I've never felt like a strong person. In friendships/relationships, I have always felt like the weak link. However, I have come to the conclusion that I must be strong because I wouldn't have made it this far in life... I would have completely given up by now and said screw it, this is my life, instead of being determined to (as I word the disorders) "kick these bitches to the curb". I wouldn't be trying so hard if I didn't have the strength in me to do so.
At this moment, I don't feel strong. I wish someone could hold my hand and tell me everything is going to be ok. I wish someone could reassure me that I will make it thru this. I don't feel as alone as I used to, but I do in some ways still feel alone... I'm thinking that's common for others in the same situation. These are hard disorders to understand, and sometimes it's very hard for me to explain how I feel, so I try to cope by myself. However, I have many people who have assured me that I will never have to be completely alone in this... which is a good feeling.
I've learned it's ok to have breakdowns and need a shoulder to cry on. It's ok to ask someone to just listen. I've learned that I'm surrounded by a great support system that will do whatever they can to help me. But the ball is in my court... no one can wave a magic wand (although I think they wish they could!) and fix me... they can only hope I can make it thru, that I can sober up for good.
My therapist and I have come to the conclusion that it's not the empty feeling I crave, it's actually being fulfilled. When I feel skinny, I feel physically fulfilled, which makes me happy... which gives makes me emotionally fulfilled. So my feelings still match... and I have the feeling I want because I am satisfied. All this time of feeling like I needed the empty feeling was actually needing the opposite, but with the same effect of feeling nothing (if that makes sense to anyone).
I'm currently on what I would consider a typical Bipolar low, but right now I also don't feel fulfilled. I feel like I am gaining weight back. I stepped on my scale this morning and my immediate reaction was wanting to throw it out the window. I started feeling my pants get a little tighter, which prompted me to know the numbers were going up, but I wasn't prepared to see what I saw. So all I want is my physical fulfillment back. I want to feel skinny like I was starting to... to have my skinny jeans make me feel skinny... and right now I don't. I can't let myself gain when I was finally almost where I wanted to be. The feeling sitting in me right now is that of an extremely unsatisfied person, and I hate it. I don't ever want to see that number I saw again. EVER. With the exception of if I ever got pregnant again, because that weight gain is completely different. I still wouldn't like it, but could learn to accept it for obvious reasons.
I really wonder if there will ever be a time when I'm not obsessed with my scale, when the numbers won't matter. Quite honestly I don't see that ever happening. I weigh myself almost every day and expect to see the same thing every day, or lower. I know the magic number I want.
It's hard to work towards recovery feeling this way. It's hard to work on fixing myself when I am so unhappy with myself physically, because that just makes me unhappy emotionally, which makes the negative feelings match. I feel like this feeling is normal, that everyone in my position is going thru the same thing... I question how people can sober up permanently from these disorders, these demons that consume us. I wonder how some people can fully recover and never stare at that back windshield, how they can defrost it and the crystal clear glass doesn't attract them. Every time I see that crystal clear glass I want to touch it. I want to be able to look at that shiny glass and have it do nothing for me.
But what I want most is to be able to look in the mirror and forgive that almost 14 year old girl who made that life changing choice to purge for the first time.... and realize she didn't have to be perfect.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Some days are just hard.
4% of people in the US have eating disorders. Out of the next 99 people I encounter, 3 of them are like me, and one of them is male. Quite honestly, I thought it was higher than 4%, but I am so grateful that it isn't. I'm determined to not be one of them anymore.
Right now I feel like I'm in the Mall of America. I walk in and I am immediately overwhelmed by everything I see. There are so many stores I don't know where to start...I want everything! I see Gap, Old Navy, DSW.... I spot Banana Republic on the second level... and I can even see Coach from a distance. I want to run, but know I need to start from the beginning and go store by store and take my time which is hard....even if it means saving the best for last.
However, the past few days I have felt discouraged, like things are always going to be this way, which usually happens when I'm depressed. I had a meltdown last night, and the night before, because I just needed to let go of the frustration and things that hurt, and after a meltdown I generally feel a million times better.
Today I just felt like complete crap, all I wanted to do was sit on my couch and cry... which I still do, but I am so sick of crying. I'm just flat out depressed. I hate this full feeling inside me and can't think of anything else because it's just consuming me... and it needs to just go because I really can't take this feeling. And lately, I just want to be by myself. It's not anything anyone is doing, I just want to be alone. And cry. Sometimes I worry if I start crying I won't be able to stop.
I don't want to be part of this 4% anymore. But I don't know what it's like to be in the other 96%. How can something so bad for me make me feel secure? Today, I will say I need it. I can't let this go, it's too hard for me. I don't wanna lose a part of myself that I don't know how to be without. I know I need to step outside the box... but this is so much easier said than done.
I know I'm on a real low... it happens... and being Bipolar this is always going to happen more to me than the average person. Will I feel differently tomorrow? I'm optimistic. Its a new day.
Right now I feel like I'm in the Mall of America. I walk in and I am immediately overwhelmed by everything I see. There are so many stores I don't know where to start...I want everything! I see Gap, Old Navy, DSW.... I spot Banana Republic on the second level... and I can even see Coach from a distance. I want to run, but know I need to start from the beginning and go store by store and take my time which is hard....even if it means saving the best for last.
However, the past few days I have felt discouraged, like things are always going to be this way, which usually happens when I'm depressed. I had a meltdown last night, and the night before, because I just needed to let go of the frustration and things that hurt, and after a meltdown I generally feel a million times better.
Today I just felt like complete crap, all I wanted to do was sit on my couch and cry... which I still do, but I am so sick of crying. I'm just flat out depressed. I hate this full feeling inside me and can't think of anything else because it's just consuming me... and it needs to just go because I really can't take this feeling. And lately, I just want to be by myself. It's not anything anyone is doing, I just want to be alone. And cry. Sometimes I worry if I start crying I won't be able to stop.
I don't want to be part of this 4% anymore. But I don't know what it's like to be in the other 96%. How can something so bad for me make me feel secure? Today, I will say I need it. I can't let this go, it's too hard for me. I don't wanna lose a part of myself that I don't know how to be without. I know I need to step outside the box... but this is so much easier said than done.
I know I'm on a real low... it happens... and being Bipolar this is always going to happen more to me than the average person. Will I feel differently tomorrow? I'm optimistic. Its a new day.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited, or erased. It can only be accepted.
There is no better way to say that.... but it is the cold hard truth. There's nothing else you can do.
(If anyone has a hard time hearing what I've done, do not read further... it's a little graphic/detailed)
This is the stuff I can remember... so much of these diseases I tried to block out and forget...
When I was 7, I refused to go to school unless I threw up first. I would sit in the bathroom for however long it took to get something up... I didn't care if it made me late, it was what I needed to start my day. I remember it very clearly, however I have vivid memories of how long it lasted, I just know it wasn't a long term thing. I don't think that had any affect on the decisions I made later on, but I find it odd that it was an issue for me when I was so young. I don't think at the age it was weight based at all... yet I know I obviously must have gotten an empty feeling from it.
Fast forward 4-5 years later....
I knew the risks. I had someone come to my school who had battled both eating disorders, to talk to my health class about all the consequences of them. I was 11 or 12 at the time (can't remember if it was 6th grade or 7th). To hear her story and the things she went thru were definitely an eye opener to these diseases... I didn't understand how someone could do that to themselves, I didn't understand how that could possibly make someone feel better, especially knowing all the damage that they can do to your body. With that being said.... I don't understand how I let it happen to me....
I purged for the first time when I was a few months shy of 14. It hurt, and I thought how can anyone do this? It definitely hurt the first several times, but I still loved the feeling of relief afterwards. After that, my body just learned to adjust to it. The difference between the two eating disorders is that bulimia is so much easier to hide, because you basically just maintain your weight... so unless someone is watching you eat like it's thanksgiving then go to the bathroom, it can easily go unnoticed. The bulimia battle went sober and relapse so many times thru my high school years, I can't keep track. I just know that when I played softball freshman year, I was in a very bad place.
After I graduated high school, it was still on and off. I was in a relationship that should have ended long before it did, and I think the stress of the constant fighting was a huge part of it. My husband and I were friends for two years before we started dating, so he's known all along that I've had issues with an eating disorder. I broke up with my ex because my husband and I had feelings for each other and wanted to see where it would go (obviously a good decision!). When my husband and I started dating, I felt fantastic, eating disorder out of my life! When he broke up with me a year later, down I went.... right back to it. Three months after that, we were back together, and things were great again. We moved in together a year later, and bought our house two years after that. So overall, I had a good solid 3 years where for the most part I was fine.... I would purge on and off here and there when I felt the need to, but nothing crazy. I did however, still have a lot of depression issues.
