It’s 3:00am and I lay here trying to get the words out as best I can. Its been an awful night. I lay here in the bottom of the bath tub as the hot water from the shower beats down on my cold, agonizing body. It’s been a night of up and down, suffering and tears. My stomach has hurt most of the night waking me almost hourly in agonizing pain and nausea. Into the bathroom to sit on the floor hovering the toilet, praying I don’t vomit but wishing I did. I know my body can’t afford to vomit but it takes so much to hold it in. I have to keep breathing in and out, deep breaths, and keep telling myself don’t throw up. Throwing up takes my body 10 steps back with dehydration, fatigue and basically knocks me down for at least a day. I know I must be strong and not vomit, think of something to distract, something to keep my mind occupied. Writing this post that will keep me busy. I’m so tired, I yawn over and over, then close my eyes still letting the water run over me. The water is soothing, it gives relief. I lay in the tub until the hot water turns cold and then I pull the towel down and cover myself, closing my eyes and for a few minutes fall asleep with my head resting against the cold, hard bathtub wall. I wake to the cold bath tub below me, overtaken by nausea again and fighting back the yawns. It’s been a hell of a night. I want to sleep, I want to feel better. My body hurts, my stomach hurts, I’m so cold, I’m so weak. I think of what’s to come for the day and it’s overwhelming, I just want to lay in my bed under the blankets and sleep all of this away. I finally get up enough strength to pull myself out of the tube and flop down on the bathroom floor. I think to myself I need help, I need Aaron to help me get dressed. But, it’s 3am he’s sound asleep and needs his rest. It’s not uncommon for me to text him or call him and he immediately wakes and hurry’s to help. I don’t know what I’d do without him to be honest. Thinking about this makes me sad, I’m laying here on the bathroom floor, it’s hard as a freaking rock, cold and I’m in pain. My poor husband laying in our bed asleep not knowing what’s going on. Why he puts up with this bullshit is beyond me. I wish things were different, I wish I were different. Waves of nausea keep flooding me. I finally get dressed and just lay on the floor until I can find enough energy to get up and make my way out of the bathroom, down the hall and into our bedroom. (I have labeled one of our guest bathrooms as “my” bathroom. I haven’t used our master bath in probably 3 years. It overwhelms me and me going in and out all night would surely wake Aaron and Gordy so it’s best I use a separate bath. Just because I’m up doesn’t mean everyone else needs to be up.) I can’t stop yawning but the pain is so intense and the nausea is sometimes overbearing. I just keep deep breathing and praying I don’t vomit. I lay in bed for a bit with my head against Aaron’s chest. Skin to skin contact tends to sooth me and helps my body calm. I fall asleep for awhile and awaken to the clock saying 4:00am, another hour has passed. Another hour closer to daylight, closer to feeling better I pray. I know it’s not over…..
The face of what used to be, looking through photos from just 3 years ago. I once was so beautiful….it hurts my heart to see such a transformation in a negative way. Anorexia has taken so much from me. I used to have a purpose, a will to live and thrive. I used to feel happy and meaningful. I look into the eyes of the woman in the bottom picture and all I see and feel is sadness, loneliness and depression. It breaks my heart. Where did I go, why did I go and will I ever return….
Have you ever had someone tell you you look… (insert word of choice: good, beautiful, healthy etc) to the “average” person it would be considered a compliment to receive such a comment. To me it’s shear terror, the thoughts that accompany those sort of “compliments” are devastating. To me when I hear “you look good” my mind instantly goes to oh my god I’m huge, I’m fat, I’m disgusting. Throughout my battle with Anorexia I have been at significantly low weights, in the 70’s, 80’s. Most recently my weight before I went to treatment was in the 80’s. But in my mind I always want to get lower, it’s never low enough and I’m always too fat. Since being home I have heard comments that I look healthy, I look good, I must be doing great solely based on my appearance. Why is it that if I’m 100 pounds I must be doing well but if I’m 80 I’m doing bad. Why is it people think they can tell how I’m doing by my appearance. I was in the hospital for a month and 1/2 with a continuous 24/7 feeding tube plus boost/ensure plus 3 meals a day and two snacks. So with that being said…. obviously I have gained weight, that was the treatment goals of the Dr’s to make me gain weight, get my electrolytes back to normal, get my heart pumping regular again and get my cognitive thinking back. So yes, I have gained weight and yes, I look different and yes, I look healthier than before but none of those things mean I’m doing well. Actually since being home I have lost 15 pounds, am lucky to eat 1 meal a day and