So, today I'd like to share with you, yesterday. I touched on it a bit in my last post, but I thought today I could elaborate on how hard recovery really is.
At the beginning of this journey, when I was told I was going into an inpatient treatment facility, basically "rehab". I was so convinced I didn't need that level of care, everyone else thought other wise. The thing is I never really saw how bad things were until I was in treatment and realized how much of a grip had on me.
I'm assuming that my family and friends thought when I came home I'd be "cured" and all would be well. That's so NOT how it works. I was terrified to come home. I knew there wouldn't be as much support as there was at rehab and no one would be here to make me eat, and I'd have access to many things that were not the best in my recovery. In treatment I got to take a break from life, although I wouldn't really call rehab a break. But it was important to put everything else on hold and focus solely on my recovery. I never imagined how hard it would be and how much work I'd have to put in it. I went in with the expectations that after a month I'd come home and everything would be okay, until I actually started working on my recovery there and realized it's not an overnight cure.
Coming home was scarey because I knew I wasn't ready to face recovery and life at the same time. But I couldn't stay in rehab forever, nor did I want to.
So I thought I'd give you guys a little more insight as to how hard recovery truly is.
You see Ed, does not like walks in the park, actually he despises them. He hates seeing all the beauty in life and he hates focusing on the scenery and all the joy it can bring. By this I mean, he doesn't like to make it easy and he hates how I'm starting to see life as it is meant to be lived. So no recovery is not a walk in the park. With every bit of progress I make, he's right there trying to throw me back in the prison I've escaped from. Although for the most part I am able to distinguish his lies from my truth that does not convince him to leave me alone. I still have Ed screaming in my ear, but where before I had no idea it was really Ed, now I know that and it's scary how much of my mind he has consumed.
So here's the deal, every day I wake up, lately I've been having good days, but there is still a battle to be fought. Everyday Ed takes the opportunity to imprison me once more. Everyday I have to fight, to keep my head above water. But because of the progress I've made, I've been having a lot of good days. Well yesterday was not one of those days. Ed had made himself a little more comfy in my mind yesterday. When Ed takes up a lot of space he adds urges to act on behaviors, he adds lots of body image issues, he adds frustration and over all he makes me weak.
Now for those of you who don't know what "behaviors" are, they are binging, purging, restricting, over exercising, and pretty much everything I'm trying to get away from. I was so so tired yesterday, tired of fighting. It's not a walk in the park, its not a just make yourself eat. Its so much more. Its like hiking up a slippery iced hill in a blizzard, with no light. But of course now I've got a flash light that allows me to see where I'm going, I'm still walking around in utter darkness. So yesterday was a bad day. It was hard for me to distinguish what Ed wanted and what I wanted. So I was having really strong urges to restrict, yesterday I was really too tired to fight, so I ate as much as I could possibly stand, but in no way was I eating as much as I should have. Next I was having really strong urges to binge and purge...I haven't done this in 2 months now. That is a REALLY long time and I'm so proud of myself and looking at this gives me hope that recovery is possible. I never thought I'd see the day where I wouldn't binge and purge. Yesterday the urge was so strong I almost gave in. Luckily I had some support from one of the girls from TK (my treatment center). She offered me so much wisdom and was truly an answer to prayer. After talking to her I received some clarity. She told me to just take it hour by hour, to tell myself, Okay for this hour I will not act on anything, and then once that hour was up I'd tell myself the same thing. Looking at it that way I was like yeah, I can do that. So at the end of the day I did not act on that particular behavior.
So to all the girls struggling, no matter how hard it gets, no matter how many times Ed breaks through the locked door and tries to steal you away in the darkness, tell yourself, hour by hour and you CAN do this. I wish you all the luck in the world. Remember how much stronger you are than this disease! Remember that every time Ed wants to break you, you are too strong to break. Keep your head high and your goals higher. You got this! :)
Special thanks to the amazing woman who offered me support yesterday! You really made a difference, so Thank you! :)
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Ed is not a boyfriend he's my stalker...
Ed is not just partial to food and body image...
Ed is not a "diet", Ed is not vain, Ed really doesn't care if I am thin or not. That's not Ed's purpose for being in my life. Ed tells me of course that being thin will make me happy, but that's not what Ed really cares about. Ed is not a choice, not a vanity trip, not low self-esteem, no, Ed is an illness.
Often times when people hear about eating disorders the following assumptions come up...
"It's just a diet gone bad"
"People with eating disorders are just vain and need to get over themselves."
"Well it's no wonder so many girls have eating disorders, the media pressures them to be thin."
"Oh, I don't think they know what they are doing to their bodies."
The problem with these assumptions is that they start to assume a solution based on them. People will try to explain how bad an eating disorder is and how unhealthy and dangerous it is, in hopes of convincing girls "not to have one". People think that if we encourage body acceptance and campaign that inner beauty is what's really important that this will minimize the risk of young girls "developing" an eating disorder. People also make the assumption that if the media did not put so much pressure to be thin in order to be attractive or successful that so many girls would not "have" eating disorders.
Well the truth is all of the above are ignorant suggestions and an absolute insult to people suffering from this mental illness. While I'm not opposed to encouraging people to accept their bodies and see the importance is who you are as a person, not what you look like, this is not a solution to the epidemic. This right here is why It is my mission and the mission of many others to spread awareness to the fact that Ed is not some guy you choose to be in a relationship with, yet a stalker that you cannot control. More technically put, Ed is a mental illness. You cannot just not have a mental illness, just like people cannot just not have bipolar, schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, etc. You wouldn't tell someone with schizophrenia to just stop hearing voices, you cannot tell someone with bipolar disorder to just stop being manic or depressed, and you cannot tell someone with depression to just cheer up and the same with anxiety you cannot just tell them to calm down. It is a mental illness that affects the mind. The more society, doctors, etc, try to cover it up as a choice, addiction, or vanity disease the less research will be done to find exactly what is "causing" this mental illness. We need to find out what is going on in the brain that is causing an eating disorder. By spreading more awareness on the topic we will get closer and closer to having more research being done.
Here are a few examples of how Ed does not just tell me to not eat, or to hate my body, no these are just a few of the major symptoms of having Ed.
This morning 10/10/12, something that happened made me feel stupid, ashamed, insecure, and like I had failed. I really didn't give it much thought, I knew what I had to do to rectify these feelings and I started to do that and just assumed I was over it. To be honest, at first I didn't recognize I was having these feelings until I had a revelation. I was so into what I was working on and enjoying my second cup of coffee, when I noticed the time and knew I needed to stop and eat breakfast. During my recovery from an eating disorder it is very important that I stick to my meal plan and eat when I'm supposed to, if I don't do this it can lead to a relapse. I was not hungry at all and very angry that I couldn't just skip breakfast like I used to because I was never hungry til about lunch time.
So I went into the kitchen mad as hell and started to make a bowl of cereal when I looked down at the cereal I was overwhelmed with feelings and Ed's voice, "this will make you fat", "you really don't have to eat this", "you could just lie and say you had breakfast, your dietitian will never know.", "why don't you skip just this one time, you'll be fine no need to worry, you are planning on having lunch right? See you really don't need breakfast." I tried my best to ignore his suggestions, and sat down to my cereal with tears literally rolling down my face. I was so angry that one minute I'm doing really good, that eating is easier and not a big deal. Then the next minute I'm faced with this. The thought of taking a bite of that cereal was so painful that I just sat and stared at it. Until I realized what had happened!
Because of the feelings I was having earlier the feeling that I was incompetent, turned to my appetite and that's why I felt I was not hungry...for so long when I would screw up, feel bad about myself, make a mistake I would just restrict, binge and purge, or compulsively exercise to rectify those feelings and the fact that I have recognized this is a huge milestone in my recovery.
Another time this happened, I had studied for an upcoming math test, went to a tutor, and really prepared myself. I was so excited, because I knew I was going to ace this test. I couldn't wait to get the results because I knew I'd feel so proud and accomplished...I'd feel for once that I was capable of being smart. Well the day came when I got my test back and complete horror struck as I saw my grade...61 in a circle, in red sharpie. I felt as if someone had crushed me and knocked me on the ground. I was so close to breaking out in tears. How could this have happened? I studied so hard and really went the extra mile to make a good grade. So of course I felt stupid, incompetent, like a failure, and in utter disgust of myself and my stupidity. When I got into the car that night I burst into tears, yelling at myself, "you're so stupid, you will never be smart". And what do you think happened next? I went through a drive through ordered whatever I wanted and begin to binge and then purge. This made me feel better, this reminded me that although I'm stupid at least I control my weight, at least I have the power to accomplish losing weight. I felt such a sense of relief after purging.
The next time Ed sneaked in through my personal life was when I walked in my room from a long stressful day at work and on my bed were a pile of bills. I picked them up and felt so overwhelmed. I also felt irresponsible, unworthy, stupid, angry with myself and most importantly out of control. So of course Ed chimed in, "well you can't manage your finances, but you can manage your weight. Go workout a lot tonight and make yourself feel better. You should do extra tonight so you can see how successful you are at managing your weight. This will make you feel better.". So what did I do, I grabbed my stuff and went to the gym asap, once there I let myself go and only focused on how fast I was running, how hard I was working out and the number of calories I'd burned. Once I left the gym of course Ed was telling me I could have done more that I can't even stand to have a good workout, how was I ever going to control my weight. So yes, I forgot about the bills, but no I did not feel better.
These are just a few examples in my life as to how Ed disrupts every part. How Ed sneaks in and makes losing weight first priority, how he convinces me that as long as I lose weight nothing else matters.
I hope this helps you see that an eating disorder is not about food and appearance, It's about much more. Ed having me convinced that losing weight was the first priority in my life had me forget everything else that mattered. I forgot how to manage my feelings, how to sit with negative feelings, how to rectify my self criticism. After many years of this, I am now learning through recovery how to deal with my emotions and the many life stresses. I'm learning how to figure out where all this self criticism comes from and how to change it. It's a daily process and it's very confusing trying to figure out everything going on in my mind, but I'm working on it. :)
Ed is not a "diet", Ed is not vain, Ed really doesn't care if I am thin or not. That's not Ed's purpose for being in my life. Ed tells me of course that being thin will make me happy, but that's not what Ed really cares about. Ed is not a choice, not a vanity trip, not low self-esteem, no, Ed is an illness.
Often times when people hear about eating disorders the following assumptions come up...
"It's just a diet gone bad"
"People with eating disorders are just vain and need to get over themselves."
"Well it's no wonder so many girls have eating disorders, the media pressures them to be thin."
"Oh, I don't think they know what they are doing to their bodies."
The problem with these assumptions is that they start to assume a solution based on them. People will try to explain how bad an eating disorder is and how unhealthy and dangerous it is, in hopes of convincing girls "not to have one". People think that if we encourage body acceptance and campaign that inner beauty is what's really important that this will minimize the risk of young girls "developing" an eating disorder. People also make the assumption that if the media did not put so much pressure to be thin in order to be attractive or successful that so many girls would not "have" eating disorders.
Well the truth is all of the above are ignorant suggestions and an absolute insult to people suffering from this mental illness. While I'm not opposed to encouraging people to accept their bodies and see the importance is who you are as a person, not what you look like, this is not a solution to the epidemic. This right here is why It is my mission and the mission of many others to spread awareness to the fact that Ed is not some guy you choose to be in a relationship with, yet a stalker that you cannot control. More technically put, Ed is a mental illness. You cannot just not have a mental illness, just like people cannot just not have bipolar, schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, etc. You wouldn't tell someone with schizophrenia to just stop hearing voices, you cannot tell someone with bipolar disorder to just stop being manic or depressed, and you cannot tell someone with depression to just cheer up and the same with anxiety you cannot just tell them to calm down. It is a mental illness that affects the mind. The more society, doctors, etc, try to cover it up as a choice, addiction, or vanity disease the less research will be done to find exactly what is "causing" this mental illness. We need to find out what is going on in the brain that is causing an eating disorder. By spreading more awareness on the topic we will get closer and closer to having more research being done.
Here are a few examples of how Ed does not just tell me to not eat, or to hate my body, no these are just a few of the major symptoms of having Ed.
This morning 10/10/12, something that happened made me feel stupid, ashamed, insecure, and like I had failed. I really didn't give it much thought, I knew what I had to do to rectify these feelings and I started to do that and just assumed I was over it. To be honest, at first I didn't recognize I was having these feelings until I had a revelation. I was so into what I was working on and enjoying my second cup of coffee, when I noticed the time and knew I needed to stop and eat breakfast. During my recovery from an eating disorder it is very important that I stick to my meal plan and eat when I'm supposed to, if I don't do this it can lead to a relapse. I was not hungry at all and very angry that I couldn't just skip breakfast like I used to because I was never hungry til about lunch time.
So I went into the kitchen mad as hell and started to make a bowl of cereal when I looked down at the cereal I was overwhelmed with feelings and Ed's voice, "this will make you fat", "you really don't have to eat this", "you could just lie and say you had breakfast, your dietitian will never know.", "why don't you skip just this one time, you'll be fine no need to worry, you are planning on having lunch right? See you really don't need breakfast." I tried my best to ignore his suggestions, and sat down to my cereal with tears literally rolling down my face. I was so angry that one minute I'm doing really good, that eating is easier and not a big deal. Then the next minute I'm faced with this. The thought of taking a bite of that cereal was so painful that I just sat and stared at it. Until I realized what had happened!
Because of the feelings I was having earlier the feeling that I was incompetent, turned to my appetite and that's why I felt I was not hungry...for so long when I would screw up, feel bad about myself, make a mistake I would just restrict, binge and purge, or compulsively exercise to rectify those feelings and the fact that I have recognized this is a huge milestone in my recovery.
Another time this happened, I had studied for an upcoming math test, went to a tutor, and really prepared myself. I was so excited, because I knew I was going to ace this test. I couldn't wait to get the results because I knew I'd feel so proud and accomplished...I'd feel for once that I was capable of being smart. Well the day came when I got my test back and complete horror struck as I saw my grade...61 in a circle, in red sharpie. I felt as if someone had crushed me and knocked me on the ground. I was so close to breaking out in tears. How could this have happened? I studied so hard and really went the extra mile to make a good grade. So of course I felt stupid, incompetent, like a failure, and in utter disgust of myself and my stupidity. When I got into the car that night I burst into tears, yelling at myself, "you're so stupid, you will never be smart". And what do you think happened next? I went through a drive through ordered whatever I wanted and begin to binge and then purge. This made me feel better, this reminded me that although I'm stupid at least I control my weight, at least I have the power to accomplish losing weight. I felt such a sense of relief after purging.