Then 2008 hit like a ton of bricks. I became very very depressed... and the purging was out of control... twice a day, five times a day... sometimes more. I needed to feel that feeling constantly. I started seeing a therapist who I didn't even like, and a psychiatrist who wouldn't give me medication till my purging was more under control. I felt like I was starting the stages of sobering up, then my best friend moved away, and I just lost it. I finally was doing better towards the end of 2008, which lasted for awhile/
And most people probably don't know this...
My then 19 yr old sister was hospitalized that summer for mono, and one night my stepmother and I were just hanging out in her room with her talking, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, she just flat lined. They came running in with the crash cart and I stood in the hallway for what felt like hours, until I heard her talking and laughing again. That will always be by far the scariest moment of my life. I will always have an attachment to her, because there was a chance I would have lost her.
Between that and other things that happened that summer, I had a hard time not falling back into purging, but it didn't last long because I felt fantastic before my wedding in Sept 2009. Things continued to be great, I stopped seeing the therapist I had, and stopped taking all my medications. I was perfectly fine. However a few months into 2010 I started to become very depressed again. I was crying hours a day for months and mid summer decided it was time for a new therapist (the one I still have). I felt a relapse coming which did happen, but sobered up October, and was sober until after my son was a few months old.
I have done a lot of damage to my body. I get sore throats constantly, contracted gum disease, and developed IBS, among many other stomach problems... and these are only the things I know about. I think my body has physically hit the point where I can't purge anymore cause it hurts too much... so to get the same feeling I fell into the anorexia trap.
I wish I could go back and change all of it. I wish I could forget all of it and pretend it never existed. How did I let this happen? How did I let this take over me? Why didn't I stop myself? I don't have the answers. If only I could turn the clock back to the first time I purged and not have done it... my life would be in a whole different place. But the bottom line is... it's the past. I can hate it as much as I want, but that doesn't fix anything. And as much as I wish I could have that blank slate, I wouldn't be the person I am today had I not gone thru these struggles. I want to blame myself for making what I honestly think started with one stupid decision... but what's done is done.
I wish I could stop looking in the rearview mirror and focus on the windshield. The past really is the past... there is no reverse. Working on getting myself to a better place... that's the windshield. And if it starts to snow, I should just drive a little slower, turn the wipers on, and keep going. I just have to remember not to defrost the back window.
(If anyone has a hard time hearing what I've done, do not read further... it's a little graphic/detailed)
This is the stuff I can remember... so much of these diseases I tried to block out and forget...
When I was 7, I refused to go to school unless I threw up first. I would sit in the bathroom for however long it took to get something up... I didn't care if it made me late, it was what I needed to start my day. I remember it very clearly, however I have vivid memories of how long it lasted, I just know it wasn't a long term thing. I don't think that had any affect on the decisions I made later on, but I find it odd that it was an issue for me when I was so young. I don't think at the age it was weight based at all... yet I know I obviously must have gotten an empty feeling from it.
Fast forward 4-5 years later....
I knew the risks. I had someone come to my school who had battled both eating disorders, to talk to my health class about all the consequences of them. I was 11 or 12 at the time (can't remember if it was 6th grade or 7th). To hear her story and the things she went thru were definitely an eye opener to these diseases... I didn't understand how someone could do that to themselves, I didn't understand how that could possibly make someone feel better, especially knowing all the damage that they can do to your body. With that being said.... I don't understand how I let it happen to me....
I purged for the first time when I was a few months shy of 14. It hurt, and I thought how can anyone do this? It definitely hurt the first several times, but I still loved the feeling of relief afterwards. After that, my body just learned to adjust to it. The difference between the two eating disorders is that bulimia is so much easier to hide, because you basically just maintain your weight... so unless someone is watching you eat like it's thanksgiving then go to the bathroom, it can easily go unnoticed. The bulimia battle went sober and relapse so many times thru my high school years, I can't keep track. I just know that when I played softball freshman year, I was in a very bad place.
After I graduated high school, it was still on and off. I was in a relationship that should have ended long before it did, and I think the stress of the constant fighting was a huge part of it. My husband and I were friends for two years before we started dating, so he's known all along that I've had issues with an eating disorder. I broke up with my ex because my husband and I had feelings for each other and wanted to see where it would go (obviously a good decision!). When my husband and I started dating, I felt fantastic, eating disorder out of my life! When he broke up with me a year later, down I went.... right back to it. Three months after that, we were back together, and things were great again. We moved in together a year later, and bought our house two years after that. So overall, I had a good solid 3 years where for the most part I was fine.... I would purge on and off here and there when I felt the need to, but nothing crazy. I did however, still have a lot of depression issues.
Then 2008 hit like a ton of bricks. I became very very depressed... and the purging was out of control... twice a day, five times a day... sometimes more. I needed to feel that feeling constantly. I started seeing a therapist who I didn't even like, and a psychiatrist who wouldn't give me medication till my purging was more under control. I felt like I was starting the stages of sobering up, then my best friend moved away, and I just lost it. I finally was doing better towards the end of 2008, which lasted for awhile/
And most people probably don't know this...
My then 19 yr old sister was hospitalized that summer for mono, and one night my stepmother and I were just hanging out in her room with her talking, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, she just flat lined. They came running in with the crash cart and I stood in the hallway for what felt like hours, until I heard her talking and laughing again. That will always be by far the scariest moment of my life. I will always have an attachment to her, because there was a chance I would have lost her.
Between that and other things that happened that summer, I had a hard time not falling back into purging, but it didn't last long because I felt fantastic before my wedding in Sept 2009. Things continued to be great, I stopped seeing the therapist I had, and stopped taking all my medications. I was perfectly fine. However a few months into 2010 I started to become very depressed again. I was crying hours a day for months and mid summer decided it was time for a new therapist (the one I still have). I felt a relapse coming which did happen, but sobered up October, and was sober until after my son was a few months old.
I have done a lot of damage to my body. I get sore throats constantly, contracted gum disease, and developed IBS, among many other stomach problems... and these are only the things I know about. I think my body has physically hit the point where I can't purge anymore cause it hurts too much... so to get the same feeling I fell into the anorexia trap.
I wish I could go back and change all of it. I wish I could forget all of it and pretend it never existed. How did I let this happen? How did I let this take over me? Why didn't I stop myself? I don't have the answers. If only I could turn the clock back to the first time I purged and not have done it... my life would be in a whole different place. But the bottom line is... it's the past. I can hate it as much as I want, but that doesn't fix anything. And as much as I wish I could have that blank slate, I wouldn't be the person I am today had I not gone thru these struggles. I want to blame myself for making what I honestly think started with one stupid decision... but what's done is done.
I wish I could stop looking in the rearview mirror and focus on the windshield. The past really is the past... there is no reverse. Working on getting myself to a better place... that's the windshield. And if it starts to snow, I should just drive a little slower, turn the wipers on, and keep going. I just have to remember not to defrost the back window.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Look in the mirror... that's your biggest competition.
I couldn't agree with that more. It rings true for all aspects of life, at some point in our lives we are our own worst enemy... there has always been something that in some way, shape, or form, that has challenged each and every one of us. Sometimes we learn to loves ourselves, accept who we are, and realize we're not perfect... and sometimes we don't.
For as long as I can remember, I have hated the person staring back at me. I've always had little to no self esteem... I've always felt the need to be perfect. Obviously as I've gotten older it's not gotten any better, and became worse as I started putting on more weight. With the schedule I used to have, I was working till midnight, so I was always eating dinner and snacking late at night, then going right to bed. In November 2010 ( after a month of being sober), I was at my all time highest weight ever (with the exception of when I was pregnant). I was ridiculously depressed at that point, and I felt just plain fat. I couldn't take it anymore. I started changing my diet a bit and doing at least a mile on my treadmill every night. I lost 7 lbs before I got pregnant in February.
Gaining weight when I was pregnant didn't bother me.. I knew it was because of a baby, not just me getting fat. I gained 39 lbs during my pregnancy, and within 2 months of my son being born I was back to the original weight I had before having him. The weight just came off without much effort, some people apparently just lose their baby weight quickly, and I was lucky enough to be one of them. I did have a relapse with bulimia a few months after that.. sobered up, then had another relapse. I was maybe 10 lbs lighter after that. I still hated what I saw.
After my grandmother passed away last year, the anorexia battle began a few months later. I blame the original start of that relapse on stress. However I was going to Florida in November, and I was determined to fit back into the bikini I had worn on our honeymoon in 09... it was downhill from there. I started to lose weight, and that was when I was finally starting to gain some self esteem. I just wanted to be skinny... and I was starting to get there. I would weigh myself twice a day, sometimes 3 times. Loved how quick I was dropping that weight... and the pant size I was then in was like a miracle to me.
I myself realized it was becoming a problem when I went to the doctors in August 2013, and they weighed me. I saw the number and told the nurse something was wrong with the scale, that that number was weigh too high. That was when I started to see the skeleton and starting working on sobering up. I did gain a few pounds back during that time.
I only had about a 3 month window before this relapse. I had something I was struggling to cope with, so that was how it started again. I had a member of my family at Christmas time who said I had lost a lot of weight, and asked if I was ok, to which I obviously replied yes. I sure wasn't going to admit it.
