Okay, so... it's been a million years since I updated this. I guess I should, as a decent bit has happened on the ED front. I've been updating semi-frequently on a forum I'm part of, and it would be easier for me to just crosspost some of those entries instead of writing a comprehensive update here, so I shall do that.

Could be triggering.


July 14th, 2009

I feel myself wavering. I am weak, and ED is strong. I am fat, and ED could make me thinner. I am too much, too wrong, and ED could take away my self -- all the things that make me wrong.

I'm not relapsing, exactly... yet. I think it could happen. I think it wants to happen. I'm not sure yet whether it's going to win and actually have it happen. What I do know is that part of me doesn't really care if it happens or it doesn't, because it believes that life is meaningless anyway, so why not self-destruct as much as I want? But the other part of me knows this is wrong, and knows that once I'm actually eating and getting proper nutrition consistently, a lot of life seems so much better, and I have the potential to be happier.

Maybe all this is just happening because I've been depressed lately. It's certain that my b/p urges get WAY stronger when I'm sad or lonely. I just don't know how to combat this sort of depression. It's the kind I've had off and on since I was 15 years old. How the heck am I supposed to defeat it?


July 24th, 2009

Trying to lose weight again. Last time I weighed myself at gym the scale said 123.2, but that's probably ~2 lbs higher than my home scale would say. I'll have my home scale back in a couple of weeks, anyway, but for now I can live with the gym scale. At least I'll know if I'm losing, even if I don't know my "real" (unclothed morning) weight.

I've been eating at least 800-900 calories a day, anyway (I try to stay around 1000-1100 if I can, although I failed to do so yesterday), and I've been going to the gym. I've gone twice already this week, and I'm planning to go again today right after lunch. Burned 210c Monday and 310c Tuesday. Am hoping for a number similar to Tuesday's today. The workout is a good one: 150c elliptical, 100-110 treadmill, and then 50c rowing machine. I want to work out all parts of my body, so I get generally toned all over. I don't want to be "skinny-fat" again like I was the last time I was a low weight. I want to actually look like I do some exercise. The exercise also lets me eat more calories and still lose weight, which I prefer, since it gives me a clearer head and more energy.

Leaving M House and moving into my new place in 1 week and 6 days. Should be interesting to see what happens when I'm buying my own groceries, and have my days entirely to myself. Hopefully I can at least hold it together enough to have some mental clarity and energy. I guess we shall find out.

Later addendum: I'm losing weight because it's the only thing keeping me sane right now. And I still feel fat. I'm not saying it's 100% healthy, but I NEED it right now, and I'm trying to do it as healthily as possible while still losing the weight I need to lose. It's not going to be possible to do it entirely the healthy way, but I'm doing the best I can at the moment. If that's not good, well, it's not good. I'm not fussy about whether it's objectively good or not atm. *shrug*


July 30th, 2009

Been going to the gym a decent bit lately, and trying to keep my food consumption down as much as possible without being super extreme / having my food restriction noticed by staff. My weight yesterday on gym scale was 121.0, which is okay, but still nowhere near good enough IMO. I still feel fat as hell. I look at myself and see fat fucking ALL over me. Stomach, love handles, thighs... I hate them all. Even my calves and my arms could use improvement.

I just do not like this body that I'm living in -- this weight that I am -- and I have to change it. The time to put it off has passed. It needs to happen now. I told myself so many times that I should try recovery... that I could lose weight later, later, later. Well, "later" is here, and fuck it if no one else likes that. I need this for ME, and I don't care what anyone else thinks anymore. Let them say what they like. This is my life, and my body, and I have to live in it, and I'll do whatever the fuck I want. And, well, I'm 23 years old... who can really stop me?


July 31st, 2009

So yesterday more than one person told me I'm starting to look "a little too skinny". Wtf? How the hell is 5'3.5' and around 120 lbs too skinny?? I just can't see it. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

I HAVE lost inches these last few weeks, and I can see that; but to me I'm finally, finally starting to look right. I can actually wear some fairly clingy shirts now without feeling like my fat rolls are popping out everywhere. I actually sort of have a waist now. Why is this such a bad thing? Why is it that all of a sudden I'm now "too skinny"?

