Still Day 2 (or 1.5, whichever)
I am doing well today!! I ate a full dinner at my parents' house and am dealing with it. I went over with the intention of not eating anything (I'd had about 1100 calories already throughout the day), but my mom plopped a delicious plate in front of me...of course I ate it. It was a "normal" sized plate and I did not eat too much--more than wanted to--but still not too much. It was difficult to just sit around and feel full afterwards, but I did not got nuts in the interim. VICTORY.
After dinner, I had a heart-to-heart with my Dad (my Mom too, but I had already disclosed the extent of my problem with her). This, I have come to realize is the single most important asset anyone struggling through bulimia can have--a solid support system. My Dad, while he may not be able to relate to the pressure I feel to be thin, does understand the stress and suffering I have been through (put myself through). Both my parents have witnessed my ups and downs, and my often inexplicable mood swings. They are always painfully aware something is wrong when I withdraw and refuse answer phone calls for several days. My Dad did tell me that neither he nor my mom had any idea my bulimia was present tense, or this severe. This is not surprising, as bulimia is performed in secret, which leads to a great deal of shame. Seriously, I am a size 4 who cares about staying in shape, how mortifying is it to face the fact I can down 3 super-sized meals and a box of ice cream bars in an hour, and do it over again 2 hours later---and still be a size 4??? Well, its not that simple, but regardless, this a disease that is steeped in loneliness and embarrassment. A completely candid discussion with my father removed a great deal of the stigma I feel towards my addiction. Getting past the disgrace is another step in the healing process. This is humbling, but a huge relief to not feel so isolated anymore. I'm a very lucky gal...
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Still Here
Day 2
I made it. Well, kind of...I did purge up some food last night, but I did not binge. That is a huge step for me. I ate last night: 2 Hot Dogs and 2 Klondike Sandwiches--this is guilt food, and not allowed after my extravagent brunch!! My brain was screaming at me, so while throwing up food is VERY BAD, I should be proud of myself for not losing control and eating everything in site. The problem is that I felt like 2 Hot Dogs and 2 Klondikes was losing control, but I stopped there. Not exactly what I wanted, but I did okay. Again, getting through the first 48 is the worst part, and lately (last 6 months or so) I have had little success. So perhaps today is Day 1.5, and I will consider that a small victory. I slept most of the morning because a bulimic is always running on empty. ZERO energy. But I did sleep well, and today I honestly feel much better. I've had breakfast: 2 peaches and Lunch-ish: Rice cakes and Nacho Cheese Bugles (horrible for me I know, but I can only fill my head with so many rules today!). I've had plenty of water/propel and took all my vitamins. In a little while, I am going running. This I have avoided like the plague in the last 3 weeks (unusual for me), mostly because it is summertime in NC, and the weather has been stifling. Moreover, I am out of shape and will have to build my stamina back up. I can tell you, all eating disorders aside, this is no easy task. Like most anything else worth doing, it takes HARD WORK, and I have not been in the mood (read: I have barely been able to stand up much less run) for any kind of strenuous activity.
My fall marathon training begins July 1st. So today, I best get my rear in gear. I have made a commitment to myself to do the Raleigh marathon in November, but my number 1 priority is beating bulimia. So...we'll just see how it goes.
I made it. Well, kind of...I did purge up some food last night, but I did not binge. That is a huge step for me. I ate last night: 2 Hot Dogs and 2 Klondike Sandwiches--this is guilt food, and not allowed after my extravagent brunch!! My brain was screaming at me, so while throwing up food is VERY BAD, I should be proud of myself for not losing control and eating everything in site. The problem is that I felt like 2 Hot Dogs and 2 Klondikes was losing control, but I stopped there. Not exactly what I wanted, but I did okay. Again, getting through the first 48 is the worst part, and lately (last 6 months or so) I have had little success. So perhaps today is Day 1.5, and I will consider that a small victory. I slept most of the morning because a bulimic is always running on empty. ZERO energy. But I did sleep well, and today I honestly feel much better. I've had breakfast: 2 peaches and Lunch-ish: Rice cakes and Nacho Cheese Bugles (horrible for me I know, but I can only fill my head with so many rules today!). I've had plenty of water/propel and took all my vitamins. In a little while, I am going running. This I have avoided like the plague in the last 3 weeks (unusual for me), mostly because it is summertime in NC, and the weather has been stifling. Moreover, I am out of shape and will have to build my stamina back up. I can tell you, all eating disorders aside, this is no easy task. Like most anything else worth doing, it takes HARD WORK, and I have not been in the mood (read: I have barely been able to stand up much less run) for any kind of strenuous activity.
