Tired

I'm torn about writing tonight. I'm tired, my stomach hurts, and I want nothing more then to take a hot shower and curl up in bed with a good book. But I have so much on my mind, and I'm hoping that maybe writing will help me clear my thoughts and enable me to make some sense of what exactly is going on in my head.

I've been running around like crazy since the beginning of this week. A part of me loves the constant action, the added stress and the fact that I'm perpetually doing something. But it's also one of my best coping mechanisms. It's my classic “running away” maneuver. I make myself busy with so many other things that I don't have time to deal with the issues that are really bothering me. And there is something bothering me.
The problem is that I don't know what's wrong. I feel scared of the future. Not the future in general, but mainly relating to my ED recovery. I know that recovery means health and a happiness and all sorts of good, wonderful things. The concept of being free of any food issues is indescribably appealing to me. Yet at the same time the specific steps are scaring me. I don't want to see my psychologist, I don't want to get weighed. I just want to be left alone. I want everything to be fine. I've felt great these past few days – energetic, without food or body issues. I know deep inside I'm not better, but I feel better. It's like I had a long-term illness but suddenly all the symptoms disappeared. I FEEL better, so I get annoyed when people talk about me being sick. I am still sick, but I don't want to be. I want to be gaining weight and keep up my current lifestyle. I just want to be free to move on with my life.

Every day I tell myself I will push myself harder. Some days I do, others I don't. But for the most part I am happy, something I could never say when in the depths of my ED. So why does that have to change? Why can't I just be happy.

Tomorrow I am scheduling an appointment with my therapist because it's the right thing to do. I'm dreading it with all my heart. But enough is enough. It's time to move on. It's time for me to start taking my own advice and just stick to what I'm doing, to keep traveling the road I started on. I'm just tired, so tired....

I know!

Do you ever have the feeling that you just intuitively “know” something? Obviously this doesn't count if we're talking about obvious facts here. Usually I get this feeling in regards to people and their moods and feelings, situations or important things that are about to happen in the future. Call it intuition, call it a hunch, call it being a sensitive person – whatever you want to call it, it happens to me. For instance, I will see two people who met only minutes before and I just see them together. There's no reason, no noticeable “chemistry” between them, it's something I just know. Sure enough a few months later they're dating. Or a friend is acting odd, not in a bad way, just not like their usual selves. I usually “know” the reason why. And along with knowing comes this feeling of certainty. There's no logical explanation for anything, it's something that just happens to me.The sad thing is I rarely get these “intuitive hints” in regards to myself.

But finally it's happened to me. For the longest time I've felt lost in a sense. I felt like my life had no direction, no purpose, no clear goal. And it translated into my ED. In the back of my mind I expected to die from medical consequences related to my eating disorder. I stopped making plans and dreams because what was the point? Then after spending some time in IP, I slowly started trying to plan my life again. But I just couldn't find anything worth living, worth fighting for. Yes I had friends and family who loved me, but I just didn't feel any driving, motivating force behind staying in recovery. I slipped back, and then I got scarred. I realized I wanted my life to be more then just my eating disorder. I didn't know what was in my future yet, but I decided that I wanted to find out. So I reached out for help, and it's the best decision I could have made. Although I still have been battling with finding a reason for my life, or rather, a direction and a goal, up until just recently. But now I have found it.

I want to be a registered dietitian. Then , after a few years of experience, I want to work with people recovering from ED's. I want to be able to help them because I can relate in the way that few other people can. There's just something different about having “book knowledge” of ED's and actually having lived through and recovered from one and being able to draw from personal experience. In addition to that I want to be able to offer my services pro-bono for those who can't afford it, or who's insurances don't include this type of thing. This is something I KNOW I am supposed to do. The feeling is so strong, so unshakable, it can't be wrong. And finally I have a definite reason that keeps me going.


This is a big, bold dream, but I want to throw myself into achieving it. There is some paper work being processed that will enable me to pursue further education, and I can't do anything to influence that. But I know that I need to make some money so I can pay for my studies. I also want to read up as much as I can so I have at least of a bit of a working knowledge as to my subject . And most importantly I need to kick this sicknesses ass so I can do all this without any delays or complications. The last point is one of the hardest but it is doable none the less. Everything is possible if you try hard enough. I firmly believe that. Now all I have to do is remind myself of my goals day in and day out. There's no excuse for a “bad day”. I want every day to be a step towards full health and the realization of my dream.

Do you have a dream or vision for your life that keeps you motivated?


The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination



Tough times never last, but tough people do.

Dreams.

It's been far too long since I last posted.

Nothing bad has been happening with me, despite what my last post has implied. I was having a really rough day as well as feeling hurt and misunderstood by the people around me. The past is the past though, that day is done and over and I am faced with new prospects and challenges.