I just don't fucking get it. The moment I'm small enough to start having a bit more confidence about my own body, people start making comments like this. Seriously... I really can't fucking win, can I?

*heavy sigh*

To this entry, a friend commented: "If these people know your history they're probably just worried about where things are going. Which is fair enough really."


August 1st, 2009

I know one of them knows my history, and I'm about 85% sure the other one does, which made it even more awkward :|. I felt really guilty about it. I still do. The problem is that I can't seem to stop. :S

Weighed myself "officially" today -- my scale is at my new place, and I spent the night there, so this morning I weighed nude, right after I peed. It said 117.4. I should have felt accomplished, or at least some kind of happiness/relief, but I didn't. It almost didn't mean a thing to me. I knew it would be a number like that, so it was a very "meh" kind of moment. I suppose it is validation, at least, that people's concerns are accurate, and maybe my weight is starting to get a little too low for my body type. Again, though, this doesn't seem to stop me.

Like, I just don't know what the fuck it's going to take to stop this shit. I was at the hospital today visiting my friend who's on psychiatry for her anorexia, and I actually saw another girl there who I met at residential who's also there for her anorexia, and it wasn't fun. Actually, neither of them were very happy, and it wasn't hard to tell. I myself have NO desire to be in hospital whatsoever. Yet I know that if I continue to restrict, exercise, lose weight, eventually I might be headed for that myself. So WHY can't I stop? WHY, when all my logic is telling me, "You really need to start eating and maintaining now" am I still clinging to this stupid shit?

The terror of food is coming back, too. I was at my aunt's last night for her retirement party, and it was like torture. I managed to get away with not eating most of what was on my plate, and it didn't look like anyone really noticed, but I can't be sure of that. And when my cousin came over to my sister's friend and told her about all the desserts, I sat for a few seconds more and then fled from the house. I could not stand the thought of eating dessert after having consumed all that unwanted supper food. I know it wasn't "that much" food objectively speaking, but it seemed like massive towering piles to me. I was just completely and utterly afraid.

WHY is this happening? Fuck me. Seriously.


August 4th, 2009

So I saw my GP today, and she's referring me to the ED clinic and also sending me for bloodwork. The slip had about a million items written on it. I remember offhand that they included CBC, blood sugars (as I have to fast from midnight) and some sort of urine thing. Urinalysis = fun times??

My weight on Sunday, at home, was 116.4. Weight @ gym was 119.6. I think this is a decent indication that my scale at home actually is calibrated right, despite the assertions I've made in my head to the contrary. Time to face up to facts: I'm losing weight, and I'm only about 9 lbs from my lowest maintained weight. What. The. Fuck.

Anyway, I guess it's not making any difference what I objectively weigh / look like, since I'm still planning for restriction. Had coffee & water for breakfast this morning, and it looks like water & gum is going to be my lunch. I'm purposely spending an hour at the library before going back to M House instead of going on the 11:00 bus, because I can say my appointment ran late (I said before I left that it might) and then I don't have to eat lunch at the house. I am fucking pathetic. And this is fucking pathetic.


August 12th, 2009

Weight today was 113.6. I've only eaten 140 food cals (20 more from cream in coffee), and as a result I'm freezingly cold and vaguely weak right now. Oddly, I don't feel that hungry, but I will probably also end up eating later and purging. Lately I've been doing that semi-regularly :S. I don't binge, per se... I just eat a large portion of something and then purge it. I don't even want to full-on binge lately... I just want to eat, but I can't tolerate the thought that I'll gain any weight from it whatsoever, so I purge afterwards.

