Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Hello? Anybody there?

I haven't posted in a really long time. I guess I felt like I had run out of positive things to say about recovery. And for awhile there, I really was on top of the eating disorder (never mind the severe and crippling depression and anxiety).

But things have changed. I can't identify a specific trigger or reason or cause. Maybe it's all the weight that I gained while taking abilify? The disappointment in watching myself fail at and have to give up my first and only real adult job? The depression that I cant shake, that voice in my head that tells me that I was always just a loser anyways so why not go back to the only thing I have ever been good at.

And it starts by purging only if I ate a little too much and got uncomfortably full. Telling myself "it will just be this once". Then there's the horror of my weight, that I'm really, truly, textbook overweight now and I can't really justify keeping any food down. The depression settles in like a sick, sticky fog and I really stop caring. I'm have wishing the next purge will kill me. I'm not taking care if myself and I know it, I'm not even trying, because if I keep going maybe it will take me in my sleep. It will be quiet, and sweet, like a release.

Then I shake myself awake and get honest in therapy and get some help. I've been in the hospital for depression three times in the past year. Shock treatments. The med merry go round. I come home feeling better, hopeful, but still purging. That's one thing that the general psych units can't really help me with.

I've finally decided to see a dietitian who specializes in eating disorders. Because it's bad. Like, out of control. I've finally gotten honest with myself about it. For the past year I've been saying to myself "it's not a problem because I'm not underweight". But that's not true. Purging everything you eat is a problem. Throwing up 6 times a day is a problem. So is throwing up blood. Losing 5 teeth. Taking your phone into the bathroom with you when you go to throw up in case you have an incident (esophagus rupture, heart attack) and have to dial 911.

So yeah, I look normal on the outside. You can't tell just by looking at me. But I have an eating disorder and its severe.

My assessment with the dietitian isn't for two weeks. I'm pinning a lot of hope on this one. But two weeks...that seems like a long time. Because I'm not really counting in days. I'm counting in purges, in number of times spent retching my guts out into the toilet bowl. I'm conservatively saying 3 "episodes" of vomiting a day, but it's usually 5 or 6. But let's be optimistic and say 3. Three times a day x 14 days. When I think about that I feel sad and scared and overwhelmed. I crawl into bed and cry. I take an Ativan and try to cope. This illness is trauma to me. It's a trauma I face every day. Maybe I'm being overly dramatic but I'm kind of worried I won't make it to my appointment.

I'm going to take it one day at a time, and just do the best I can to take care of myself. I'm not sure what will happen at the appointment or if it will even help. But I'm not worrying about that just yet. First I have to get there.


1 comment:

E said...

I'm here always -- but you already know that!