Late Night Ramblings

PThis will not be a coherent post. I'm giving you a glimpse into the current battle inside my head. The argument between It and Sanity.

I took this picture Saturday before work. I liked my hair and make up and wanted to send a picture to my mom. Looking in the mirror before I left I was fine. Obviously or I wouldn't have left the house. I liked the way I looked enough to take the picture. But of course, once I snapped the picture I wanted to cry. And the monster got so loud and angry telling me my face looked fat. And I kept switching between the picture and the mirror. Hoping that maybe the camera was broken. But no matter how much I hoped I just knew my cheeks were ENORMOUS. 

Of course, this was a trigger. A big one. I was cashiering which meant free food (Ahhh!) I wrestled back and forth for most of my nearly 7 hour shift on whether or not I was actually going to eat food. I ended up ordering jambalaya to go and ate it. But the guilt was overwhelming and I turned to my newest method of comfort, and punishment, for relief.

I woke up the next morning thoughts still consumed by the picture and decided to compare it to one from August- the month I was nearly hospitalized. 

Seeeee I am fat, or so the monster is trying to convince me. Ugh I am pale though I need it to be summer!

The monster is so mad. But Sanity is so much stronger than it was before and I can actually find GOOD things in the picture on the right, so long as I look at them side-by-side. 

I'm smiling in both pictures, yes, but look at my eyes- It's always the eyes that give it away. It's my eyes I always look at in the pictures I keep handy to remind myself that's what will happen if I relapse. In the picture on the left my eyes are hollow and sunken. I have circles and bags. I might as well be a zombie. Though, I'm pretty sure at that point I was. ("At least your face was skinny")

Then there's the picture on the right. I don't look dead. My eyes look happy and "sparkly". They aren't hollow or sunken in, and they look somewhat hopeful, or so I tell myself. ("Yeah but look at how chubby your cheeks are")

The war currently going on in my head is confusing. I think about letting myself relapse daily. But by the end of the day I've changed my mind. Something stops me and convinces me to eat a good dinner or enjoy an extra snack. Or even to not add up the few calories I've eaten thus far. Not that it's all perfect. I've found a new comfort/addiction. One I can't say out loud because I know the dangers. I know how bad and incredibly stupid it is. I know what happens if I don't stop. (I can't say it. Not yet. But I'm not cutting or self-harming just to clarify) I keep myself from full relapse by reminding myself that if I fall again I will just let myself hit the ground and shatter. 

But for now I just do the best I can and try to listen to my body, even if the monster says it's an idiot and doesn't know what it wants anyway. I pull up THOSE pictures to remind myself why I can't go back. And I let my mind ramble on and spam my Pinterest followers with quotes (#sorrynotsorry) and sometimes, in an attempt to make sense of it all I type and type and type random, hopefully somewhat logically blog posts. 

And as much as nights used to scare me I actually almost welcome them now.

Dear Eating Disorder

Hi. We've met before, you know me very well. You know my strengths, you know, the ones you tried to convince me were weaknesses. You know my actual weaknesses. You know me very well but you don't actually know me. Or at least the person I used to be.

I used to laugh and have fun. I was as carefree as I could be. I mean, you know I value safety and control you just made the things I needed to control different. I used to twirl through life with candor and happiness. Then I met you. And you made me believe you could make me laugh and twirl more. You made me believe that if I stuck with you I would be happier than I've ever been. But you lied. You lied over and over again. Every single time I tried to leave you, to forget, you pulled me back promising me that I was close and to just stay a little longer.

How many times did I come back? Believing that this time things would be different. But they weren't. They were always the same. I was never happy, I'm still not. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder or clinging to the edge of a cliff just waiting for you to get me again. To pull and pull until I'm too exhausted to fight. I'm scared you will never leave me alone.

You know, I'm writing this on Valentine's Day. You know, "the day of love"? But I don't love you. I thought I did, sometimes I think I still do. But then I think about everything that's happened since you came into my life and I realize how much I really hate you. And how much I wish I could kill you. Not just for me but for everyone else you've tricked into thinking that you know everything. Everyone you've tricked into believing that your way is best.

I can't even begin to tell you the things you've stolen from me. I used to have friends, best friends to hang out with. But you took that. You made me believe that starving myself was better than friends. You made me believe that once I got skinny I would have an endless number of friends. But that was just another lie. I get to sit back and watch my once-friends have fun while I sit and try to escape from you.

Maybe, that was your plan. Because if you left me with no one I would have to come crawling back. Because I know you're always there, you will never leave. And I wish you would. I wish you would leave and my friends would come back. 

I'm sure, right now you're smiling because you think this loneliness is going to make me come crawling back. But I refuse to let that happen. I am determined to fix this. To fix what you've broken and to take back what you stole. I'm exhausted and I'm sad and it feels impossible but if I let you sweet talk me back I don't know if I would ever fight again. Maybe this time I would let you kill me and I know nothing would make you happier.

So while I may feel sad and lonely and desperate for anyone, even you. I'm done. I'm over you. I'm not stupid, though you try to convince me that I am, I know you're there, behind me. You are biding your time and waiting for me to give up. Maybe you'll get tired of waiting and attack me from the shadows. but as tired as I am of fighting I am even more tired of you. And somehow I will find the strength to win.