My fall marathon training begins July 1st. So today, I best get my rear in gear. I have made a commitment to myself to do the Raleigh marathon in November, but my number 1 priority is beating bulimia. So...we'll just see how it goes.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
What to Do?
As it progresses, bulimia nervosa takes over a person's life. It compromises her body, uses up her time and money, limits her social contacts, and narrows her emotions to those that support the disorder itself.
At the same time, it is comforting in its predictability. Giving up the disorder means having to fill all the parts of life that the eating disorder has taken -- making choices about how to spend money (rather than having the choice made for her), rebuilding friendships, and finding ways to be productive with time.
How very true. Still Day 1, and a Saturday at that. Typically, on a summer weekend, I would be at the pool, going for a run or getting ready for a night out. Right now, however, I can't think about anything other than food. I have not eaten since brunch this morning. I don't feel hungry and I do not want to eat because I am feeling extremely large. This is not all in my head, I am bloated from weeks of binging/purging and I am about to get my period. Literally, I am heavier. It disgusts me, but I know if I eat something I may not stop. Which starts the whole business over again. So...what to do, what to do? I declined an offer to go drink margaritas with my brother and his friends---trully, I do not want to be seen in public. My clothes aren't fitting comfortably and I feel horribly un-cute. Right now I am miserable.
At the same time, it is comforting in its predictability. Giving up the disorder means having to fill all the parts of life that the eating disorder has taken -- making choices about how to spend money (rather than having the choice made for her), rebuilding friendships, and finding ways to be productive with time.
How very true. Still Day 1, and a Saturday at that. Typically, on a summer weekend, I would be at the pool, going for a run or getting ready for a night out. Right now, however, I can't think about anything other than food. I have not eaten since brunch this morning. I don't feel hungry and I do not want to eat because I am feeling extremely large. This is not all in my head, I am bloated from weeks of binging/purging and I am about to get my period. Literally, I am heavier. It disgusts me, but I know if I eat something I may not stop. Which starts the whole business over again. So...what to do, what to do? I declined an offer to go drink margaritas with my brother and his friends---trully, I do not want to be seen in public. My clothes aren't fitting comfortably and I feel horribly un-cute. Right now I am miserable.
this ain't a rap song, this my life
DAY 1
I am now officially in Recovery. A sort-of homespun 12 Step program. My mom is the only one privy to this program: which, in reality is just COLD freaking TURKEY. Heroin addicts get methadone, and nicotine addicts get prescriptions or patches. Granted, most addictive disorders involve treatments that you are required to strictly give up completely. Such as alcohol or gambling. But my addiction is both socially acceptable and encouraged. You have to eat. Friends get annoyed if you go out and refuse to eat or eat little. Unfortunately, this is a VERY slippery slope for me. If I eat more than I have allotted for the meal or for the day, I am a mess. I fixate on nothing else but erasing the excess. By any means necessary.
My point is, today, DAY 1, is REALLY HARD. It should be obvious that I am a "serious case" and have had bulimic binge/purge episodes several times DAILY for many years. I have done the therapy/prescription option, and I can tell you I got in touch will all my damn feelings and still puked all my food up. I was on Prozac and my own parents didn't recognize me. I think me on anti-depressants scared them more than being bulimic. I was so placid; pure apathy. Where I find myself today at 29.5 years old, is VERY SCARED. I am absolutely terrified about the health consequences of my actions. Hence, here I am, ready to kick this nonsense once and for all. And on Day 1, of all things, I went to brunch with my family.
Strawberry and Banana Crepes with Vanilla Creme and Whipped Cream. Sausage Gravy with a Biscuit. and five bites of my brother's Pancakes with Butter and Syrup. (I did not clean my plates because I *rarely* do that in public--I ate roughly half of the crepes and biscuit and all of the yummy parts). Two Glasses of Water and a Diet Coke.