Haven't heard a thing from my GP yet. As I got my bloodwork done Friday, and it's been three work days for her since then, I can only assume this means everything checked out just fine, as I knew it would. I'm nowhere close to medically unstable at this point. Part of me is glad for that, but at the same time it also makes me feel fairly pathetic. How can I call this any sort of a real eating disorder when my BMI is still normal, and I still function okay, and absolutely nothing is actually physically wrong with me?

I don't know. This shit is starting to warp and twist my brain until I have no idea what's real and what isn't. The only thing I know for certain at this point is that I don't have a choice anymore. It simply causes me too much anxiety to even try to eat maintenance cals, much less gain any weight. Even typing that freaked me out. I am way too fat and I need to loseloselose. Fatty McFatty. -.-


August 16th, 2009

I am doing really fucking badly. 111.6 today. No signs that I'm going to be able to give up losing weight anytime soon. Today I've had a coffee with milk and sweetener, a 100-calorie mini golden Oreo cakesters pack, an apple, and oatmeal made with water. Writing that out makes it seem like I've had SO MUCH food, but it all adds up to less than 400 calories. And even that seems like a massive number to ED brain.

My mindset seems to be deteriorating rather quickly. This whole thing is starting to scare me. What the fuck is going to happen to me?

No word from doctor, or people from ED clinic who are supposed to call once the referral goes through. Gotta make an appointment with the doctor about something else, anyway, so within the next week or two I'll see her and find out what's up with it. I could really use more ED support than I have right now. Which is basically zero.

Oh, yeah, and I'm back to purging again. It started off with only eating and purging, but lately it's turned into more "real" binges. It seems to fill some other need that pure restricting does not. I still don't want to do it super often, but I seem to be doing it at least every other day now. Have done it 2x/day at least a few times.

Falling.

Crossposted from another site.


So I've been home for... what, nine hours? Less? And I've already b/ped. I'm here on a weekend pass, catsitting, as my family is out of town until Monday. I had a feeling that coming here was just going to unleash me in terms of b/ping, and so far that seems to be true.

Thing is, I know I could probably call M House and talk with whatever counselor is in now -- tell them I'm struggling, talk for awhile. But what would I say? That I feel sad, that I hate myself, that I wish I could be anyone but me, that I wish I could escape this stupid life? What good would telling them do? I mean, maybe calling would alleviate some of my loneliness, but part of the problem is that apparently I can't be by myself for several hours without doing something self-destructive, and it seems kind of ironic/counterproductive to call and have them attempt to bail me out of my own self again.

I have been suspecting that once I left M House I'd probably end up on the relapse train, and this only makes me suspect it even more strongly. I just don't know how to stop the train so it doesn't end up making a big fucking trainwreck yet again.

Googlism is hilarious. But sometimes strikingly true.


anorexia is phat
anorexia is socially acceptable suicide
anorexia is difficult
anorexia is no thin matter
anorexia is not an indication that parents have gone wrong in raising their children
anorexia is the kind of thing that you just have to deal with
anorexia is not your friend anorexia is not your lover anorexia is not your escape anorexia is not your freedom anorexia is not your happiness anorexia is not
anorexia is one of the best ways to recover
anorexia is a condition where the cavy refuses to eat -- ?
anorexia is one of the few psychiatric disorders that can lead to death -- if by "few" you mean "almost all", then yes.
anorexia is still in the pioneer stage
anorexia is possible but it takes many years
anorexia is my creed my whole and restrained existence is one great painful trim
anorexia is dus een psychisch / emotionele aandoening


bulimia is a self
bulimia is its secrecy
bulimia is an act of disgust and an act of need
bulimia is in a no
bulimia is not about intelligence or logic
bulimia is simple; anorexics starve themselves
bulimia is latin
bulimia is not a pretty disease
bulimia is usually average


ednos is absolute nothingness
ednos is used for chronic dieters who purge what is considered by them to be “fattening” foods -- that's the only kind of ednos, obviously.


