I will just have to work to find providers who I mesh with and who will work with eating disorders.
I've gone back and forth about this like a million times this week. The whole issue with my treatment team here and all of that drama made me immediately call my mother and ask her to come get me, but then getting back to work made me want to stay here. If I do stay here, I will have to disconnect my ties with treatment here, other than my two providers I still have. Cutting ties will be really important. Gosh, I just don't know what to do. My parents really want me home. And of course, Orlando has the best shopping and eating and beaches and pools and nightlife ;) That is always a plus. I guess I would have to make some friends to enjoy that with.
For now, I will just continue to work and do my thing until I hear about the job in Florida and then go from there.
I have to move, one way or the other, but I'm trying to decide if I simply move into an apartment here in Tulsa and keep doing what I am doing or if I try going back home and starting over in Orlando. I hate making decisions and this one is a BIG decision. 50% of me is tied here to Tulsa because I finally found a full time job that I like and can do, and still do have some friends here, but I don't have the eating disorder support and connections like I used to. Who knows, that might be a good thing. The other half of me really does want to go home. I will be close to family, get to see my nephew grow up, have the beach back, and feel more secure if I am having a rough patch. I have a potential job in the works so as soon as I find out about that my decision will most likely be made. It is a pretty decent paying job that would allow me the funding to get my own apartment and still be close to family, get a new car, keep my sweet Cooper and practice independence. The hardest part will be establishing a team in Orlando. All I really have is the dietitian I saw before I left for Tulsa. My first instinct is to not see anyone and get going with "normalcy" but I know that is probably not a great idea, so I will just have to work to find providers who I mesh with and who will work with eating disorders.
I've gone back and forth about this like a million times this week. The whole issue with my treatment team here and all of that drama made me immediately call my mother and ask her to come get me, but then getting back to work made me want to stay here. If I do stay here, I will have to disconnect my ties with treatment here, other than my two providers I still have. Cutting ties will be really important. Gosh, I just don't know what to do. My parents really want me home. And of course, Orlando has the best shopping and eating and beaches and pools and nightlife ;) That is always a plus. I guess I would have to make some friends to enjoy that with.
For now, I will just continue to work and do my thing until I hear about the job in Florida and then go from there.
Monday, February 11, 2013
letting go and moving on...
It's one of those things that people say, you can't move on until you let go of the past. Letting go is the easy part, it's the moving on that's painful. So sometimes we fight it, try and keep things the same. Things can't stay the same though. At some point, you just have to let go. Move on. Because no matter how painful it is, it's the only way we grow. - grey's anatomy
when do you know it's time to move on? when do you know you've had enough and gotten all you can out of something and the time is right to let it go and just move past it? the letting go, though painstaking and excruciating, is the easy part in a sense. the moving on is the hardest part. i've done the letting go, now i have to move on. i was stuck, with my feet in the quicksand of my past, needing something to catapult me forward, to force me to move on. i've finally gotten what i need. i got the reassurance that i can do life without the caudling of an outpatient team/outpatient groups. i know how to follow a meal plan and maintain my weight and reach out when i need support. i don't need people there 24/7 telling me what to do and how to do it. if i haven't learned it by now, i doubt i ever will. plus, i'm tired of putting my trust in people who will inevitably disappoint and fail me, so it is easier and less messy to do it alone anyway. it may sound like i'm giving up or making a stupid decision, but for me it really is moving on. i've been in active therapy for 14 years now, and maybe what i need is some time away from all of this. maybe i need to try this for myself and see how things go. i can always start back up with people if i fall flat on my face, but i will never know if i don't try.
so, i'm letting go and moving on. i'm done with treatment and i'm done with living my life around appointments and providers and little pieces of paper. i'm ready to try out normal life and see how it goes. it's painful, and i will miss the people that helped me the most, but cutting ties and moving on is the best thing i can do right now for myself and my wellbeing.
we'll see how this goes.
when do you know it's time to move on? when do you know you've had enough and gotten all you can out of something and the time is right to let it go and just move past it? the letting go, though painstaking and excruciating, is the easy part in a sense. the moving on is the hardest part. i've done the letting go, now i have to move on. i was stuck, with my feet in the quicksand of my past, needing something to catapult me forward, to force me to move on. i've finally gotten what i need. i got the reassurance that i can do life without the caudling of an outpatient team/outpatient groups. i know how to follow a meal plan and maintain my weight and reach out when i need support. i don't need people there 24/7 telling me what to do and how to do it. if i haven't learned it by now, i doubt i ever will. plus, i'm tired of putting my trust in people who will inevitably disappoint and fail me, so it is easier and less messy to do it alone anyway. it may sound like i'm giving up or making a stupid decision, but for me it really is moving on. i've been in active therapy for 14 years now, and maybe what i need is some time away from all of this. maybe i need to try this for myself and see how things go. i can always start back up with people if i fall flat on my face, but i will never know if i don't try.
so, i'm letting go and moving on. i'm done with treatment and i'm done with living my life around appointments and providers and little pieces of paper. i'm ready to try out normal life and see how it goes. it's painful, and i will miss the people that helped me the most, but cutting ties and moving on is the best thing i can do right now for myself and my wellbeing.
we'll see how this goes.
Friday, February 8, 2013
pupdate :)
It has been one crazy week.
Biggest news of all, I got Cooper! He is a precious little bundle of non-stop energy! I love every inch of him, but I think he loves my nose more. I bought him all sorts of toys and bones and he still loves fingers, toes and noses the best. I definitely made a committment when I got him and if it was a mistake then it was the best mistake I've ever made.