The next time Ed sneaked in through my personal life was when I walked in my room from a long stressful day at work and on my bed were a pile of bills. I picked them up and felt so overwhelmed. I also felt irresponsible, unworthy, stupid, angry with myself and most importantly out of control. So of course Ed chimed in, "well you can't manage your finances, but you can manage your weight. Go workout a lot tonight and make yourself feel better. You should do extra tonight so you can see how successful you are at managing your weight. This will make you feel better.". So what did I do, I grabbed my stuff and went to the gym asap, once there I let myself go and only focused on how fast I was running, how hard I was working out and the number of calories I'd burned. Once I left the gym of course Ed was telling me I could have done more that I can't even stand to have a good workout, how was I ever going to control my weight. So yes, I forgot about the bills, but no I did not feel better.
These are just a few examples in my life as to how Ed disrupts every part. How Ed sneaks in and makes losing weight first priority, how he convinces me that as long as I lose weight nothing else matters.
I hope this helps you see that an eating disorder is not about food and appearance, It's about much more. Ed having me convinced that losing weight was the first priority in my life had me forget everything else that mattered. I forgot how to manage my feelings, how to sit with negative feelings, how to rectify my self criticism. After many years of this, I am now learning through recovery how to deal with my emotions and the many life stresses. I'm learning how to figure out where all this self criticism comes from and how to change it. It's a daily process and it's very confusing trying to figure out everything going on in my mind, but I'm working on it. :)
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Step 2 of the 12 steps...
Step Two
Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves
could restore us to sanity.
So I found this step quite annoying, because I already have a higher power and believe God can restore me to sanity. I do see the importance of the literature in Step two for those who have not connected to a higher power and need to find what this means to them. I guess for me the one thing is that I just need to practice this belief and actually rely on God to help me. I do believe in God, but have been distant, I feel from him, for a very long time. I pray every once in awhile and do acknowledge his presence, but have not fully committed to having faith that he can and will save me from the demons I fight. I am embarrassed to admit this and feel shameful to have not truly trusted God for the past while. I am continuing to work on my relationship with God in hopes that soon I will be where I once was at, if not better.
Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves
could restore us to sanity.
So I found this step quite annoying, because I already have a higher power and believe God can restore me to sanity. I do see the importance of the literature in Step two for those who have not connected to a higher power and need to find what this means to them. I guess for me the one thing is that I just need to practice this belief and actually rely on God to help me. I do believe in God, but have been distant, I feel from him, for a very long time. I pray every once in awhile and do acknowledge his presence, but have not fully committed to having faith that he can and will save me from the demons I fight. I am embarrassed to admit this and feel shameful to have not truly trusted God for the past while. I am continuing to work on my relationship with God in hopes that soon I will be where I once was at, if not better.
5 things I have faith in:
* I have faith in God.
* I have faith that I will come out of this stronger and better.
* I have faith that everything happens for a reason.
* I have faith that God has allowed me to walk through this storm, because he has plans for me that only after I conquered this, I could pursue.
* I have faith that I can and will accomplish my hopes and dreams.
3 pieces of Evidence that help is available:
* My sponsor is evidence that I have someone who has overcame this illness and is willing to help me do the same.
* My therapist
* My dietician
* Eating Disorder Anonymous Meetings
Belief A: Good things do happen but, the universe is essentially a cold, hostile place in which I can trust only myself.
How I would feel if I were to believe Belief A?
I would feel that good things are possible if I make them possible, but I would feel it a much too complicated a struggle sense I'd have to do it alone. I'd probably not even try because doing things on my own have not worked for me in the past and I don't know how it would be any different this time.
How would you live this week if you believed belief A?
I'd probably live in lonliness and despair. I can't imagine not being able to turn to anyone for support. I would most likely go on a honeymoon with Ed and never come back. With no one to turn to why not turn to Ed the guy who has been here with me all along?
Belief B: Bad things do happen but the universe is essentially a safe place in which someone or something has my best interest at heart.
How I would feel if I were to believe belief B?
I'd feel hopeful that there is a way out of my abusive relationship with Ed. I'd feel like there must be someone, somewhere, who wanted to see me divorce Ed and live a happy, peaceful life. I'd feel hopeful that someone out there would support me and be by my side as I filed for divorce and presented the papers to Ed.
How would you live this week if you believed belief B?
I would contact a lawyer and start working on divorce papers lol.
No, seriously I would try my best to ignore Ed's emotional abuse and try my best to abstain from his physical abuse as well. I'd go to meetings, talk with my sponsor and support team. I'd meet with my therapist and dietician. I'd continue on with my outpatient program, work the 12 steps and continue reading an inspiring recovery story by Jenni Schaefer. I'd feel like there is a way out because I have people who will help me climb out of the whole Ed threw me in.
What do you believe about a power greater than yourself?
I believe in God I am christian and practice the nondenominational religion. I believe faith is the core of miracles, and that with God all things are possible. I believe God never gives us more than we can bare. I believe that if you lay down your heavy burdens God will pick them up. I believe in one God, in the baptism in Jesus name, and the gift of the holy spirit.
When you think of yourself as "restored to sanity" what comes to mind, describe what you see.
Ooo this is a tough one not because I can't picture what I want, but to believe complete restoration is possible. I've had Ed in my life for so long I can't imagine my life without him. Hopefully one day I will believe and have faith that it is possible to have NO contact with ED. But for the heck of it here's what "restored to sanity" looks like for me.
I would no longer be a prisoner in my mind. I would set goals and achieve them, dream big and make it happen. I would practice my values, morals, and integrity. I would make a difference in peoples lives. I'd love deeply and not be afraid of getting hurt. I'd love myself for all the positive things I've done, am doing, and will do, instead of the size of my pants, or shape of my body.
I would be in a passionate, intense, ongoing relationship with life. I'd see the magic and possiblities that my dreams can create and I'd see the magic happen right before my eyes. I'd be a leader, someone people look up to and say, "man I admire her" and even be a role model to kids. I would spread love and compassion. I'd be successful. I'd be the light for so many people traveling down a dark road. I would inspire people. So basically I would not be insane, unless someone caught me singing and dancing in the mirror to my favorite song, then I'm sure they would think I was insane...I get really into it. Haha!
How do you feel about having a greater power than yourself?
Well being as I do have a higher power, Jesus...I feel comforted, hopeful, loved, and excited.
These were the choices I had to choose from in my workbook. :)
What is one thing you can do today to choose sanity?
Well yesterday, I actually did a lot of things, I worked on step 2 of the 12 steps, saw my therapist, and reached out to someone in my support group. :) And for today I have worked on my recovery blog, and will be attending my outpatient group. :)
What were some acts you or others found insane while you were deep in your disease?
After talking with a friend that is on my support team I agreed with her that this question needed of it's own. This question brings up many topics that are never touched when one might be learning about the illness itself or when one is trying to understand the illness. I'm assuming because the answers to this question are so grotesque and raw that many victims of the disease share these things only with their therapist. There are a few memoirs out there that are open about what I am going to share. Keep in mind that not everyone suffers from this illness the same. Everything I am about to share might not be things felt and did by others suffering with bulimia. I however, am aware that many of these things are quite the norm for most people suffering from bulimia. I'm sure many people do not care to read the following, or do not even want to believe it is real, that it is an illness not a choice, but to those willing to read the following I applaud you in your attempt to educate yourself on a disease that has taken the life of many.
One of the questions in my workbook for step 2 is the following:
What were some things you did that felt insane to you or others while you were deep in your disease?
Oh, this list could go on and on. For my viewers to better educate you and really give you insight on the depths of this disease, I am going to go deep. I am going to go really deep, deep down into my dark secrets in my struggle with bulimia. So deep that sharing this could possibly ruin my reputation with a lot of people, make me seem literally insane, stupid, weird, or crazy. Yet at the same time sharing this will better educate people on eating disorders and everything that co-exist with them. So I have made the choice to risk my reputation with many in attempt to save others. After all one of my favorite quotes from the famous Dr. Seuss - "Those who mind don't matter and those that matter don't mind."
My goal for my viewers is that either you gain some insight, and are better educated and to those suffering I want to let you know, you are NOT alone and recovery IS possible. To all the women and men suffering from this grotesque illness my hope is that you find this blog and that it inspires you to seek recovery not only to save yourself, but to experience the freedom you will gain with recovery.
At the time I did not feel my acts were insane, but necessary. I am going to be referring to my Eating Disorder as ED. I like to imagine it as a person, it better helps me to distinguish myself from the disease. To some, referring to my eating disorder as a person might seem silly. If this is you then while reading, just replace Ed with eating disorder. I like to capture the thoughts that have haunted my mind during my disease as a dialogue between Ed and I. So you will hear me say things like Ed told me, Ed showed me, Ed had me convinced. Of course I do not want to make this seem humorous because the last thing this disease is, is funny. In an attempt to help you grasp the idea of having these thoughts dictate my every move, and every decision I think it helps to refer to him as an insensitive dictator in my life at the time. I am not fully recovered and Ed still talks to me on a daily basis, but because now, for the most part I can distinguish my eating disorder thoughts from my own it helps me to fight Ed rather than surrender to his ways.
With being bulimic comes many secrets and actions that are appalling and shameful. So shameful that the victim starts to be ashamed of who they are, even though most people around them do not know these dark secrets, the victim is so convinced they ought to be ashamed of themselves. A lot of times many victims do not know they have an illness. Most suffers develop the disease at a young age and live with it so long they just assume it is who they are. This was me, living in shame and imprisoned in my own mind.
A person suffering from bulimia will binge and purge. Binging is when a large amount of food is consumed in a short period of time. Every suffer has their own definition of a binge. For some it might be eating a little too much at a meal, for others it may be having a lot of a forbidden food (more on forbidden foods later), and for others a binge consist of eating the amount of many meals at one time. This behavior is impulsive and most of the time a sufferer finds themselves going through a ton of food in a trance state of mind. No they are not in a trance per say, but once they finally stop eating they are in shock of how much they ate. Most experience a lack of control, feeling as if they have no control over how much they eat. After a binge a sufferer will feel guilty, and ashamed. People suffering from bulimia will then purge. There are a variety of ways used to purge, some use self induced vomiting, others use laxatives and diarectics, some will fast the next few days and others will compulsively exercise to burn off all the calories consumed. No matter what method of purging a sufferer chooses they are all harmful to ones health.
So here's my experience of binging and purging. Ed wanted me to restrict most of the time, restricting was the act of restricting a variety of foods from my diet EX; junk food, food high in fat, carbs, sugar or whatever Ed declares bad food. Another form of restricting was to restrict my calorie intake to way below the healthy amount. For me Ed liked to change things up, for one week I'd only be allowed to have 500 calories a day and other times I was only allowed to eat "safe foods" in my case Ed declared fruits and veggies safe, oh but not bananas they had too much sugar, and not potatoes...too many carbs. So I would go about my day as Ed would have it restricting my food intake. I would constantly be hungry, but Ed assured me that being hungry was good, that I was doing it right. Not eating made me irritable and I would snap at mostly anyone at anytime. Ed assured me that this would only last a little while until I got use to not eating. I had an extreme lack of energy and would constantly be tired, but Ed of course yelled at me and told me I was lazy and that I needed to do more because I was a fat cow. He constantly yelled in my ear, "you're so lazy", "so what you worked a double shift today, you better go to the gym", "what's that your exhausted? Who cares you lazy fat pig. get yourself to the gym or you will probably see an extra pound on the scale tomorrow". For me gaining a pound was one of my worst fears. I would wake up in the morning terrified to weigh because what if when I weighed myself and had gained a pound? Ed would be very angry and yell viciously in my ear. These were the thoughts that haunted my mind and for years I had no idea it was Ed speaking to me, I just assumed this was the way it was.
So like many bulimics restricting calories led to binging and binging led to purging. On one hand Ed was telling me, "Don't eat, don't eat, don't eat" and then on the other he would tell me, "well if you really must eat then you might as well eat as much as you want and then just get rid of it". See this is where things got confusing you would think knowing that I was going to throw everything up I wouldn't feel guilty or like I had failed, but boy are you wrong. As soon as I finished a binge I felt an extreme amount of guilt, shame, and worthlessness. How could I not refuse food? Ed has told me over and over again that it will make me fat and yet I dive in head first and eat more than I could ever imagine. So of course at this point Ed is yelling in my ear, "you're going to purge that aren't you?", "you have to get that out, now!". Then an over whelming feeling of anxiety takes place leaving me to panic and find the nearest place to puke my guts up. If for some reason I was not able to purge I would feel so guilty and ashamed, like my world was going to end for all the calories I just consumed. I literally felt so depressed an angry with myself that I would go to extreme measures to make myself feel better.
This is where things get ugly. For the most part I would always find a way to purge, I would go to extreme measures and do whatever I had to, to get rid of the calories I consumed and quickly too, for with every minute they were in my stomach I was getting fatter. At first it was as easy as going to the bathroom and "pretending" to shower, wash my face, shave my legs, anything to get the water running to mask the noise of me puking my guts up. This was also a very stressful act. Struggling with bulimia is very stressful and exhausting. All the lies and schemes to get what I needed which was usually access to purging. After carefully locking the door and starting the running water I would get down on my knees and violently make myself vomit. Warning: this gets ugly. I get so sick of the media trying to display eating disorders on television trying to spread awareness of the disease only to leave girls thinking it's an easy way to lose weight. After all they would never share with you what I'm about to share. Self induced vomiting was not a simple act of sticking my finger down my throat. It was painful, tedious, and violent. My back would convulse and my jaw would open extremely wide to the point of hurting...my eyes watered, my nose ran, and my face would turn red...sometimes even around my eyes I would get pink dots that would stay for a good few hours. This was not just throwing up once...no everything does not come out after one time, so I would repeatedly do this until Ed decided all the calories were out. So no, puking my guts up was not my idea of a good time, but it was necessary. No matter how painful it was, no matter how much damage it provoked on my body it was necessary. The pain was necessary, the cuts on my knuckles were necessary, the soreness in my jaw, the bruises on knees from kneeling over the toilet multiple times a day...it was all necessary.