This one is pretty funny:


purging is safe?
purging is ineffective because it denies the attraction of crossdressing
purging is a powerful new tool for containing attacks before they cripple your network
purging is distributed among many simpletons
purging is completed in about 5~8 min
purging is accomplished in two steps
purging is not essential to the diagnosis
purging is allowed and
purging is the key to a trouble
purging is associated with health
purging is based upon an arbitrary volume
purging is the only way
purging is not included
purging is required
purging is our only business
purging is stopped both plungers are moved to the full forward position for head removal or
purging is accomplished by self
purging is postponed for about thirty minutes after drinking a large amount of water
purging is to place in fresh water where the worms will defecate
purging is too expensive and troublesome in most cases


Annnd:

binging is fun
binging is your enemy
binging is caused by distorted positive thoughts
binging is defined as explosive
binging is anything more than 3 glasses of wine in one sitting
binging is normal? i'm so confused
binging is more 'acceptable' in the dark
binging is a little bent but not bad at all
binging is good for the soul; exploding cigar exploding cigar
binging is out for liver lovers
binging is to avoid food for the entire day
binging is associated with increased risk of death
binging is not in fact recommended -- you don't say.
binging is becoming the weekend warrior's self
binging is so popular that stephen wallace


I'm done for now.

Written on the 12th on another website.


Home scale yesterday said 122.2. Fucking nuts. I cannot believe I am that small. It's difficult to imagine that I'm actually only 2 lbs heavier than my long term healthy goal weight. Whaaaaat.

Problem is, I don't feel like I've lost half the weight I actually want to lose. I still look at myself and see fat everywhere. I figure I'd need at least 10-15 more lbs to actually be small, to start with. I also feel like there's a part of me, hanging out in the back of my brain, that doesn't necessarily want to stop. That just wants to get smaller and smaller and smaller indefinitely. I guess that would be the anorexic bitch who still lives in there, despite the fact that I haven't truly given in to her for a very very long time. She's waiting for her comeback chance, and is willing to be patient, and lose weight slowly for now, so that she doesn't actually get stamped out. Biding her time.

I'm afraid that she's never going to go away. I'm afraid of her going away. Ambivalence. Turns out that one of my major obstacles to recovery is this bloody ambivalence, which seems to exist in every part of my life, not just ED, and I suspect that its resolution may take a long time. I am in a place where I am semi-safe and do eat at least enough to function right now, but I won't always be here. Will the ambivalence get resolved enough before I leave M House that I don't fall right back into ED? Or will I leave and start my downward spiral again?

Uncertainty.

So today I went to the Y for the first time, and when I went into the locker room I found... a scale. I POUNCED on it, because I haven't seen a scale in weeks. I weighed myself first with my hoodie & shoes, and the scale said something like 127. However, with shoes and sweatshirt off, it said I was 124.2. O.o. I hardly believe it, honestly. I mean, I still had my gym pants, t-shirt and undergarments on, and I had eaten that day, and it says 124.2? I suspect it might be a bunch of bullshit. I'm going to weigh myself when I go home tomorrow, on the scale I trust, so I'll be able to tell then how accurate my weigh-in was today.

I'm excited about the prospect of regular access to a scale, though, nonetheless. I might start going to the Y at least 2-3 times a week, as long as my energy keeps up. I mean, I can go anytime it's open and not pay a cent, and it's about a 10 or 15-minute walk from the house. What's there to lose, really? I just have to try not to let the weight and calories aspect of the whole thing consume me. I don't know if I can do that, but we'll see, I guess.

I had forgotten the way binging feels -- the sticky warmth of it, the way I feel like a failure for having so much food in me in the first place. Not that I always used to feel like a failure for binging. Right now I don't mind purging at all, but lately I hate anything and everything to do with binges. The anticipation, the rush, the frank enjoyment of the food... they're just not there anymore. I mean, I like the way the food tastes or whatever, but I don't *relish* it the way I used to. It's really fucking odd for me not to enjoy a binge.

I don't know what else to write.