I realized that somewhere down the line in my life I lost the ability to dream. I made plans and schedules- actually to the point I was compulsive about it. But I never thought about what I really wanted to do, what I wanted to accomplish. I guess in a sense I was scared. I'm a realist (in every sense of the word) and I'm not the type of person that sees the world through rose colored glasses. This isn't to say that I always see the glass as "half empty" (though I have been guilty of that on some occasions as well). But every time people would use the phrases "Dream big." or "Shoot for the stars", I would just smile and shake my head. Sure, that type of thing might be for other people, but not for me.
But why not? Why don't I have the right to dream just like other people? Why do I bind myself to what I think I can "realistically" accomplish. Who decided what is realistic for me anyways? I did, and basing it on the way I see myself, that's not exactly an accurate gauge.

A quote that's been really going through my head recently is "If the possibility of failure was removed, what would you attempt to achieve?" Because that is at the core of what has discouraged me from attempting something "big" - fear of failure. With my perfectionist tendencies I want to be the best, and if I can't be the best then I might as well not try at all. But without failing sometimes, how can we succeed? Without making mistakes how can we learn what does work? And I realized something. I can go through life "playing it safe", doing what I know I can do. Or I can expand my horizons and do something that I want, that I REALLY want, even if it seems unlikely at this point. I need to have something to motivate and push me in life - not just because of my recovery from this ED. I need it so I have a reason, a passion, a driving force. People that meet me say I'm a passionate person, and when I want something I get it done. For some time this hasn't been true, because I've had nothing to drive me. But I do now. I'm dreaming big and shooting for the stars. And we just have to wait and see what happens.

Sad

I need a hug :(

Treating myself with respect.

This is an odd, new concept I've been playing with recently. I realize that all too often I ignore what my body needs in favor of whats convenient. Example: most people are hungry - they eat. I stop and think "Do I really NEED to eat? I mean, it's so inconvenient to go and make myself something. I'll wait another 30 minutes or so till I'm finished this." Or if I'm tired I just drink something caffeinated as opposed to taking a nap. Ok caffeine is helpful sometimes, because there are times you can't just stop and take a nap, but that's besides the point. The point is that I'm used to doing what I want as opposed to doing what I should.

Anyhow for the past few days I've had a nasty toothache. As horribly incovenient (not to mention painful) as it is it's forced me to do two very important things.

1. Become more aware of my body. Because I don't want to cause myself more pain then I absolutely have to I started planning my meals ahead of time so I have something soft and "mushy" to eat. I normally have a general "plan" but more often then not I end up changing it and resorting to my old "favorites" because it's convenient. I've started writing down what I eat and how I feel after eating it according to a general hunger scale. Because of this not only am I learning to pay more attention to what my body needs, but I learned something very interesting things about my diet such as that I eat oats EVER SINGLE DAY for breakfast. While this isn't wrong and oatmeal is healthy (not to mention yummy :P) it's become a food rut for me. Which brings me to my next point.

2. I'm breaking out of food ruts. I can't eat anything slightly crunchy and so I'm having to become creative with my mushes. And although most of my food hasn't been so tasty recently I am learning more about what I do and don't like and am trying new things. Tomorrow for instance, I am NOT having oats (gasp) and am in fact going to be eating..... rice cereal with apple. Don't know if I'll like it, but I'll never know till I try.

I realized how I feel like I need a physical excuse such as pain to allow myself to treat my body with respect. Otherwise I feel like I'm just being whimpy or lazy. But there's nothing wrong with listening to your body. What is wrong is treating yourself like crap and pushing yourself to the limits until you simply can't go on anymore. It's a habit I've developed over time that I'm sure is very detrimental to my health and happiness. I DESERVE respect. Anything (my ED) or anyone that has told or tells me otherwise is wrong, no matter how convincing they sound. It's ok to have boundaries. It's ok to be human. It's ok to need rest, food and relaxation from time to time. I pride myself on my work ethic but work isn't everything. Life is meant to be enjoyed and I'm going to enjoy it to the full by learning to respect myself and my body. It's about time.

I am allowed to enjoy life!

My new revelation for the day: I am allowed to eat whatever I want.

So basic, so simple - yet today was the first time I put it into practice.

Here's the story : I was wondering what I wanted to eat for dinner. I opened the fridge and saw some yellow cheese. "MMMM, that would taste lovely over toast, wouldn't it?" I started imagining it, the way the cheese would melt in my mouth, the lovely contrast it would have with the tomato sauce and basil. And then it hit me, why don't I just eat it. Yes it's a "fear food". And... So that's what I did, I made myself a lovely little cheese toast. And I truly enjoyed every bite. I'm not a fan of the stuff when it's not toasted, because it seems rather bland on its own. But in this toast it was AMAZING. Since it was so yummy, I had another toast. And then it hit me. Who told me I wasn't allowed to eat cheese before? What was it that stopped me at simply wishing I could eat it and not eat it. My own stupid routine and rules. Well it's time to break those rules and learn to eat the things I like in moderation. Broken down that means eating a piece of chocolate as opposed to the whole bar. It means a scoop of ice-cream instead of the tub. It means a toast with cheese instead of five. Eating what you like is HEALTHY and NORMAL. I feel like slapping myself for not letting this concept sink in sooner.