Since then, I have obviously lost more weight. As much as I want to sober up for good (hopefully) this time, I have finally started to like the person staring back at me. Being able to fit into the pant size I dreamed about is still shocking to me. I love looking at myself in the mirror with those jeans on.... I finally see the skinny girl there. I know a lot of people think I look too thin, but I just want to lose a few more... then I will be at the exact number on the scale that I want. I weigh myself every day still... and I refuse to weigh more than a certain number. If I do, I start to hate myself again. I am now 42 lbs lighter than I was at my all time highest weight in Nov 2010. I have gone from a size 12 to a size 4.
Today I experienced another proud moment. I bought skinny jeans for the first time EVER. I tried them on, stared in the mirror, and thought... this is one of the best feelings ever... I never thought in a million years I would be able to fit in them. I didn't even want to take my eyes off the mirror cause I was so happy with what I saw... it was like true love for me. I have not been this weight since I was 14, and never thought I would be again. I have always always dreamed of this day.
This makes sobering up a million times harder. I don't want to gain ANY of that weight back.... none of it.... not even a pound. I ate normal food today and the feeling is just sitting in me... I know the number on the scale is higher, I can feel it... I hate even thinking about it cause I don't want to know the number... there is that little voice in my head that says just purge you will feel so much better... the other part says don't do it, because you know all it takes is one time to head down that road as well. As much as I hate it, I am listening to the second voice. I have always taken the easy way out... and it's so hard to try not to. I don't even want to know how much damage I have done to my body at this point.
When you have an eating disorder, you never see yourself the way the rest of the world sees you. We have a distorted body image that never looks skinny enough to us... even when people tell me I look skinny, and I feel skinny, I will never feel as skinny as the outside sees. This is why it is so easy to get sucked into these diseases.. the voices in my head tell me two different things, and it's hard to fight off the bad voice for the good, when you know the bad one is the easy way out....
However, I'm willing to give it my best shot.
.
For as long as I can remember, I have hated the person staring back at me. I've always had little to no self esteem... I've always felt the need to be perfect. Obviously as I've gotten older it's not gotten any better, and became worse as I started putting on more weight. With the schedule I used to have, I was working till midnight, so I was always eating dinner and snacking late at night, then going right to bed. In November 2010 ( after a month of being sober), I was at my all time highest weight ever (with the exception of when I was pregnant). I was ridiculously depressed at that point, and I felt just plain fat. I couldn't take it anymore. I started changing my diet a bit and doing at least a mile on my treadmill every night. I lost 7 lbs before I got pregnant in February.
Gaining weight when I was pregnant didn't bother me.. I knew it was because of a baby, not just me getting fat. I gained 39 lbs during my pregnancy, and within 2 months of my son being born I was back to the original weight I had before having him. The weight just came off without much effort, some people apparently just lose their baby weight quickly, and I was lucky enough to be one of them. I did have a relapse with bulimia a few months after that.. sobered up, then had another relapse. I was maybe 10 lbs lighter after that. I still hated what I saw.
After my grandmother passed away last year, the anorexia battle began a few months later. I blame the original start of that relapse on stress. However I was going to Florida in November, and I was determined to fit back into the bikini I had worn on our honeymoon in 09... it was downhill from there. I started to lose weight, and that was when I was finally starting to gain some self esteem. I just wanted to be skinny... and I was starting to get there. I would weigh myself twice a day, sometimes 3 times. Loved how quick I was dropping that weight... and the pant size I was then in was like a miracle to me.
I myself realized it was becoming a problem when I went to the doctors in August 2013, and they weighed me. I saw the number and told the nurse something was wrong with the scale, that that number was weigh too high. That was when I started to see the skeleton and starting working on sobering up. I did gain a few pounds back during that time.
I only had about a 3 month window before this relapse. I had something I was struggling to cope with, so that was how it started again. I had a member of my family at Christmas time who said I had lost a lot of weight, and asked if I was ok, to which I obviously replied yes. I sure wasn't going to admit it.
Since then, I have obviously lost more weight. As much as I want to sober up for good (hopefully) this time, I have finally started to like the person staring back at me. Being able to fit into the pant size I dreamed about is still shocking to me. I love looking at myself in the mirror with those jeans on.... I finally see the skinny girl there. I know a lot of people think I look too thin, but I just want to lose a few more... then I will be at the exact number on the scale that I want. I weigh myself every day still... and I refuse to weigh more than a certain number. If I do, I start to hate myself again. I am now 42 lbs lighter than I was at my all time highest weight in Nov 2010. I have gone from a size 12 to a size 4.
Today I experienced another proud moment. I bought skinny jeans for the first time EVER. I tried them on, stared in the mirror, and thought... this is one of the best feelings ever... I never thought in a million years I would be able to fit in them. I didn't even want to take my eyes off the mirror cause I was so happy with what I saw... it was like true love for me. I have not been this weight since I was 14, and never thought I would be again. I have always always dreamed of this day.
This makes sobering up a million times harder. I don't want to gain ANY of that weight back.... none of it.... not even a pound. I ate normal food today and the feeling is just sitting in me... I know the number on the scale is higher, I can feel it... I hate even thinking about it cause I don't want to know the number... there is that little voice in my head that says just purge you will feel so much better... the other part says don't do it, because you know all it takes is one time to head down that road as well. As much as I hate it, I am listening to the second voice. I have always taken the easy way out... and it's so hard to try not to. I don't even want to know how much damage I have done to my body at this point.
When you have an eating disorder, you never see yourself the way the rest of the world sees you. We have a distorted body image that never looks skinny enough to us... even when people tell me I look skinny, and I feel skinny, I will never feel as skinny as the outside sees. This is why it is so easy to get sucked into these diseases.. the voices in my head tell me two different things, and it's hard to fight off the bad voice for the good, when you know the bad one is the easy way out....
However, I'm willing to give it my best shot.
.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
The family that wasn't.
A few people have questioned as to why my family knows none of what's going on. Other than 2 of my cousins, everyone else is clueless. I have several reasons why:
I have a very judgemental family....
I have never had a close relationship with any of my family... with the exception of my grandmother. Since she passed, I have no one. But that doesn't mean I haven't tried.
I've always felt like that black sheep in the family (my mothers side). I was the one who barely graduated high school, didn't go to college, and spent my time working in a grocery store. My cousins had gone on to college and everyone was so proud of what they had done. I never "fit in" with the way the rest of the family was. However, I will say that my grandmother told me constantly up until she died, that she was proud of me. That I will always hold onto.
I've never had a very good relationship with my parents. When one of my friends caught me purging at 13, the school ended up calling my mother what was going on. I remember her and my stepdad came up to my room and basically said cut the shit or we will send you away to a hospital. Then they shut the door, went back downstairs and it was never talked about again. So I just learned to hide it better. My dad and my stepmom never knew. At the time I was already seeing a therapist, but didn't really think it was a big deal.... I was only 13. Too young to know where it would lead...
I had talked to both of my aunts what was going on at the time, back when we had a close relationship. One of my aunts (we'll call her #1) had called my mother to talk to her about ways to help me, and talk to her about it. My mother told her to mind her own business... and I just learned a few months ago that she didn't speak to #1 for 2 years over this. I now know she really did take away the only person who tried to help me. From then on, it was me on my own. I don't understand as a parent why you wouldn't want to do anything and everything to help your child when they need you.
A few months before my grandmother passed away, #1 came to visit, and I reached out to her, in an attempt to try and rebuild the relationship we'd had when I was younger. I wrote her an email explaining everything (minus the eating disorders), and we started to rebuild the relationship I had hoped for. Around that same time, my therapist was suggesting I talk to my mother about me having bipolar. I was resistant, but figured I would give it a shot. I remember telling her there was something someone wanted me to tell her and she said who and I said "My therapist". She just looked at me when I said I had Bipolar and responded with... "That's why you're so moody all the time". That was it. End of discussion. Never brought up again.
After my grandmother passed away I reached out to aunt #2, in hopes I could rebuild the relationship I had with her as well. I wrote her a letter explaining everything, and about how I was looking for more support. I got a letter back, and basically it was all about her, and her stress, what she was going thru... she barely acknowledged what I had to say. However, I made a second attempt. The response to that one was that building a relationship takes time, and to lets see where it goes, but that she couldn't guarantee I would even want one with her. I replied with that if we both wanted it and put the effort in, we could go with the "let's try". That was in September. I never got a response. It bothered me at first, but now I look at it as she didn't want to try to have a relationship with me. I hear from #1 every now and then, when it's convenient for her. Not how I had hoped things would turn out.
