So we survived this weekend - I really doubted that I would make it! We've been crazy busy with the rugby world cup - luckily my country won!!! And the business I work for did so well. So it's all been worth it in the end. I worked straight through 2 nights and 3 days without any sleep! (or bingeing!!!! That's really something. Usually when my life gets that hectic, I binge just to get through the day and to cope with the stress of having 100000 things to do at once, but now I actually survived without it!!! The pride I'm feeling is immense. Pride and gratuity. )
Anyway, I've never been this tired in my life. My legs feel like they have gelatine inside of them instead of muscles, and my head is swimming. But this weekend has been amazing. I have to admit (although I would NEVER say it out loud!) that I've never been much of a rugby fan - in fact, I think it's a stupid culture that just allows people to be butch and rude and chauvinistic and to abuse alcohol. This weekend, though, for the first time I saw that there's another side to the whole rugby-fan-club - it unites people of ALL racial groups, and THAT's what has been fantastic.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Just you wait and see...I'm not dead yet!!!
"Hope is the thing without feathers
that perches in the soul;
it sings and leaps right through the rain;
it never stops at all"
I'm feeling better today - yes, I've got hope in my heart! I WILL conquer the monster called bulimia; I will slay him, oh yes, I'll kill him and burn him and then...then I'll feed the remnants to those who's doubting my resilience!
Ha!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Directly after my psychiatrist-appointment :(((((
I'm feeling so so despondent right now. Just came back from my visit to the psychiatrist. And I'm feeling like a major failure in every single aspect of my life. I'm not going to type "she made me feel like a failure" because technically nobody can make anyone feel anything without their allowing it. I'm feeling this way, because Dr Zen managed to scratch my (very thin) layer of pretense and laid bare the truly empty, self-destructive nature of my life. At one point she asked me if I'm feeling suicidal, and I honestly answered, No.
NOW it's a different matter altogether. Especially after my mom gave me an ultimatum ("stop your binging and purging by December, or you're out in the cold. On your own. Maybe then you'll be forced to start taking responsibility for your illness.")
I hate ranting about this because I know it's the truth, and that I really need to start acting like the grown-up I am...but it's so daunting to think of changing. I cannot imagine a life without binging and purging to relieve stress. I cannot face it. But I'll have to. Shit shit shit I hate swearing like this, but it's all I can do to keep myself from crying. Dr Zen was so hard on me. I don't want to paint the picture that she victimized me, (or that I wanted her to coddle me) but at the end she regarded me with utter disgust in her eyes, and declared, "the only one able of changing your circumstances, is YOU, but I doubt that you'll be able to do that. You are simply too skilled at being self-destructive."
Although it's true, it still hurt.
I just hung my head, and nodded, before I slumped out of her office in a daze, clutching my prescription for my SSRI's.
God knows what she would have said if she'd known I'm not taking them like I'm supposed to! She probable would have chased me out of her office right then for being an imperfect patient.
Hmmm...this has caused me to think: am I really that desperate for approval and validation that I would even LIE to the persons supposed to HELP me just so that I can fit in a box? (that is, fit with MY idea of "the perfect patient" - someone who is, initially in a hole, then, with the help of professionals and medication, climbs out of the hole, and only gets better with each day? And soon lives a fulfilling life, totally self-reliant and a productive and contributing member of society?)
But that is exactly what I am doing. Pretending pretending...and the moment someone (Dr. Zen for today) manage to penetrate (somewhat) through that pretense, I'm bowled out.(over???)
NOW it's a different matter altogether. Especially after my mom gave me an ultimatum ("stop your binging and purging by December, or you're out in the cold. On your own. Maybe then you'll be forced to start taking responsibility for your illness.")
I hate ranting about this because I know it's the truth, and that I really need to start acting like the grown-up I am...but it's so daunting to think of changing. I cannot imagine a life without binging and purging to relieve stress. I cannot face it. But I'll have to. Shit shit shit I hate swearing like this, but it's all I can do to keep myself from crying. Dr Zen was so hard on me. I don't want to paint the picture that she victimized me, (or that I wanted her to coddle me) but at the end she regarded me with utter disgust in her eyes, and declared, "the only one able of changing your circumstances, is YOU, but I doubt that you'll be able to do that. You are simply too skilled at being self-destructive."
Although it's true, it still hurt.
I just hung my head, and nodded, before I slumped out of her office in a daze, clutching my prescription for my SSRI's.
God knows what she would have said if she'd known I'm not taking them like I'm supposed to! She probable would have chased me out of her office right then for being an imperfect patient.