Because I hate you.

*I've been doing a "recovery challenge" and day 14 is writing a letter to your disorder*

Fear Food

It does not make sense to be afraid of food. Unless, of course, it can kill you, then it's probably best to run from it.

The thing with eating disorders is that you develop a fear of foods you used to love. Foods you ate almost daily. For inexplicable reasons your heart now beats a thousand times a minute at the mere mention of these foods. So you begin to catagorize: safe and unsafe.

There is no rule for these lists and everyone's is completely different. My fear foods include:

French fries

Candy

Most chips

Milk

Non-soy yogurt

Most cereal

White bread

Chinese food (which used to be a favorite)

There is more but those are the biggest. I don't know why. It's not calories the thought of eating these just foods terrifies me. But in January I decided it was time to work on getting over those fears. So on a whim I decided to try our special grilled cheese at work. Goat cheese, cheddar cheese, tomato, arugula, and WHITE BREAD. 

It was amazing. And I actually didn't  feel bad for eating it. I wasn't overly full and it wasn't greasy like most grilled cheese. I did end up eating super safe and healthy foods later, but, one step at a time.

Surprisingly though, my biggest safe food is peanut butter. I've always liked peanut butter but when I got sick I couldn't live without it and it's now my favorite food.

My goal is to challenge myself to a fear food at least once a month. Today it was Chex. A favorite snack that I haven't eaten in ages. It was so scary and it sat in my car forever before I could convince myself to eat it. It was so so good. Obviously, I used to eat it all the time!

I know Chex is a lot different than a sandwich but I can't always eat big fears like that. I don't know how I feel right now. I'm in a slump at the moment so it's hard to be proud for conquering this.

But I will keep trying different foods. And maybe I will eat those foods more often once the fear is gone. 

As scary as this may be at least it's yummy. 

All Fall Down

I've written before about being lost. Stuck in this nightmare of a world, trying and failing so many times to escape. Currently I am poised in between my world of terror and that of happiness. Unsure of which way I really want to go, especially because climbing all of those steps is exhausting. So, some days I don't climb at all, but I still hold on and try my hardest not to fall, even if the easiest thing would be to let go. 

The good news is that my support system is getting louder, drowning out the voices below that tell me to fall once again. I make myself dizzy constantly looking every which way, trying to decide who is right today. But then something will hit me that makes me realize which way I really want to go.

You see, I've come to realize we all end up in nightmares we seemingly can't escape. Nobody will make it through this life without falling down that rabbit hole, some are just better at getting out than others. 

In some ways we are alone in these worlds. With only the voices to keep us company. But there are millions of these worlds. They are occupied by boys and girls, men and women who simply lost their way. But this is the 21st century. There are a million and one ways to communicate. So while we are stuck in isolation in our ghastly worlds we are not completely alone. 

So enters Twitterland (or Facebook or Tumblr or whatever) where you can create your very own secret identity. An identity separate from those not currently stuck in grim places. Through these mediums you can find those who's land of nightmares is not that much different from yours. You can talk and share and support in ways that you can't always do with those you communicate with in the "real" world. Of course, this can be tricky because, while rare, there are those who do not want to see you succeed they support your demons and tell you that starving/purging/cutting/etc. is fine, they will do anything to keep you in this world. The trick is getting far away from those and fast. Luckily, more people are supportive and motivating than not.

This glimpse into another's nightmare can be just the push you need to get yourself out of your dark place. Often times it will put things into perspective, a perspective these monsters don't want you to see. I hate the saying "no matter how bad you have it somebody always has it worse" while not untrue I feel it diminishes whatever that person is feeling. Nobody should feel that their feelings aren't important but this glimpse into another's world may be the key to helping them. 

While all of these illusions differ from one person to the next they all share a common ruler: fear. It's the hardest monster of all to defeat. But that's exactly why the glimpse of another's horrifying dreams is so important, especially if that person is overcoming a fear. There are those fighting a fear of needles to get the ultimate gift. There are those facing their abusers and letting them know they no longer control them. These are the important things to see. The stories I've heard that made me realize that as terrifying as Fear is there's so much more than just giving up and staying in this hellish place.

It's not easy breaking free from those chains you've got. And it's one of the scariest things you will ever do, no matter what it is you are trying to escape from. I'm still trapped but my chains are looser than they were before. 

I don't know exactly what's waiting for me on the other side of this. I do know that the world I left behind long ago is gone and once I'm free from Fear the world I enter will be so much better than anything I could ever imagine.

The Whole Story

Note: I wrote this a few months ago but am publishing it now.

 

At some point most of us have this overwhelming desire to be skinnier. For some the thought is fleeting and you go back to enjoying your cupcake or whatever food you happen to be eating. Then there are those, like me, who take it to the extreme. Who cling to this new found obsession with all they've got.

I can remember it like it was yesterday. A family I babysat for was trying to get healthier and the dad was telling me about this new app that could keep track of food and exercise. If I downloaded it we could see what the other person did. I downloaded the app, MyFitnesPal I set my goal to 90lbs. The perfect number. 

