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I had another good talk with J yesterday, though I kept breaking off into tangents.
It’s always good to be honest, and honesty doesn’t usually go hand in hand with an eating disorder. However, we both told eachother we had mixed emotions about living together. As our dietician has told me time and again, it could end up being a great thing, or it could be a sh*t storm.
My weekend was not great. I felt out of control and completely in my eating disorder. I didn’t know how to get out of it. Once the work week started, I went back into “recovery mode,” as structure is good for me.
My therapist called me yesterday afternoon to check in, and I told her I felt better about recovery, but still apprehensive about living with J. This whole situation sucks: her body composition triggers the heck out of me, yet we have so much in common it’s inevitable we will become friends. So except for the whole ED thing (which of course is a big deal), it’s the ideal roommate situation.
Ugh.
So I sent J an email, suggesting maybe we check in once a week with how we’re doing, and what support we might need from each other. She agreed, as long as we have the usual parameters of abstaining from talk about calories, weights, workouts, and foods (well, the food part is hard since we cook together sometimes, but you know what I mean.) So it’s a start. Time will tell, I guess.
Yesterday, I ate over 100% of my meal plan.
I did not feel guilty for doing so.
Dinner was hard to eat, but I got through it.
Today, I’m on track for 100% again.
Things are looking up.
Last night, I had a fashion show for the roommates. I have a wedding on Saturday and a bridal shower tonight, and I have the fashion sense of a dead ant (read: none). They showered me with jewelry, shawls, and girly shoes. They told me what I’d look better in. There was much laughter and shouting and whatnot.
When I lived in a (two bedroom) condo (with five other girls… oh, the memories) during my outpatient treatment, we all handled things so well. We cooked together. We shopped together. We ate together. We participated in anything revolving food… together. And we all grew and learned and encouraged and received encouragement.
But, we were patients in a treatment program first, and roommates second. This is not how I want to relate to J. Unlike the girls in the condo, I see a potentially lasting friendship and, er, roommate-ship with her. So talking about food and exchanges and exercise plans and meal plans and therapy nonstop is not ideal.
But, sometimes that’s what I want. There is no one else in my life (besides a few friends from my support group, but neither of them deal with restricting) who lives in the same proximity who GETS it. sometimes I crave the ability to relate.
So, finding a healthy balance for both of us remains to be seen. But the cool thing is, I can feel myself getting into a good rhythm of casually mentioning ED and recovery type things, but above all being myself and just acting like a goofball.
I’m on track to eat 100% today. Actually, more than that, as I ate double for my snack just now. In Jess’ words, “I’m hungreeeeee!”
Mixed reviews have come in regarding the living situation. Therapist still thinks it will work, but will only give me till Halloween to be fully back on track. If I’m still struggling, I need to move out or as J to leave.
The girls in my support group think it’s a horrible idea to live with her (though in my defense, I had NO IDEA she had an ED when A and I asked her to move in. If I’d known, I’d never have wanted her as a roommate), and they think I should move out immediately.
My thoughts? I think it will work. Granted, yesterday sucked in the eating department, but today is a new day. Yes, I think it will be harder with her around, but not impossible. We get along so well already, and I think the prospect of moving out of an otherwise great environment will help motivate me to get back into gear.
What do you think? What safeguards should I have? Or should I call it a wash and move on? Why?
Last week was hell.
Besides being constantly hungry and sick from a plethora of caffeine and next to no food, my mind was playing insane tricks on me.
Living with an anorexic is hard, when one is trying to resist anorexia.
I had emergency sessions with my therapist and dietician. I tried to eat but couldn’t get above 40% of my meal plan. I was going downhill.
Time for reinforcements in the forms of my best friend and boyfriend.
I came up with a goal. If I was not FULLY back on track by Thanksgiving, I would move out. I have no idea where I’d move, but the goal was to provide motivation, and not actually have to relocate.
