Weary~

Visited with my lovely friend this morning and saw the concern in her eyes. Felt the tears tingling the back of my own throat. I feel the emptiness. The aching. The intense longing and suffering. I come to realize just how weary and drained I am. This shell that I have become. Only taking. Never giving. This lifeless zombie. Sucking the spirit out of life. Trying desperately to cling to something while falling off this cliff. Not slipping. Flying down it with intense velocity.Screaming. Kicking. Poison. Dripping down my throat, clinging to every fiber of my structure. Tainting everything I touch. In everything I do. Addicted. I want to stop. I really do. I see your face, read your heart. Hear the words. I wish I could do it for you. But alas, I am forever trapped in this vicious self-sabotaging escapade. And I realize just how truly tangled up I am. I hate this body. I hate the monster I see in the mirror. I want to feel anything good. Let the warmth seep into my lifeless, cold veins. Purple. Black and blue. Black. White. Where is the gray? Where is the middle ground between death and life? Recovery? It seems impossible. This feat feels too great to take on. My back is breaking from the weight of it all. The lifeless, weightless burden I carry. This monkey on my back. Strangling me. Gagging me. GET OFF. Get away from me Satan. I want rest. Peace. Quiet. Life. So weary.

New beginnings??? QUESTION MARK

I just got the mail. Inside was a large envelope from Palouse Properties. I just about wet myself.
It brought up such a feeling of dread/anticipation/fear/excitement/I WANT TO THROW UP!!!!!
Inside this seemingly harmless little envelope is the contract for a lease for an apartment in Moscow. Which means me. going back to Moscow. Living on me own. Paying for bills. Paying for food. :/
Most importantly it means me...taking care of myself. DOING this recovery thing. for reals. :/ I'm terrified.
What if I fail? What if I give up and let ED win? Am I strong enough? Am I ready? Will I ever know?
Prayers appreciated. Cause who knew that such a lil' white envelope could scare the pants right off a meh!
:/ I'm going to blow into a small paper bag now...

Fail~

I feel like the failed anorexic. I feel like I will never be able to starve myself the way others do. Torture myself enough. Be small enough. I feel like all the people I met in rehab are going backwards. Losing weight. Going back into treatment. Walking the thin line of death once again. And I'm actually angry and disgusted with myself. And for the fact that I am at home and...well cant. I eat food. I crave things. I indulge. I feel like a glutton. I feel weak. I feel ashamed and guilty for the fact that I'm not running or purging. I feel ED screaming inside me telling me how out of control I am. What a failure I am. Flesh. Skin. This all feels so wrong.

Thanksgiving....

DUN DUN DUN

Thanksgiving~ Turkey Day~ They day the Pilgrims and Indians celebrated for the bounty the Lord had provided for them. The day people eat themselves into a food coma. The day I watch the Macy's day parade and see the Rockefeller Rockets performing and think...if only I looked like that...instead of the giant turkey float....and then hold an intense grudge on them and their mankind. The ONE day that I kinda wish I could erase from the Holiday Hall of Fame. For those of you who knows me, you know why.

Three years ago on Thanksgiving night, my dad had a heart episode that sent him to the ER on Thanksgiving night until 4 am. Then to open heart surgery he went two months later after the holidays. Two years ago, our neighbor had a heart issue that landed him in the ER and us watching their two boys. Last Thanksgiving, I was so deep into my eating disorder it is embarrassing. I came home from school ragged, ran in feet of snow at 6 am despite a dislocated knee injury I had exacerbated since September, pretended all was fine and then on Thanksgiving night got slightly way MORE than tipsy in front of my dad and brothers after our first thanksgiving without my mom there. I spent the night sitting on the coach regretting how sick I felt and barely remember somehow shoveling off our driveway before slipping into bed and sleeping off all the regret. Only to awake in the morning and begin the vicious cycle again. A long string of scarring Thanksgivings are haunting me to say the least. Holidays are hard for me. Not only because now I am dealing with a broken family and all that entails, but my Eating Disorder likes to rear its ugly head in a big and bad way. For many, the holidays are a time to indulge with no real mental capacity going into it. For me, the voices already in my head telling me what a cow I am scream even louder. Plus, the fiasco's and memories that are associated with this holiday and me are not pleasant.

That is why this year I VOW it will be different. After going to treatment not long after the holidays last year, I am so thankful to be here with my family (regardless of how screwed up we are). I am thankful for all the faithful people I have praying for me-family and friends. This year has been challenging to say the least. OK. It has been excruciating. But it is through the hard times that we grow, through the challenges that we realize, well at least I am not where I was last year at this time. Or better yet, dead. I can barely wrap my head around it. I think I am invincible. Nothing could stop me. Or could it? I shutter to think of the possibility that one thing could have ended it all if it had continued- and that was myself. A slow suicide…

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Inside I feel the anxiety and torment spinning. However, I want this year to be different. I am different. I have tools. I have the power. ED does not. My ED voice is still loud. Right now I hear it screaming at how lazy I am, how I SHOULD be running at 6am and blah blah blah. But it takes greater strength to do recovery. I could choose the “easy” out. Or I could choose recovery. Choose to turn my back on those voices and use strength to NOT do what I think I should…which turns out is waaaaay harder for me than just following my addiction. Crap.