I have a lot of other decisions to make in the near future. I need to be finding an apartment, stat. I have to move by the beginning of March and I keep forgetting that February is a short month. As soon as I get my next paycheck I am putting a deposit down on an apartment and starting to pack. I hate moving and packing but I am excited to move somewhere that has hot water and proper heat and reliable maintenance. Cooper can also run around without me panicking that he is going to ruin someone else's things. It will be nice to have my own space.
Work is going really well. I'm adapting to full time hours and responsibilities and it actually feels good to be responsible and have something to wake up for everyday. I am also liking my coworkers and my work environment, which is nice.
Recovery is going well, overall. Everyday is a battle but each day that I choose to show up and fight is a day I win. I never thought I could do this but I'm doing it, which feels amazing. And I am doing it for myself and no one else, which is also different.
Anyway, just a short update. Now to liter with cute puppy pictures!
Biggest news of all, I got Cooper! He is a precious little bundle of non-stop energy! I love every inch of him, but I think he loves my nose more. I bought him all sorts of toys and bones and he still loves fingers, toes and noses the best. I definitely made a committment when I got him and if it was a mistake then it was the best mistake I've ever made.
I have a lot of other decisions to make in the near future. I need to be finding an apartment, stat. I have to move by the beginning of March and I keep forgetting that February is a short month. As soon as I get my next paycheck I am putting a deposit down on an apartment and starting to pack. I hate moving and packing but I am excited to move somewhere that has hot water and proper heat and reliable maintenance. Cooper can also run around without me panicking that he is going to ruin someone else's things. It will be nice to have my own space.
Work is going really well. I'm adapting to full time hours and responsibilities and it actually feels good to be responsible and have something to wake up for everyday. I am also liking my coworkers and my work environment, which is nice.
Recovery is going well, overall. Everyday is a battle but each day that I choose to show up and fight is a day I win. I never thought I could do this but I'm doing it, which feels amazing. And I am doing it for myself and no one else, which is also different.
Anyway, just a short update. Now to liter with cute puppy pictures!
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Your test...
"Your test can become your testimony."
Healing comes when we least expect it.
I've sat around, knees bruised from hitting the ground in prayer, waiting for the one miracle to happen, to suddenly occur.
When nothing happened and nothing changed I got so defeated and discouraged. I slowly lost all faith that things could ever be different for me, or that I would ever experience healing.
It wasn't until recently, when I had something happen that pushed me and made me so obstinent and stubborn (in a good way) that I began to experience healing.
I'm two weeks completely behavior free now, and my thoughts are more clear than they have been in a long time. I can eat what I want and make choices based on hunger/fullness cues. I also listen to my cravings and try my best to honor them. I still have body image issues and I'm still fighting each day because each day is a battle, but I don't spend 24 hours a day thinking, overthinking, thinking myself into a panic.
For once, I'm seeing that things actually CAN get better. When I finally let go, I got back control of my life.
It's refreshing to think about that concept, and control in that way. You have to give it up to get it back.
I'm going to forever be "in recovery." For me, that viewpoint clicks because it doesn't leave me any room to get lax with my recovery and forget that I can so easily fall back into old patterns if I'm not paying attention. I am excited, though, to be able to use my journey in whatever way I can, to spread awareness, help others, and continue the healing for myself.
I want my test to have become my ultimate testimony.
Healing comes when we least expect it.
I've sat around, knees bruised from hitting the ground in prayer, waiting for the one miracle to happen, to suddenly occur.
When nothing happened and nothing changed I got so defeated and discouraged. I slowly lost all faith that things could ever be different for me, or that I would ever experience healing.
It wasn't until recently, when I had something happen that pushed me and made me so obstinent and stubborn (in a good way) that I began to experience healing.
I'm two weeks completely behavior free now, and my thoughts are more clear than they have been in a long time. I can eat what I want and make choices based on hunger/fullness cues. I also listen to my cravings and try my best to honor them. I still have body image issues and I'm still fighting each day because each day is a battle, but I don't spend 24 hours a day thinking, overthinking, thinking myself into a panic.
For once, I'm seeing that things actually CAN get better. When I finally let go, I got back control of my life.
It's refreshing to think about that concept, and control in that way. You have to give it up to get it back.
I'm going to forever be "in recovery." For me, that viewpoint clicks because it doesn't leave me any room to get lax with my recovery and forget that I can so easily fall back into old patterns if I'm not paying attention. I am excited, though, to be able to use my journey in whatever way I can, to spread awareness, help others, and continue the healing for myself.
I want my test to have become my ultimate testimony.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Newsflash...
If you...
don't like me
have a problem with me
are threatened by me
hate that i'm doing well
hate that i still have struggles
don't like that i'm a brunette
don't like that i live in tulsa
wish you could be like me
have nothing decent to say to me
have no soul
have no conscience
are basically just inhumane
then...
do not comment
do not read
do not waste my time
do not waste my blog space
do not waste the few braincells you have
do not bother because i do not give a shit.
don't like me
have a problem with me
are threatened by me
hate that i'm doing well
hate that i still have struggles
don't like that i'm a brunette
don't like that i live in tulsa
wish you could be like me
have nothing decent to say to me
have no soul
have no conscience
are basically just inhumane
then...
do not comment
do not read
do not waste my time
do not waste my blog space
do not waste the few braincells you have
do not bother because i do not give a shit.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
the weight of it all...
i'm writing this post as I am eating a handful of dark chocolate M-n-M's...yummm.
yesterday, i was at work and i got an e-mail from the mag house dietitian asking me if i was coming to my appointment. i had completely forgotten that i scheduled one with her, and figured that given recent events, she wasn't going to hold that appointment for me anyway. i e-mailed her back and told her i wasn't going to come see her because i didn't think i was allowed to, but she responded and told me that she would see me one last time so that i didn't have to go a week without seeing someone and so we could have a closing type session, as well.
