Facebook is filled with links to articles that talk about love and relationships. Oftentimes, these articles are in the form of checklists. “If it’s real love then your relationship has these 10 things”. “If he really loves you then he will do these 15 things”. “Your relationship will fail if you say these 9 things”. Continue reading “My Message of Love”
I have this really strong urge to go somewhere secluded. In the mountains, maybe. Where the tree canopies and the sunsets make my shallow, habitual need for constant entertainment obsolete. I would live in a shack where the natural cross breeze would act as my air conditioning and the rays of the sun would act as my heat. If I was bored I would visit my bookshelf, full of american classics and poetry, and choose something to read for the day. Or, I would grab my camera and go for a hike. I want to be able to put my phone down and listen to whatever thoughts I’m trying to ignore every time I scroll through a news feed, or hit the play button on Netflix.
There are plenty of people who don’t quite understand this, or they see me as depressed.”Make sure you’re not isolating.” they say. “What are you trying to run away from?” they ask. Each answer is simple. Realizing that this is something that I desire is invigorating and broadens the gap between me and any depression. I am not trying to hide. I am not moving geographically in the hopes that I will be able to escape my problems. For in the silence I wish to surround myself with, I welcome all of my thoughts and worries. I’ll even save them a seat in the car or the bus that I ride in, buckle them in, make sure they’re comfortable. I might even let them choose a song or two on the radio. In the mountains I would have room for all I’m supposed to be, including any and all baggage that I carry.
I wish to go somewhere remote because, sometimes, in this world, I feel as though I am being screamed at. I am constantly trying to listen to others, trying not to offend others, and caring way to much about what others think. It seems as though I am ignoring myself. Everything is just to loud sometimes.
So maybe I am trying to run away, but it is from the things not allowing me to listen. Listen. Listening, understanding,comprehending and honoring…Honoring. But, finally, of the self and not of others. In the company of the trees and the magic dust from the moon that fills the air every night. In the company of the natural rhythm of the seasons. High on a mountain closer to heaven, the sky and of all its energy. There I wish to listen. There I wish to confront what I, and most of us, hide from on a daily basis.
One day, I promise, I will do this. And imagine the amazing blog posts that will come of it!
I have not written in a long time, almost three weeks. There was a reason for that too… I really did not want too. I wanted to be in my own little eating disorder bubble during the past few weeks because of the stressful things that were happening. I finished out my senior year of high school and actually graduated with a decent grade point average, especially considering the year that I have had, I walked across the stage and received my diploma, and felt stabs a sadness as I realized I was leaving the first school that I actually loved. I chose a college major, pierced my nose, chopped all of my hair off and am preparing to move out of the house. It seemed like too much for me to handle without my usual coping skill of restricting… so I did.
Here is what my ED made me think would happen: I will just restrict a lot this week so I can get through everything that I need and in the process my stomach will get flatter in preparation for summer. Then after this week, I’ll just stop.
Here is what actually happened: I will start restricting heavily this week to calm my nerves. *7 days later*. Ok, that stressful week is over, I can stop now. But my stomach feels so empty and flat. I’ve missed that feeling…
So that week turned into me loosing complete control of my diet and I ended up with a giant, unrelenting, excruciating, stomach ulcer after 3 weeks of restricting to prove it. So if you think you might want to restrict today, be my guest! Just know that there is an inevitable loss of control coming your way, and that day is going to turn into a month. And you are going to end up with a stomach ulcer that literally keeps you up at night. A stomach ulcer that makes you scream in pain every time your stomach gets too empty, every time you eat a tiny bit too fast, every time you don’t drink enough water, every time you miss your carbohydrate snack every 45 minutes to keep the acid levels down. A stomach ulcer that makes your stomach so distended that your skin starts to hurt from stretching and the only thing that you can wear is over sized sweatpants. And this little fucker lasts 3 months. 😉
I am not telling you this so you feel sorry for me (I’m a bad ass bitch that doesn’t need your pity), I’m telling you this because your eating disorder is a liar. ED is trying to kill you, so please don’t listen to him. And if and when you slip up an listen to him, write about it, paint a picture of it, record a song… anything so that you will remember the pain of the consequence.