I don't have supportive parents. They never really showed that they loved me, they just bought me stuff instead. I now know you can't replace love with material possessions. They weren't there for me. I spent so many of my teenage years sitting in my room crying... alone. I know my mother and I will never have a relationship other than the one that is based around my son. That hope of ever having a mother/daughter relationship was thrown out the window a long time ago. Now being a parent myself, I hug, kiss, and tell my son a million times a day how much I love him, because I know what it's like to not have that. I want him to know that no matter what he can always come to me for absolutely anything, and I will do everything and anything I can to help him... there is nothing in this world I wouldn't do for him! Mom will always be his #1 Fan :)
My therapist suggested I reach out to someone else in my family. So if I had to choose, it would be my middle sister (most people know I'm the oldest of 3 girls... we all have the same father, I have a different mother). I told my sister several years ago, however I'm sure she has no idea it's still going on. Honestly I don't think I will even tell her. I just would rather not.
Do I wish I had a supportive family? Of course. However, I just don't see that ever happening. I just feel like there is only so much effort you can put into something before you realize it's just not worth it anymore. At this point I see it as... It is what it is.
PS. This is not one of my better ones. The deep writing will resume tomorrow.
I have a very judgemental family....
I have never had a close relationship with any of my family... with the exception of my grandmother. Since she passed, I have no one. But that doesn't mean I haven't tried.
I've always felt like that black sheep in the family (my mothers side). I was the one who barely graduated high school, didn't go to college, and spent my time working in a grocery store. My cousins had gone on to college and everyone was so proud of what they had done. I never "fit in" with the way the rest of the family was. However, I will say that my grandmother told me constantly up until she died, that she was proud of me. That I will always hold onto.
I've never had a very good relationship with my parents. When one of my friends caught me purging at 13, the school ended up calling my mother what was going on. I remember her and my stepdad came up to my room and basically said cut the shit or we will send you away to a hospital. Then they shut the door, went back downstairs and it was never talked about again. So I just learned to hide it better. My dad and my stepmom never knew. At the time I was already seeing a therapist, but didn't really think it was a big deal.... I was only 13. Too young to know where it would lead...
I had talked to both of my aunts what was going on at the time, back when we had a close relationship. One of my aunts (we'll call her #1) had called my mother to talk to her about ways to help me, and talk to her about it. My mother told her to mind her own business... and I just learned a few months ago that she didn't speak to #1 for 2 years over this. I now know she really did take away the only person who tried to help me. From then on, it was me on my own. I don't understand as a parent why you wouldn't want to do anything and everything to help your child when they need you.
A few months before my grandmother passed away, #1 came to visit, and I reached out to her, in an attempt to try and rebuild the relationship we'd had when I was younger. I wrote her an email explaining everything (minus the eating disorders), and we started to rebuild the relationship I had hoped for. Around that same time, my therapist was suggesting I talk to my mother about me having bipolar. I was resistant, but figured I would give it a shot. I remember telling her there was something someone wanted me to tell her and she said who and I said "My therapist". She just looked at me when I said I had Bipolar and responded with... "That's why you're so moody all the time". That was it. End of discussion. Never brought up again.
After my grandmother passed away I reached out to aunt #2, in hopes I could rebuild the relationship I had with her as well. I wrote her a letter explaining everything, and about how I was looking for more support. I got a letter back, and basically it was all about her, and her stress, what she was going thru... she barely acknowledged what I had to say. However, I made a second attempt. The response to that one was that building a relationship takes time, and to lets see where it goes, but that she couldn't guarantee I would even want one with her. I replied with that if we both wanted it and put the effort in, we could go with the "let's try". That was in September. I never got a response. It bothered me at first, but now I look at it as she didn't want to try to have a relationship with me. I hear from #1 every now and then, when it's convenient for her. Not how I had hoped things would turn out.
I don't have supportive parents. They never really showed that they loved me, they just bought me stuff instead. I now know you can't replace love with material possessions. They weren't there for me. I spent so many of my teenage years sitting in my room crying... alone. I know my mother and I will never have a relationship other than the one that is based around my son. That hope of ever having a mother/daughter relationship was thrown out the window a long time ago. Now being a parent myself, I hug, kiss, and tell my son a million times a day how much I love him, because I know what it's like to not have that. I want him to know that no matter what he can always come to me for absolutely anything, and I will do everything and anything I can to help him... there is nothing in this world I wouldn't do for him! Mom will always be his #1 Fan :)
My therapist suggested I reach out to someone else in my family. So if I had to choose, it would be my middle sister (most people know I'm the oldest of 3 girls... we all have the same father, I have a different mother). I told my sister several years ago, however I'm sure she has no idea it's still going on. Honestly I don't think I will even tell her. I just would rather not.
Do I wish I had a supportive family? Of course. However, I just don't see that ever happening. I just feel like there is only so much effort you can put into something before you realize it's just not worth it anymore. At this point I see it as... It is what it is.
PS. This is not one of my better ones. The deep writing will resume tomorrow.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
When it comes to making a big change in your life, you have to want it more than you fear it.
That is the truth. I don't want them to be a part of my life anymore... but I don't know what life is like without them. Something that has controlled so much of my life... it's scary to let go of, even when I know deep down that's what I have to do... but I have to want it.
I don't know what it's like to not have them as a fall back, because I always have. I need that control, I need that feeling, that rush. We all think about the things we don't think we can live without.... unfortunately for me this is one of them. I feel like I will be missing a part of myself, a part that I need. After 16 years, I don't know anything different. I really am terrified to know what life is like without them.
I want to walk away sober this time... permanently. I can't count how many times I've told myself that, yet it never is. I'm trying to be optimistic, but I know this is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done.... no step is easy. I don't know how to let them go... I feel like once I lose them I won't know who I am anymore. I know the road ahead of me is long, believe me, I get that. And I don't know if I'm ready to face it. Anytime I have something triggering in my life that I don't know how to cope with... there they are, waiting for me.
There is nothing like the satisfaction of trying on jeans and finally fitting into the size I have always wanted. It makes these diseases harder to part with. Standing in that fitting room, I have never felt so much accomplishment. It was an amazing feeling to know I got to where I wanted to be, that I don't have to dream about it anymore, that my perfect size is now hanging in my closet, all 3 pairs of them. These diseases are what got me here. Was it the way to go? No. However like I've said before, it's so easy to get sucked back in... because it's all I know. And I'm terrified of gaining any of the weight back.
As much as I have felt like I have been a disappointment to people, I think deep down, I'm a disappointment to myself. This isn't what my life was supposed to be like... at all. Yet, it is.
I have to want this for myself. Do I wish someone had a magic wand to fix this for me? Absolutely. But that isn't the case. No one can do this for me. I wish I hadn't made the decisions I did at 14. If I could go back and change it, believe me, I would. I had no idea that from then on these diseases would control my life, and that I would be where I am right now. But I can't go back, I can only move forward in hopes I can look back one day and say " That's right, I kicked those bitches asses to the curb" :)
I wish I wouldn't have to face the road that I know lies in front of me. I know this is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done... I really don't know how hard is, but I'm sure its harder than I think. I start to cry just thinking about it because a part of me says, don't let them go.... I don't know how to not run back. It's so easy to do. I am scared. I don't know what this is going to be like this time. I've never had the strong support system before like I do now, so I tell myself maybe it won't be quite as hard as I think... but until I face it head on, I don't know what anything is going to be like. I see many meltdowns in my future. Be prepared.
I know what the next step is, what my starting point is from here. I need to find outlets, other coping skills I can turn to instead. I am not someone who can handle stressful situations well... at all. My first outlet would be shopping. However, I can only use that in moderation, as most people know that quick fix has dug me into some pretty deep debt in the past. The last thing I need is to go thru that all over again. My next choice would be writing (obviously), scrapbooking, and I have added reading to my list. It's a start. Maybe as time goes by I will add others to the mix.
I don't only need to do this for me... I need to do this for my son. He may be little now, but I don't want this to affect his life, I don't want this to be something he grows up being around... because he doesn't deserve that. So I'm really going to give it my all this time... for me, and for him.
I don't know what it's like to not have them as a fall back, because I always have. I need that control, I need that feeling, that rush. We all think about the things we don't think we can live without.... unfortunately for me this is one of them. I feel like I will be missing a part of myself, a part that I need. After 16 years, I don't know anything different. I really am terrified to know what life is like without them.
I want to walk away sober this time... permanently. I can't count how many times I've told myself that, yet it never is. I'm trying to be optimistic, but I know this is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done.... no step is easy. I don't know how to let them go... I feel like once I lose them I won't know who I am anymore. I know the road ahead of me is long, believe me, I get that. And I don't know if I'm ready to face it. Anytime I have something triggering in my life that I don't know how to cope with... there they are, waiting for me.
There is nothing like the satisfaction of trying on jeans and finally fitting into the size I have always wanted. It makes these diseases harder to part with. Standing in that fitting room, I have never felt so much accomplishment. It was an amazing feeling to know I got to where I wanted to be, that I don't have to dream about it anymore, that my perfect size is now hanging in my closet, all 3 pairs of them. These diseases are what got me here. Was it the way to go? No. However like I've said before, it's so easy to get sucked back in... because it's all I know. And I'm terrified of gaining any of the weight back.