The prospect of moving has propelled me to eat. 60-ish% on Saturday. 75% yesterday. And I’m aiming for 100% today.
Let’s get this straight. I don’t want to eat. I want to starve. I want to “be thin” (whatever that means). I want to look like her.
But I can’t always get what I want.
Thanks for the encouragement about my sudden unwillingness to eat. I haven’t been so terrified to consume certain foods since before I went into treatment.
I figured that, though I’m not willing to eat much, I *am* willing to reach out to people. Though I want to be thin, I (thankfully) want to recover even more.
I texted and emailed my treatment team. I let my bff and bf know my obsessive thoughts. I see my dietician tomorrow for an emergency appointment (which, of course, is right before my roommate’s appointment. Oh joy.)
I… don’t know what else to write. I’m struggling. I’m drowning. I’m terrified of food.
I’m hungry.
I haven’t done much posting in a while, eh? There really hasn’t been much to report. I have rarely even thought of my ED, and if I struggled, I quickly got myself out of it (“it” usually being unhealthy ED thoughts.)
But life has definitely changed. The boy and I made it official and are “in a relationship” according to Facebook. I’m happy to be dating him. A week after we decided to be all cute and happy and call eachother girlfriend and boyfriend, I told him about my ED, treatment, recovery, all that.
He handled it amazingly. All positive. All encouraging. All supportive. Gah, he’s rad.
So that’s definitely a new change. Having a boyfriend. Also new on the life front is that I started school. Again. See, I never graduated from college. I worked my way up at my job to a position that usually requires a masters degree, and am now finally getting my undergrad done. On my company’s dime. Not bad.
Also new is the roommate, J. A and I have been living with psychoroommatefromhell, and we finally decided to kick her out. We were nice about it, and psychogirl was cool with it because she didn’t like us anyway.
So now we have J. She moved in a week ago.
She’s super sweet, and has a personality similar to A and I, so we knew it would work. But, there could potentially be a problem.
Long story short, J is in the beginning stages of recovery for anorexia. We randomly discovered that we both saw the same dietician, which outed both of us since she only sees clients with eating disorders. She’s also in therapy with an ED specialist.
But, as you and I know, recovery is not easy. She struggles to eat enough, and usually doesn’t hit her caloric goal.
My first thought was that it was awesome she and I were living together. Built in support, when needed. Someone to relate to. But since talking in-depth last night, all I can think about is restricting.
I am fully set on restricting again, and can only assume it’s because J is very thin and I want to look like her. I want to be at my initial recovery weight, not my current weight. I want to go back to my romantic view of my ED, not the reality of the hell I was living in. I want to lose weight, and lose it quickly.
This can’t end well.
I’m not in a good place.
I know when it started – a few weeks ago – but not quite sure how.
The fact is that I’ve gained weight. At first, I ignored it. Recovery is more important.
Then, clothes stopped fitting. And I freaked the heck out.
The same week, I went for a bridesmaid dress fitting. It wouldn’t zip up. The girl at the shop was OH SO (not) HELPFUL, and suggested I go on a crash diet and exercise more.
Right.
So I did what a good recovery girl does, and freaked out to my therapist via text message. That went well, until the weekend when I went on some purge-and-restrict parties.
After getting the dress altered as much as humanly possible, it is still too tight.
And I just don’t give a shit about recovery anymore.
I’m done.
That’s all I got.
In August, I went to dinner with a good friend of mine. We sat outdoors overlooking the Long Beach harbor, taking in the fresh air and beautiful views. While imbibing on red wine and feasting on ceviche, my friend and I talked about many topics, including – of course – treatment and dating.
My time in intensive outpatient treatment was winding down, and I felt good enough to start eating meals at restaurants off meal plan (i.e. “intuitive eating”). And I felt I needed more interaction away from treatment friends, so why not go on a few dates? That night, I subscribed to two dating sites.
Oh, boy.