After that day I didn't think about it again. I continued on with my life and the rest of the summer doing whatever I damn well pleased. Then as the weather got colder my thoughts got darker, I don't remember when exactly the thoughts changed but all of a sudden I hated how I looked in my jeans so I skipped a few meals and that seemed to solve things, temporarily. My jeans didn't give me a muffin top when I put them on and my stomach seemed flatter. I kept this up for a little bit.

Things changed at a doctor's appointment in October of 2012. I walked in completely indifferent after all this was routine. I was fine until I stepped on the scale. 121 is what the number read and I melted. "Perfect!" The nurse said and I just smiled meekly at her, it seemed so massive. I was starting to realize how fat I actually was.

After that I decided skipping meals was the answer. I could get away with skipping breakfast and lunch. I could sometimes manage avoiding dinner but living in a house with 6 other people made it difficult. But it still worked, when I went to the doctor two weeks later the number was smaller, 115. Down 6 pounds in such a short amount of time and it felt amazing. Even more amazingly the doctor didn't say anything, they hadn't even noticed my sudden change in weight.

This was my last doctor's visit because I was moving, 2600 miles away. I remember talking to people saying that I was glad to be making the trip alone because then I wouldn't have to stop for food as much. They told me to be careful because I needed to keep my energy up but I was happy at the thought of how little I would have to eat.

When I got to California I had definitely lost weight, I don't know how much and I always wish I had weighed myself. But I gained some of the weight back with the constant family dinners I was attending until one day I felt out of control and massive. That was the first time I ever tried purging. I was unsuccessful and embarrassed because only people with eating disorders do that.

After that night I remembered that app I had learned about. I reinstalled it and began counting every little calorie. The weight came off quickly and I was down to 109 before I knew it. 

But this was exhausting all of it. It went on for a few months but I stopped losing weight but I felt like I was still losing my mind. It got to the point where I knew something was really wrong, and decided I needed help. I hadn't eaten for two days when I texted my aunt to tell her what was going on. 

It was a relief, at least for a little while, to get it out there. And by mid-April I was in therapy. I liked my therapist right away, she was young and made it so easy to talk. Having Jamie to confide in made things that much easier, especially since my family had stopped being supportive. They thought I was doing it for attention and I was told that I wasn't "skinny enough to have a problem" or that I was "thin not skinny" 

In May I headed back to Virginia for my brothers graduation and scheduled a doctors appointment while I was back there. I weighed in at 108, not alarmingly small and they didn't question it until I explained why I was in therapy. My doctor (whom I miss being able to see and was amazing) compared my charts and noticed the 13 pound weight loss and said "your little body can't handle that" of course I wanted to scream that I wasn't that little but I just bowed my head. And although I didn't fit the DSM criteria for it she said my thoughts and my somewhat dramatic weightloss was sending me towards the dangerous world of anorexia. She sent me home with some reading material and the promise that I would find a doctor as soon as I got back to California.

I told my parents what Shannon had said and they didn't believe me. I will always remember my mom saying "no, I don't think so" and after that things just got worse and by July I was down to 104 and determined to lose even more. 

When August rolled around I was fluctuating between 99 and 101 and being threatened with hospitalization because I FINALLY met all the criteria for anorexia nervosa, the only thing that kept me out was normal blood test results. But I was also miserable, I had lost a job because the parents were worried I was influencing their daughter in a negative way. I couldn't handle the way my clothes didn't fit and the reflection in the mirror just screamed that I was massive. I was getting calls and texts from loved ones in Virginia about how unhealthy I looked in the pictures I posted on Facebook. Everything was so overwhelming.

Until one day it changed. I was determined to get better, even more so than before. The weight gain was easy, too easy and I was up to 106 by early October and 108 by Halloween. But my mind was, and still is very sick and I want nothing more than to lose everything I've gained. 

I can't handle that people are constantly telling me how skinny I am because I just know it's not true. And my boyfriend who doesn't know anything about my struggle is constantly telling me how he can feel my bones or that he's scared he's going to snap me in half. I never know what to respond when he tells me these things so I just laugh and change the subject. Don't get me wrong there's a part of me that loves this. Doesn't every girl dream of being fragile or delicate? Because doesn't that mean perfect? 

As of now, November 2013, I'm slipping. I feel as I'm just not even trying and nobody really seems to care except my therapist who is begging me not to give up. My next doctors appointment is not until January, I've been granted longer between times because of how well I'm doing. Of course, my therapist could deem it necessary to go back earlier if I continue down this path but I'm hoping I will be climbing again long before that.

The hardest part of this is the feeling of being alone. Sure I have friends that support me but they don't truly understand. My family thinks I'm magically cured because I'm at my target. And my therapist who is amazing I only see once or twice a week. But if you're reading this and struggling I want you to know you're never alone. I'm here for you and will do whatever I can to help you succeed with whatever battle it is you are fighting. I would never want anyone to feel as alone as I sometimes do when it comes to struggles like this. 

Know that, even if you can't see your beauty, I can. And you're amazing just the way you are.

Xo,

Miranda