Gross enough? Wait it gets worse. Once my family found out about my "secret" I had to be even more cunning and manipulative. At first I was terrified and a mess of anxiety and stress...how was I going to purge? But very soon Ed introduced me to my other options. My other options were puking in a bag in my room and hiding it in a shoe box until I could sneak downstairs and toss it in the outside trash...oh and I also not only had to throw it away, I had to make sure I hid it under the rest of the trash to keep anyone from seeing a bag full of vomit. When I was not at home Ed convinced me, why only limit my purging to my room? I couldn't just run home any time I ate too much at a restaurant, or when I ate too much at a get together and what about if I binged on my way to somewhere like school, work, or any other places I needed to go throughout my day. So I began puking in public bathrooms, in bags in my car, in church bathrooms, work bathrooms, school bathrooms, any place that would possibly work. I got so desperate that many times I contemplated walking to a woodsy place and just puking right there in the woods. I never reached that point thank God, although it wouldn't be any worse than all the other places I was puking. You are probably wondering at this point why I was binging and purging so much, well it becomes an addiction. Just like an alcoholic who cannot limit the amount of alcohol they drink, I could not limit the amount of times I binged and purged throughout the day. I was on average binging and purging 5 to 6 times a day. Some nights I would stay up all night long binging and purging over and over again until finally I passed out from exhaustion.
Another act of insanity was trying to fund my addiction. Binging gets pretty expensive. Three meals later from a drive through would be about $20 less in my pocket. A trip to the grocery store to buy binge food would easily put me out $50. So as time progressed and I got more desperate, I began to steal money from my parents to buy binge food. Now I never actually took money out of my moms purse, no I did it in a less conspicuous way...eating disorders are manipulative, deceitful, and scheming. I would ask my mom if I could go pick up something to eat and go to a fast food restaurant and order too much, and binge in my car and then retreat to my room to purge.
For a more detailed look of what a binge would be for me here's one of my worst. I woke up early one morning starving most likely because I did not eat the day before or I puked my guts up late that night. I decided to go get breakfast and on my way there Ed had convinced me to just make it a binge. Why not? Everyone was asleep, you've never binged on breakfast foods, this should be fun. Well it was more humiliating then anything. My first stop was Taco cabana where I ordered 4 breakfast tacos, next was shipely's where I ordered 1/2 a dozen donuts and then I stopped at McDonald's to pick up one more breakfast item to add to my list. With all my necessities for this binge I parked in the back of a Walgreens parking lot and begin to stuff my face. I ate so fast...I barely had time to taste anything and I became so overly full to the point of being sick without trying that I could not finish the rest of the donuts. I threw the trash away in an outside trashcan and then walked into walgreens, went straight to the restroom and puked my guts up. The whole time I felt like every one in the store knew I had just binged and knew I was going to the bathroom to purge. While in the restroom I was terrified someone would come in and hear me puking my guts up. Someone did come in and I jumped up quickly and sat on the toilet until they left and then continued with my puking.
Another act of insanity for me was hiding food in my room. Who the hell hides food in their room? Well the answer to that question is me and most of the people suffering from bulimia. After my family found out about my pattern they were wise to keep an eye out for signs of me eating too much. Unfortunately, I was tricky enough to pull the wool over their eyes and continue fueling my eating disorder. I would go to the grocery store late at night and stock up on binge food and carefully hide them in my closet or under my bed. That way they were accessible any time I felt the urge to binge and easy enough because I was already in my room where I would end up purging anyways.
I'm sure by now you are wondering if this is what I did all the time why am I not emaciated? Well the truth is majority of bulimics are a normal weight or over weight. There are many times when I was not able to purge and after starving my body, any time it did receive food it would clench onto it and hold it, for it never knew when I would feed it again. Binging and purging takes a huge toll on your body and messes a lot of stuff up. For awhile throughout the years of my eating disorder I would end up "getting better", not acting on behaviors such as binging and purging, yet still having that voice in my head. So when Ed got really loud I'd slip right back into the cycle of starving, binging, and purging. I am in no way trying to justify my weight because the truth is how much a person weighs does not have anything to do with whether or not they have an eating disorder. Anyone, anywhere may be struggling from an eating disorder and you not even know it. The media portrays being anorexic and bulimic as being emaciated...well that is not always the case.
This next one might seem more insane then all the rest. I would have complete meltdowns if I could not purge. I couldn't stand to have food sitting in my stomach this was not just when I binged. It got to the point where I was throwing up everything I ate, even salads. Ed had me convinced that if I was going to purge why not just purge everything. I was so sick at the time that I felt an extreme amount of guilt if I had food in my stomach. At times where I found myself in a sticky situation and could not purge I would have massive panic attacks. I would hypervenitilate, cry, and ultimately punish myself. Feeling full was not just uncomfotable physically it was extremely overwhelming mentally. Ed would torment me to no end when I had food in my stomach. He would say things like, "what are you going to do?", "Are you really going to sit there with food in your stomach?" "You know you are gaining weight right now, right?" "Ovbliously you don't care to be thin do you?", "I don't think you are even trying.", "Well you can expect to see another pound on the scale tomorrow.", "well that's what you get for eating and not being able to purge.". These were the thoughts that tormented me day and night. Awful, awful thoughts that I believed. I believed every word Ed was telling me. I was his victim of abuse and abuse me he did.
His abuse did not stop at tormenting my mind or causing me so much pain in my body from constantly purging he also added a little more pain. Any time I felt I had failed, any time I was angry with myself, or when I felt worthless, I felt the need to punish myself. I did so by compulsively exercising. I would set out to go to the gym on a mission. I deserved to work myself to the point of exhaustion. I would workout to the point of having blisters on my feet, overworked muscles, to the point of needing ice packs on numerous places on my body, needing to take pain relievers from all the aches I felt. This wasn't your typical workout of feeling the "burn", "if it burns it's working" and the typical pain of being sore after a good workout, no this was different. It was me going to the gym with a list of rules Ed made me follow. Here's an example, Ed would tell me, "tonight you have to do an hour on the treadmill oh and make sure you make your fat self run a little, that's the least you could do after having all that ranch dressing on your salad the other day.". Once I was on the treadmill he would add more rules, "set your incline this much, run for this much, run faster, no more walking". On top of the treadmill he would order me to do an hour on the elliptical, do 500 situps and much more. After following his list of rules he would still tell me I hadn't done enough. That I could have worked out longer, and harder. He was never satisfied no matter how much effort I put into making him happy it was never enough. So in return I often felt ashamed, worthless, like a failure, a loser, a bad person and sometimes these feelings got to be too much. I began to punish my self in other ways, more insane ways then over exercising.
I started to self harm, for more information on this, you will find a link below. At the time self harm for me would be cutting. Yes, I cut myself on purpose. I would feel like I had made Ed happy by punishing myself after feeling the pain and once I saw the blood I felt a sense of release. When there was not a razor blade in my reach I would self harm by burning myself with a cigarette. This of course was not an option before I started smoking. It seems so crazy to me now, that this thought passed my mind. With cutting I had heard of it, seen the marks on other people, and was convinced it must be working if they are doing it. One night deep, deep, in my disease...to be more specific, the night before I went into residential treatment. I was sitting outside in the backyard at my friends house. I could not sleep that night because of how terrified I was at what was to come the next day. I had to eat the few days I was with her so of course I felt ashamed, like I had failed, and that I couldn't even be good at having an eating disorder ( I was convinced at the time that I did not have a disease and that I chose this lifestyle, and that I couldn't unchoose it). So with all this in mind I was sitting outside chain smoking, having really strong urges to self harm. This time it was not for punishment, no this time was because I felt dead and numb. I literally felt like although I was alive I was not living, that I had entered a hell here on earth and Ed was satan. So in attempt to convince myself I was still alive and that I had not yet died. I needed to self harm to feel pain so I would know I was not dead. With cigarette in hand I begin to burn my arm. After doing so I felt a sense of relief...It hurt really bad, I felt like I could breathe if only for those few minutes. Once at treatment I saw the many scars on other girls that had burned themselves with cigarettes...I felt it was the norm. Don't get me wrong not everyone living with Ed self harms. One night while in treatment, I was crying to one of my favorite nurses...we will just call her Angel. :) She seriously provided me with so much hope, and peace that I knew God was using her for me. As I cried to her explaining that I was so ashamed of the scars from the burns and didn't know what I was thinking when I did it. She gave me a different perspective. Her knowing I had faith in God, she told me, "you know what, you shoudn't be emabarrassed because one day these scars will be a testimony of how you survived and God is going to use these scars for his glory." She continued saying, "when people ask you what they are from you will have the opportunity to share your testimony, beause you never know who God might send your way.", she added "in everything, we have to give glory to God, let these scars be used for God's glory". I'll never forget how much her words that night meant to me. How God used her to give me peace and hope that one day I would be able to look back and see how I recovered from my disease. Now when I see my scars I thank God for the opportunity I have to use them for his Glory and I thank him from saving me. My scars also remind me everyday how vicious and relentless Ed is and how a many times he tried to take my life and inflict pain on me.
Another form of punishment from Ed was isolation. If he felt I was too grotesque to go in public, too fat, too ugly, then I'd quietly hide in my room until he decided it was ok for me to face the public. This life I was living led to a life of depression. While isolating I would often not shower because the mere thought of seeing myself naked was terrifying. I missed many invitations to hang out with friends or go to parties because Ed did not find me suitable for the public eye and I definitely could not risk having to eat in front of people. Another thing to add to my list of acts of insanity would be lieing....over and over again. Going against all my beliefs to the benefit of Ed. I would manipulate people I loved just to get by and hide my eating disorder.
This my friends is pure insanity and yet at the time I had no idea. I was so wrapped up in trying to please Ed and trying to achieve my only dream and goal to be thin that I did not feel any of this was insane, just necessary.
I hope that after reading this you have a better understanding at what all comes with this mental illness, that it is in fact NOT a choice, but a disease that millions of women and even men are suffering with.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this post. I hope it inspires, educates,and provides hope for those still suffering.
http://kidshealth.org/teen/your_mind/mental_health/cutting.html
One of the questions in my workbook for step 2 is the following:
What were some things you did that felt insane to you or others while you were deep in your disease?
Oh, this list could go on and on. For my viewers to better educate you and really give you insight on the depths of this disease, I am going to go deep. I am going to go really deep, deep down into my dark secrets in my struggle with bulimia. So deep that sharing this could possibly ruin my reputation with a lot of people, make me seem literally insane, stupid, weird, or crazy. Yet at the same time sharing this will better educate people on eating disorders and everything that co-exist with them. So I have made the choice to risk my reputation with many in attempt to save others. After all one of my favorite quotes from the famous Dr. Seuss - "Those who mind don't matter and those that matter don't mind."
My goal for my viewers is that either you gain some insight, and are better educated and to those suffering I want to let you know, you are NOT alone and recovery IS possible. To all the women and men suffering from this grotesque illness my hope is that you find this blog and that it inspires you to seek recovery not only to save yourself, but to experience the freedom you will gain with recovery.
At the time I did not feel my acts were insane, but necessary. I am going to be referring to my Eating Disorder as ED. I like to imagine it as a person, it better helps me to distinguish myself from the disease. To some, referring to my eating disorder as a person might seem silly. If this is you then while reading, just replace Ed with eating disorder. I like to capture the thoughts that have haunted my mind during my disease as a dialogue between Ed and I. So you will hear me say things like Ed told me, Ed showed me, Ed had me convinced. Of course I do not want to make this seem humorous because the last thing this disease is, is funny. In an attempt to help you grasp the idea of having these thoughts dictate my every move, and every decision I think it helps to refer to him as an insensitive dictator in my life at the time. I am not fully recovered and Ed still talks to me on a daily basis, but because now, for the most part I can distinguish my eating disorder thoughts from my own it helps me to fight Ed rather than surrender to his ways.
With being bulimic comes many secrets and actions that are appalling and shameful. So shameful that the victim starts to be ashamed of who they are, even though most people around them do not know these dark secrets, the victim is so convinced they ought to be ashamed of themselves. A lot of times many victims do not know they have an illness. Most suffers develop the disease at a young age and live with it so long they just assume it is who they are. This was me, living in shame and imprisoned in my own mind.
A person suffering from bulimia will binge and purge. Binging is when a large amount of food is consumed in a short period of time. Every suffer has their own definition of a binge. For some it might be eating a little too much at a meal, for others it may be having a lot of a forbidden food (more on forbidden foods later), and for others a binge consist of eating the amount of many meals at one time. This behavior is impulsive and most of the time a sufferer finds themselves going through a ton of food in a trance state of mind. No they are not in a trance per say, but once they finally stop eating they are in shock of how much they ate. Most experience a lack of control, feeling as if they have no control over how much they eat. After a binge a sufferer will feel guilty, and ashamed. People suffering from bulimia will then purge. There are a variety of ways used to purge, some use self induced vomiting, others use laxatives and diarectics, some will fast the next few days and others will compulsively exercise to burn off all the calories consumed. No matter what method of purging a sufferer chooses they are all harmful to ones health.
So here's my experience of binging and purging. Ed wanted me to restrict most of the time, restricting was the act of restricting a variety of foods from my diet EX; junk food, food high in fat, carbs, sugar or whatever Ed declares bad food. Another form of restricting was to restrict my calorie intake to way below the healthy amount. For me Ed liked to change things up, for one week I'd only be allowed to have 500 calories a day and other times I was only allowed to eat "safe foods" in my case Ed declared fruits and veggies safe, oh but not bananas they had too much sugar, and not potatoes...too many carbs. So I would go about my day as Ed would have it restricting my food intake. I would constantly be hungry, but Ed assured me that being hungry was good, that I was doing it right. Not eating made me irritable and I would snap at mostly anyone at anytime. Ed assured me that this would only last a little while until I got use to not eating. I had an extreme lack of energy and would constantly be tired, but Ed of course yelled at me and told me I was lazy and that I needed to do more because I was a fat cow. He constantly yelled in my ear, "you're so lazy", "so what you worked a double shift today, you better go to the gym", "what's that your exhausted? Who cares you lazy fat pig. get yourself to the gym or you will probably see an extra pound on the scale tomorrow". For me gaining a pound was one of my worst fears. I would wake up in the morning terrified to weigh because what if when I weighed myself and had gained a pound? Ed would be very angry and yell viciously in my ear. These were the thoughts that haunted my mind and for years I had no idea it was Ed speaking to me, I just assumed this was the way it was.