Of course, part of my outpatient dietitian sessions include the weekly weigh-in. I had previously slipped out of my weight range while still living in mag house, so I was nervous about what the scale would say. I held my breath and waited while I watched her face. She said, "good!" Turns out, after everything that happened, and the abrupt leaving of mag house and loss of support, I managed to get myself back in my weight range! It's pretty big news because I've never been able to get back into my weight range once I've slipped out on an outpatient basis. And I felt really good about being back in it, as well.
I got to update her on how the week had been. I've been doing really well. No behaviors, low body image thoughts, managing my stress well, following my meal plan and managed to keep my weight up. I think I've shocked everyone by doing well, because they all expected me to turn to shit after being kicked out and after the chain of events that happened last Tuesday. They even went as far as calling my mother and telling her I should move home to Florida and not live alone. Now, I'm moving into my own apartment, and I officially got a puppy! I'm also working full time hours and so far so good. I'm physically exhausted but I think I will get used to that.
I don't know...I think something just clicked finally. Maybe I needed some space and distance. Or maybe I just needed my life to look a little different for once. Who knows. All I know is that I really want things to stay like this. Okay, okay. I'm realistic and know they won't always be good, but I know I'm stubborn and strong and a fighter and now I know I can make it through just about anything.
<3>
yesterday, i was at work and i got an e-mail from the mag house dietitian asking me if i was coming to my appointment. i had completely forgotten that i scheduled one with her, and figured that given recent events, she wasn't going to hold that appointment for me anyway. i e-mailed her back and told her i wasn't going to come see her because i didn't think i was allowed to, but she responded and told me that she would see me one last time so that i didn't have to go a week without seeing someone and so we could have a closing type session, as well.
Of course, part of my outpatient dietitian sessions include the weekly weigh-in. I had previously slipped out of my weight range while still living in mag house, so I was nervous about what the scale would say. I held my breath and waited while I watched her face. She said, "good!" Turns out, after everything that happened, and the abrupt leaving of mag house and loss of support, I managed to get myself back in my weight range! It's pretty big news because I've never been able to get back into my weight range once I've slipped out on an outpatient basis. And I felt really good about being back in it, as well.
I got to update her on how the week had been. I've been doing really well. No behaviors, low body image thoughts, managing my stress well, following my meal plan and managed to keep my weight up. I think I've shocked everyone by doing well, because they all expected me to turn to shit after being kicked out and after the chain of events that happened last Tuesday. They even went as far as calling my mother and telling her I should move home to Florida and not live alone. Now, I'm moving into my own apartment, and I officially got a puppy! I'm also working full time hours and so far so good. I'm physically exhausted but I think I will get used to that.
I don't know...I think something just clicked finally. Maybe I needed some space and distance. Or maybe I just needed my life to look a little different for once. Who knows. All I know is that I really want things to stay like this. Okay, okay. I'm realistic and know they won't always be good, but I know I'm stubborn and strong and a fighter and now I know I can make it through just about anything.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
it feels like life to me...
Something startling happened today.
I was shampooing my hair in the shower and it hit me (as most of my revelations occur in the shower, weird.) I haven't had negative body image thoughts in a couple days. In fact, I haven't even really thought much about my body, other than how it looked in the clothes I was trying on at the store. Even yesterday as I did a DEEP cleanse of my entire living space, including trying on everything in all of my closets to determine what to get rid of and what to keep, I still didn't dwell on my body or nitpick it. Now, part of that might have been because I had a few margaritas in me, but needless to say, this feeling of mind freeness is beyond bizarre, in a good way of course.
I think for me, when I realized I had no safety net left, and I knew I had to (was forced to) start creating distance, it has begun to register that I might actually be able to be freer one day. When I got kicked out of Mag House I felt jilted and hurt and embarrassed and humiliated. I couldn't see the forest for the trees, so to speak. All I could see and feel was those first, inital moments that stung so badly. Yet, once I got home, got unpacked, grocery shopped for myself, and settled back into my own home I started to feel normal again. Yes, I said normal. I use that word lightly, as I don't think there really is such a thing as normal. Anyhow, I settled back into MY normal.
I just have these ultra clear moments, like walking from my car into target, when I think to myself "I think I could get used to this body and this way of life." I haven't really ever had those before. It feels promising to me. I think I am beginning to heal. I just needed a swift kick in the ass to get me going.
I start back to work tomorrow, after having been gone a week. I'm likely getting a puppy this week and am also looking at apartments to move into. I'm ready to move on with life and really give life a chance. Who knows what could come of it. I will never know until I let myself let go of the eating disorder enough to gain distance, perspective, and hope.
I am mending.
I was shampooing my hair in the shower and it hit me (as most of my revelations occur in the shower, weird.) I haven't had negative body image thoughts in a couple days. In fact, I haven't even really thought much about my body, other than how it looked in the clothes I was trying on at the store. Even yesterday as I did a DEEP cleanse of my entire living space, including trying on everything in all of my closets to determine what to get rid of and what to keep, I still didn't dwell on my body or nitpick it. Now, part of that might have been because I had a few margaritas in me, but needless to say, this feeling of mind freeness is beyond bizarre, in a good way of course.