Today I weighed myself for the first time in weeks and was a little afraid of what I'd see... but the scale again read 125.4. What's more, I had food/water weight in me at the time, which means I probably lost like... a pound since last weigh-in. I think that's fairly awesome, considering I haven't been doing much towards losing any weight lately.

One of my pairs of size 30 jeans (the loosest ones) are also starting to get a teeny bit looser on me, and I'm also a little bit closer to making the 11th notch on my belt. I can actually do it UP now, at least, whereas before the belt simply would not stretch to 11.

W00t.

[but i still want more.]

I'm beginning to seriously debate whether I want to stay at M House anymore. Actually, "want" isn't even the right word. It's not so much a matter of whether I want to as of whether I am actually able to. At this point, there are times when it's hard to see what end is up, let alone figure out whether I can ultimately handle dealing with my issues here.

The biggest problem is that there are issues cropping up for me now that I'm not sure I even want to talk about here, in large part because it kind of involves people here, and it's so stupid and ridiculous that I already feel like an idiot for making such a big deal about it. But I'm not even as afraid of seeming like an idiot as I am of them finding out about this shit. Cognitive distortions: because *I* can't handle it, I assume no one else is going to be able to either. Or, at least, I assume they can't handle it here. Maybe someone who's actually trained to handle this shit can handle it. Which is my way of saying I'm thinking of trying to discuss it with my psychologist, but don't want to talk to anyone else about it, aside from maybe M or A. But I feel like I can't deal with anything else until I deal with this, and since I can't talk about it at M House (according to me), it basically fucks everything up for me here until it is resolved. Which may take weeks, months, even years. I just don't fucking know.

I feel like this entry is super disorganized. Is it? I feel like even in talking about this stuff here my brain is flying around all over the place. I am irritable and edgy and getting harder and harder to live with or have a productive conversation about my "issues" with, and if I'm being honest, I can't see the end in sight to this shit. I'm tired of not being able to mute myself out with my "negative coping mechanisms", tired of my completely ridiculous mood swings lately, tired of obsessing about suicide because I lack any other way of dealing with my horribly intense feelings. I'm just tired of all of it. I want out, NOW. Only I can't get out.

I wonder how I lived through 2006, feeling like this. Because I know that this is how I felt basically all the time. I guess it's true that I did try pretty hard not to live through it. I wanted someone to shut off my brain, to take all this dysphoria and pain away from me, and no one could do it, and I simply could not control myself. Eventually, though, I discovered ED, which led to being able to mute all the intense feelings I couldn't deal with or control, but also led to a whole host of other shit. And, now, trying to recover from all the behaviors has just led straight the fuck back to THIS. All this shit I never wanted to feel or have to deal with ever again. And I still can't deal with it.

So now I'm left with wonderful options. Stay here, and try to deal with the undealable, or leave, and jump right back into disorders. Which option is better? Which option is worse? Can I find some happy medium where I self-destruct just enough to deal, until such time as I can actually confront the real issues? Is that even possible for me?

I'm so confused and fucked up. And sometimes I'm afraid I really do need to stick the adverb "hopelessly" in that sentence.

What do you do when you have no fucking idea what to do??

Sometimes I just figure I will die from all this shit eventually. And then I start wondering why I am bothering to try and prolong the inevitable. But then sometimes I think I can actually get better, and I have to keep trying or I never WILL get better.

I am massively ambivalent about recovery, and it's tearing me apart. The self-destructive drive is SO STRONG right now, and yet the side that wants recovery has some strength as well, particularly because that side is being highly supported by M House. If I wasn't here, I can say with fair certainty that the recovery side wouldn't even have a chance. As it is, though, both sides are pulling at me, screaming at me, trying to force me to make a choice, and I haven't got the first fucking clue what to do. All I know is that this may slowly drive me even crazier than I already was.


I have to eat supper soon. :/

The suicidal thoughts are starting to become more of a chronic condition than an acute, episodic thing. I don't think that's good, really, but I feel rather indifferent to it most of the time. It probably doesn't scare me like it should. It just feels like... the way things are. The way my brain works. It also feels, at this point, like something I've always had and always will have, although I realize logically that this last part isn't true. It just feels true.