Hmmm...this has caused me to think: am I really that desperate for approval and validation that I would even LIE to the persons supposed to HELP me just so that I can fit in a box? (that is, fit with MY idea of "the perfect patient" - someone who is, initially in a hole, then, with the help of professionals and medication, climbs out of the hole, and only gets better with each day? And soon lives a fulfilling life, totally self-reliant and a productive and contributing member of society?)
But that is exactly what I am doing. Pretending pretending...and the moment someone (Dr. Zen for today) manage to penetrate (somewhat) through that pretense, I'm bowled out.(over???)
First entry; really nervous
Right...this morning I've decided I'm going to post the first entry into my blog. This is supposed to be, first and foremost, a SAFE place for me to journal (replacing the one I keep underneath my mattress which has become a public declaration of my well-being in the past :-(), to rant, vent, let off steam...etc...you get the picture. (I adore my parentheses (especially on the double!)) I'm sort-of in recovery from an ed, one foot in the door so to say (more often than not only one of my toes are keeping that door open - but at least it IS open!)
So it might be extremely boring, triggering, dull,confusing,upsetting for some readers. I tend to get very graphic in my descriptions of stuff.
That was my version of a disclaimer.
That said: I've thrown above-mentioned journal out with last week's trash. My mom was making comments about my ed and the fact that I refuse to take Lithium for my violent and drastic mood swings b/c of the possible (probable) weight gain. Completely out of the blue, she said, 'you know, Fi, that you're going to gain weight in any case with your ed. So don't you reckon it would make more sense to just take the Li-tablets and gain weight safely? AND feel better while doing it?'
OK...I was too shocked for words.
Firstly, because I've only ever written about my fear of gaining weight on Lithium in said ex-journal. (conclusion: my space has been invaded; privacy (i regard my journal as the ultimate token of privacy) has been violated.
Secondly: who the hell does she think she IS to suggest that I would feel better taking Li., even if I gain weight? If she REALLY read my journal, then she would have KNOWN how absolutely, shaky-kneed TERRIFIED I am at the thought of getting fat.
Thirdly: It is NOT necessarily true that I am going to gain weight with my ed. True, sometimes I binge/purge uncontrollably, mostly because of emotional reasons, but more recently also because of biological reasons. (restricting all day while I'm at work, over-exercising etc) But the binges are getting less frequent (although more severe in intensity).
Oh well...so that's the long of why I've started this blog.
I am really looking into my options as to therapists. I feel I need that to boost my recovery process. (I've not been to one in a year)
Previously, I have mainly been going to this one guy, Dr Obsessive (super-neat is a euphemism for this guy, he's highly qualified, though not in ed's, and compulsively combs the hairs of the rug in his office.) I've seen him since I've been 16. But he's also very pricey. (I don't have medical insurance anymore) And busy. So even if I somehow managed to save enough to see him, it could not be a regular thing, probably only once every 6 weeks, and that is too sparse for me. Yes, I know it's better than not seeing anyone at ALL...but once I decide that I'm going to go into therapy, I want to do it properly. Not be hindered by all the other needy people (with more money than i have) standing in my way, clogging the good Dr's office.
Ugh. This sounded like a whine about poor me, the victim of her circumstances...it wasn't meant like that at all. I merely wanted to state the facts.
Anyway, I think I should go to someone else, for other than the obvious financial and logistical reasons. I would feel more comfortable with a therapist who doesn't feel the urge to go down on his/her knees to straighten the rug's hair/tussles ....(or at least, does not respond to that urge while we're busy with a session! Once I walk out of your door, feel free to comb your rug. Hell, feel free to TALK to your rug if you want to! It is your rug, after all. I just DON'T want to know about it!)
I would also prefer a female therapist, I think...
I am seeing my psychiatrist again this afternoon, (Dr. Zen) and I'm really really really nervous. I have been to see her for the first time about 3 months ago, in the midst of winter, not that that has anything to do with anything really, except that I'm always more depressed and despondent and bingey in winter. She prescribed SSRI's (which I'm only taking on days when I feel like it, which is not the correct way to take them, I know! but I've got something against the whole concept of chemically induced happiness, like you're taking drugs that alter your brain chemistry, so you're happy and smiling and laughing but your life still sucks. Nothing wrong with that in itself, other people would call it 'optimism', I guess it is, only it feels false to me.)