So like many bulimics restricting calories led to binging and binging led to purging. On one hand Ed was telling me, "Don't eat, don't eat, don't eat" and then on the other he would tell me, "well if you really must eat then you might as well eat as much as you want and then just get rid of it". See this is where things got confusing you would think knowing that I was going to throw everything up I wouldn't feel guilty or like I had failed, but boy are you wrong. As soon as I finished a binge I felt an extreme amount of guilt, shame, and worthlessness. How could I not refuse food? Ed has told me over and over again that it will make me fat and yet I dive in head first and eat more than I could ever imagine. So of course at this point Ed is yelling in my ear, "you're going to purge that aren't you?", "you have to get that out, now!". Then an over whelming feeling of anxiety takes place leaving me to panic and find the nearest place to puke my guts up. If for some reason I was not able to purge I would feel so guilty and ashamed, like my world was going to end for all the calories I just consumed. I literally felt so depressed an angry with myself that I would go to extreme measures to make myself feel better.
This is where things get ugly. For the most part I would always find a way to purge, I would go to extreme measures and do whatever I had to, to get rid of the calories I consumed and quickly too, for with every minute they were in my stomach I was getting fatter. At first it was as easy as going to the bathroom and "pretending" to shower, wash my face, shave my legs, anything to get the water running to mask the noise of me puking my guts up. This was also a very stressful act. Struggling with bulimia is very stressful and exhausting. All the lies and schemes to get what I needed which was usually access to purging. After carefully locking the door and starting the running water I would get down on my knees and violently make myself vomit. Warning: this gets ugly. I get so sick of the media trying to display eating disorders on television trying to spread awareness of the disease only to leave girls thinking it's an easy way to lose weight. After all they would never share with you what I'm about to share. Self induced vomiting was not a simple act of sticking my finger down my throat. It was painful, tedious, and violent. My back would convulse and my jaw would open extremely wide to the point of hurting...my eyes watered, my nose ran, and my face would turn red...sometimes even around my eyes I would get pink dots that would stay for a good few hours. This was not just throwing up once...no everything does not come out after one time, so I would repeatedly do this until Ed decided all the calories were out. So no, puking my guts up was not my idea of a good time, but it was necessary. No matter how painful it was, no matter how much damage it provoked on my body it was necessary. The pain was necessary, the cuts on my knuckles were necessary, the soreness in my jaw, the bruises on knees from kneeling over the toilet multiple times a day...it was all necessary.
Gross enough? Wait it gets worse. Once my family found out about my "secret" I had to be even more cunning and manipulative. At first I was terrified and a mess of anxiety and stress...how was I going to purge? But very soon Ed introduced me to my other options. My other options were puking in a bag in my room and hiding it in a shoe box until I could sneak downstairs and toss it in the outside trash...oh and I also not only had to throw it away, I had to make sure I hid it under the rest of the trash to keep anyone from seeing a bag full of vomit. When I was not at home Ed convinced me, why only limit my purging to my room? I couldn't just run home any time I ate too much at a restaurant, or when I ate too much at a get together and what about if I binged on my way to somewhere like school, work, or any other places I needed to go throughout my day. So I began puking in public bathrooms, in bags in my car, in church bathrooms, work bathrooms, school bathrooms, any place that would possibly work. I got so desperate that many times I contemplated walking to a woodsy place and just puking right there in the woods. I never reached that point thank God, although it wouldn't be any worse than all the other places I was puking. You are probably wondering at this point why I was binging and purging so much, well it becomes an addiction. Just like an alcoholic who cannot limit the amount of alcohol they drink, I could not limit the amount of times I binged and purged throughout the day. I was on average binging and purging 5 to 6 times a day. Some nights I would stay up all night long binging and purging over and over again until finally I passed out from exhaustion.
Another act of insanity was trying to fund my addiction. Binging gets pretty expensive. Three meals later from a drive through would be about $20 less in my pocket. A trip to the grocery store to buy binge food would easily put me out $50. So as time progressed and I got more desperate, I began to steal money from my parents to buy binge food. Now I never actually took money out of my moms purse, no I did it in a less conspicuous way...eating disorders are manipulative, deceitful, and scheming. I would ask my mom if I could go pick up something to eat and go to a fast food restaurant and order too much, and binge in my car and then retreat to my room to purge.
For a more detailed look of what a binge would be for me here's one of my worst. I woke up early one morning starving most likely because I did not eat the day before or I puked my guts up late that night. I decided to go get breakfast and on my way there Ed had convinced me to just make it a binge. Why not? Everyone was asleep, you've never binged on breakfast foods, this should be fun. Well it was more humiliating then anything. My first stop was Taco cabana where I ordered 4 breakfast tacos, next was shipely's where I ordered 1/2 a dozen donuts and then I stopped at McDonald's to pick up one more breakfast item to add to my list. With all my necessities for this binge I parked in the back of a Walgreens parking lot and begin to stuff my face. I ate so fast...I barely had time to taste anything and I became so overly full to the point of being sick without trying that I could not finish the rest of the donuts. I threw the trash away in an outside trashcan and then walked into walgreens, went straight to the restroom and puked my guts up. The whole time I felt like every one in the store knew I had just binged and knew I was going to the bathroom to purge. While in the restroom I was terrified someone would come in and hear me puking my guts up. Someone did come in and I jumped up quickly and sat on the toilet until they left and then continued with my puking.
Another act of insanity for me was hiding food in my room. Who the hell hides food in their room? Well the answer to that question is me and most of the people suffering from bulimia. After my family found out about my pattern they were wise to keep an eye out for signs of me eating too much. Unfortunately, I was tricky enough to pull the wool over their eyes and continue fueling my eating disorder. I would go to the grocery store late at night and stock up on binge food and carefully hide them in my closet or under my bed. That way they were accessible any time I felt the urge to binge and easy enough because I was already in my room where I would end up purging anyways.
I'm sure by now you are wondering if this is what I did all the time why am I not emaciated? Well the truth is majority of bulimics are a normal weight or over weight. There are many times when I was not able to purge and after starving my body, any time it did receive food it would clench onto it and hold it, for it never knew when I would feed it again. Binging and purging takes a huge toll on your body and messes a lot of stuff up. For awhile throughout the years of my eating disorder I would end up "getting better", not acting on behaviors such as binging and purging, yet still having that voice in my head. So when Ed got really loud I'd slip right back into the cycle of starving, binging, and purging. I am in no way trying to justify my weight because the truth is how much a person weighs does not have anything to do with whether or not they have an eating disorder. Anyone, anywhere may be struggling from an eating disorder and you not even know it. The media portrays being anorexic and bulimic as being emaciated...well that is not always the case.
This next one might seem more insane then all the rest. I would have complete meltdowns if I could not purge. I couldn't stand to have food sitting in my stomach this was not just when I binged. It got to the point where I was throwing up everything I ate, even salads. Ed had me convinced that if I was going to purge why not just purge everything. I was so sick at the time that I felt an extreme amount of guilt if I had food in my stomach. At times where I found myself in a sticky situation and could not purge I would have massive panic attacks. I would hypervenitilate, cry, and ultimately punish myself. Feeling full was not just uncomfotable physically it was extremely overwhelming mentally. Ed would torment me to no end when I had food in my stomach. He would say things like, "what are you going to do?", "Are you really going to sit there with food in your stomach?" "You know you are gaining weight right now, right?" "Ovbliously you don't care to be thin do you?", "I don't think you are even trying.", "Well you can expect to see another pound on the scale tomorrow.", "well that's what you get for eating and not being able to purge.". These were the thoughts that tormented me day and night. Awful, awful thoughts that I believed. I believed every word Ed was telling me. I was his victim of abuse and abuse me he did.
His abuse did not stop at tormenting my mind or causing me so much pain in my body from constantly purging he also added a little more pain. Any time I felt I had failed, any time I was angry with myself, or when I felt worthless, I felt the need to punish myself. I did so by compulsively exercising. I would set out to go to the gym on a mission. I deserved to work myself to the point of exhaustion. I would workout to the point of having blisters on my feet, overworked muscles, to the point of needing ice packs on numerous places on my body, needing to take pain relievers from all the aches I felt. This wasn't your typical workout of feeling the "burn", "if it burns it's working" and the typical pain of being sore after a good workout, no this was different. It was me going to the gym with a list of rules Ed made me follow. Here's an example, Ed would tell me, "tonight you have to do an hour on the treadmill oh and make sure you make your fat self run a little, that's the least you could do after having all that ranch dressing on your salad the other day.". Once I was on the treadmill he would add more rules, "set your incline this much, run for this much, run faster, no more walking". On top of the treadmill he would order me to do an hour on the elliptical, do 500 situps and much more. After following his list of rules he would still tell me I hadn't done enough. That I could have worked out longer, and harder. He was never satisfied no matter how much effort I put into making him happy it was never enough. So in return I often felt ashamed, worthless, like a failure, a loser, a bad person and sometimes these feelings got to be too much. I began to punish my self in other ways, more insane ways then over exercising.
I started to self harm, for more information on this, you will find a link below. At the time self harm for me would be cutting. Yes, I cut myself on purpose. I would feel like I had made Ed happy by punishing myself after feeling the pain and once I saw the blood I felt a sense of release. When there was not a razor blade in my reach I would self harm by burning myself with a cigarette. This of course was not an option before I started smoking. It seems so crazy to me now, that this thought passed my mind. With cutting I had heard of it, seen the marks on other people, and was convinced it must be working if they are doing it. One night deep, deep, in my disease...to be more specific, the night before I went into residential treatment. I was sitting outside in the backyard at my friends house. I could not sleep that night because of how terrified I was at what was to come the next day. I had to eat the few days I was with her so of course I felt ashamed, like I had failed, and that I couldn't even be good at having an eating disorder ( I was convinced at the time that I did not have a disease and that I chose this lifestyle, and that I couldn't unchoose it). So with all this in mind I was sitting outside chain smoking, having really strong urges to self harm. This time it was not for punishment, no this time was because I felt dead and numb. I literally felt like although I was alive I was not living, that I had entered a hell here on earth and Ed was satan. So in attempt to convince myself I was still alive and that I had not yet died. I needed to self harm to feel pain so I would know I was not dead. With cigarette in hand I begin to burn my arm. After doing so I felt a sense of relief...It hurt really bad, I felt like I could breathe if only for those few minutes. Once at treatment I saw the many scars on other girls that had burned themselves with cigarettes...I felt it was the norm. Don't get me wrong not everyone living with Ed self harms. One night while in treatment, I was crying to one of my favorite nurses...we will just call her Angel. :) She seriously provided me with so much hope, and peace that I knew God was using her for me. As I cried to her explaining that I was so ashamed of the scars from the burns and didn't know what I was thinking when I did it. She gave me a different perspective. Her knowing I had faith in God, she told me, "you know what, you shoudn't be emabarrassed because one day these scars will be a testimony of how you survived and God is going to use these scars for his glory." She continued saying, "when people ask you what they are from you will have the opportunity to share your testimony, beause you never know who God might send your way.", she added "in everything, we have to give glory to God, let these scars be used for God's glory". I'll never forget how much her words that night meant to me. How God used her to give me peace and hope that one day I would be able to look back and see how I recovered from my disease. Now when I see my scars I thank God for the opportunity I have to use them for his Glory and I thank him from saving me. My scars also remind me everyday how vicious and relentless Ed is and how a many times he tried to take my life and inflict pain on me.
Another form of punishment from Ed was isolation. If he felt I was too grotesque to go in public, too fat, too ugly, then I'd quietly hide in my room until he decided it was ok for me to face the public. This life I was living led to a life of depression. While isolating I would often not shower because the mere thought of seeing myself naked was terrifying. I missed many invitations to hang out with friends or go to parties because Ed did not find me suitable for the public eye and I definitely could not risk having to eat in front of people. Another thing to add to my list of acts of insanity would be lieing....over and over again. Going against all my beliefs to the benefit of Ed. I would manipulate people I loved just to get by and hide my eating disorder.
This my friends is pure insanity and yet at the time I had no idea. I was so wrapped up in trying to please Ed and trying to achieve my only dream and goal to be thin that I did not feel any of this was insane, just necessary.
I hope that after reading this you have a better understanding at what all comes with this mental illness, that it is in fact NOT a choice, but a disease that millions of women and even men are suffering with.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this post. I hope it inspires, educates,and provides hope for those still suffering.
http://kidshealth.org/teen/your_mind/mental_health/cutting.html
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Step One...
I have started working on the 12 step recovery program. This is usually referred to as the alcoholism approach, but after years of addictions and diseases, its been found that the 12 steps can translate to eating disorders as well. So working the 12 steps is just another part of my recovery.
I'd like to share with you all the 12 steps.
We admitted we were powerless over our eating disorder - that our lives had become unmanageable. We finally had to admit that what we were doing wasn’t working.
Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. We began to believe that we could get better, that there was a fundamental healing power.
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God. We
decided to trust that as we let go of rigidity, we would not
fall. As we took (and continue to take) careful risks, our trust
grew -- in God, in ourselves, and in others.
Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. We
looked at why we had gotten stuck, so we would be less likely to
get stuck again. We looked at our fears and why we were afraid,
our lies and why we told them, our shame and guilt and why we had them.
(This step is the searchlight that reveals the blockages in our connection to God.)
Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. We
"told on ourselves." This established our authority as
responsible people; we began to feel like we belonged to the
human race. (This step is the bulldozer that clears the blockages
in our connection to God.)
Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. We
began to accept ourselves as we really were, and to take
responsibility for our actions. We realized we couldn’t "fix"
ourselves. We had to be patient with effort, not results. We realized
the results were up to God.
Humbly asked God to remove our shortcomings. We
asked God to help us accept our imperfect efforts. We began to focus
on what we were doing right. As we did so, the "right" things began
to increase.
Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all.
We made a list of people whom we had injured or who we thought
had injured us, accepted our part, and forgave them for their
part. Forgiveness brought us peace.
Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. After
prayer and counsel with a sponsor, we went to the people we had
injured (and fully forgiven) and admitted our fault and regret.
Our statements were simple, sincere and without blame. We
expected nothing in return. Accountability set us free.
Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it. We
listened (and continue to listen) to our conscience. When
troubled, we get honest, make amends and change our thinking or behavior. We continue to notice what we do right, and we talk about that, too.