keep it down, my Dr won’t let me go back to work and I spend my days being supervised by my family to make sure I’m not doing anything “bad” or detrimental to myself . I hate myself most days, my thoughts are filled with negativity and my body fills with anxiety and depression daily. My nights are spent up in bed crying with stomach pain, vomiting and sleeping on the bathroom floor. How fun is it to pick out a bathroom floor rug based on how soft it is because you know it’s where you sleep at night instead of in a comfortable bed with my husband and dog. I’m so sick and tired of everything and everyone being stereotyped, categorized or judged. Why can’t we just love one another based on personality and character why does everything have to be about appearance, body shape, weight, clothing brand, hair cut. This world is such a bitch and so hurtful. No one is perfect, everyone is fighting some sort of demon some just hide it better than others. For so long I tried to hide my demons and it got me nowhere. For so long I tried to be someone I wasn’t. Now I’m just being me, living each day as best I can and trying to enjoy every minute I have because in all honesty with the way I’m going it’s only a matter of time before I’m gone and in the end it’s between God and I. I struggled through relationships, college, work and now my health. There comes a point when you can’t struggle anymore and your tired, that’s where I’m at. I’m tired mentally and physically but no one would know because there too busy judging what they see not what the know. Im tired of the comments, I’m tired of my thoughts and I’m tired of this illness. No one knows how a simple comment can effect a person so here’s a thought, don’t say anything, mind your own business. It may be a simple comment to you but to the person on the receiving end it could be the thing that ruins there entire day. Moral of my rant is that just because something or someone appears a certain way on the outside the inside may be 100% different. Ask before you judge, think before you speak, love because you care.
End rant….. thank you for reading.
Have you ever woken up and thought, ” this is going to be a good day” the sun is shining, birds are chirping and your mood is especially chipper. Well, I had one of those moments this morning, it’s rare for me to wake up feeling refreshed AND happy. My emotions are typically numb/non existent or sad and lonely. Anyway, I woke up with these positive feelings and thought I’d go out on a limb and do my hair (for the first time in probably 4 months) and wear actual jeans instead of leggings. Well in a blink of an eye my hopes and dreams to live out this achievement were crushed. I gave myself a glance in the mirror and negative thoughts rushed in.
Wow look how fat I look
Look at that fat, disgusting face
Nasty bloated, fat cheeks
Fat flabby arms
Look at those disgusting legs, wow your a fat cow.
How can you stand yourself your so ugly and gross.
So instead of doing my hair I tie it back with little black hair ties and think what’s the use.
I go to put my jeans on, being very mindful to pick the smallest size 00 pair that are my “skinny jeans”. I slide the right leg on then left and cringe as I slide them over my hips, zip the zipper and close the button. I stand looking in the mirror completely disgusted. They fit but that’s the problem…. they fit, they should be big, they shouldn’t be touching me. Again the negative, hurtful thoughts rush in and again I’m down. I quickly pull the jeans down not even unbuttoning them and throw them across the room with hatred, disgrace and anger.
I surrender and put the same black, same old, same dull leggings on. I return to standing in front of the mirror, now plagued with sadness, hopelessness and anxiety. I’m fat, I’m a disgrace, I must work out more and eat even less. These flabby legs have to go away, these arms are so disgusting I can’t stand to even look at myself. I grab a sweater off the hanger and pull it on covering the disgrace I see in the mirror. I leave my closet filled with negative, bitter thoughts. I leave feeling defeated, shameful and sad. Those feelings I woke with have disintegrated, those wonderful, beautiful feelings. I close the door, walk downstairs and sit on the couch wondering why, wondering if I can ever get those good thoughts back and if so at what cost.
What is a vegetable, by definition a vegetable is a plant or part of a plant used as food, typically as accompaniment to meat or fish, such as a cabbage, potato, carrot, or bean.
What is food, any nourishing substance that is eaten,drunk, or otherwise taken into the body to sustain life, providing energy, promotegrowth, etc.
So in these definitions neither of them label either a vegetable or food as being bad, harmful, guilt ridden, sad, angry etc. So a question I have is why in my mind do I label something so insignificant, so forgetful, so good for our bodies and health as negative, hurtful, harmful, angry, sad etc. it’s a little red bell pepper, that’s it, a stupid pepper. Why am I letting a bell pepper ruin my day, bring negative thoughts charging and bombarding into my head.