In any case, my appointment is in 4 hours' time, and I'm so worried that she will notice I've gained weight - 5 pounds - since I last saw her. (Ok...so why do I feel that way??? It's not as if it makes me less worthy of treatment than when I was underweight. I know that. SHE knows that (or SHOULD!!??) but still....as soon as my BMI crosses the boundary into the so-called 'normal' range, I feel like I ought to 'be' normal as well...that I've got no right to seek treatment. Oh (enter expletive here) I KNOW that's warped!!! But I cannot shake that nervous feeling.
That's enough for now. My mind is going around in circles. Not going to get anywhere for now. Might just as well focus on my work.
So it might be extremely boring, triggering, dull,confusing,upsetting for some readers. I tend to get very graphic in my descriptions of stuff.
That was my version of a disclaimer.
That said: I've thrown above-mentioned journal out with last week's trash. My mom was making comments about my ed and the fact that I refuse to take Lithium for my violent and drastic mood swings b/c of the possible (probable) weight gain. Completely out of the blue, she said, 'you know, Fi, that you're going to gain weight in any case with your ed. So don't you reckon it would make more sense to just take the Li-tablets and gain weight safely? AND feel better while doing it?'
OK...I was too shocked for words.
Firstly, because I've only ever written about my fear of gaining weight on Lithium in said ex-journal. (conclusion: my space has been invaded; privacy (i regard my journal as the ultimate token of privacy) has been violated.
Secondly: who the hell does she think she IS to suggest that I would feel better taking Li., even if I gain weight? If she REALLY read my journal, then she would have KNOWN how absolutely, shaky-kneed TERRIFIED I am at the thought of getting fat.
Thirdly: It is NOT necessarily true that I am going to gain weight with my ed. True, sometimes I binge/purge uncontrollably, mostly because of emotional reasons, but more recently also because of biological reasons. (restricting all day while I'm at work, over-exercising etc) But the binges are getting less frequent (although more severe in intensity).
Oh well...so that's the long of why I've started this blog.
I am really looking into my options as to therapists. I feel I need that to boost my recovery process. (I've not been to one in a year)
Previously, I have mainly been going to this one guy, Dr Obsessive (super-neat is a euphemism for this guy, he's highly qualified, though not in ed's, and compulsively combs the hairs of the rug in his office.) I've seen him since I've been 16. But he's also very pricey. (I don't have medical insurance anymore) And busy. So even if I somehow managed to save enough to see him, it could not be a regular thing, probably only once every 6 weeks, and that is too sparse for me. Yes, I know it's better than not seeing anyone at ALL...but once I decide that I'm going to go into therapy, I want to do it properly. Not be hindered by all the other needy people (with more money than i have) standing in my way, clogging the good Dr's office.
Ugh. This sounded like a whine about poor me, the victim of her circumstances...it wasn't meant like that at all. I merely wanted to state the facts.
Anyway, I think I should go to someone else, for other than the obvious financial and logistical reasons. I would feel more comfortable with a therapist who doesn't feel the urge to go down on his/her knees to straighten the rug's hair/tussles ....(or at least, does not respond to that urge while we're busy with a session! Once I walk out of your door, feel free to comb your rug. Hell, feel free to TALK to your rug if you want to! It is your rug, after all. I just DON'T want to know about it!)
I would also prefer a female therapist, I think...
I am seeing my psychiatrist again this afternoon, (Dr. Zen) and I'm really really really nervous. I have been to see her for the first time about 3 months ago, in the midst of winter, not that that has anything to do with anything really, except that I'm always more depressed and despondent and bingey in winter. She prescribed SSRI's (which I'm only taking on days when I feel like it, which is not the correct way to take them, I know! but I've got something against the whole concept of chemically induced happiness, like you're taking drugs that alter your brain chemistry, so you're happy and smiling and laughing but your life still sucks. Nothing wrong with that in itself, other people would call it 'optimism', I guess it is, only it feels false to me.)
In any case, my appointment is in 4 hours' time, and I'm so worried that she will notice I've gained weight - 5 pounds - since I last saw her. (Ok...so why do I feel that way??? It's not as if it makes me less worthy of treatment than when I was underweight. I know that. SHE knows that (or SHOULD!!??) but still....as soon as my BMI crosses the boundary into the so-called 'normal' range, I feel like I ought to 'be' normal as well...that I've got no right to seek treatment. Oh (enter expletive here) I KNOW that's warped!!! But I cannot shake that nervous feeling.
That's enough for now. My mind is going around in circles. Not going to get anywhere for now. Might just as well focus on my work.
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