I am so thankful for a God who forgives me, though I still have not come to forgive myself. For parents who have stood by me, who have watched me falter, yet have given me the time, space, and capacity to get back up and start over. For friends who are always there despite how closed off I allow myself to be. Tomorrow night I will just be thankful if we make it through in one peace. I will try to take the focus off the food. I will be thankful for life.

WANTED: Guidance~

I don’t even know. My mind is going a million hours a minute- I want to scream and cry like a two year old and beat on something with my fists until I bleed. This would result in me 1. Looking like a two year old 2. Looking insane and 3. Looking like an insane two year old. Yikes.

I just got out with my dietitian. Wonderfulness. NOT. Ugh. Food. Weight. Meal plans. I have a head ache and I’m grouchy. It is THEN that my father decides to open up the doors to the future and discuss my plans for heading back to school…sometime…within the next hundred years.  My heart wants to go and be out on my own, to be FREE. Now, freedom is a funny thing. Because every time I gain it, I seem to sabotage myself and use it to ED’s advantage. Keen. My dad opened up with stating that I ultimately obviously decide when I will go back to school, but he FEELS that I am not ready to head back this spring. That I am still dealing with ED crap HARD and need to really think about if I am ready to go back or not. If I would be using it as an “out” or if I could really keep going on with recovery. And the truth is I DON’T FREAKIN KNOW! I can’t even fathom having to stay at home and live here cleaning my brother’s pee off the toilets and scrubbing dishes at work for another year. The thought makes me want to die. What a sad, sad life poor stupid girl who can’t pull your shiz together. I feel stagnant here. Suffocated. Under a microscope. Lonely. Depressed. The thought of being in a little apartment with my friend is so enticing. Like ooooh we would have so much fun. But it is so scary too. What if I fail AGAIN? What if I am not strong enough yet? I don’t want to land right where I was this time last year. But what if I can succeed? Will I ever know? AHHHH I am so confused. So sad. And probably not making any sense. Basically its 1. Go back to school or 2. Live here at home STILL. Black and white right? So life is grey. I KNOW this to be true. So what is the grey answer? There has to be some compromise somewhere? Something I can do that will help me with recovery AND make me happy and feel like I am moving forward with my life. Ugh. I don’t know what to do. Right now I feel like I am standing outside in the snow…everything is spinning and whirling around me. Its foggy and cold and I JUST WANT TO PUNCH THE SNOW IN ITS FACE. Lol. Ok. Sorry. I need words of wisdom from those who are brave enough to read this. My mind and body are screaming for HELP though Im too weak to say it. So I will whisper it and hope for some burning bush, some small glimmer of hope for my blea future~ help

Garage doors...

I can no longer get into a car without having a mini panic attack. When I look at a garage door, a loud CRUNCH noise flows through my head. The traumatic event of me, backing into our garage door several nights ago keeps flashing through my mind. Yep. I backed our truck into the garage door. And no, it was not pretty. There was a HUGE dent protruding out that was visible for all the world to see. There are no words to describe how awful I felt in that moment. Embarrassed. Ashamed. I believe the words, I'm dead flied through my head as I realized I must now tell my father about the lovely accident I had just caused. Just add it to my tab that is currently due to him :/ After treatment, now this. Superb.
So...time to get real. I have always needed something real, something evident, something tangible to convince me of anything- to prove to me something was real. Moses has a burning bush. I just got a dented garage. Weird comparison, I know. But the bush and the garage are parallel in meaning for me. It was a wake up call. A tangible, visible smack in the face from God. Cause lately, its been ED driving this car. Not me. Winter just kind of took the back seat. And I'm really sick of it. I'm sick of this. Its time to get back in the game. Cause I'm not going to lie, I'm not doing so hot on my own right now. I am not following my meal plan. I'm allowing the stress of life to pile up without dealing with it appropriately. Right now I don't trust myself. I sure as heck don't trust my body. Not at all. So what do I turn to? ED. nice one winter..nice one.
I'm embarrassed. I'm ashamed. I'm guilty. So I turn to ED. Its time to re-evaluate what I'm really doing with this thing called life. With recovery. After being confronted by loved ones the last couple of days, I tend to freak out. ED convinces/suggests to me that I can just NOT follow my meal plan and do what I want. So I don't follow my meal plan and restrict and purge by exercising. I try to compensate, which doesn't work because there is no limit to the compensation. It will go until I kill myself. No amount is good enough for me...or for ED.
Lately, God has been TRYING to send me some signs. To get my attention. Hes saying I need to slooooow down and be more present~ The forgetting to check to see if the garage door was open BEFORE backing up is the perfect example of him sayin....uhhhh buddy...I think you need to slow down and give your brain the nutrition it needs. That way you ah...wont be so stuck on food maybe? Eh? Ya! Cause right now your spending waaaaay too much time thinking about it. And who wants to waste their time with that? Ya... you may be unhappy with yourself. Get over yourself. You, your stressed. Work, school, life. Well, don't you have any faith in me? No matter how much you worry, how hard you fight it, you will not be able to change  a thing. Tomorrow will still come.
Your restricting is making you lose focus. Its making you foggy. Your too stuck in your own head. Too busy skimming, comparing, subtracting, and restricting to be fully present. Your attitude sucks. Your cranky. And tense. Anxious. You resemble a brick wall. Life just keeps hitting you. You feel nothing. You are numb. Life is happening around you and you cant move. Your stuck. Scared. Terrified. And fighting health with everything you have. Tired yet? Its time to stick to the plan. Is that so hard? Cause you could 1. Follow your plan or 2. give in to this jerk ED. That little Mofo needs to beat it. He just wants you miserable. And he is doing pretty good isn't he? So ya done fighting now? Just try it. Try sticking to the plan. For a day. For a week.
Thanks~
GOD