I think for me, when I realized I had no safety net left, and I knew I had to (was forced to) start creating distance, it has begun to register that I might actually be able to be freer one day. When I got kicked out of Mag House I felt jilted and hurt and embarrassed and humiliated. I couldn't see the forest for the trees, so to speak. All I could see and feel was those first, inital moments that stung so badly. Yet, once I got home, got unpacked, grocery shopped for myself, and settled back into my own home I started to feel normal again. Yes, I said normal. I use that word lightly, as I don't think there really is such a thing as normal. Anyhow, I settled back into MY normal.
I just have these ultra clear moments, like walking from my car into target, when I think to myself "I think I could get used to this body and this way of life." I haven't really ever had those before. It feels promising to me. I think I am beginning to heal. I just needed a swift kick in the ass to get me going.
I start back to work tomorrow, after having been gone a week. I'm likely getting a puppy this week and am also looking at apartments to move into. I'm ready to move on with life and really give life a chance. Who knows what could come of it. I will never know until I let myself let go of the eating disorder enough to gain distance, perspective, and hope.
I am mending.
Friday, January 25, 2013
my raw, revealing overdue update
Here is to my 200th post. It's going to be a raw, and very gut-wrenching one for me, but I need to speak the truth, so as to remind myself never to go backwards and to share with you just how entangling an eating disorder can truly be.
Where do I even begin? I last updated at the end of November. A lot has happened in two months time. I discharged from programming on December 28th and had quite possibly the best closing I've ever had. It was so nice to hear what people really thought of me. I moved upstairs to Magnolia House and immediately started working, doing patient admitting at the surgery center in the hospital. I wasn't working full time, but I was definitely working more than my allotted 20 hours that Mag House allowed. I learned quickly just how hard it is to take care of myself and my recovery while jumping head first into an almost full time job. I should have taken my month at Mag to take things slow but, as with most of us, I took on too much too fast.
I struggled in Mag House, even moreso than in programming. I was learning from my mistakes, but making them nonetheless. I also had to face a lot of decisions. Did I take the full time job? Move back to Florida? Get an apartment in Tulsa? I had to choose, and fast.
I was set to discharge from Mag House this coming Monday. I was already looking at apartments and dogs and getting excited about starting my life outside of Laureate. I thought I had everything going for me. Then I had a tough weekend, had to process it with my therapist which was incredibly difficult, and it all just hit me. I was about to become an adult, on my own, without any kind of back up plan. On Tuesday, after the session, I became incredibly anxious so I took some of my anxiety medication. When it didn't do anything, I took more. I waited for an effect but nothing happened so I took more. I stayed within my limits but took them all at once and then took my seroquel along with it. By dinner time, one of my peers came in to wake me and I couldn't wake up. I was out of my mind during dinner and group which concerned everyone. They had me evaulated by the nurse who then sent me to the Clinical Assessment Department of the hospital and from there I was admitted to the psych floor. I stayed until Thursday afternoon. I found out on Thursday that I was being kicked out of Mag House. I was devestated. I haven't stopped crying since I found this out. I realize they made their decision in order to keep the other girls safe and that there just wasn't much more they could do for me, but I felt SO rejected and hurt. I felt like everyone hated me and my treatment team, the few people who actually believed in me, had finally stopped believing in me. I don't even think the word devestated does my feelings justice. I got out of the psych unit on Thursday, made a beeline for my room at Mag, sobbed as I packed my things, and then took them home. I have to admit, it was such a lonely feeling leaving. It just wasn't the way I wanted to leave Laureate. I wanted people to be proud of me, not disappointed in me. I wanted them use me as an example, not warn others to stay away from me.
This has been a huge blow to my ego. I'll admit, my first thoughts were "I wish I had just ended it all" and "If everyone has finally given up on me, I might as well give up on me too." But I've decided that I'm going to use my God given obstinence and stubborness to prove everyone wrong. I'm going to do this. I am going to beat this eating disorder, even if I have to do it alone, on my own.
They have done all they can for me. It's kind of like a mama bird pushing the baby bird out of the nest. The mama bird has nursed the baby, fed it, nurtured it, and taught it all it knows. It has done all it can do, so it nudges and then pushes the baby bird out. It is then up to the baby bird to use its wings to fly or just to fall. Either way, it is terrifying for that baby bird and the bird must feel so abandoned and alone in those first few moments, but image the feeling of success when it spreads its fragile little wings and finds that it can fly.
I am the baby bird, learning to fly on my own. It hurts and I am terrified, but I am doing it. I'm going to prove everyone wrong and fly.
So yes, this past week has been awful and trying and quite the learning experience, and definitely full of hurts and tears, but I am going to come out on top, triumphant and victorious. Recovery isn't perfect, and going at it alone is going to make it that much harder, but I was born a resilient fighter so I can face the challenge.
I've got this.
xo
Where do I even begin? I last updated at the end of November. A lot has happened in two months time. I discharged from programming on December 28th and had quite possibly the best closing I've ever had. It was so nice to hear what people really thought of me. I moved upstairs to Magnolia House and immediately started working, doing patient admitting at the surgery center in the hospital. I wasn't working full time, but I was definitely working more than my allotted 20 hours that Mag House allowed. I learned quickly just how hard it is to take care of myself and my recovery while jumping head first into an almost full time job. I should have taken my month at Mag to take things slow but, as with most of us, I took on too much too fast.