Sought through prayer and
meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we
understood God, praying only for knowledge of God’s will for us
and the power to carry that out. We listened (and
continue to listen) to our heart. We earnestly seek to understand and do
God’s will, whatever that may be on any given day. We continue
to give ourselves credit for earnest effort, however imperfect.
Having had a spiritual awakening
as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to
others, and to practice these principles in all our affairs. Having
learned to trust at last, we share our experience strength and
hope with others, and work to live at peace with ourselves, with
God and with life.
Side Note: If you are looking for recovery or know someone looking for this I encourage you to not be discouraged to attempt the steps if you do not believe in a God. In the places where it says God simply fill that in with your higher power. You do not have to be christian or have belief in a religion to practice these steps.
Step one
Admitting I have become powerless over my relationship with food
and that my life had become unmanageable.
When I first read the title of step one my immediate response was, "oh I've already done this step so it should be easy." Well after reading step one I'd realized there was a bit more to it. Reading about how admitting I was powerless showed me A: I really hadn't fully committed to this, B: I had to dig deep down and see what was stopping me and C: coming to the conclusion that I still believed I had power over my eating disorder.
I realized I hadn't really committed to admitting I was powerless because I still thought that If I wanted I could control it and that I never really felt like I was powerless. I still have the intent to recover but still keep a few "tricks" up my sleeve. For example, part of my recovery is to follow a healthy meal plan, so I practiced this step, but still kept the mentality that I could keep a little restriction to my diet and still be following my meal plan. For instance for my breakfast I am suppose to have one fat, one protein, one carb, one fruit and one dairy. Well I decided I would have all those things but make sure I chose things that were low in calories and if I could to choose items that were safe. The problem with me doing this is that I'm still practicing my eating disorder in the act of restricting certain foods and sticking with safe foods.
Another step in my recovery is to fully commit to giving up my relationship with my eating disorder fully, I thought well I can just give up the things that hurt me ie; starving, purging, bingeing, yet I could keep my dream of being thin and that once I'd become thin I'd be happy and life would be better. I could choose to still listen to the voice that told me you have to be thin or life will not be worth living, that I had to still be in control, that I could recover but don't you dare let recovery take away your goal of being thin, that being thin was the most important thing, and if recovering meant you cant be thin then it's not worth it.
So after coming to terms that I was still powerless over ED while working on recovery meant I needed to admit I was still out of control. I have admitted that I am still powerless.
Another part of step one is to admit my life had become unmanageable. I don't think I ever admitted to this. My thoughts on this one is that my life was never really unmanageable. I still lived life and went to work, enjoyed my family, I still had all my hopes and dreams and I'd eventually start working on these things but first I had to get thin. That was the most important thing in life. Get thin and then I could move on with the rest of my life. I had never thought by keeping this mentality would keep me from living my life to the fullest. To truly enjoy the other things I had in life and to give my full attention to the other things I wanted out of life, the other things that would make me happy and give me the sense of accomplishment. So in reality my life had become unmanageable. I was letting my eating disorder be the first priority and ignoring everything else. I would deny myself offers to enjoy other things in life so that I could spend a little more time working on what I could do to get closer to my goal of being thin, what I could do to become better and stronger by restricting my food. My mind was fully consumed by my eating disorder leaving very little room for responsibilities and other goals. I had become irresponsible with my fiances so that I would have money to binge. I'd walk into a store and be haunted by what Ed was telling me what people were thinking of me. I'd isolate every time ED would tell me "you're looking pretty grotesque today, I'd stay inside if I were you, you don't want to gross people out by showing your face in public". I'd turn down offers to hang out with friends or go to certain events because ED had me convinced I was gross and not presentable to the public, that I was not worthy of enjoying other things in life. Ed had made me extremely depressed and I would let things go and give all my attention to my eating disorder. ED told me I was not worthy of anything else in life because I could not even accomplish the goal of being thin. ED told me I sucked at life and that I might as well not try to accomplish anything else if I couldn't even make him happy. ED had me convinced I was an awful person and made me feel guilty. He tugged and pulled me in every which direction and still expected me to do more, be better, stand taller, ,jump when he said jump even though he'd exhausted me to no extent. So yes, my life had become unmanageable and I was ready to get full control of my life back not by restricting, not by binging and purging but by investing my time in recovery and making it my first priority and still being able to work on my hopes and dreams. The hardest part of this step is to let go of my dream of being thin. Letting go of the belief that being thin would make everything better. I hope I can let this go soon and I will truly work on it.
Tonight I will be meeting with my sponsor to further process this step and to work step one in the 12 step workbook. I look forward to tonight and feel that taking this step has allowed me more progress in my journey to recovery.
I'd like to share with you all the 12 steps.
Side Note: If you are looking for recovery or know someone looking for this I encourage you to not be discouraged to attempt the steps if you do not believe in a God. In the places where it says God simply fill that in with your higher power. You do not have to be christian or have belief in a religion to practice these steps.
Step one
Admitting I have become powerless over my relationship with food
and that my life had become unmanageable.
When I first read the title of step one my immediate response was, "oh I've already done this step so it should be easy." Well after reading step one I'd realized there was a bit more to it. Reading about how admitting I was powerless showed me A: I really hadn't fully committed to this, B: I had to dig deep down and see what was stopping me and C: coming to the conclusion that I still believed I had power over my eating disorder.
I realized I hadn't really committed to admitting I was powerless because I still thought that If I wanted I could control it and that I never really felt like I was powerless. I still have the intent to recover but still keep a few "tricks" up my sleeve. For example, part of my recovery is to follow a healthy meal plan, so I practiced this step, but still kept the mentality that I could keep a little restriction to my diet and still be following my meal plan. For instance for my breakfast I am suppose to have one fat, one protein, one carb, one fruit and one dairy. Well I decided I would have all those things but make sure I chose things that were low in calories and if I could to choose items that were safe. The problem with me doing this is that I'm still practicing my eating disorder in the act of restricting certain foods and sticking with safe foods.
Another step in my recovery is to fully commit to giving up my relationship with my eating disorder fully, I thought well I can just give up the things that hurt me ie; starving, purging, bingeing, yet I could keep my dream of being thin and that once I'd become thin I'd be happy and life would be better. I could choose to still listen to the voice that told me you have to be thin or life will not be worth living, that I had to still be in control, that I could recover but don't you dare let recovery take away your goal of being thin, that being thin was the most important thing, and if recovering meant you cant be thin then it's not worth it.
So after coming to terms that I was still powerless over ED while working on recovery meant I needed to admit I was still out of control. I have admitted that I am still powerless.
Another part of step one is to admit my life had become unmanageable. I don't think I ever admitted to this. My thoughts on this one is that my life was never really unmanageable. I still lived life and went to work, enjoyed my family, I still had all my hopes and dreams and I'd eventually start working on these things but first I had to get thin. That was the most important thing in life. Get thin and then I could move on with the rest of my life. I had never thought by keeping this mentality would keep me from living my life to the fullest. To truly enjoy the other things I had in life and to give my full attention to the other things I wanted out of life, the other things that would make me happy and give me the sense of accomplishment. So in reality my life had become unmanageable. I was letting my eating disorder be the first priority and ignoring everything else. I would deny myself offers to enjoy other things in life so that I could spend a little more time working on what I could do to get closer to my goal of being thin, what I could do to become better and stronger by restricting my food. My mind was fully consumed by my eating disorder leaving very little room for responsibilities and other goals. I had become irresponsible with my fiances so that I would have money to binge. I'd walk into a store and be haunted by what Ed was telling me what people were thinking of me. I'd isolate every time ED would tell me "you're looking pretty grotesque today, I'd stay inside if I were you, you don't want to gross people out by showing your face in public". I'd turn down offers to hang out with friends or go to certain events because ED had me convinced I was gross and not presentable to the public, that I was not worthy of enjoying other things in life. Ed had made me extremely depressed and I would let things go and give all my attention to my eating disorder. ED told me I was not worthy of anything else in life because I could not even accomplish the goal of being thin. ED told me I sucked at life and that I might as well not try to accomplish anything else if I couldn't even make him happy. ED had me convinced I was an awful person and made me feel guilty. He tugged and pulled me in every which direction and still expected me to do more, be better, stand taller, ,jump when he said jump even though he'd exhausted me to no extent. So yes, my life had become unmanageable and I was ready to get full control of my life back not by restricting, not by binging and purging but by investing my time in recovery and making it my first priority and still being able to work on my hopes and dreams. The hardest part of this step is to let go of my dream of being thin. Letting go of the belief that being thin would make everything better. I hope I can let this go soon and I will truly work on it.
Tonight I will be meeting with my sponsor to further process this step and to work step one in the 12 step workbook. I look forward to tonight and feel that taking this step has allowed me more progress in my journey to recovery.
Coming Home...
The After Math
I arrived home on September 3rd, 2012. I was so excited to see my family and friends but terrified of the journey ahead of me. I got home late, visited with my family and a close friend and then went home and crashed. It felt so good to sleep in my own bed.
The next morning I woke up, went to the bathroom and low and behold there sat the scale. I was so angry that my parents forgot to hide it. Weighing myself is a huge trigger and I will probably never be able to weigh myself again....maybe in the far future. So I couldn't resist the temptation after not being able to know how much I weighed for a whole month. After seeing the number on the scale I went into full blown rage. I stormed down stairs and started making my breakfast. After seeing the number the last thing I wanted to do was eat, but I'd come so far I couldn't let that number dictate my life anymore. So I sat and ate my cereal in disgust.
The next thing I did was another spit of rage. I actually kind of scared my parents. I went upstairs and got the scale I then went into the garage and got a good size AXE! I took the scale into the back yard and slaughtered it, with every blow I felt empowered. It was a very emotional experience, but was necessary.
The next step was to find an outpatient program to continue my recovery. I had one already in the works and started it the next week, but after going to one day I was discouraged because the program they offered was not very beneficial to my recovery. I went home saying I was not going back. I felt very distraught having to continue my recovery without going to outpatient. I started looking for a therapist, dietician, and anonymous meetings. I did find many therapist and miraculously one of the therapist I called was the director of another outpatient program 15 minutes from where I live. I was so thrilled to have found a program. I went for an assessment and after hassling my insurance company for them to pay I finally got approved.
Before I got approved I had found a dietician. It is very important that I have a dietician that specializes in eating disorders. This dietician reassured me she did. So I went to meet her and get started. After the first meeting I was questioning whether she really was a specialist in eating disorders. She didn't offer me a very structured meal plan and gave me a goal weight...two things NOT to do. After being told of a goal weight I had to meet my eating disorder flared up and I lost sight of recovery and was obsessed with working out , eating as healthy as possible to get to this goal weight sooner than she had planned for me.
This basically put me back in my recovery. Thankfully I met with my therapist and got back on the right track. Recovery is not easy, it takes a lot of hard work, dedication, and will power. I am basically fighting between my rational "healthy mind" and my irrational "eating disorder mind" which is in fact my disease working its schemes as it would have. It's a 24 hour battle I face everyday. Blocking out my eating disorder thoughts that wander my mind endlessly and replacing them with rational substitutes. While someone without an eating disorder would think just don't think those things, just ignore those thoughts...it's not that easy. If that was the case...I wouldn't still be struggling and recovery would me easy. It's more than ignoring these thoughts. After listening and being convinced these thoughts were true for so long I am basically having to retrain my mind. It's like growing up believing something is right and then one day a bunch of people tell you it's wrong and show you the "right" way. Would you really just say, "okay, yeah you're right" and just change everything you believe? I highly doubt it. After believing these things for four years in my life it's not just a matter of ignoring thoughts. It's teaching my mind the difference between truth and lies because right now that difference is extremely blurry.
With the help of my therapist and others I will soon know the difference, it's going to take time and dedication but I believe whole heatedly it is possible.
I finally got my eating behaviors under control just to stumble upon another hill to climb in recovery. Body Image. Body image is how sufferers see their bodies. Usually people suffer from body distortion.
Body
image distortion is a brain condition where the person is unable to see
himself or herself accurately in the mirror and perceives features and
body size as distorted. The image the individual
perceives may be huge despite an actual size. The
distortion affects touch as well; sufferers may physically feel that
their arms, thighs or stomachs are many times their actual size.
Well this is absolute HELL, I'm not exaggerating. It is pure HELL. Imagine waking up every morning and feeling absolutely grotesque, looking in the mirror and despite what other people tell you, feeling huge and disgusting. Now just to clear the air, I nor do most sufferers judge the size of others, we only prey on our own bodies. Just because we feel gross and disgusting does not mean we project these judgments on others. These feelings keep me from leaving the house. I feel trapped in my mind and extremely depressed. Feeling this way about yourself is no way to live. Thankfully my therapist says its another process to recovering and that we will work on exposure therapy. Basically I will start to go in public in low-risk situations, where I feel most comfortable and work up to places I feel the most uncomfortable. Right now I'm terrified to go to restaurants, groceries stores, and the mall. I'm hoping this phase will pass soon because it's definitely having an impact with my eating behaviors. Feeling this gross is the easiest way to lose my appetite...of course ED is having a hay day with this one. But I am committed to staying strong and following my meal plan as hellish as it feels.
So this is where I'm at now.
My Recovery Story...
Warning: This is a very long story because it starts at the very beginning. I feel it's totally worth reading so that you can see exactly where I'm coming from.
Side Note: I tended to focus on the negative in life and would just like to clarify I do have a loving family who is very supportive, and I have great parents. :)
That was then, this is now.
I was born on December, 4th 1989. I was a beautiful baby girl with bright red hair. I was my moms first baby, when she was 19. I'm so grateful that she kept me. She could have given me up for adoption but, I was her baby and even though she was not ready for a child she kept me. My biological farther was not apart of my life.
My mom met my dad at the end of October. He immediately fell in love with her and me. Although my dad was so in love with my mom and I, my mom was so scarred of getting hurt because some of his family and friends were discouraging him to have a relationship with my mom because she had a kid. My mom broke up with my dad in November and broke his heart. She soon realized she couldn't fight her feelings for him anymore and they went on there first date again March 1st 1991. They married on July 12th 1991 and he has been my dad ever since.