Yep. That's what it takes to get through my thick skull. A dented garage. Good grief.

My many modes...

The last two sessions with my therapist have been really eye opening....
I realized that I operate in modes-these modes all relate to one another and operate on a circular track.
There is the eat mode...and not just eat a little...like eat A LOT...like been restricting and gone too long without food and need something NOW really hungry mode that FREAKS me out MODE.
Red Mode.
Then there is the moderate- maintaining mode where I'm comfortable and following my meal plan for the most part and sufficiently feeding myself. Not too hungry, not too full.
Green  mode~
Then there is my compensation mode in which either I was JUST in the red zone and now must compensate for a previous slip up- in Ed's mind-
Or, I know an event or dinner is coming up and I'm going to probably eat foods I'm not comfortable with OR GASP perhaps have something OFF my meal plan.
Its like a bank in my mind...I have to make sure I have racked up enough points to "earn" the special event food or whatever. I have to have stuck to my rigid rules, starved myself enough before hand, and had enough activity to compensate for whatever I'm about to "indulge" in. The indulging lasts...seconds....before I am already trying to calculate what I have to do to get rid of it. I can't even enjoy it. I must compensate to make up for the calories I just allowed that I feel unsafe with. Skim here, subtract here, add more physical activity there.
Orange mode-
Then there is my restrictive mode, which is pretty similar to my compensation mode. STRICT adherence to my meal plan- LIMITED EVERYTHING- accept for working out of course...that is as much as I can get away with....
yellow mode~
THEN there is the scary alert zone/mode in which people start saying I look sick and start bugging me about being "too thin." Too thin....this is preposterous to me...I want to look at them and shout...CANT YOU SEE ME?? NO! THIN?? ME!!! NOOOOO! I will always be the fat 12 year old girl I remember..the one that haunts me every fucking day of my life. The only thing I see in the mirror EVERY friggin day. The very thing I run from IS ME. Thus, I don't get this concept of too thin when it comes to me.
Black Mode. Death mode.
It is now the season of fall....which means soon it will be winter. Which means soon the skies will open up and a crap ton of snow will fall on the ground, making it quite difficult to take my strolls in which help give me my mental sanity, at best. FOR YEARS I have struggled with winter. I get super depressed and FREAKED out...because I HAVE TO BE ABLE TO COMPENSATE FOR WHATEVER I PUT INTO MY MOUTH!!!! Thus, the fact that it will soon be "the most wonderful time of year" again soon has been heavy on my heart. Like a crap ton of bricks :/
Lastly, my therapist and I established that I really need a new role model. For years and still to this day, as much as I hate to admit, I STILL use my mother as the barometer of food intake. Of "normal" activity. ED still shouts that daughters are SUPPOSED to be smaller than their mothers....and WOW I SUCK because she is TINY. Me, I more resemble a walrus. Blubbery. *shutter*
Whenever I think about perhaps trying some new  food, I think....well....she doesn't eat this. All I grew up knowing was what SHE put in her mouth. I have NOOOOO friggin clue what a normal healthy human woman eats....what is "normal" for a day's worth of food and activity. I just go by what I was shown...ED. Its safe. Its comfortable. Its all I knew. I was taught by the best "Anna" practitioner there was.
CRAP. These three topics, my modes which can be switched at a DROP of a hat...like an on and off light switch, the fact that winter is coming and my one stress release is slipping away like the setting sun, and the fact that I can't eat without seeing my mother's skeletal frame running down the fucking road has all been really affecting me lately. Your prayers would be appreciated. Sigh. I really am messed up....