I struggled in Mag House, even moreso than in programming. I was learning from my mistakes, but making them nonetheless. I also had to face a lot of decisions. Did I take the full time job? Move back to Florida? Get an apartment in Tulsa? I had to choose, and fast.
I was set to discharge from Mag House this coming Monday. I was already looking at apartments and dogs and getting excited about starting my life outside of Laureate. I thought I had everything going for me. Then I had a tough weekend, had to process it with my therapist which was incredibly difficult, and it all just hit me. I was about to become an adult, on my own, without any kind of back up plan. On Tuesday, after the session, I became incredibly anxious so I took some of my anxiety medication. When it didn't do anything, I took more. I waited for an effect but nothing happened so I took more. I stayed within my limits but took them all at once and then took my seroquel along with it. By dinner time, one of my peers came in to wake me and I couldn't wake up. I was out of my mind during dinner and group which concerned everyone. They had me evaulated by the nurse who then sent me to the Clinical Assessment Department of the hospital and from there I was admitted to the psych floor. I stayed until Thursday afternoon. I found out on Thursday that I was being kicked out of Mag House. I was devestated. I haven't stopped crying since I found this out. I realize they made their decision in order to keep the other girls safe and that there just wasn't much more they could do for me, but I felt SO rejected and hurt. I felt like everyone hated me and my treatment team, the few people who actually believed in me, had finally stopped believing in me. I don't even think the word devestated does my feelings justice. I got out of the psych unit on Thursday, made a beeline for my room at Mag, sobbed as I packed my things, and then took them home. I have to admit, it was such a lonely feeling leaving. It just wasn't the way I wanted to leave Laureate. I wanted people to be proud of me, not disappointed in me. I wanted them use me as an example, not warn others to stay away from me.
This has been a huge blow to my ego. I'll admit, my first thoughts were "I wish I had just ended it all" and "If everyone has finally given up on me, I might as well give up on me too." But I've decided that I'm going to use my God given obstinence and stubborness to prove everyone wrong. I'm going to do this. I am going to beat this eating disorder, even if I have to do it alone, on my own.
They have done all they can for me. It's kind of like a mama bird pushing the baby bird out of the nest. The mama bird has nursed the baby, fed it, nurtured it, and taught it all it knows. It has done all it can do, so it nudges and then pushes the baby bird out. It is then up to the baby bird to use its wings to fly or just to fall. Either way, it is terrifying for that baby bird and the bird must feel so abandoned and alone in those first few moments, but image the feeling of success when it spreads its fragile little wings and finds that it can fly.
I am the baby bird, learning to fly on my own. It hurts and I am terrified, but I am doing it. I'm going to prove everyone wrong and fly.
So yes, this past week has been awful and trying and quite the learning experience, and definitely full of hurts and tears, but I am going to come out on top, triumphant and victorious. Recovery isn't perfect, and going at it alone is going to make it that much harder, but I was born a resilient fighter so I can face the challenge.
I've got this.
xo
Thursday, November 29, 2012
5-10-15
In our relapse prevention groups yesterday and today we did an exercise called the "5-10-15 year chair" exercise. Basically, you start by sitting in the first chair, the 5 year chair. You add 5 years onto your life and then proceed to describe what you image the next 5 years of your life would look like if you continued to stay in a state of relapse and disorder. If you are lucky enough to think you would ever be able to make it another ten or fifteen years, you move down to the next two chairs and describe life from there. After that is done, you stand up and start over, only this time imagining what life would be like with 5,10,15 years of recovery. It is actually a very sombering and eye opening exercise and one that I have done on multiple occasions and managed to gain something from each time I participate. This time, because of where I am in the recovery process, I decided to write out my 5-10-15 year life plan for both relapse and recovery to remind myself of the options I have before me and the chance I have to make life better, richer, and fuller...
5 years in relapse:
My body has begun to shut down, organ system by organ system. I am too weak and too depressed to hold down a job, so I find myself living in a group home or shelter of some sort. My family would have given up on me by now and my friends would have had enough and couldn't stand by and watch me slowly kill myself. I'd be alone in the world. I'd be suicidal and think about killing myself on a daily basis. Things and people I value wouldn't be enough motivation to keep fighting. I would have simply lost all passion and desire for life. I'd be unable to perform activities of daily living without extreme effort so I'd most likely forfeit hygeine to lay in bed all day. I'd become someone I absolutely despised and wall off from the world. I'd be incredibly lucky if I actually lived to see another 5 years in relapse. There wouldn't even be a 10 or 15 year shot because I would have died of eating disorder complications or by my own hand before 5 years ever passed.
Now, on to the brighter side of recovery :)
5 years in recovery:
Life will most likely not look perfect, as early recovery is never without slips and setbacks, but I will have a much greater footing and feel much more confident in my ability to sustain recovery. I will value my life and my worth and not think about death on a near daily basis. I will have figured out what my passions are and decided to either go back to school or find a career that suits my passions. I may decide to travel, or even do missions work. Because I will have learned how to love myself, I can now allow others to love me and will have entered into a romantic relationship and may even be married within 5 years. I will be able to hold down a job so I can save money to take a european vacation. I will have had some of my writing published and maybe been asked to speak about my experiences at schools or churches. I will still see an outpatient team and will still follow a meal plan for the first few years.