My childhood was pretty decent. I had a brother and a sister and we were very close yet at the same time we fought a lot. My family was always very close to my parents families. We were very close to all our cousins and at first we all went to church together. Those were the good ol days. I was so happy. I remember my great grandma always told me that I loved church. I loved the music, she would say that anytime I would hear the music I'd get this huge smile on my face and clap my hands. I still love music to this day. It just does something to me. Anyways, things were good. Like any childhood there were ups and downs. My parents did their best to raise us in a loving environment and give us everything we needed. They did a pretty good job. A few key things I remembered in my childhood was that in the churches I was raised in the members, not all but most tended to make a big deal about how people looked and dressed. I took that in as how you looked had a lot to do with how you would succeed in life.
When I was in third grade I remember being a bit taller than all the other girls, I wasn't fat...just taller. One day we had to get weighed because of physicals or something and I remember being terrified of getting weighed. Our society has always focused on looks, diets, and influenced women and men that the number on the scale did determine a certain kind of success in life. So anyways all the girls in my class were lined up against the wall outside the nurses office. Every time a girl would get weighed they'd come out and be like "I weigh this much" and they would just talk about how they all weighed about the same. I was so terrified when I saw the number on the scale was much bigger than the other girls. I didn't understand why...I wasn't fat, but seeing that number made me feel like the fat kid. When I came back to the line the girls kept asking me how much I weighed and I just kept telling them I didn't want to tell. They teased me about it but finally gave it a rest. That day sticks in my head so vividly. I don't know why in third grade an innocent little girl would recognize body image issues and feel fat because of how much she weighed. That day confused me a lot.
Sense we moved a lot I was always the new kid and being shy and a new kid is not a good mix. I had friends but a lot of times I just felt out of place. I had more fun playing with my siblings and neighborhood friends then I did meeting people at school. I was a good mix of a girly girl and tom boy. I loved barbies but, I also loved climbing trees, making mud slides, playing cops and robbers etc. Although I did like playing with my brother and sister, but sometimes I'd be left out because my sister was one of the guys and would always play with my brother and his friends. I hated being left behind, I don't know why they didn't want me to play with them at times. But, I got over it. I had a best friend in fourth grade through sixth grade and I remember always feeling inferior to her. She had always played sports, was really pretty and trendy and the guys always liked her. Since I grew up not knowing anything about make up and stuff I just looked ridiculous next to her. I would let her do my make up and I felt pretty at times. She was really outgoing and I was the shy one. We had a lot of fun together.
Another thing I remember, in fifth grade I felt bigger than all the other girls. I also felt like my clothes were ugly and that I was ugly. I don't know why I felt this way but I did. I didn't really have friends in fifth grade I don't know why. I remember one day this heavier kid that everyone made fun of asked me to be his lunch pal one day. I felt bad for him so of course I said yes. I was so embarrassed sitting with him though and I felt that I must be ugly sense the he was talking to me. The few friends I had picked on me for sitting with him and said I liked him etc. I was so humiliated. But, at the same time he was really a nice kid and I felt bad for him. I felt like a bad person for not wanting to be his friend because of what others thought of me.
Another thing that happened in fifth grade was my music teacher noticed that I had a good voice and gave me a solo in the school musical. I was so ecstatic that someone thought my voice was good...especially a music teacher. At this time in my life I believed I was going to be famous one day for my singing. I so strongly believed that I was meant to sing and that I would be a pop star and be rich and famous and my life would be so awesome. I just felt so destined to be a singer. I always loved singing and I would sing all the time day and night. I tried so hard and when I sang I felt like I was on top of the world. That dream eventually faded once I grew up and became a pessimist. Still to this day I love singing and it makes me so happy and takes me out of this world when I sing, but I now know I don't want a career out of it.
Sixth grade went a lot better for me, I joined the cheer leading team and I loved it. I had a good circle of friends and made decent grades. I was so happy. Yet for some reason I still felt bigger than all the other girls. I don't know why I felt this way I wasn't fat. I just didn't see that then. I remember that summer I went swimsuit shopping and my aunt and mom were saying I should get a bikini...I was like no, no, I can't wear a bikini I'm not thin enough. They persisted and looked at me like I was crazy. They eventually got me to try one on and I felt really uncomfortable but they kept going on and on of how good I looked so I thought well I guess I don't look bad and the bikini was so cute. It was neon pink with orange and white flowers, had the shorts bottom and a triangle top. So I wore it to the public pool and that day I wanted to hide under a rock. I felt so fat and thought everyone was thinking why is she wearing that she is too fat. I hid under the water most the time and after that I never wore that two piece again. I remember the worst move of my life was when my parents decided to buy a house 45 min away in the country...yuck! I was sooo upset about moving I was having the time of my life and now I had to move and be the new kid all over again. We moved that summer and I had no friends and no way to make any as school was out. I stayed at home all day and was bored out of my mind. I started snacking a lot. I always loved food....which sucked for me in the long end. I would just mindlessly eat because I was so bored.
I gained a little weight that summer, I went from a size 3 to a size 5/7. I thought I was so gross and fat...but sense I was so tall I still looked thin. I just couldn't see that. I remember going shopping for 7th grade, I got a ton of cute jeans and tops and everything looked really good on me, but I still felt fat. I don't understand why I always felt that way. I got picked on a lot from the girls in 7th grade I never realized why until later. I think it was because they were jealous of me. A lot of the guys at school liked me but I was so clueless and naive when it came to boys I barely noticed. I wanted so badly to try out for the cheer leading team or basket ball but I felt so inadequate because I'd never played sports growing up. I was too scared of failing, that I'd rather not try.
The older I got the worse things got. Unfortunately my family went through a lot of finacial distress and for some reason I would always internal that stress. When I was in 7th grade I hated school, I would come home and cry to my mom that I had no friends and that I got picked on and I'd be so bored and lonely at home. Then my science teacher got a snake and I've always been terrified of snakes so I refused to go in the classroom. Everyone made fun of me, even my teacher ridiculed me for being afraid. I went through hell trying to just switch science classes. My counselor for some reason kept saying she couldn't move me and that maybe they could put a poster in front of the cage so I wouldn't see it. I tried that but I couldn't even focus in class because I knew the snake was right behind that poster and just knowing it was in there terrified me. I'd have to leave class a lot because I would go in the bathroom and cry because I was so afraid. Soon my science class moved to another building and they finally switched my class. When I walked in the class my new science teacher ridiculed me and said it was ridiculous that I had to switch classes because I was afraid of a snake that was in a cage and couldn't even hurt me. I was very sensitive and just burst into tears. I was so upset that no one understood my fear and thought I was stupid and foolish. I was even more embarrassed. I wished so badly that I would not be afraid at the time I felt like my fear was ruining my life. The teacher took me outside the class and apologized saying she didn't realize how bad my fear was and she was sorry for making me feel that way. That day when I went home and told my mom what happened my mom was so upset she decided to pull me out of school and home school me. The thing is I never really got homeschooled.
We moved to another city closer to my grandparents. Thank God we were back in the city. I started eight grade and I had gained even more weight and was a size 11/13 now. So by this time I was actually a little chunky. So school was awful. I felt so ugly and like such an outcast because I had to wear skirts and no makeup while all the other girls rocked their jeans and abercrombie shirts with eyeliner and cute hair styles while my hair was in a ponytail everyday. I was so self conscious about my size that I wore an over sized hoodie over all my clothes to hide my fat. I only had one friend at school...we became best friends and have been friends ever since. But I was really depressed in school. That year I saw a girl in my math class raise her sleeve of her hoodie and saw all the horrifying cuts on her arms. I thought that was scary and was confused but then I realized people cut to feel better so I thought well if it works for her then maybe I should try it. So that's when I started cutting. It got bad really quickly and it was way too hard to hide. One day I cut myself so deep because I was so angry that it scared me and I stopped cutting. My siblings made fun of me and my mom never acknowledge it. That made me feel like she didn't care. I mean her daughter was freaking slicing her skin open and she just ignored it. But now I know it was because she just didn't understand and probably hoped it was just a phase.
That year my baby brother was born...I was 14 at the time. We all immediately loved him even though my siblings and I did not want another sibling. We moved again that summer. I started high school and had all these plans to make A's and B's and be involved in things. I started dance my freshman year and was determined to try out for the drill team. But..shortly after I realized one I looked awful in a leo and two I sucked at dancing. I probably could have done it if I tried harder but for some reason I just never tried hard enough. So that dream went down the gutter especially once I found out how expensive it was to be on the drill team my parents could never afford it. I was very depressed that year. I really didn't have any friends because I was so shy and felt fat and ugly, so I thought nobody would want to be friends with the fat girl. I stayed up all night playing video games and writing depressing poems...I remember some nights I'd blare Hawthorne Heights and just cry in my bed and scream the lyrics in angst. I missed so much school. Especially when my mom started working I'd miss the bus on purpose all the time. I'd stay up all night and sleep all day. When I did go to school I'd just talk to my friends the whole time and never really try. I wasn't stupid I just was unmotivated. I remember I loved English and joined a poetry club which I loved but...shortly got out of it, I can't remember why. I even got one of my poems published in the school paper. I remember wanting to try out for the school musicals but then I found out that it was $200 just to be in it and then you had to pay for your costume and make up kit and when I told my mom that she was like no way. I don't have that kind of money so that dream went down the drain. Oh, I also loved Spanish class. I was really good and caught on fast and had an A in that class. It felt so good to have an A. I felt like I was worth something in life. Later on my depression got worse and I started feeling suicidal. I wrote my mom a long email and explained to her why I thought I was depressed and that I should go to a doctor and get medicine or something. She never responded and when I brought it up she just brushed it off. I never understood why she did that. Of course in high school part of the reason I was unhappy was because my weight. I started to not eat all day at school and then when I'd get home I'd binge on everything. I didn't realize what I was doing at the time.
So we moved again and my mom and I decided it would be best to home school me sense I was so behind in school. I was in ISS pretty much every week for skipping class and had Saturday detention a lot. I always had detention and was called into the principles office all the time just for being late and not showing up for class. Being homeschooled was not the best idea for me, my mom had good intentions but I guess we both just did not anticipate all the work that came with it. I started working and I don't know why I didn't just go back to school and graduate a year late or something. Worst decision I've ever made in my life. I will always regret not finishing high school but I've come a long way from there. I started working when I was 15 and got my GED right before I turned 18. From age 15 to about 20 life was hell. Finances with my parents were awful and I went through hell getting to and from work. I fought with my mom constantly because of this. I never was able to save for a car because once I started working my parents stopped paying for everything. I had awful teeth because of my genes. So once I started working I started paying for all my dental work which was ridiculously expensive. My parents paid for house and food of course but everything else I paid for. I was also awful with my finances and became a shopaholic and so yea never could save money. Once I started saving for a car I had hope that my life would get better. I was proud of myself for finally having some self control. Once I got my car life was soooo much better. I was so happy. Then my car ended up being a lemon and I had no idea how to take care of a car and I never got an oil change because I just kept putting it off. So basically my engine blew up and my car got repoed and then the hell of being taken to work again started. I worked one full time job and a part time job. I've always loved working. I loved making my own money. I felt so accomplished having such a good work ethic and being responsible. All my employers complimented me on how great I was. It felt really good. Eventually the hell I was going through at home got to be too much and my parents kicked me out...I still don't know why. I moved in with my grandparents and aunt. I was so happy. No stress and my aunt never complained about car pooling with me to work. This happened a few times, my mom and I would get in a fight and then they'd kick me out for the most obscene reasons.
(Please read the next bit with caution, I highly, highly discourage pro ana sites, curiosity killed the cat. Please just trust me and stay away from these sites.)
When I was 18, I heard of pro ana websites. Pretty much the worst thing to happen to me in my life. I googled them and became so infatuated with this idea that I could "become anorexic". It's appalling, I know but, at the time I had no idea what all an eating disorder entailed. I just thought It would be a great way to lose weight and become the happy girl I always had dreamed of. So I spent hours at a time reading all these tips etc on "how to become anorexic", I thought hey I can do this. Lose a ton of weight fast and then just start eating again. I was sooo dumb, second biggest mistake in my life. I started right away, I didn't eat for 3 days straight and then one morning I ate a brownie and felt so guilty that I threw it up. I didn't wanna be bulimic...but after that first time It just spiraled out of control. I would write in my journal all these awful, awful, things about myself. Like, "your a disgusting pig", "your so fat, no one will ever love you", you don't deserve to live because your so repulsive", "your so ugly and fat, you can't even refuse food", "your such a failure for eating", etc. It didn't take very long for me to start to believing all those awful things. I started purging 5 to 6 times a day. I wouldn't eat anything without throwing up. I started losing weight pretty fast and thought I was on top of the world. Life was great, people always commented on how good I looked and asked me how I did it. I would simply just say, "oh I watch what I eat and walk for an hour everyday.". I did walk for an hour every single night. I would never feel like it was good enough. Sometimes I'd walk for 2 hours. I'd beat myself up every time I ate and would have nightmares about eating. I was so angry all the time and snapped at everyone. I would go to work and be in so much pain from vomiting my guts up the night before. I'd be so tired and exhausted, I'd come home and sleep all day after work and then stayed up binging and purging all night. It was an awful time. About a year later my family discovered my secret. Soon after that I went to church and was delivered. I stopped purging and tried to eat like a normal person. I did pretty good but slowly started gaining weight. I had a boyfriend and was happy and thought I was fine. But, soon after I just started gaining more weight. This went on for a few years. I'd try to diet but every time I did, it would just turn into me being bulimic again.
I finally snapped one day after weighing myself and seeing how big I was. I stopped eating and started purging again. I lost weight but did not want to keep living that way. I worked 11 hour days with kids and started binge eating. I didn't realize at the time that I was binge eating and I gained even more weight.