As much as I have felt like I have been a disappointment to people, I think deep down, I'm a disappointment to myself. This isn't what my life was supposed to be like... at all. Yet, it is.
I have to want this for myself. Do I wish someone had a magic wand to fix this for me? Absolutely. But that isn't the case. No one can do this for me. I wish I hadn't made the decisions I did at 14. If I could go back and change it, believe me, I would. I had no idea that from then on these diseases would control my life, and that I would be where I am right now. But I can't go back, I can only move forward in hopes I can look back one day and say " That's right, I kicked those bitches asses to the curb" :)
I wish I wouldn't have to face the road that I know lies in front of me. I know this is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done... I really don't know how hard is, but I'm sure its harder than I think. I start to cry just thinking about it because a part of me says, don't let them go.... I don't know how to not run back. It's so easy to do. I am scared. I don't know what this is going to be like this time. I've never had the strong support system before like I do now, so I tell myself maybe it won't be quite as hard as I think... but until I face it head on, I don't know what anything is going to be like. I see many meltdowns in my future. Be prepared.
I know what the next step is, what my starting point is from here. I need to find outlets, other coping skills I can turn to instead. I am not someone who can handle stressful situations well... at all. My first outlet would be shopping. However, I can only use that in moderation, as most people know that quick fix has dug me into some pretty deep debt in the past. The last thing I need is to go thru that all over again. My next choice would be writing (obviously), scrapbooking, and I have added reading to my list. It's a start. Maybe as time goes by I will add others to the mix.
I don't only need to do this for me... I need to do this for my son. He may be little now, but I don't want this to affect his life, I don't want this to be something he grows up being around... because he doesn't deserve that. So I'm really going to give it my all this time... for me, and for him.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Stop beating yourself up. You are a work in progress. Which means you get there a little at a time, not all at once.
Since revealing this, I have felt like I am nothing but one big disappointment. I was on the phone with my best friend yesterday crying over how I feel like I'm letting everyone around me down. She has gone thru 6 years of this with me, and said she will never give up on me. But that doesn't change the feeling. However I have been reassured by several people that I shouldn't feel that way, and that I am definitely not.... I guess that is somewhat a relief. I have learned I can't have anyone in my life who brings negativity to the situation cause all that will do is bring me down. I beat myself up enough that I don't need anything else weighing me down.
The first step was taking the huge leap out of my comfort zone and revealing the private battle, in hopes of finding some support, which I definitely have found. I need to take some smaller steps now. There are so many emotions and so much build up that comes along with this disease, it's beyond overwhelming for me... and alot of it is kept strictly between my therapist and myself. I have always had major trust issues.
However, I'm learning that it's hard for people to help me if they don't know what I'm thinking or feeling... so the next step out of my comfort zone is to work on that. I have reached a point in my life where I have become a pretty good judge of character and think I have felt out the "safe" people. I have a few that fit into that category... I have become trusting enough to know that anything I say is kept just between me and the other person. That in itself is a huge comfort to me knowing I have that, and I have released a lot of feelings and emotions spread out over those few people, and just let it all flow. I'm sure it makes them feel good knowing they can give me that safety net... and can help me with whatever is bothering me once I start letting it out. I still have a bit of a filter on me, but I think everyone does.
What is the next step for me... where do I go from here? I have made 2 big steps out of my comfort zone. I feel over whelmed... I feel like maybe the next step needs to be a smaller one... which I'm still questioning what that may be. I feel from here is where I begin to feel lost. I know I will get there a little at a time... like someone told me... this didn't happen overnight, and it's not going to be fixed overnight, it takes work. There are so many pieces to the puzzle for me... and I have a few together. I know I need to dig deeper into the root of my empty feeling... cause quite honestly I'm beginning to think there is more to it then even I know.
The physical part of this disease is obviously the other main issue. Everyone tells me I look thin, some too thin, but of course I don't see what they see. I know it's a problem... I see how knee deep in shit I am right now. However I see the numbers and I say just a few more. And of course my empty need feeling just rolls with it. I was actually confronted by someone today who said they think I have a problem... obviously I'm not going to admit it and quite honestly its something I wouldn't say to someone.
I know this is a long process... and I have that long road ahead of me. But I will get there a little at a time... After all, I am a work in progress.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Only I can change my life. No one can do it for me.
I know that no one can do this for me. I have a strong support system that I know can help me, but no one can just wave a magic wand and fix it. I don't know what I did to deserve all these amazing people to walk into my life. But one of my favorite quotes is "Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Others leave footprints on our hearts and we are never ever the same". Very fitting!
Having an eating disorder is an addiction... or a sickness, however you want to look at it. The easiest way to explain it is... A heroin addict needs heroin, an alcoholic needs beer, and someone with an eating disorder needs the empty feeling. That's generally how I describe it to make people understand it, then it usually makes sense to them. It's the same thing, just different situations.
I've always turned back to them. Always. They are the one thing that has always been there for me my whole life. They are a part of me. Being Bipolar does not make things any easier. I will always be moodier than the average person. When I'm manic, life is fantastic, everything is perfect, I'm on top of the world. However, coming down from the mania is a different story... sometimes it's a slow decline... other times it's a crash. I dread being manic, because I know it will always be the calm before the storm.... unfortunately it's normal. I don't experience it nearly as bad because of medication.. but it still happens sometimes, and I've learned for me, that's just my life... there's no running from that... it isn't something I can change... its chemical based.
So when I'm on a really bad low that lasts for a long stretch of time (several weeks, sometimes a month, and sometimes longer), it's so easy to get sucked back in to needing that empty feeling. I don't have stretches like that very often, but when they hit, they hit hard. When I feel depressed, I feel empty (like most people do). However for me when I feel empty emotionally, I need to be empty physically too. Feeling completely empty is a high... I feel completely numb. I love it, and I can drop weight like water... it's amazing for me. However the longer the depression lasts... the longer I need that. And even when I pull myself out of it, sometimes... I still need the empty feeling.
So how do I change this? I'm trying to convince myself that I don't need them anymore... those demons that rule my life. However, they overpower me. Bottom line is, I don't know what life is like without them. I feel like they are a part of my identity...I don't know who I am otherwise. When I get sober, I always tell myself I'm not going to relapse again, but I hit the point where I miss the feeling so much that I need to go back... because I have dealt with this for half of my life. I try so hard to tell myself those demons really are the enemy...but no one can take the demons out of me. They can help me try to see past them, to fight them off, to tackle them with me. But ultimately it's me that has to fight them for good. But how do I let go of something that is such a big part of me?
Having an eating disorder is an addiction... or a sickness, however you want to look at it. The easiest way to explain it is... A heroin addict needs heroin, an alcoholic needs beer, and someone with an eating disorder needs the empty feeling. That's generally how I describe it to make people understand it, then it usually makes sense to them. It's the same thing, just different situations.
I've always turned back to them. Always. They are the one thing that has always been there for me my whole life. They are a part of me. Being Bipolar does not make things any easier. I will always be moodier than the average person. When I'm manic, life is fantastic, everything is perfect, I'm on top of the world. However, coming down from the mania is a different story... sometimes it's a slow decline... other times it's a crash. I dread being manic, because I know it will always be the calm before the storm.... unfortunately it's normal. I don't experience it nearly as bad because of medication.. but it still happens sometimes, and I've learned for me, that's just my life... there's no running from that... it isn't something I can change... its chemical based.
So when I'm on a really bad low that lasts for a long stretch of time (several weeks, sometimes a month, and sometimes longer), it's so easy to get sucked back in to needing that empty feeling. I don't have stretches like that very often, but when they hit, they hit hard. When I feel depressed, I feel empty (like most people do). However for me when I feel empty emotionally, I need to be empty physically too. Feeling completely empty is a high... I feel completely numb. I love it, and I can drop weight like water... it's amazing for me. However the longer the depression lasts... the longer I need that. And even when I pull myself out of it, sometimes... I still need the empty feeling.
So how do I change this? I'm trying to convince myself that I don't need them anymore... those demons that rule my life. However, they overpower me. Bottom line is, I don't know what life is like without them. I feel like they are a part of my identity...I don't know who I am otherwise. When I get sober, I always tell myself I'm not going to relapse again, but I hit the point where I miss the feeling so much that I need to go back... because I have dealt with this for half of my life. I try so hard to tell myself those demons really are the enemy...but no one can take the demons out of me. They can help me try to see past them, to fight them off, to tackle them with me. But ultimately it's me that has to fight them for good. But how do I let go of something that is such a big part of me?
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Sometimes in life we just need someone who will be there for us. Someone who will listen. Someone who will understand us.
I know the road ahead of me is long. It's like a road that goes for hundreds of miles... There will be some detours, potholes, and probably a few wrong turns as well... but getting back on the main road is possible. There will be bumps, but a bump in the road is never the end of the road. The bumps may be frequent, but towards the end it's paved. Getting to the end takes a long time... it may be never ending, but I have several people who want to take the drive with me to see if we can find the end together.