10 years in recovery:
I will be 37 years old. I will have a stable, steady income from a job that I enjoy and a job that gives to others and allows me to feel fulfilled. I will have a family by this point in time. I'll have children, hopefully girls, and will raise them to honor their bodies, their hunger and fullness cues, and their passions in life. My marriage will be strong because I will have learned how to set healthy boundaries and have open, honest communication. I will have opened my own store as a side job called LBCreations, and will sell homemade items and a line of gluten free baked goods. I will be a PTA mom and an active member of my church. I still keep in touch with my treatment team and see a therapist when I need to. I will have learned how to eat intuitively by this point in time.
15 years in recovery:
42! Wow, I never thought I would live to see 30, let alone my 40's. My kids are growing up rapidly, and are becoming strong and independent young women. I do worry about them simply because they have genetics at play, but I have raised them to the best of my ability and shared with them my own experiences in hopes that they are aware of the dangers of eating disorders. The family has moved by this point in time into our dream home in Colorado. I work as a clinical psychology researcher and freelance write on the side. My husband is a pilot ;) I moved LBCreations to Colorado and it has taken off. I'm actively involved in eating disorder awareness and prevention and speak locally and statewide about my experiences. I also give back to my community by volunteering. My family and I travel in our free time and take up new hobbies in order to bond. I no longer let food or weight define me, rather I find my self-worth in my ability to be a good mother, a compassionate human being, a peaceful person, etc. Recovery feels amazing and I am so thankful I stuck it out.
So, I know it most likely won't look just like that but the point of the activity was to get us to think of the reality of living more years with the eating disorder and how deadly that will be and then to think of the alternative - life in recovery, and how amazing that is going to be. Not every day will be perfect but my worst day in recovery is bound to be better than my very best day in the illness.
In session today we looked at some old sick pictures at my stance and my closeness in proximity to others when I am sick and she told me that when I am sick I just look empty. She said had she not known me beforehand, looking at those pictures she would have simply thought "how sad and vacant and sick she is." my best days in the illness consisted of emptiness and vacancy and separation and blackness. A bad day in recovery has GOT to be better than that, so I am willing to shoot for the 5,10,15 years of recovery vs. relapse.
that's it for tonight.
much love. <3>
5 years in relapse:
My body has begun to shut down, organ system by organ system. I am too weak and too depressed to hold down a job, so I find myself living in a group home or shelter of some sort. My family would have given up on me by now and my friends would have had enough and couldn't stand by and watch me slowly kill myself. I'd be alone in the world. I'd be suicidal and think about killing myself on a daily basis. Things and people I value wouldn't be enough motivation to keep fighting. I would have simply lost all passion and desire for life. I'd be unable to perform activities of daily living without extreme effort so I'd most likely forfeit hygeine to lay in bed all day. I'd become someone I absolutely despised and wall off from the world. I'd be incredibly lucky if I actually lived to see another 5 years in relapse. There wouldn't even be a 10 or 15 year shot because I would have died of eating disorder complications or by my own hand before 5 years ever passed.
Now, on to the brighter side of recovery :)
5 years in recovery:
Life will most likely not look perfect, as early recovery is never without slips and setbacks, but I will have a much greater footing and feel much more confident in my ability to sustain recovery. I will value my life and my worth and not think about death on a near daily basis. I will have figured out what my passions are and decided to either go back to school or find a career that suits my passions. I may decide to travel, or even do missions work. Because I will have learned how to love myself, I can now allow others to love me and will have entered into a romantic relationship and may even be married within 5 years. I will be able to hold down a job so I can save money to take a european vacation. I will have had some of my writing published and maybe been asked to speak about my experiences at schools or churches. I will still see an outpatient team and will still follow a meal plan for the first few years.
10 years in recovery:
I will be 37 years old. I will have a stable, steady income from a job that I enjoy and a job that gives to others and allows me to feel fulfilled. I will have a family by this point in time. I'll have children, hopefully girls, and will raise them to honor their bodies, their hunger and fullness cues, and their passions in life. My marriage will be strong because I will have learned how to set healthy boundaries and have open, honest communication. I will have opened my own store as a side job called LBCreations, and will sell homemade items and a line of gluten free baked goods. I will be a PTA mom and an active member of my church. I still keep in touch with my treatment team and see a therapist when I need to. I will have learned how to eat intuitively by this point in time.
15 years in recovery:
42! Wow, I never thought I would live to see 30, let alone my 40's. My kids are growing up rapidly, and are becoming strong and independent young women. I do worry about them simply because they have genetics at play, but I have raised them to the best of my ability and shared with them my own experiences in hopes that they are aware of the dangers of eating disorders. The family has moved by this point in time into our dream home in Colorado. I work as a clinical psychology researcher and freelance write on the side. My husband is a pilot ;) I moved LBCreations to Colorado and it has taken off. I'm actively involved in eating disorder awareness and prevention and speak locally and statewide about my experiences. I also give back to my community by volunteering. My family and I travel in our free time and take up new hobbies in order to bond. I no longer let food or weight define me, rather I find my self-worth in my ability to be a good mother, a compassionate human being, a peaceful person, etc. Recovery feels amazing and I am so thankful I stuck it out.
So, I know it most likely won't look just like that but the point of the activity was to get us to think of the reality of living more years with the eating disorder and how deadly that will be and then to think of the alternative - life in recovery, and how amazing that is going to be. Not every day will be perfect but my worst day in recovery is bound to be better than my very best day in the illness.