Food is good, it is meant to be enjoyed.For so long I looked at enjoying food as a weakness. That's messed up, I know, but it's the truth. The fact that I wouldn't let myself enjoy food made me somehow "higher" then all these other people. In my mind I was better then all these simple people that would freak out and get all exited over ice-cream. But guess what - life is about enjoying simple joys. It's about smiling when the sun warms your face. It's about singing out loud when you feel like it. It's about dancing on the spot when you have music blaring on your headphones. It's about laughing with your three year old siblings. It's about curling up in bed with a good book and letting yourself relax. It's about having deep philosophical conversations with friends over a glass of port. It's those little moments that make life worth living.

Back to the beginning.

I know I haven't blogged in a while. No real reason for it, just felt like taking a break. But now I feel like writing about an experience that's been taking place over the past week.
I had the opportunity to go back to the place where my ED started and developed. To clarify, at the beginning of my recovery I moved to another country. As much as I hated the thought initially and still struggle with it from time to time I now know it was the best thing that could have possibly happened to me. Living in a place where my ED and I have so much “history” together makes everything all that much harder. But I really wanted to go back – to see my old friends and just get away from the routine a bit. I was worried though how I would react to being in a place where all I have are ED memories of restricting, starving and purging. Every room has a memory, every place has a behavior. Scary as it was during this trip I learned several important things.
Let's start with the good – I faced some HUGE challenges while I was there and did rather well I think :P. I ate at a party – without binging or seriously restricting. That was freaky. Last time I was at a party I had starved myself all day so I ended up binging, purging and spending the rest of the evening crying over what I had done. I was soooo scared history would repeat itself. But I looked at the plates of snacks, had a few that looked appetizing, ate dinner and that's all there was to it. No binging, no need to hide in my room so my impulses wouldn't take over and make me devour everything in sight. No guilt attached either. It was great.

Second challenge – Chinese fast food. God, I hate that stuff. I went out with a friend and she was dying to have some. I ordered a small soup, but she then insisted on ordering a whole plate of greasy fried noodles. Was I pissed? You bet! I didn't want to eat there and I certainly didn't want to eat that. But guess what? I did it. I sat there and talked to her and ate some of the food. Didn't eat it all – I wasn't hungry enough and I also didn't like the food (very very bland). Her sweet and sour chicken was a million times better. I felt guilty afterwards but I refused to restrict and ate later on in the day. It was a good reminder to me that fears are just that -fears- and I can overcome them.

I had some major triggers while I was there too. I felt the urge to restrict from the second I walked into those surroundings. Most of the time I didn't give in, but I sure as hell was tempted. My hunger disappeared almost instantly and I felt drawn. Drawn to that scale in the bathroom, drawn to eat just a fruit instead of a meal, drawn to cope with my emotions and stress by depriving myself. I did not weigh while I was there, I did not exercise. I had only one small slip up. But it was hard, so hard.
I saw some friends from IP there. Though I was happy to see them, it didn't make things any easier. One of them only left the hospital 2 months ago and she's already lost 10 kg. I saw her and the first thing that went to my head was “Oh my God!” She was pale, skin tightly drawn over her cheekbones, layers of makeup trying to cover the utter lack of color in her skin. Through her clothes I saw every bone and I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because she is happy in what she does. I want to cry because I know she won't stop. I want to cry because she studies 10 hours a day and works another 6. I want to cry because I know she is unhappy, but she doesn't know it yet. She was telling me about how cold and tired she was, how she has a potential relationship in sight but can't stand the thought of getting intimate because she knows the guy will tell her to gain weight and she doesn't want to. Most of all I wanted to cry because I saw in her an image of myself. I saw who I used to be, and still am in some ways. And it scared me. What if I don't beat this thing? Will I go back to my illusion of security while my whole life slips away? Will I truly believe that that is the only way I can live and be happy?

The other friend was better. She's also binging and purging, but she seems not to be falling as fast. I know she longs for a way out. She wants to believe it is possible, but she's lost hope. I want to be an example to her. I want to show her “Look, I did it. You can to. ” She realizes that she is numb, her life means nothing to her. And though it hurt me to hear her say it at least I know she wants help. And that means there is still hope. If I can only find a way to reach her, to empower her with the same motivation that I have, maybe she'll find the light in her life again. All I can do for now is hope and pray that she will not give in, that she will find the strength within herself to fight and that she will find people along the way to help her.

But what I learned most of all through this past week is that I am not as strong as I thought I am. I still have such a long ways to go. Those thoughts, although quieted, are still there. They wait for a moment of weakness, a moment of struggle, a moment where I lose focus. And they call me, they draw me. I am not invincible and I mustn't underestimate what lies in front of me. I need to keep fighting, I need to keep moving forward. If I don't I will slip back. And that is the most terrifying thing for me.

Do any of you have a triggering place where you ED thoughts become especially strong?