I didn't realize at the time that I was working myself to death. I worked 11 hour days and would go to school at night...stayed up half the night with my boyfriend at the time. Then get up at 5:30am and do it all over again. I also got a part time job that summer and was working 11 hour days plus and extra 25 on nights and weekends. I was spending all my money faster than it came in. Binge eating is extremely expensive by the way. A binge consist of eating an excessive amount of food in a very short period of time. When a person binges there is a loss of control, many people report that they are in another world, not present at the time. I got credit cards and maxed them out fairly quickly. I loved my job and I thought my life was great. I made great money and loved working....then I started getting extremely stressed because of my bills and then my car started acting up. My ex and I broke up and life got weird. I spent so much time with him I wasn't sure how to be single. I was just trying to stay busy but, I didn't realize at the time how sad I was. I wasn't sad because I was single though. I was happy to not be with him anymore. I just felt so lost in the world. I ignored all the signs. I just worked, worked, worked. I started to get so stressed out about bills it almost drove me insane. I started binging and purging more. I started looking for attention from guys from online dating sights. It never ended up good. They all just wanted sex and I don't know what I was thinking. I was so unhappy with the way I looked and I felt so gross and just disgusted. I thought maybe if guys liked me it would make me feel better about myself. I did a lot of stupid things the past two years. I regret a lot. I've watched my life spiral out of control right before my eyes. I was constantly tortured in my mind. Imagine the worst nightmare you have every had...I was living it. Waking up in the morning being terrified of getting up because I HAD to weigh myself and what if I gained weight. The numbers on the scale determined how my day would be. No matter how much I lost, it was never enough. I was constantly hearing awful things in my head. I'll give you some examples to explain how dreadful living with this illness is. I heard "your fat and ugly, no one will ever love you", "people will never believe you have an eating disorder because your fat, so you better not ask for help", "you know what people think of you don't you?", "they see you and think youre fat, ugly, a failure, how could you show your face in public", "everyone knows you eat too much, that you have no control, that you eat a ton and are too lazy to even workout". I'd go to the gym and kill myself and then the voice in my head was never satisfied, It would say, "you can do more", "youre so lazy", "do you really think that's enough to make you look better", "your so weak", "a little pain and youre ready to give up", "everyone can see youre not trying hard enough". I'd go into stores and think people were thinking, "why is she going to try that on she will look disgusting in that", "why is she shopping in this section, she can't possibly fit in these clothes". So then I'd head to the plus size section to feel more comfortable while shopping, at least I was where I belonged. Don't even get me started on going to the grocery store...maybe one of the scariest places. I heard things like "is she really buying food", "doesnt she know she deserves to starve", "does she have enough food in her basket", "is she really buying that stuff", "you should be embarrassed that you are buying food", "everyone is judging you for your fat ass", "a fat girl buying food, you should be ashamed".
These are the thoughts that tortured my mind every single day. Imagine living in a world where you felt all these things were true. Imagine looking in the mirror and starting to cry because what was looking back at you was too ugly to bare. Imagine trying on clothes and sitting in the dressing room crying because you looked so gross in everything you tried on. Imagine a world where you were your worst enemy and there was no way out. I thought, If only I could be thin then everything would be alright. This torture would cease and I'd finally be happy.
I finally realized I needed help and started looking for a therapist and psychiatrist. I made an appointment with a pyschiatrist and got put on and anti deppressant, xanax, and I tricked my way into getting vyvance, which is for add. I don't have ADD, I just got it to lose weight. It worked, I didn't eat anything for two weeks straight. I was going through mania and had extreme energy all day long and then come home and crash. My parents got worried because they saw a change in my mood. I was like a zombie when I got home every night and would be so grouchy from not eating. Two weeks later I had my first appoinment with a therapist that specializes in eating disorders. June 26th, I'll never forget that day. My life turned upside down. I went in, thinking this was it, I was finally going to get help...boy was I wrong. As soon as I sat down my eating disorder started attacking me. I felt like voices were literally screaming in my head, "why are you doing this, you need to lose weight first", "your so fat, no one will ever believe you are bulimic", "this lady is going to think youre a joke, she's going to think you just want attention", "don't you want to be thin, what are you doing", "if you get better you will never be thin", "your so fat, your embarrassing yourself", "you can't even be good at having an eating disorder", "you throw up and your still fat". All these awful thoughts filled my head and I was so distraught, I was literally being tortured. She suggested I go to an Over eaters Anonymous meetings and that just confirmed to me that she thought I was fat and did not throw up. I drove home sobbing and had no idea what was going on. I was so confused and overwhelmed by all these feelings I had. I didn't know what to do. I literally felt like I was losing my mind. The world turned gray in an instant. I felt like I was in a fog, so thick I couldn't see anything but the pain I felt.
I went home and took a nap around 4:30...woke up around 8:20 and as soon as I opened my eyes I thought I should kill myself. So long story short I overdosed and tried to slit my wrist. Luckily my parents found me fast and I was headed to the hospital an hour later. I drank charcol and stayed over night. All was fine and then they transferred me to a psychiatric hospital, where I stayed for 7 days. It was a really strange experience, I could'nt believe this is what my life had come to. I literally had gone crazy. When I got home on July 3rd, my family surprised me with a room makeover. It was so beautiful and I felt so loved. July 5th, I went to my psychiatrist and explained what happpened. She was very concerned and suggested residential care. From that moment on, I lost myself. I was terrified to go to residential care...I was way to fat to go to an eating disorder rehab. All the awful thoughts drowned my head and I was sinking quickly with despair. For a week I purged 5 times a day and then I just completely stopped eating. I self medicated with xanax and my sleeping meds so that I could escape this nightmare. I lived on coffee and tea. I was so proud of myself for not eating and I wished so badly that I could not go to treatment until I lost a ton of weight. But all too soon I arrived at Timberline Knolls ( a residential treatment facility for eating disorders, addictions, and PTSD) on August first. My nightmare had come true, as soon as I walked in the door I saw a really thin girl and my heart dropped. I was so embarrassed to be there because I was there for bulimia and was so fat, I thought no one would believe me. The first two weeks were hell. I didn't realize how bad a problem I had until they took it away from me. Not being able to purge was killing me. I seriously was going crazy. But then eventually my eyes opened and I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. God finally interfered through the darkness and showed me the light. I started to give recovery my all and progressed fairly fast. I made a ton of amazing friends and my stay at Timberline knolls changed my life tremedously. Although there were times I wanted to hurt everyone...there were more times I prospered and saw true joy in life.
I have continued my recovery at home and I am proud to say as of current I have not purged now for 2 months. It's hard as hell and sometimes and I feel like I'm losing my mind all over again but, I stay strong and keep fighting. I don't want to go back to that dark place...ok honestly sometimes I do, but that's my irrational mind talking. I have found an eating disorders anonymous meeting 45 min away from me and have been going to it. I am also going to Over eaters Anonymous meetings as well as AA. I am not an over eater and nor am I an alcoholic but they both practice the same 12 steps. I've had my issues with alcohol so I think it is important for me to participate to keep myself sober. I now have a sponsor, who is amazing by the way. I have started to work the 12 steps and after a year in recovery I plan to start an EDA meeting where I live. There is not enough EDA meetings and they are so beneficial to recovery. I plan to give back all that I have learned. Recovery is possible for everyone and everyone should have a chance to recover. I also plan to one day start a scholarship program for girls that are not able to afford residential treatment. I also want to become part of the National Eating Disorder Association to further my attempts in making a difference.
I am so excited to see where my recovery will take me.
Side Note: I tended to focus on the negative in life and would just like to clarify I do have a loving family who is very supportive, and I have great parents. :)
That was then, this is now.
I was born on December, 4th 1989. I was a beautiful baby girl with bright red hair. I was my moms first baby, when she was 19. I'm so grateful that she kept me. She could have given me up for adoption but, I was her baby and even though she was not ready for a child she kept me. My biological farther was not apart of my life.
My mom met my dad at the end of October. He immediately fell in love with her and me. Although my dad was so in love with my mom and I, my mom was so scarred of getting hurt because some of his family and friends were discouraging him to have a relationship with my mom because she had a kid. My mom broke up with my dad in November and broke his heart. She soon realized she couldn't fight her feelings for him anymore and they went on there first date again March 1st 1991. They married on July 12th 1991 and he has been my dad ever since.
My childhood was pretty decent. I had a brother and a sister and we were very close yet at the same time we fought a lot. My family was always very close to my parents families. We were very close to all our cousins and at first we all went to church together. Those were the good ol days. I was so happy. I remember my great grandma always told me that I loved church. I loved the music, she would say that anytime I would hear the music I'd get this huge smile on my face and clap my hands. I still love music to this day. It just does something to me. Anyways, things were good. Like any childhood there were ups and downs. My parents did their best to raise us in a loving environment and give us everything we needed. They did a pretty good job. A few key things I remembered in my childhood was that in the churches I was raised in the members, not all but most tended to make a big deal about how people looked and dressed. I took that in as how you looked had a lot to do with how you would succeed in life.
When I was in third grade I remember being a bit taller than all the other girls, I wasn't fat...just taller. One day we had to get weighed because of physicals or something and I remember being terrified of getting weighed. Our society has always focused on looks, diets, and influenced women and men that the number on the scale did determine a certain kind of success in life. So anyways all the girls in my class were lined up against the wall outside the nurses office. Every time a girl would get weighed they'd come out and be like "I weigh this much" and they would just talk about how they all weighed about the same. I was so terrified when I saw the number on the scale was much bigger than the other girls. I didn't understand why...I wasn't fat, but seeing that number made me feel like the fat kid. When I came back to the line the girls kept asking me how much I weighed and I just kept telling them I didn't want to tell. They teased me about it but finally gave it a rest. That day sticks in my head so vividly. I don't know why in third grade an innocent little girl would recognize body image issues and feel fat because of how much she weighed. That day confused me a lot.
Sense we moved a lot I was always the new kid and being shy and a new kid is not a good mix. I had friends but a lot of times I just felt out of place. I had more fun playing with my siblings and neighborhood friends then I did meeting people at school. I was a good mix of a girly girl and tom boy. I loved barbies but, I also loved climbing trees, making mud slides, playing cops and robbers etc. Although I did like playing with my brother and sister, but sometimes I'd be left out because my sister was one of the guys and would always play with my brother and his friends. I hated being left behind, I don't know why they didn't want me to play with them at times. But, I got over it. I had a best friend in fourth grade through sixth grade and I remember always feeling inferior to her. She had always played sports, was really pretty and trendy and the guys always liked her. Since I grew up not knowing anything about make up and stuff I just looked ridiculous next to her. I would let her do my make up and I felt pretty at times. She was really outgoing and I was the shy one. We had a lot of fun together.
Another thing I remember, in fifth grade I felt bigger than all the other girls. I also felt like my clothes were ugly and that I was ugly. I don't know why I felt this way but I did. I didn't really have friends in fifth grade I don't know why. I remember one day this heavier kid that everyone made fun of asked me to be his lunch pal one day. I felt bad for him so of course I said yes. I was so embarrassed sitting with him though and I felt that I must be ugly sense the he was talking to me. The few friends I had picked on me for sitting with him and said I liked him etc. I was so humiliated. But, at the same time he was really a nice kid and I felt bad for him. I felt like a bad person for not wanting to be his friend because of what others thought of me.
Another thing that happened in fifth grade was my music teacher noticed that I had a good voice and gave me a solo in the school musical. I was so ecstatic that someone thought my voice was good...especially a music teacher. At this time in my life I believed I was going to be famous one day for my singing. I so strongly believed that I was meant to sing and that I would be a pop star and be rich and famous and my life would be so awesome. I just felt so destined to be a singer. I always loved singing and I would sing all the time day and night. I tried so hard and when I sang I felt like I was on top of the world. That dream eventually faded once I grew up and became a pessimist. Still to this day I love singing and it makes me so happy and takes me out of this world when I sing, but I now know I don't want a career out of it.
Sixth grade went a lot better for me, I joined the cheer leading team and I loved it. I had a good circle of friends and made decent grades. I was so happy. Yet for some reason I still felt bigger than all the other girls. I don't know why I felt this way I wasn't fat. I just didn't see that then. I remember that summer I went swimsuit shopping and my aunt and mom were saying I should get a bikini...I was like no, no, I can't wear a bikini I'm not thin enough. They persisted and looked at me like I was crazy. They eventually got me to try one on and I felt really uncomfortable but they kept going on and on of how good I looked so I thought well I guess I don't look bad and the bikini was so cute. It was neon pink with orange and white flowers, had the shorts bottom and a triangle top. So I wore it to the public pool and that day I wanted to hide under a rock. I felt so fat and thought everyone was thinking why is she wearing that she is too fat. I hid under the water most the time and after that I never wore that two piece again. I remember the worst move of my life was when my parents decided to buy a house 45 min away in the country...yuck! I was sooo upset about moving I was having the time of my life and now I had to move and be the new kid all over again. We moved that summer and I had no friends and no way to make any as school was out. I stayed at home all day and was bored out of my mind. I started snacking a lot. I always loved food....which sucked for me in the long end. I would just mindlessly eat because I was so bored.
I gained a little weight that summer, I went from a size 3 to a size 5/7. I thought I was so gross and fat...but sense I was so tall I still looked thin. I just couldn't see that. I remember going shopping for 7th grade, I got a ton of cute jeans and tops and everything looked really good on me, but I still felt fat. I don't understand why I always felt that way. I got picked on a lot from the girls in 7th grade I never realized why until later. I think it was because they were jealous of me. A lot of the guys at school liked me but I was so clueless and naive when it came to boys I barely noticed. I wanted so badly to try out for the cheer leading team or basket ball but I felt so inadequate because I'd never played sports growing up. I was too scared of failing, that I'd rather not try.
The older I got the worse things got. Unfortunately my family went through a lot of finacial distress and for some reason I would always internal that stress. When I was in 7th grade I hated school, I would come home and cry to my mom that I had no friends and that I got picked on and I'd be so bored and lonely at home. Then my science teacher got a snake and I've always been terrified of snakes so I refused to go in the classroom. Everyone made fun of me, even my teacher ridiculed me for being afraid. I went through hell trying to just switch science classes. My counselor for some reason kept saying she couldn't move me and that maybe they could put a poster in front of the cage so I wouldn't see it. I tried that but I couldn't even focus in class because I knew the snake was right behind that poster and just knowing it was in there terrified me. I'd have to leave class a lot because I would go in the bathroom and cry because I was so afraid. Soon my science class moved to another building and they finally switched my class. When I walked in the class my new science teacher ridiculed me and said it was ridiculous that I had to switch classes because I was afraid of a snake that was in a cage and couldn't even hurt me. I was very sensitive and just burst into tears. I was so upset that no one understood my fear and thought I was stupid and foolish. I was even more embarrassed. I wished so badly that I would not be afraid at the time I felt like my fear was ruining my life. The teacher took me outside the class and apologized saying she didn't realize how bad my fear was and she was sorry for making me feel that way. That day when I went home and told my mom what happened my mom was so upset she decided to pull me out of school and home school me. The thing is I never really got homeschooled.