In session today we looked at some old sick pictures at my stance and my closeness in proximity to others when I am sick and she told me that when I am sick I just look empty. She said had she not known me beforehand, looking at those pictures she would have simply thought "how sad and vacant and sick she is." my best days in the illness consisted of emptiness and vacancy and separation and blackness. A bad day in recovery has GOT to be better than that, so I am willing to shoot for the 5,10,15 years of recovery vs. relapse.
that's it for tonight.
much love. <3>
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
just another lil update...
whew.
what an emotional two weeks it has been. i've been dealing with a lot over the past couple weeks and really feel like i am at a breaking point. today, i found myself in session saying that i felt so pulled and picked apart that i felt as if i were in pieces. my therapist told me that being in pieces may be exactly what i need right now so that i can begin to pick up those pieces and put myself back together how i want to be, not how i've been or how i'm expected to be. she is right...being broken allows for healing and growth and change but it is such a painful process. i cannot emphasize that enough. i'm doing harder work this time around. actually, let me rephrase that...i'm doing the absolute hardest work i've yet to do this time around and it is grueling. yet it is necessary. i'm having to take a look at the things i don't like about myself, at the anger i have stuffed for years and years, at the passive agressive sarcastic side of me that has served as a defense mechanism for way too long, and it is less than enjoyable. i don't think i've have one session yet that i haven't cried in. i'm not sure if you understand but that is a big deal. a huge deal. i don't cry easily, and especially not in groups and sessions. i've really let my guard down and let myself be vulnerable to the process and to the work and to all the demands being placed on me and things being asked of me. i've had more days than not these past two weeks that i just wanted to quit and give up. in fact, i found myself today saying how i'd love to just throw my hands up, quit, and go home. i felt worthless and incapable of recovery. but i was challenged on my thinking and with a little pushing and challenging, i know that these things are untrue. my therapist told me that if she didn't think i could do it, if i wasn't worth it, that she wouldn't put so much energy into having the tough but change producing sessions with me. it was nice to hear someone say they thought i was worth it. i won't forget that one.
i am capable of doing this. even on my hardest days on this journey to recovery i still feel better than my best days in the illness. sometimes i forget that, but don't worry, i have it neatly documented so that i can never forget what a day in the illness was like. it serves as a reminder to me to never, ever go back down that road again. i realize i have many flaws and many character traits that i find less than desirable and having to face me and my emotions and my generally messy self as a whole is not fun, but it is a necessary step in the process of change. i cannot change unless i get to know what needs changing. i want to be a better person moving toward recovery, not a bitter, incongruent, illness-defined person staying stagnant in life. i know what to do...now i just need the courage and the strength and the will to do it.
much love to you all and thank y'all for the support through this bumpy ride!
<3>
what an emotional two weeks it has been. i've been dealing with a lot over the past couple weeks and really feel like i am at a breaking point. today, i found myself in session saying that i felt so pulled and picked apart that i felt as if i were in pieces. my therapist told me that being in pieces may be exactly what i need right now so that i can begin to pick up those pieces and put myself back together how i want to be, not how i've been or how i'm expected to be. she is right...being broken allows for healing and growth and change but it is such a painful process. i cannot emphasize that enough. i'm doing harder work this time around. actually, let me rephrase that...i'm doing the absolute hardest work i've yet to do this time around and it is grueling. yet it is necessary. i'm having to take a look at the things i don't like about myself, at the anger i have stuffed for years and years, at the passive agressive sarcastic side of me that has served as a defense mechanism for way too long, and it is less than enjoyable. i don't think i've have one session yet that i haven't cried in. i'm not sure if you understand but that is a big deal. a huge deal. i don't cry easily, and especially not in groups and sessions. i've really let my guard down and let myself be vulnerable to the process and to the work and to all the demands being placed on me and things being asked of me. i've had more days than not these past two weeks that i just wanted to quit and give up. in fact, i found myself today saying how i'd love to just throw my hands up, quit, and go home. i felt worthless and incapable of recovery. but i was challenged on my thinking and with a little pushing and challenging, i know that these things are untrue. my therapist told me that if she didn't think i could do it, if i wasn't worth it, that she wouldn't put so much energy into having the tough but change producing sessions with me. it was nice to hear someone say they thought i was worth it. i won't forget that one.
i am capable of doing this. even on my hardest days on this journey to recovery i still feel better than my best days in the illness. sometimes i forget that, but don't worry, i have it neatly documented so that i can never forget what a day in the illness was like. it serves as a reminder to me to never, ever go back down that road again. i realize i have many flaws and many character traits that i find less than desirable and having to face me and my emotions and my generally messy self as a whole is not fun, but it is a necessary step in the process of change. i cannot change unless i get to know what needs changing. i want to be a better person moving toward recovery, not a bitter, incongruent, illness-defined person staying stagnant in life. i know what to do...now i just need the courage and the strength and the will to do it.
much love to you all and thank y'all for the support through this bumpy ride!
<3>
Saturday, November 10, 2012
long overdue update...
Hello!
After a monthish of getting settled back in here at the big L, I finally feel ready to write a short update on how things have been going. I kept it fairly quiet that I was in need of treatment again because I felt ashamed and embarrassed, but I think more and more people are figuring it out so I decided to just go ahead and write about it. I don't feel nearly as ashamed anymore because I know that even though it was a setback having to come back, it was not the end of my recovery and I can now continue moving forward.