I am extremely full. Not to mention I felt like a cow before brunch. Last night was a horrible night, eating-wise, but I honestly don't want to go into the gory details just now. I feel like rolling myself over on the couch and my mind is screaming:
THAT WAS WAY OVER 800 calories!!! I should only eat about 800 calories in the whole day!!! FAT!! FAT!! FAT!! I LOOK DISGUSTING!! OH GOD, HOW WILL I EVER LOOK GOOD IN MY BIKINI AGAIN????? GET THAT *$$*%# OUT OF MY BODY NOW!!!
And then I look at my mom, and the promises I have made her. The promises I have made myself, and I just suffered through it. Actually, I got a pedicure with my mom. I tried (am trying) very hard to drive those thoughts to the far corners of my mind. It is (kind of) working. Baby steps, I suppose.
And then....
My mom (who is the most amazing support system, needless to say) offered me a fabulous new handbag when I make 20 days!! Holy Crap! Now if that is motivating, I don't know what is...she's got me good now...
But, candidly, the first 48 hours are incredibly difficult. I am in a warzone with my own head. I am fighting myself. And then once I pass that threshold, the world is a brighter place. I am a semblance of ME again. Not the "me" that is a shell of a person--that person has sadly become the norm. The clouds seem to lift after about 2 days and my spirits soar. In a cruel twist of fate, this is perhaps an even more dangerous time. One bite of junk food, and I am sure I am strong enough---but I NEVER am. Statistically, the highest rate of successful suicides occur as patients are coming out of their deep depression. The reason for this is, the sufferer believes they have hit rock bottom and start to climb up out of their deep dark whole. Bit by bit, they feel better, yet one notch backwards can send them reeling. Suddenly, and tragically, life seems so much more helpless than ever before. I am not suicidal, but I have been so severely depressed, that I was (many years ago, and really I think I just grew up and gained some perspective. and I got a dog--a creature that depended on me and loved me unconditionally without judgment. worked miracles!!). On a depression scale, where suicide is -2 and pure euphoria is a 12, my pendulum is currently swinging from a 3-6. This is awful! In my mind, my life should fluctuate from 5-10. When I win the lottery or get married, I look forward to 12.
After I ate brunch--that was a 3. I was racked with anxiety. Now, 4 hours later, I might be at a 5. The evidence doesn't lie, given enough time--- I WILL BE OKAY and I WILL GET THROUGH THIS.
I am going to go pick out my new purse online now, I think...
I am now officially in Recovery. A sort-of homespun 12 Step program. My mom is the only one privy to this program: which, in reality is just COLD freaking TURKEY. Heroin addicts get methadone, and nicotine addicts get prescriptions or patches. Granted, most addictive disorders involve treatments that you are required to strictly give up completely. Such as alcohol or gambling. But my addiction is both socially acceptable and encouraged. You have to eat. Friends get annoyed if you go out and refuse to eat or eat little. Unfortunately, this is a VERY slippery slope for me. If I eat more than I have allotted for the meal or for the day, I am a mess. I fixate on nothing else but erasing the excess. By any means necessary.
My point is, today, DAY 1, is REALLY HARD. It should be obvious that I am a "serious case" and have had bulimic binge/purge episodes several times DAILY for many years. I have done the therapy/prescription option, and I can tell you I got in touch will all my damn feelings and still puked all my food up. I was on Prozac and my own parents didn't recognize me. I think me on anti-depressants scared them more than being bulimic. I was so placid; pure apathy. Where I find myself today at 29.5 years old, is VERY SCARED. I am absolutely terrified about the health consequences of my actions. Hence, here I am, ready to kick this nonsense once and for all. And on Day 1, of all things, I went to brunch with my family.
Strawberry and Banana Crepes with Vanilla Creme and Whipped Cream. Sausage Gravy with a Biscuit. and five bites of my brother's Pancakes with Butter and Syrup. (I did not clean my plates because I *rarely* do that in public--I ate roughly half of the crepes and biscuit and all of the yummy parts). Two Glasses of Water and a Diet Coke.