We moved to another city closer to my grandparents. Thank God we were back in the city. I started eight grade and I had gained even more weight and was a size 11/13 now. So by this time I was actually a little chunky. So school was awful. I felt so ugly and like such an outcast because I had to wear skirts and no makeup while all the other girls rocked their jeans and abercrombie shirts with eyeliner and cute hair styles while my hair was in a ponytail everyday. I was so self conscious about my size that I wore an over sized hoodie over all my clothes to hide my fat. I only had one friend at school...we became best friends and have been friends ever since. But I was really depressed in school. That year I saw a girl in my math class raise her sleeve of her hoodie and saw all the horrifying cuts on her arms. I thought that was scary and was confused but then I realized people cut to feel better so I thought well if it works for her then maybe I should try it. So that's when I started cutting. It got bad really quickly and it was way too hard to hide. One day I cut myself so deep because I was so angry that it scared me and I stopped cutting. My siblings made fun of me and my mom never acknowledge it. That made me feel like she didn't care. I mean her daughter was freaking slicing her skin open and she just ignored it. But now I know it was because she just didn't understand and probably hoped it was just a phase.
That year my baby brother was born...I was 14 at the time. We all immediately loved him even though my siblings and I did not want another sibling. We moved again that summer. I started high school and had all these plans to make A's and B's and be involved in things. I started dance my freshman year and was determined to try out for the drill team. But..shortly after I realized one I looked awful in a leo and two I sucked at dancing. I probably could have done it if I tried harder but for some reason I just never tried hard enough. So that dream went down the gutter especially once I found out how expensive it was to be on the drill team my parents could never afford it. I was very depressed that year. I really didn't have any friends because I was so shy and felt fat and ugly, so I thought nobody would want to be friends with the fat girl. I stayed up all night playing video games and writing depressing poems...I remember some nights I'd blare Hawthorne Heights and just cry in my bed and scream the lyrics in angst. I missed so much school. Especially when my mom started working I'd miss the bus on purpose all the time. I'd stay up all night and sleep all day. When I did go to school I'd just talk to my friends the whole time and never really try. I wasn't stupid I just was unmotivated. I remember I loved English and joined a poetry club which I loved but...shortly got out of it, I can't remember why. I even got one of my poems published in the school paper. I remember wanting to try out for the school musicals but then I found out that it was $200 just to be in it and then you had to pay for your costume and make up kit and when I told my mom that she was like no way. I don't have that kind of money so that dream went down the drain. Oh, I also loved Spanish class. I was really good and caught on fast and had an A in that class. It felt so good to have an A. I felt like I was worth something in life. Later on my depression got worse and I started feeling suicidal. I wrote my mom a long email and explained to her why I thought I was depressed and that I should go to a doctor and get medicine or something. She never responded and when I brought it up she just brushed it off. I never understood why she did that. Of course in high school part of the reason I was unhappy was because my weight. I started to not eat all day at school and then when I'd get home I'd binge on everything. I didn't realize what I was doing at the time.
So we moved again and my mom and I decided it would be best to home school me sense I was so behind in school. I was in ISS pretty much every week for skipping class and had Saturday detention a lot. I always had detention and was called into the principles office all the time just for being late and not showing up for class. Being homeschooled was not the best idea for me, my mom had good intentions but I guess we both just did not anticipate all the work that came with it. I started working and I don't know why I didn't just go back to school and graduate a year late or something. Worst decision I've ever made in my life. I will always regret not finishing high school but I've come a long way from there. I started working when I was 15 and got my GED right before I turned 18. From age 15 to about 20 life was hell. Finances with my parents were awful and I went through hell getting to and from work. I fought with my mom constantly because of this. I never was able to save for a car because once I started working my parents stopped paying for everything. I had awful teeth because of my genes. So once I started working I started paying for all my dental work which was ridiculously expensive. My parents paid for house and food of course but everything else I paid for. I was also awful with my finances and became a shopaholic and so yea never could save money. Once I started saving for a car I had hope that my life would get better. I was proud of myself for finally having some self control. Once I got my car life was soooo much better. I was so happy. Then my car ended up being a lemon and I had no idea how to take care of a car and I never got an oil change because I just kept putting it off. So basically my engine blew up and my car got repoed and then the hell of being taken to work again started. I worked one full time job and a part time job. I've always loved working. I loved making my own money. I felt so accomplished having such a good work ethic and being responsible. All my employers complimented me on how great I was. It felt really good. Eventually the hell I was going through at home got to be too much and my parents kicked me out...I still don't know why. I moved in with my grandparents and aunt. I was so happy. No stress and my aunt never complained about car pooling with me to work. This happened a few times, my mom and I would get in a fight and then they'd kick me out for the most obscene reasons.
(Please read the next bit with caution, I highly, highly discourage pro ana sites, curiosity killed the cat. Please just trust me and stay away from these sites.)
When I was 18, I heard of pro ana websites. Pretty much the worst thing to happen to me in my life. I googled them and became so infatuated with this idea that I could "become anorexic". It's appalling, I know but, at the time I had no idea what all an eating disorder entailed. I just thought It would be a great way to lose weight and become the happy girl I always had dreamed of. So I spent hours at a time reading all these tips etc on "how to become anorexic", I thought hey I can do this. Lose a ton of weight fast and then just start eating again. I was sooo dumb, second biggest mistake in my life. I started right away, I didn't eat for 3 days straight and then one morning I ate a brownie and felt so guilty that I threw it up. I didn't wanna be bulimic...but after that first time It just spiraled out of control. I would write in my journal all these awful, awful, things about myself. Like, "your a disgusting pig", "your so fat, no one will ever love you", you don't deserve to live because your so repulsive", "your so ugly and fat, you can't even refuse food", "your such a failure for eating", etc. It didn't take very long for me to start to believing all those awful things. I started purging 5 to 6 times a day. I wouldn't eat anything without throwing up. I started losing weight pretty fast and thought I was on top of the world. Life was great, people always commented on how good I looked and asked me how I did it. I would simply just say, "oh I watch what I eat and walk for an hour everyday.". I did walk for an hour every single night. I would never feel like it was good enough. Sometimes I'd walk for 2 hours. I'd beat myself up every time I ate and would have nightmares about eating. I was so angry all the time and snapped at everyone. I would go to work and be in so much pain from vomiting my guts up the night before. I'd be so tired and exhausted, I'd come home and sleep all day after work and then stayed up binging and purging all night. It was an awful time. About a year later my family discovered my secret. Soon after that I went to church and was delivered. I stopped purging and tried to eat like a normal person. I did pretty good but slowly started gaining weight. I had a boyfriend and was happy and thought I was fine. But, soon after I just started gaining more weight. This went on for a few years. I'd try to diet but every time I did, it would just turn into me being bulimic again.
I finally snapped one day after weighing myself and seeing how big I was. I stopped eating and started purging again. I lost weight but did not want to keep living that way. I worked 11 hour days with kids and started binge eating. I didn't realize at the time that I was binge eating and I gained even more weight.
I didn't realize at the time that I was working myself to death. I worked 11 hour days and would go to school at night...stayed up half the night with my boyfriend at the time. Then get up at 5:30am and do it all over again. I also got a part time job that summer and was working 11 hour days plus and extra 25 on nights and weekends. I was spending all my money faster than it came in. Binge eating is extremely expensive by the way. A binge consist of eating an excessive amount of food in a very short period of time. When a person binges there is a loss of control, many people report that they are in another world, not present at the time. I got credit cards and maxed them out fairly quickly. I loved my job and I thought my life was great. I made great money and loved working....then I started getting extremely stressed because of my bills and then my car started acting up. My ex and I broke up and life got weird. I spent so much time with him I wasn't sure how to be single. I was just trying to stay busy but, I didn't realize at the time how sad I was. I wasn't sad because I was single though. I was happy to not be with him anymore. I just felt so lost in the world. I ignored all the signs. I just worked, worked, worked. I started to get so stressed out about bills it almost drove me insane. I started binging and purging more. I started looking for attention from guys from online dating sights. It never ended up good. They all just wanted sex and I don't know what I was thinking. I was so unhappy with the way I looked and I felt so gross and just disgusted. I thought maybe if guys liked me it would make me feel better about myself. I did a lot of stupid things the past two years. I regret a lot. I've watched my life spiral out of control right before my eyes. I was constantly tortured in my mind. Imagine the worst nightmare you have every had...I was living it. Waking up in the morning being terrified of getting up because I HAD to weigh myself and what if I gained weight. The numbers on the scale determined how my day would be. No matter how much I lost, it was never enough. I was constantly hearing awful things in my head. I'll give you some examples to explain how dreadful living with this illness is. I heard "your fat and ugly, no one will ever love you", "people will never believe you have an eating disorder because your fat, so you better not ask for help", "you know what people think of you don't you?", "they see you and think youre fat, ugly, a failure, how could you show your face in public", "everyone knows you eat too much, that you have no control, that you eat a ton and are too lazy to even workout". I'd go to the gym and kill myself and then the voice in my head was never satisfied, It would say, "you can do more", "youre so lazy", "do you really think that's enough to make you look better", "your so weak", "a little pain and youre ready to give up", "everyone can see youre not trying hard enough". I'd go into stores and think people were thinking, "why is she going to try that on she will look disgusting in that", "why is she shopping in this section, she can't possibly fit in these clothes". So then I'd head to the plus size section to feel more comfortable while shopping, at least I was where I belonged. Don't even get me started on going to the grocery store...maybe one of the scariest places. I heard things like "is she really buying food", "doesnt she know she deserves to starve", "does she have enough food in her basket", "is she really buying that stuff", "you should be embarrassed that you are buying food", "everyone is judging you for your fat ass", "a fat girl buying food, you should be ashamed".
These are the thoughts that tortured my mind every single day. Imagine living in a world where you felt all these things were true. Imagine looking in the mirror and starting to cry because what was looking back at you was too ugly to bare. Imagine trying on clothes and sitting in the dressing room crying because you looked so gross in everything you tried on. Imagine a world where you were your worst enemy and there was no way out. I thought, If only I could be thin then everything would be alright. This torture would cease and I'd finally be happy.
I finally realized I needed help and started looking for a therapist and psychiatrist. I made an appointment with a pyschiatrist and got put on and anti deppressant, xanax, and I tricked my way into getting vyvance, which is for add. I don't have ADD, I just got it to lose weight. It worked, I didn't eat anything for two weeks straight. I was going through mania and had extreme energy all day long and then come home and crash. My parents got worried because they saw a change in my mood. I was like a zombie when I got home every night and would be so grouchy from not eating. Two weeks later I had my first appoinment with a therapist that specializes in eating disorders. June 26th, I'll never forget that day. My life turned upside down. I went in, thinking this was it, I was finally going to get help...boy was I wrong. As soon as I sat down my eating disorder started attacking me. I felt like voices were literally screaming in my head, "why are you doing this, you need to lose weight first", "your so fat, no one will ever believe you are bulimic", "this lady is going to think youre a joke, she's going to think you just want attention", "don't you want to be thin, what are you doing", "if you get better you will never be thin", "your so fat, your embarrassing yourself", "you can't even be good at having an eating disorder", "you throw up and your still fat". All these awful thoughts filled my head and I was so distraught, I was literally being tortured. She suggested I go to an Over eaters Anonymous meetings and that just confirmed to me that she thought I was fat and did not throw up. I drove home sobbing and had no idea what was going on. I was so confused and overwhelmed by all these feelings I had. I didn't know what to do. I literally felt like I was losing my mind. The world turned gray in an instant. I felt like I was in a fog, so thick I couldn't see anything but the pain I felt.
I went home and took a nap around 4:30...woke up around 8:20 and as soon as I opened my eyes I thought I should kill myself. So long story short I overdosed and tried to slit my wrist. Luckily my parents found me fast and I was headed to the hospital an hour later. I drank charcol and stayed over night. All was fine and then they transferred me to a psychiatric hospital, where I stayed for 7 days. It was a really strange experience, I could'nt believe this is what my life had come to. I literally had gone crazy. When I got home on July 3rd, my family surprised me with a room makeover. It was so beautiful and I felt so loved. July 5th, I went to my psychiatrist and explained what happpened. She was very concerned and suggested residential care. From that moment on, I lost myself. I was terrified to go to residential care...I was way to fat to go to an eating disorder rehab. All the awful thoughts drowned my head and I was sinking quickly with despair. For a week I purged 5 times a day and then I just completely stopped eating. I self medicated with xanax and my sleeping meds so that I could escape this nightmare. I lived on coffee and tea. I was so proud of myself for not eating and I wished so badly that I could not go to treatment until I lost a ton of weight. But all too soon I arrived at Timberline Knolls ( a residential treatment facility for eating disorders, addictions, and PTSD) on August first. My nightmare had come true, as soon as I walked in the door I saw a really thin girl and my heart dropped. I was so embarrassed to be there because I was there for bulimia and was so fat, I thought no one would believe me. The first two weeks were hell. I didn't realize how bad a problem I had until they took it away from me. Not being able to purge was killing me. I seriously was going crazy. But then eventually my eyes opened and I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. God finally interfered through the darkness and showed me the light. I started to give recovery my all and progressed fairly fast. I made a ton of amazing friends and my stay at Timberline knolls changed my life tremedously. Although there were times I wanted to hurt everyone...there were more times I prospered and saw true joy in life.
I have continued my recovery at home and I am proud to say as of current I have not purged now for 2 months. It's hard as hell and sometimes and I feel like I'm losing my mind all over again but, I stay strong and keep fighting. I don't want to go back to that dark place...ok honestly sometimes I do, but that's my irrational mind talking. I have found an eating disorders anonymous meeting 45 min away from me and have been going to it. I am also going to Over eaters Anonymous meetings as well as AA. I am not an over eater and nor am I an alcoholic but they both practice the same 12 steps. I've had my issues with alcohol so I think it is important for me to participate to keep myself sober. I now have a sponsor, who is amazing by the way. I have started to work the 12 steps and after a year in recovery I plan to start an EDA meeting where I live. There is not enough EDA meetings and they are so beneficial to recovery. I plan to give back all that I have learned. Recovery is possible for everyone and everyone should have a chance to recover. I also plan to one day start a scholarship program for girls that are not able to afford residential treatment. I also want to become part of the National Eating Disorder Association to further my attempts in making a difference.
I am so excited to see where my recovery will take me.
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