After restricting all morning I finally allowed myself to eat a few slices of a red bell pepper and celery dipped in vinegar and salt. After agonizing over the pepper, overthinking, googling the calories in a red bell pepper over and over just to make sure all the calculations were similar, after cutting up my pepper into thin strips than cutting those into tiny squares, I allowed myself to take a bite, feel the texture of the smooth skin and the crunch of each bite. After hours and hours of feeling pain in my stomach and body and feeling lethargic and weak I took a bite and swallowed. I allowed myself to eat, swallow and taste bite after bite. In the moment I felt numb and careless, but after the guilt filled my body, filled my head and brought anger and sadness. How could I have done this, why did I do this, why did I cave and eat this, now my stomach hurts even more, now I’m nauseated, maybe I should go purge it up and get rid of it. It’s going to make me gain weight, I’m already so fat why did I do this, why. All these thoughts come racing into my body and mind. I feel like a failure, I feel huge, I feel my stomach bloating, I hate this, I hate the feeling of full. I hate food I truly do. When will this nightmare end, maybe I’ll wake up and it will all be just a terrible nightmare. Maybe I’ll wake up and I’ll be normal. But what is normal, the world is a crazy, unsteady, ever changing roller coaster with no rhyme or reason. As I sit here writing this I feel sad and lonely. My head keeps shouting to take laxatives because I ate without purging and I need to compensate but my body is already tired and so nauseated I know in my wise mind that laxatives will make this worse. I just want all of this to stop I want this to end, this terrible nightmare that I have to live in each day. It’s tiring and hurtful, I long to be at peace, to eat cheesecake and not feel guilty. Heck to eat a damn vegetable and not feel guilty. I long to just feel something other than sadness and hopelessness.
Yesterday was probably the best day I have had in two years. I forgot how much I love being in my yard, mowing, cleaning, weeding, decorating. I haven’t had the energy or motivation to do yard work in a few years so with my burst of sudden inspiration and desire, I got up and had a wonderful day. So many things my ED has taken from me that most people don’t think twice about. Some days I can barely get out of bed to walk down the stairs into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, let alone mow an entire yard. Yesterday was so exhilarating, I planted flowers, hung baskets, mowed and weeded the yard. Little accomplishments like these bring such joy to my heart because they are things I have lost for so long. The feeling of accomplishment and pride just over took me yesterday and brought back memories I have long since forgotten. Some days my head is filled with such negativity, resent and sadness that in days like yesterday it brings mixed emotions of sadness and joy. Oh how I wish everyday could be so wonderful and filled with positive insight and accomplishment, I long for those days, I pray for those days even minutes to take grasp of and hold in my heart and mind. I long for the good days to linger and last forever. My ED has taken so much from me that it’s hard to see past the negative most days, it’s hard to see the light or a positive ending. My thoughts continually spiral into sadness and bitterness entrenched with negativity and hopelessness. Tedious everyday tasks turn into day long projects accompanied by weakness, brain fog, excessive thoughts and hatred towards myself for not being “strong” enough. I often push myself so far that my body aches and I stay up all night in pain from exhaustion and body pain. My muscles cry out from being pushed to the limit, my feet hurt, my hands hurt and mostly my heart hurts because with just a blink of an eye my ED takes over and my good day can turn bad with a just a simple glimpse in the mirror or brush of my clothes against my skin. All the good that I felt leaves me scared, lonely, and hating myself once more. I dive back into my depressed anxiety ridden self just longing for freedom to live in the days like I had yesterday.
Live everyday like it’s the best day because for some it truly is.
Today has been a pretty “normal-ish” day. It’s Sunday and in my brain Sunday is the start of a new week, new beginning and opportunity to start fresh. With that being said my start fresh mindset turns to no eating; how much can I restrict and let’s see how much movement I can do before I sit down to take a break….. it’s 7:30pm and I’m finally sitting. Tomorrow I have my first Dr apt since being discharged from treatment and my mind has been racing trying to process this for the past three days. I have wanted and tried to cancel more times than I can count. I have run through a list of excuses as to why I don’t need to go, want to go or should go. All I can focus on is that the last time I went to his office I stepped on the scale and saw a number much less than I am currently. I want that number back I hate myself for being so weak and caving and going to the hospital and treatment the past two months. If I would have been strong I would not be so fat, but no I caved I gave in and let them put a feeding tube in me and now I have to face the consequences of weight gain. I hate myself, I hate my current weight, I hate my lack of self control. My head just goes crazy all day thinking about a million different things, stop racing stop thinking stop, stop, stop. All I can think about is the scale and that damn number, why is that number so important why do I let it run my life. Who really cares about the number, what does it actually mean, stand for, represent? Answer… not a damn thing. It’s simply that, a number.
If only I could believe that its just a number and not a measure of my self worth, if only I could stop obsessing, if only my mind would stop racing, stop thinking. I just want to breath and be at peace.