I've always felt very alone in this battle. Mostly my own choice because I never knew how people would react. I let a few in and they ended up walking out (for different reasons). I have an extremely tiny support system and quite honestly I even have a hard time talking to them because I don't think they really understand... and I think they have basically just given up on me... With the exception of one, who feels completely helpless at this point. So it's basically just been me on my own with my therapist, who supports me 100%. However I still felt so alone in this, I decided I needed to reach out to others, even if it meant leaving some of them beyond shocked that this was going on. Best thing I ever did.
I now have an amazingly strong support system, and that is exactly what I need... and I am eternally grateful for all of them.
They are all by my side, assuring me that I'm not going thru this by myself, which is a huge relief for me, since I've always felt so alone in this battle. .. but not anymore. Each and every one of them will do anything they can to help me. Even if it's just to listen, I know I have multiple ears open and shoulders to cry on.... they have all given me the open door policy. They have come together as a team... makes me emotional when I think of how many people love and care about me and don't look at me differently or judge me. Now I wonder what I would do without any of them. It's relieving to know if I do fall... There are so many people to catch me. And none of them are willing to give up on me... they won't let me lose!
I have one person who just gets me... and that has never ever happened before with anyone other than my therapist... I never expected it... I hope she knows what she has done for me! It truly is a great feeling to open up and just let my guard down completely and have no fear knowing she completely understands and loves me just for being me!
Another we have had a rocky road at times... but she has never ever judged me for anything I've done and has always been one of the most supportive people in my life and a great motivater. She has seen me go down this road before...She always believes in me. and is the one who suggested I take this step in the first place. I know when push comes to shove she loves me and would do anything for me. So glad we were able to start over again.... life is too short :)
Another who has known me for what feels like forever, she has watched me grow up for the past 15 yrs. I wish I had reached out to her sooner, but better late then never. She has always been a great listener. I know she will always be there for me. She has so much faith in me and loves me so much. To her, I'll always be her little girl :)
Then there's the one who has had the hardest time with this... she loves me so much and she has been thru this with me before, and it was hard for her then. All I wanted was for her to understand and be there for me... and no matter how many times I tried to talk to her about it, I couldn't which was really hard. After a long talk, she now 100% is on board... and says no matter what we will get thru this together ;)
Im sure each one of you know who you are :)
There are so many other supportive people I have, I can't list them all... but each and every one of them is amazing. I know that no matter what happens, so many people are ready to take the ride with me....
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Before healing a wound, you must first admit that you are bleeding.
I took a huge step out of my comfort zone with my last blog, with the amount of people I sent it to. I've always been a closed off person. However I was tired of living in a bubble and hiding who I really am. I wasn't sure what kind of responses I would get... and was hesitant sending it to as many people as I did. I am so glad I did it.... the amount of positive feedback I've gotten is overwhelming... I had no idea I had so many supportive people in my life! And some responses were so touching I was left in tears. I have so many people who love me, want to be there for me, and help in anyway they can. I am thankful for each and every one of the cheerleaders in my life. Going public with such a private battle isn't easy... however I do think it is the best thing for me.
A lot of people now know I have an eating disorder.... and quite honestly it doesn't bother me. It doesn't change the person I am, I am the same as before people knew. My most recent relapse with anorexia started to happen right around Christmas. I felt it coming... and before I know it, in the blink of an eye the demon takes over. I didn't have a very long sober period between my last relapse. I relapsed in March, and I sobered up mid September, so this time I only had about a 3 month window before this relapse. However that March relapse was the worst one ever.... I just completely lost it...and I just didn't care.
Last year was a very difficult year for me... one of the most important people in my life, who I loved more than anything, my grandmother, passed away February 16th, on her oldest great grandchild's 8th birthday. The few months leading up to her death were very rough... she was in the hospital I think 5 times in a 2 month period. Her last trip she decided she didn't want to go thru it anymore... she had emphysema and CHF... she didn't want to take any medication anymore... she was ready to go to heaven to see my uncle, as she put it. so my aunt bought a one way ticket from Florida to stay with her. She came home on a Saturday.. I brought Andrew over for the last time on Sunday and watching her say goodbye to him was the hardest moment of my entire life ( I just sobbed typing this). It broke me knowing she would never see him again. That night, I started working on the memory boards for her funeral.... I'm Michelle, I have to be prepared for everything. On that Monday, she had her sudden burst of energy (which apparently you get before you die)... her, my aunt, my mother and myself were sitting at her dining room table laughing all night going thru all our favorite memories. I remember her joking around what day she should die haha. I told her that Thursday wasn't a good day cause it was wills birthday... " she said Thursday??? I better be dead by then!". I remember telling her I loved her and would miss her... and I remember her saying the same, and also that she had to go, she just couldn't do it anymore. I left there laughing crying at the same time... knowing that was probably the last time I would see her. I called my aunt in the morning and asked how she was... my grandma's response in the background.. "Tell her I'm busy scratching my tickets. I woke up and said why am I not dead?!" There was still some humor there. I went over that night and she and I were watching Wheel of Fortune and she got the puzzle before I did.. "I said how do you always get these before I do". She said, "Because I'm older and smarter."
That was the last conversation I ever had with her. All she did from that night on was sleep. I would go every day and watch her sleep.... my mother didn't understand why I was doing that to myself... but I needed to do it for me. Fast forward to Saturday.. I remember calling my aunt and telling her that when she woke up she needed to tell her my refinancing on my house went thru. I got out of work and went over and watched her sleep for a little while, then left. I went to my mothers that night and as I was leaving, the phone rang... I just knew. I would never see her again. I spent the entire night up crying. Surprisingly I went to work the next day and was perfectly fine... until I got out of work and found out my mother and both my aunts were cleaning out her apartment. Not even 24 hours later. I was beyond a mess.
I went over there the next day when I got out of work to find my aunts packing up the rest of her stuff... not even 48 hrs later her stuff was packed. I rememeber walking in the door and breaking down and saying "Why are you getting rid of her stuff, why are you doing this"... as I started ripping bags open. When I went back the next day, I asked everyone to leave cause I wanted to be there by myself. Everyone was reluctant, but I flat out told them to get out and leave me alone. I knew it was the last time I would be inside her apartment. I sat there for hours, crying. And then I left for the very last time.
I cried a lot leading up to her funereal. I did the eulogy... it was always something I wanted to do. Then like that, it was over. My aunt flew back home, and everyone else went back to their normal lives like nothing had happened. Except me. I cried for hours every day for weeks. I would cry on my way to work, on my way home, before I went to bed at night. Literally everything made me fall apart... even things like cutting coupons and seeing stuff she would buy would make me lose it. It even got to the point where I had to change my normal Monday work shift because I couldn't even stand to be there when the van that took them grocery shopping was there because she normally would have been on it.... I couldn't go in that building till the van was gone.
Mid March, I just completely lost it. I just didn't care about anything anymore, I felt like my life was over. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep... I was just rock bottom depressed. And the demon took over and down spiraled me from there. I dropped weight like it was water. And I loved what I was seeing. All I kept thinking was... just a few more pounds, just a few more... and well we know where it went from there.
I call eating disorders demons because that is what they are. They aren't my friend... they are my enemy. However, having battled both, they are my fall back. If one doesn't satisfy me I turn to the other. When I feel as low as I do right now... I feel like there is no where I can go except up. However, I feel like im stuck between a rock and a hard place. I know I need to let it go, but at the same time, I'm scared to rise. I'm scared to get sober, but I'm scared of relapse. I don't want this to be a part of my life anymore.... but how do you let go of something that has been apart of you for as long as you can remember? Thinking I know where my therapy session is going in the morning....
A lot of people now know I have an eating disorder.... and quite honestly it doesn't bother me. It doesn't change the person I am, I am the same as before people knew. My most recent relapse with anorexia started to happen right around Christmas. I felt it coming... and before I know it, in the blink of an eye the demon takes over. I didn't have a very long sober period between my last relapse. I relapsed in March, and I sobered up mid September, so this time I only had about a 3 month window before this relapse. However that March relapse was the worst one ever.... I just completely lost it...and I just didn't care.