So the last guy I went out with turned out to be a disaster, and I relapsed. So while I maintained my subscription to both sites, I didn’t do much with either of them for a while. It’s my MO… when things get tough, just run from them. But as I got better and the eating disorder continued to be a non-issue, I decided to ramp up the online dating game.
Because of this, I have learned something about myself that I always knew, but never wanted to fully admit.
Hi. I’m [HatingED], and I’m an addict.
I’ve been addicted to food. I’ve been addicted to restricting food. I’ve had problems with alcohol. And now, I have a love affair with receiving attention from men.
I think I’m more ashamed of this fact than I am about the fact that I had (HAD! PAST TENSE!) bulimia.
I’ve been on a few dates with a few different guys. None of them went well. But I craved their attention nonetheless. I still flirted. I still gauged MY self worth on THEIR perception of me. And on one date, I cross boundaries I had firmly set for myself purely because saying “no” is not in my vocabulary (though this has to do with past trauma issues and is now being addressed.)
In a completely off topic note, the administrative assistant across the hall from me is loudly talking on the phone about pole dancing. Okay.
The good news is that I see myself growing. I am working on my issues with my friends and therapist and (finally) God, and am not proverbiably beating myself up about my weaknesses. Plus, my therapist is The Awesome. However, it’s tough recovering from one debilitating illness and thinking things are so much better, only to learn that I have another crutch that I use to cope through life with.
Have you noticed other “coping mechanisms” pop up as you start to recover? Also, how have you dealt with dating or men while in recovery (or if you aren’t in recovery, how do you deal with dating in general?)
I haven’t relapsed.
And I’m not going to.
Okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way.
This has been a tough few weeks. The trigger doesn’t matter (and is a bit too personal to blog about, as I’m still working through it myself), but I will say that it started with a seemingly “normal” therapy session that ended up delving into some incredibly difficult material. I held it together, or so I thought, for a day or two. Then, I cracked.
Binge.
Purge.
Binge.
Purge.
Restrict.
Run.
Purge.
Repeat.
I felt like I was on autopilot, as though there was no way in hell to stop me from performing those actions. And I was fighting, hard, to stop.
That was the difference between the past few weeks of behaviors, and my previous relapse. I could not give a shit before. Now, I want to curb the behaviors and get back on the path of recovery like no other.
I called my therapist. I called my dietician. I made extra appointments with each. I asked for prayer. I prayed. I wrote. I went back on my meal plan.
I slipped. More than I would have liked.
But then I got back up.
I’m still on my meal plan, except when I go out to eat. But this past weekend, which provided many instances in which a meal plan just wasn’t going to happen, gave me the confidence that I could begin to (slowly) eat intuitively again. Without restricting, or feeling the need to binge or purge. I’m back on track, with some reservations.
Perseverance is difficult, but worth it
You know the spot that is between a rock and a hard place? I have another word for that.
Recovery.
Don’t get me wrong. I love being in recovery. I love the physical, emotional, and social benefits. But sometimes…
… it’s just, plain, hard.
This last week has been odd. I have been obsessed with my weight and body. I have wanted to restrict, purge, and even binge (which is something I rarely did). I never actually did those behaviors, but actually thinking about those things put me in some negative moods.
I talked about it with my therapist, who reminded me of some important points:
- I got out of my relapse in record time. She actually never saw someone go into recovery so swiftly. Therefore, there are bound to be bumps in the road.
- Kind of in the same light, I only just came back into recovery. It hasn’t barely been a month that I have been exercising and eating intuitively. I can’t expect the thoughts to go away.
- There will be good days, bad days, and worse days. But the fact that I’m not engaging in my behaviors is key.
- I’m simply not recovered yet.
It’s the last point that kills me. I want to be recovered. Now. Yesterday. Already. I want to be done with this eating disorder, with the thoughts, with the consumption.
Do you ever have seasons like this, where you are in a good spot, but then suddenly the ED thoughts try to consume you? What do you do to get out of your head? Leave a comment!