When I left in July I was already experiencing the onset of a severe depressive episode. In fact, I started experiencing the symptoms before I even left Mag House in July. The more depressed I became the less I ate and the less I ate the more depressed I became. It just turned into a vicious cycle that I couldn't get myself out of and before I knew it, I spiraled so far and so fast that I just couldn't catch myself. I wanted to, and I tried really hard OP, but I just couldn't do it. I also developed some gastrointestinal problems which made eating very difficult so it excelerated the downward spiral. I knew I was in trouble and needed help but I had become so depressed that I just wanted out of life altogether. I really did just want to die. I didn't think I had any strength left to fight. With the help and encouragement of my team, they kept me alive and together enough until I could get back in and get the help I desperately needed.
So I readmitted on the 8th of October. What was supposed to be a tune up has obviously not been just a tune up. I've been here a month and still have quite a ways to go. My first month has been challenging to say the least. I've struggled with being able to stop the excessive movement and exercise and had some slips with self-harm but through those struggles I've been able to figure out certain emotions that trigger certain behaviors and they have also shown me just how much I really do hate this eating disorder. On friday we took the pumpkins we painted on Halloween and smashed them with hammers while yelling things we were angry about. It was SO freeing. I have been struggling with anger and allowing myself to get angry for a long time, so being able to and having permission to be angry was exactly what I needed.
I've also been doing a lot of work around my identity and how wrapped up my identity is in the eating disorder. After all, it developed alongside my personality and the crucial childhood years so I don't really know or remember anything other than an eating disordered life. I'm having to figure out who I am apart from the eating disorder and sort of build myself from scratch. Hard work, to say the least.
As far as fun goes, I've managed to connect with some peers and start speaking up more in groups. I dressed up as a nun for halloween (at a catholic hospital haha) and feel a little more at ease in the group. I got my tube pulled which allowed me to finally move to Canyon Creek (the residential building) yesterday so I feel even more connected and free now that I'm off the locked unit. I have been able to start going on outings and get to go to church, as well.
I am having a hard time following the guidelines of my contract (they make you make a contract if you come back a second, third, fourth time etc). I was not allowed to bring a flat iron, any make up or cover up, no accessories, no dressy clothes or skirts, no bed linens, and only two pair of shoes. I've started to outgrow some of my jeans and so I feel self-conscious. The first thing I want is a flat iron and make up to distract and make me feel better on the outside but I don't have any of that so I'm having to learn to cope otherwise. It is HARD but a good challenge for me. Sweats and tee's it is for me.
Anyway, I've been doing a lot of hard work and am finally starting to feel better physically and mentally. I think I'm finally starting to get the hang of this and think I can actually make it stick this time. Here's to hoping!
Much love <3>
After a monthish of getting settled back in here at the big L, I finally feel ready to write a short update on how things have been going. I kept it fairly quiet that I was in need of treatment again because I felt ashamed and embarrassed, but I think more and more people are figuring it out so I decided to just go ahead and write about it. I don't feel nearly as ashamed anymore because I know that even though it was a setback having to come back, it was not the end of my recovery and I can now continue moving forward.
When I left in July I was already experiencing the onset of a severe depressive episode. In fact, I started experiencing the symptoms before I even left Mag House in July. The more depressed I became the less I ate and the less I ate the more depressed I became. It just turned into a vicious cycle that I couldn't get myself out of and before I knew it, I spiraled so far and so fast that I just couldn't catch myself. I wanted to, and I tried really hard OP, but I just couldn't do it. I also developed some gastrointestinal problems which made eating very difficult so it excelerated the downward spiral. I knew I was in trouble and needed help but I had become so depressed that I just wanted out of life altogether. I really did just want to die. I didn't think I had any strength left to fight. With the help and encouragement of my team, they kept me alive and together enough until I could get back in and get the help I desperately needed.
So I readmitted on the 8th of October. What was supposed to be a tune up has obviously not been just a tune up. I've been here a month and still have quite a ways to go. My first month has been challenging to say the least. I've struggled with being able to stop the excessive movement and exercise and had some slips with self-harm but through those struggles I've been able to figure out certain emotions that trigger certain behaviors and they have also shown me just how much I really do hate this eating disorder. On friday we took the pumpkins we painted on Halloween and smashed them with hammers while yelling things we were angry about. It was SO freeing. I have been struggling with anger and allowing myself to get angry for a long time, so being able to and having permission to be angry was exactly what I needed.
I've also been doing a lot of work around my identity and how wrapped up my identity is in the eating disorder. After all, it developed alongside my personality and the crucial childhood years so I don't really know or remember anything other than an eating disordered life. I'm having to figure out who I am apart from the eating disorder and sort of build myself from scratch. Hard work, to say the least.
As far as fun goes, I've managed to connect with some peers and start speaking up more in groups. I dressed up as a nun for halloween (at a catholic hospital haha) and feel a little more at ease in the group. I got my tube pulled which allowed me to finally move to Canyon Creek (the residential building) yesterday so I feel even more connected and free now that I'm off the locked unit. I have been able to start going on outings and get to go to church, as well.
I am having a hard time following the guidelines of my contract (they make you make a contract if you come back a second, third, fourth time etc). I was not allowed to bring a flat iron, any make up or cover up, no accessories, no dressy clothes or skirts, no bed linens, and only two pair of shoes. I've started to outgrow some of my jeans and so I feel self-conscious. The first thing I want is a flat iron and make up to distract and make me feel better on the outside but I don't have any of that so I'm having to learn to cope otherwise. It is HARD but a good challenge for me. Sweats and tee's it is for me.
Anyway, I've been doing a lot of hard work and am finally starting to feel better physically and mentally. I think I'm finally starting to get the hang of this and think I can actually make it stick this time. Here's to hoping!
Much love <3>
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