Last year was a very difficult year for me... one of the most important people in my life, who I loved more than anything, my grandmother, passed away February 16th, on her oldest great grandchild's 8th birthday. The few months leading up to her death were very rough... she was in the hospital I think 5 times in a 2 month period. Her last trip she decided she didn't want to go thru it anymore... she had emphysema and CHF... she didn't want to take any medication anymore... she was ready to go to heaven to see my uncle, as she put it. so my aunt bought a one way ticket from Florida to stay with her. She came home on a Saturday.. I brought Andrew over for the last time on Sunday and watching her say goodbye to him was the hardest moment of my entire life ( I just sobbed typing this). It broke me knowing she would never see him again. That night, I started working on the memory boards for her funeral.... I'm Michelle, I have to be prepared for everything. On that Monday, she had her sudden burst of energy (which apparently you get before you die)... her, my aunt, my mother and myself were sitting at her dining room table laughing all night going thru all our favorite memories. I remember her joking around what day she should die haha. I told her that Thursday wasn't a good day cause it was wills birthday... " she said Thursday??? I better be dead by then!". I remember telling her I loved her and would miss her... and I remember her saying the same, and also that she had to go, she just couldn't do it anymore. I left there laughing crying at the same time... knowing that was probably the last time I would see her. I called my aunt in the morning and asked how she was... my grandma's response in the background.. "Tell her I'm busy scratching my tickets. I woke up and said why am I not dead?!" There was still some humor there. I went over that night and she and I were watching Wheel of Fortune and she got the puzzle before I did.. "I said how do you always get these before I do". She said, "Because I'm older and smarter."
That was the last conversation I ever had with her. All she did from that night on was sleep. I would go every day and watch her sleep.... my mother didn't understand why I was doing that to myself... but I needed to do it for me. Fast forward to Saturday.. I remember calling my aunt and telling her that when she woke up she needed to tell her my refinancing on my house went thru. I got out of work and went over and watched her sleep for a little while, then left. I went to my mothers that night and as I was leaving, the phone rang... I just knew. I would never see her again. I spent the entire night up crying. Surprisingly I went to work the next day and was perfectly fine... until I got out of work and found out my mother and both my aunts were cleaning out her apartment. Not even 24 hours later. I was beyond a mess.
I went over there the next day when I got out of work to find my aunts packing up the rest of her stuff... not even 48 hrs later her stuff was packed. I rememeber walking in the door and breaking down and saying "Why are you getting rid of her stuff, why are you doing this"... as I started ripping bags open. When I went back the next day, I asked everyone to leave cause I wanted to be there by myself. Everyone was reluctant, but I flat out told them to get out and leave me alone. I knew it was the last time I would be inside her apartment. I sat there for hours, crying. And then I left for the very last time.
I cried a lot leading up to her funereal. I did the eulogy... it was always something I wanted to do. Then like that, it was over. My aunt flew back home, and everyone else went back to their normal lives like nothing had happened. Except me. I cried for hours every day for weeks. I would cry on my way to work, on my way home, before I went to bed at night. Literally everything made me fall apart... even things like cutting coupons and seeing stuff she would buy would make me lose it. It even got to the point where I had to change my normal Monday work shift because I couldn't even stand to be there when the van that took them grocery shopping was there because she normally would have been on it.... I couldn't go in that building till the van was gone.
Mid March, I just completely lost it. I just didn't care about anything anymore, I felt like my life was over. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep... I was just rock bottom depressed. And the demon took over and down spiraled me from there. I dropped weight like it was water. And I loved what I was seeing. All I kept thinking was... just a few more pounds, just a few more... and well we know where it went from there.
I call eating disorders demons because that is what they are. They aren't my friend... they are my enemy. However, having battled both, they are my fall back. If one doesn't satisfy me I turn to the other. When I feel as low as I do right now... I feel like there is no where I can go except up. However, I feel like im stuck between a rock and a hard place. I know I need to let it go, but at the same time, I'm scared to rise. I'm scared to get sober, but I'm scared of relapse. I don't want this to be a part of my life anymore.... but how do you let go of something that has been apart of you for as long as you can remember? Thinking I know where my therapy session is going in the morning....
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Be Yourself. An original is worth more than a copy.
I intended to start a whole new blog to keep my past posts private... but for some reason I cannot so I will continue to use this one, which exposes a lot of my private past. However it is a part of me and I am not ashamed of who I am. I have been to hell and back. I have made mistakes, and continue to make them, But I am a fighter, and I will win. I am me.
I am generally a very private person when it comes to a lot of these things, but I'm planning to go public with my struggles since having a child and suffering severe postpartum, and am considering submitting this blog to a magazine, in hopes it will help other moms like me... the ones who are afraid to expose their situations and their struggles... the ones who feel alone. Because that was me. I lived it. I hid it all from the world. So here is my story.
I am a wife. I have Bipolar 1, MDD (Major Depressive Disorder), Borderline Personality Disorder, Severe Anxiety, and ADHD. I've also had an on/off battle with both eating disorders most of my life, one of which spiraled out of control this summer and almost left me hospitalized, and I am still struggling with it on a daily basis. But most importantly, above all else, I am a mom.
I now know that being a mom is the best thing ever. I never thought it was possible to love someone so much, until my son was born. I can't believe I made that perfect little person!
However, I didn't always feel that way. I feel like it was a tough struggle from the very beginning. I had a hard time getting pregnant... and it was hard to see all my friends having babies and that it wasn't happening for me. However when I least expected it, it happened! Mood wise, I felt amazing thru my entire pregnancy. The hormones that make people miserable were actually what balanced me out... so in that sense I would have loved being pregnant forever! When my son was born, everything changed. I only got to hold him for a minute after he was born, do to complications I had after giving birth... my doctor quoted it as "Worst vaginal delivery she had ever seen". Wish she had just given me the csection like I asked for!
My son was born November 2, 2011. I loved him instantly, but becoming a parent terrified me. I didn't know what to do when he cried... I didn't know anything... except that when he was a day old I was already crying. I thought the emotions were just that of becoming a new mom which happens all the time... however that wasn't my case.
I was crying constantly after we left the hospital. A lot of it was the fact that I have Bipolar so my emotions were naturally spinning out of control. But it was more than that. When my son was a week and a half old, it was quite obvious I was suffering from post partum. My therapist called my doctor right away and I was given a low dose of Prozac, the only thing I could take at the time cause I was still giving my son breastmilk. The medication did nothing for me, and even when I stopped pumping, she couldn't as a gynecologist give me anything stronger. So I stopped taking it. Then my son became colic... every parents worst nightmare. It was the longest three months of my life. He never stopped crying... unless he was eating or sleeping. He had to be held all the time because every time I would put him down he would scream... anything to avoid the crying I would do. I slept on the couch with him for the first 4 months of his life... its amazing how little sleep you learn to survive on! The day he turned three months old, he screamed all day... ALL DAY. The next day, we didn't have a day like that again... the colic was over! But I was still the same. I didn't enjoy being a mom at all.
Before I got pregnant, my therapist ( who I've now had for 3 1/2 years) was pushing me to see a psychiatrist to get meds, in hopes of me actually balancing out. I was resistant, and by the time I had finally agreed, I found out I was pregnant. However, after I stopped taking the Prozac, I continued to feel worse, but still wouldn't go see a psychiatrist. This depression continued to downspiral me for months... literally crying all the time, and I started purging again, the one thing I have always turned to for the empty feeling of relief. When my son was 6 months old, I gave in. I still after 6 months, didn't enjoy being a mom. I couldn't take it anymore, I knew I needed medication. In June 2012, I started seeing a psychiatrist who gave me a few different meds to start with. It took a few weeks for them to kick in, but I didn't feel much better. A few months later, she changed them, and I still felt the same. Fast forward 11 months later to May 2013. My post partum was still awful,.... I still didn't enjoy being a mom. the bipolar was thru the roof, and let's not even talk about the anxiety. I was already in yet another battle of anorexia ... and little did I know how bad it would be this time. I obviously wasn't feeling any better, so I decided it was time for a new psychiatrist. I was starting to enjoy being a mom, but not to where I knew it should be. My therapist knew someone who she said would be the perfect match for me, and let me tell you, when it comes to professionals, that is what you need. There has to be that personality match in which you either click or you don't. In the beginning of June 2013, I had my first appointment, and she was the perfect match for me! She actually kept me on the same medications I had, just lowered the dose of one and raised the dose on the other two.
Right around that time, anorexia really took over my life, but I didn't want to see it... no one with an eating disorder sees what the rest of the world sees. I just saw it as I didn't really have an appetite, and if I'm not hungry I'm not going to eat..... I was finally starting to love what I saw, and I was in love with the numbers on the scale. I was always tired, super moody (there's only so much medication can do when your body is being destroyed), and dizzy a lot of the time. I had multiple people express their concerns about my weight, to which I dismissed because I felt it wasn't their business. Most people think this disease is a choice... but it isn't. And there are so many emotions that go along with it. May, June, and July were by far the worst. I was weighing myself 3 times a day, sometimes more. I was living on cereal (which is actually the most common food among people with eating disorders I learned). The beginning of August, I looked in the mirror one day, and instead of seeing the girl I was beginning to love, I saw what was beginning to look like a skeleton. At that moment, I knew I needed help. I turned to the person who is my 2nd mom, when I knew I was in way over my head, and she said she was on the verge of confronting me about it herself. My husband had no idea what was going on till I finally told him, and when he saw me getting dressed he couldn't believe what he saw... he said this needed to stop and I needed to fix this and to do what I needed to do. So I started Seeing my therapist twice a week and it has helped me so much. By mid September, I was doing somewhat better. Its still very much a part of me, and I still freak out if I gain any weight, but I am working thru this issues in therapy. I am trying to take it day by day. If it weren't for my amazing therapist, I wouldn't be where I am today.