BTW- I am over three months free of purging !! (count every victory)
Live long and prosper (and I can only do that if I stay in recovery)
PS: one more post to come tomorrow
When I am anxious, I listen to Jason Mraz and put on lavender lotion. When I am feeling depressed, I open the windows and read some awesome blogs. But when I am numb, there doesn’t seem to be a lot that I can do. And there is something very scary about that. For me, the sensation (or lack there of) of being numb, is the hardest part of recovery.
A defense mechanism that I have is “Checking Out.” I shut off entirely.
“Livy how was your day?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well what did you do today?”
“I don’t remember.”
I am feeling numb today. I have been feeling numb for about 2 weeks now. So today I started asking myself what it is that I am trying to block out. And then I made sure that I am not feeling numb because I am restricting (which can sometimes be a subconscious habit). After a little bit of self reflection I realized two things. 1) I am restricting again and 2) I am checking out of all of the transition in my life. I am graduating high school and moving out in three months. I am leaving the only school that I have ever attended that felt like home to me, and the only school where I was never bullied. I am about to re-enter a world (a real world) full of gossip, judgement and, dare I use the cliche word, cliques.
Will I be able to face each judgement call with civil confidence? or will I be triggered and cope by purging and restricting? Will I stay on track with my treatment, or will I become fueled by the high of hunger and decide to skip my doctors appointments, group meetings and counseling sessions. I am terrified to see what will come…. But wait, that’s good! I am feeling scared right now, and with this fear comes the absence of my numbness. This shakiness that I feel right now as I struggle to hit the right keys as I am typing, this shakiness is a gift. I am afraid for my life because I value it, because I want to keep it.
Will I be able to face each judgement call with civil confidence?
So when I am anxious I listen to Jason Mraz and put on lavender lotion. When I am depressed, I open the windows and look at some amazing blogs. And when I am numb, I will evaluate 1) are you restricting and 2) what are you trying to block out. Then I may blog about it, or journal or write a letter. But let me juts finish by saying… Lord thank you for my shaky hands.
I did have a really bad relapse last February and it was a real turning point for me. Right after it happened I knew that it would be. I told myself “things NEED to change”, and they did… for a little while. I went back to following my meal plan and I was honest with the doctors about what I did. I drank the prescribed amount of GaterAde and I took every single GIGANTIC vitamin that I was supposed to. It seemed as though I was finally getting a handle on things. To some extent, I am actually getting a handle on things and my bad experience was a turning point, but in a way that is much, much less glorified than I expected. My sudden and complete 180 degree turn in behavior was fueled by my “Turning Point High” and it wasn’t going to last forever. Now the real work begins.
To be completely honest with you, at this moment in time, I am a mess. Every emotion and event that I suppressed over the years is deciding to come out and I am left with the OVERWHELMING task of having to deal with 10 years of trauma. I am keeping everyone at arms length, including the people that I am closest with. I do not want to be hugged or touched and I even started parking on the street instead of in my driveway because I feel like my mom’s car would be way too close to mine.
In terms of my eating disorder, I am not taking any diet pills or medicine that makes you purge (that’s progress), but I am restricting pretty excessively. It’s what I have always done and I don’t know what it is like to do anything else. Not restricting is unknown territory, and literally against my brain chemistry.
I am dealing with a lot of different emotions right now, and that is a necessary part of recovery, but I am stunting the progress by restricting. With my knowledge of that must now come the change (easier said than done). My intention for writing this post is to be honest with the people who read my blog, to be held accountable for my recovery, and to share my experience with those who might be feeling the exact same way that I am.
“With my knowledge of that must now come the change.”
Recovery is a freakin’ messy process, and a lot of the time the only thing that is rewarding about it is the proposed light at the end of the tunnel. I remember when I first started getting help for my ED, people said that I needed to trust the process and have faith. I was COMPLETELY numb to those words. But now I see that if I don’t trust the process, then I would not trust that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I would not make it past this point of my recovery. I would go to Walgreens and buy anything and everything that I could to purge away my feelings and I would end up passed out on the bathroom floor again. Then again. Then again.
“Recovery is a freakin’ messy process.”
So at this moment in time, I hate recovery, I am a mess, I want to go to Walgreens, and I am tired beyond belief. I am being honest with myself and with you because I am not a liar and my blog is bull shit free. If I want to be happy and experience the beautiful things that life has for me then I have to let myself be an emotional mess right now, I have to stay far, far away from all pharmacies and I HAVE TO trust in the process and have faith.
Read this great article- About more than food