I am extremely full. Not to mention I felt like a cow before brunch. Last night was a horrible night, eating-wise, but I honestly don't want to go into the gory details just now. I feel like rolling myself over on the couch and my mind is screaming:
THAT WAS WAY OVER 800 calories!!! I should only eat about 800 calories in the whole day!!! FAT!! FAT!! FAT!! I LOOK DISGUSTING!! OH GOD, HOW WILL I EVER LOOK GOOD IN MY BIKINI AGAIN????? GET THAT *$$*%# OUT OF MY BODY NOW!!!
And then I look at my mom, and the promises I have made her. The promises I have made myself, and I just suffered through it. Actually, I got a pedicure with my mom. I tried (am trying) very hard to drive those thoughts to the far corners of my mind. It is (kind of) working. Baby steps, I suppose.
And then....
My mom (who is the most amazing support system, needless to say) offered me a fabulous new handbag when I make 20 days!! Holy Crap! Now if that is motivating, I don't know what is...she's got me good now...
But, candidly, the first 48 hours are incredibly difficult. I am in a warzone with my own head. I am fighting myself. And then once I pass that threshold, the world is a brighter place. I am a semblance of ME again. Not the "me" that is a shell of a person--that person has sadly become the norm. The clouds seem to lift after about 2 days and my spirits soar. In a cruel twist of fate, this is perhaps an even more dangerous time. One bite of junk food, and I am sure I am strong enough---but I NEVER am. Statistically, the highest rate of successful suicides occur as patients are coming out of their deep depression. The reason for this is, the sufferer believes they have hit rock bottom and start to climb up out of their deep dark whole. Bit by bit, they feel better, yet one notch backwards can send them reeling. Suddenly, and tragically, life seems so much more helpless than ever before. I am not suicidal, but I have been so severely depressed, that I was (many years ago, and really I think I just grew up and gained some perspective. and I got a dog--a creature that depended on me and loved me unconditionally without judgment. worked miracles!!). On a depression scale, where suicide is -2 and pure euphoria is a 12, my pendulum is currently swinging from a 3-6. This is awful! In my mind, my life should fluctuate from 5-10. When I win the lottery or get married, I look forward to 12.
After I ate brunch--that was a 3. I was racked with anxiety. Now, 4 hours later, I might be at a 5. The evidence doesn't lie, given enough time--- I WILL BE OKAY and I WILL GET THROUGH THIS.
I am going to go pick out my new purse online now, I think...
Friday, June 27, 2008
Reality Check
I feel the need to reiterate to myself part of that passage I quoted earlier:
Bulimia is more likely to span over a lifetime unnoticed, causing a great deal of isolation and stress for the suffering individual. Despite the frequent lack of obvious physical symptoms, bulimia has proven to be fatal, as malnutrition takes a serious toll on every bodily organ.
That is a hard pill to swallow--I mean, I am a very smart woman and I am fully aware of the horrible way I am treating myself, but I never thought of it as FATAL.
I never even thought of it as a disease, per se. I've always just thought it was something I could just buck up and get over...I knew I could just stop with enough will power, lose the weight, finally be sastified with my body size and ride off into the sunset, I suppose. Well, *NEWS FLASH* --it isn't happening. 11:16pm June 27, 2008 and I am still bulimic, just as I was 10 minutes ago, just as I was 10 years ago.
Bulimia is more likely to span over a lifetime unnoticed, causing a great deal of isolation and stress for the suffering individual. Despite the frequent lack of obvious physical symptoms, bulimia has proven to be fatal, as malnutrition takes a serious toll on every bodily organ.
That is a hard pill to swallow--I mean, I am a very smart woman and I am fully aware of the horrible way I am treating myself, but I never thought of it as FATAL.
I never even thought of it as a disease, per se. I've always just thought it was something I could just buck up and get over...I knew I could just stop with enough will power, lose the weight, finally be sastified with my body size and ride off into the sunset, I suppose. Well, *NEWS FLASH* --it isn't happening. 11:16pm June 27, 2008 and I am still bulimic, just as I was 10 minutes ago, just as I was 10 years ago.
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