Around the same time, I felt like my medication was finally working... and I was starting to feel great! Amazing what a little change in doses of medication can do. October was by far the best month of my life! November had a lot of ups and downs, but December was great. January was a bit rocky, but with Bipolar, that is something that will always happen. One additional medication has been added, as I have recently been diagnosed with ADHD, and I can finally focus I like a real person. However, the hyper part is still there. Anyone who knows me knows I can't stand or sit still for more than 2 minutes ( I can't tell you how many times I have gotten up while writing this). Sorry everyone, it's probably never going to change!
I have gone thru all of these struggles and challenges all while being a mom. I lost practically a year and a half of my life... my sons first year and a half of life... being trapped in postpartum. yes being Bipolar amongst other issues were a contribution, but I could tell the difference between them. It saddens me that I missed out on so many moments of being a mom, but post partum isn't something you choose, it happens. I never thought this would happen to me, but it did, and I survived it, but it was a very long year and a half. I am so thankful to have the husband I do, who spent a lot of time being both parents to him when I couldn't handle it. I could not have gotten thru this without him.
I know there are moms out there like me... many of them. We don't choose post partum, it chooses us. I know I have faced many other challenges along the way, but post partum was the main one. So many feel alone in this battle, and don't think they should feel the way they do. But after living it firsthand, take the step towards getting help...it will be the best step you ever take. So many moms don't want to go public with their struggle, they are ashamed, or embarrassed, and they shouldn't be. there is nothing wrong with getting the help you need to enjoy being a mom, and being happy! I never planned to share my story, but if my story helps one mom, from going thru what I went thru, I know it's worth it.
I am generally a very private person when it comes to a lot of these things, but I'm planning to go public with my struggles since having a child and suffering severe postpartum, and am considering submitting this blog to a magazine, in hopes it will help other moms like me... the ones who are afraid to expose their situations and their struggles... the ones who feel alone. Because that was me. I lived it. I hid it all from the world. So here is my story.
I am a wife. I have Bipolar 1, MDD (Major Depressive Disorder), Borderline Personality Disorder, Severe Anxiety, and ADHD. I've also had an on/off battle with both eating disorders most of my life, one of which spiraled out of control this summer and almost left me hospitalized, and I am still struggling with it on a daily basis. But most importantly, above all else, I am a mom.
I now know that being a mom is the best thing ever. I never thought it was possible to love someone so much, until my son was born. I can't believe I made that perfect little person!
However, I didn't always feel that way. I feel like it was a tough struggle from the very beginning. I had a hard time getting pregnant... and it was hard to see all my friends having babies and that it wasn't happening for me. However when I least expected it, it happened! Mood wise, I felt amazing thru my entire pregnancy. The hormones that make people miserable were actually what balanced me out... so in that sense I would have loved being pregnant forever! When my son was born, everything changed. I only got to hold him for a minute after he was born, do to complications I had after giving birth... my doctor quoted it as "Worst vaginal delivery she had ever seen". Wish she had just given me the csection like I asked for!
My son was born November 2, 2011. I loved him instantly, but becoming a parent terrified me. I didn't know what to do when he cried... I didn't know anything... except that when he was a day old I was already crying. I thought the emotions were just that of becoming a new mom which happens all the time... however that wasn't my case.
I was crying constantly after we left the hospital. A lot of it was the fact that I have Bipolar so my emotions were naturally spinning out of control. But it was more than that. When my son was a week and a half old, it was quite obvious I was suffering from post partum. My therapist called my doctor right away and I was given a low dose of Prozac, the only thing I could take at the time cause I was still giving my son breastmilk. The medication did nothing for me, and even when I stopped pumping, she couldn't as a gynecologist give me anything stronger. So I stopped taking it. Then my son became colic... every parents worst nightmare. It was the longest three months of my life. He never stopped crying... unless he was eating or sleeping. He had to be held all the time because every time I would put him down he would scream... anything to avoid the crying I would do. I slept on the couch with him for the first 4 months of his life... its amazing how little sleep you learn to survive on! The day he turned three months old, he screamed all day... ALL DAY. The next day, we didn't have a day like that again... the colic was over! But I was still the same. I didn't enjoy being a mom at all.
Before I got pregnant, my therapist ( who I've now had for 3 1/2 years) was pushing me to see a psychiatrist to get meds, in hopes of me actually balancing out. I was resistant, and by the time I had finally agreed, I found out I was pregnant. However, after I stopped taking the Prozac, I continued to feel worse, but still wouldn't go see a psychiatrist. This depression continued to downspiral me for months... literally crying all the time, and I started purging again, the one thing I have always turned to for the empty feeling of relief. When my son was 6 months old, I gave in. I still after 6 months, didn't enjoy being a mom. I couldn't take it anymore, I knew I needed medication. In June 2012, I started seeing a psychiatrist who gave me a few different meds to start with. It took a few weeks for them to kick in, but I didn't feel much better. A few months later, she changed them, and I still felt the same. Fast forward 11 months later to May 2013. My post partum was still awful,.... I still didn't enjoy being a mom. the bipolar was thru the roof, and let's not even talk about the anxiety. I was already in yet another battle of anorexia ... and little did I know how bad it would be this time. I obviously wasn't feeling any better, so I decided it was time for a new psychiatrist. I was starting to enjoy being a mom, but not to where I knew it should be. My therapist knew someone who she said would be the perfect match for me, and let me tell you, when it comes to professionals, that is what you need. There has to be that personality match in which you either click or you don't. In the beginning of June 2013, I had my first appointment, and she was the perfect match for me! She actually kept me on the same medications I had, just lowered the dose of one and raised the dose on the other two.
Right around that time, anorexia really took over my life, but I didn't want to see it... no one with an eating disorder sees what the rest of the world sees. I just saw it as I didn't really have an appetite, and if I'm not hungry I'm not going to eat..... I was finally starting to love what I saw, and I was in love with the numbers on the scale. I was always tired, super moody (there's only so much medication can do when your body is being destroyed), and dizzy a lot of the time. I had multiple people express their concerns about my weight, to which I dismissed because I felt it wasn't their business. Most people think this disease is a choice... but it isn't. And there are so many emotions that go along with it. May, June, and July were by far the worst. I was weighing myself 3 times a day, sometimes more. I was living on cereal (which is actually the most common food among people with eating disorders I learned). The beginning of August, I looked in the mirror one day, and instead of seeing the girl I was beginning to love, I saw what was beginning to look like a skeleton. At that moment, I knew I needed help. I turned to the person who is my 2nd mom, when I knew I was in way over my head, and she said she was on the verge of confronting me about it herself. My husband had no idea what was going on till I finally told him, and when he saw me getting dressed he couldn't believe what he saw... he said this needed to stop and I needed to fix this and to do what I needed to do. So I started Seeing my therapist twice a week and it has helped me so much. By mid September, I was doing somewhat better. Its still very much a part of me, and I still freak out if I gain any weight, but I am working thru this issues in therapy. I am trying to take it day by day. If it weren't for my amazing therapist, I wouldn't be where I am today.
Around the same time, I felt like my medication was finally working... and I was starting to feel great! Amazing what a little change in doses of medication can do. October was by far the best month of my life! November had a lot of ups and downs, but December was great. January was a bit rocky, but with Bipolar, that is something that will always happen. One additional medication has been added, as I have recently been diagnosed with ADHD, and I can finally focus I like a real person. However, the hyper part is still there. Anyone who knows me knows I can't stand or sit still for more than 2 minutes ( I can't tell you how many times I have gotten up while writing this). Sorry everyone, it's probably never going to change!
I have gone thru all of these struggles and challenges all while being a mom. I lost practically a year and a half of my life... my sons first year and a half of life... being trapped in postpartum. yes being Bipolar amongst other issues were a contribution, but I could tell the difference between them. It saddens me that I missed out on so many moments of being a mom, but post partum isn't something you choose, it happens. I never thought this would happen to me, but it did, and I survived it, but it was a very long year and a half. I am so thankful to have the husband I do, who spent a lot of time being both parents to him when I couldn't handle it. I could not have gotten thru this without him.
I know there are moms out there like me... many of them. We don't choose post partum, it chooses us. I know I have faced many other challenges along the way, but post partum was the main one. So many feel alone in this battle, and don't think they should feel the way they do. But after living it firsthand, take the step towards getting help...it will be the best step you ever take. So many moms don't want to go public with their struggle, they are ashamed, or embarrassed, and they shouldn't be. there is nothing wrong with getting the help you need to enjoy being a mom, and being happy! I never planned to share my story, but if my story helps one mom, from going thru what I went thru, I know it's worth it.
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