Today my ninth belt notch is not as tight as it was. Yay!!

I'm sorry if I sound like some kind of bubbly school girl in these posts, by the way. I forgot how heady this stuff can feel initially. I can't exactly call it the fasting high, since I'm not fasting, but maybe you could call it a restriction high. Sort of. I think it has just as much to do with the fact that doing this makes me feel like I actually have some kind of purpose, and am working towards something I actually WANT, instead of something I feel like I should do. You know?

Anyway, I have to go try to do some more Latin, since I was a moron and decided I needed lots more work in my life -.-. I'll probably write something again soon-ish. Hopefully, at least.

125.4. OMG OMG OMG. You have nooo idea how happy this makes me. This was in my skivvies, after 1.5 cups of dehydrating coffee, a BM, and no food so far today, but still. That's exactly the weight I came back from Homewood with!! I never thought I'd see that number again.

But I need to lose more. I am still far too fat. 120 is the absolute minimum, but ideally I'd like at least the mid to high teens somewhere. It's just a matter of how much I can get away with before staff finds out. I guess I will find out the limits pretty soon.

And if I can't restrict a lot, well... there's always exercise, I guess.

Being at my old house seems to be a trigger. Hmmm. Maybe it's just because I realize afresh how stupid and fucking pointless my life actually is while I'm here.

On the up side, I got on my scale tonight, wearing only my t-shirt and undergarments, and it said 127.2. OMG WTF. I am ridiculously happy about this. Also, I tried on a pair of my old size 10 jeans and they fit!! *does a happy dance* I know size 10 probably doesn't seem very small, but compared to a 12 it feels like I'm a million times smaller. 12 is just fucking ridiculous, anyway. Gargantuanely fat. Especially on someone who's only 5'3.5". Size 10 is not small, but at least I'm not quite as GROSS AND FAT as I used to be. Gotta try and keep hold of my eating, though, so that I don't gain anything. I think I will freak the fuck out if I gain much from where I am right now. And by "much" I mean like... more than a pound. But more especially if I gain the pant size back. I DO NOT WANT TO GAIN THAT SIZE BACK.

Crazycrazycrazy.

Today is one of those days when I don't want to be alive. I'm not actively suicidal, per se... I just really don't want to be here.

Only two days left! Huzzah!

I'm going to see a play today with a couple of friends. It's about a gay guy in a concentration camp who falls in love with another gay guy. Fascination with the Holocaust + LBGT themes = a good show, I hope. Has the potential to be profound. Yadda yadda yadda.

And since I have some time now, I guess I'll tell you about the psychological assessment, as I promised I would do before. None of it was very surprising in any way. DSM-wise, it went something like this:

Axis I: Dysthymic Disorder; Identity Problems
Axis II: No diagnosis, but characteristics of Borderline Personality Disorder
Axis III: GERD (acid reflux disease) and PCOS (hormone disorder)
Axis IV: I can't remember what this said, if anything. There might have been something there, but if there was it was fairly obvious, so obvious that I didn't take much note of it.
Axis V: This was the Global Assessment Functioning scale. My GAS level was rated as a current 50, but for the past year as a 60.


So, yeah - nothing terribly surprising in that, for me at least. I've known about the dysthymia and borderline crap for a long time. It is interesting to me, though, that neither my ED nor my anxiety received any diagnostic attention. I can only assume that neither, at this point, must seem serious enough to qualify, or something. On the other hand, it was a full report, and the report itself contained some details about the b/ping and my "drive for thinness" (which apparently doesn't mean I have to actively be trying to get thinner - just that I always want to BE thinner). The anxiety was sort of mentioned in with the borderline stuff, and not so much as a separate thing, except for maybe in passing.

Anyway, I have to go check in yet again, so I guess that's all for now. Comments and queries are always welcome! Heh.