Good Times and Bad Times

The past week or two, life has been strange. Some days have been great, others have been terrible, and all of them have been exhausting.

I got my period back again, which deserves a blog post all unto itself. Obviously, I am stoked about decreasing my risk of Osteoporosis, but my eating disorder has some special opinions on the matter. (Fun fact: I am fat, I am not sick enough, and nobody will care about my feelings anymore.)

A couple days after getting my period back, I had to be weighed at Relapse Prevention, and found that my weight had skyrocketed in one week. My therapist told me that it’s normal for water retention to increase your weight during this time of the month, but I remained horrified. I engaged in some mild behaviours that day and the next.

Over the next few days, multiple confrontations occurred between myself and my family, and my home no longer feels like an emotionally safe place for me to be. Unfortunately, I am currently living in a state that scientists like to call “Broke as Fuck”, so moving out isn’t an option.

On top of all this, I recently lost my job (for reasons that I’m not sure are legal), and I have not yet been able to tell my parents due to the shame. I am having a really hard time making due with what little money I have until my student loan comes in mid-September, but I can’t ask my parents for help.

In response to these stressors, my use of eating disorder behaviours greatly increased.

Fortunately, something made me get back on track (again again again) today, so things will probably be okay. Life is really difficult right now, but I need to believe that one day it will be better. And I can only believe that if I am getting well.

Tomorrow, I need to leave the house despite the intense shame I feel over what I have eaten today and about its effects on my body. Then, I need to figure out how to refill my prescription without being able to afford the co-pay. It is going to be a difficult day. But there’s that thing about things getting better, so…


Quick Update (It’s Good News!)

Hey everybody!

I am actually doing exceptionally well with regards to my eating. I am eating more than I have since leaving Day Hospital.

Unfortunately, this means that I am experiencing some pretty unpleasant refeeding symptoms. For me, the worst of these symptoms is always fatigue. I attended an appointment and filmed two YouTube videos today, and I barely remember any of it. So it may be a few days before I sit down and write a real blog post.

In the mean time, you can find my new videos here:

I may post more videos before I continue blogging, as I find the former less energetically demanding.

Also, I should mention that despite the unpleasant physical symptoms, I am currently feeling the happiest I have felt in months! I hope everyone else is doing well, and I should be back relatively soon.



Insensitive Doctors

Today, I had an appointment with a doctor I haven’t seen in nearly a year.

He works in the campus health centre in the university I attended between 2012 and 2014, and where I will be returning this Fall. I saw him regularly until November 2014, then entered Day Hospital treatment for the first time in December. While in treatment, my medical needs were met by the program psychiatrist and the nurse practitioner.

During my brief time out of program, I attended a different university, and had my prescriptions renewed at their campus health centre. When I returned to treatment, I was once again under the care of the program staff. Shortly before I was discharged, the psychiatrist wrote me a prescription for two month’s worth of medication. That prescription ran out yesterday.

So today, I found myself back in his office, detailing my past year of treatment. And he was kind of an ass about it.

At one point, he told me that, “Eating disorder patients are notorious for failing treatment, and reaching out again when they are in crisis”. He asked if that was me, forcing me to defend my intentions of recovery, and making me consider lying about my recent struggles. I felt incredibly judged by him, and I began to judge myself for not yet being recovered. I started to feel like a sneaky, manipulative trouble-maker, when in reality, I am just ill.

He also told me at one point that I looked great, after I told him that I have been struggling lately. I can understand when my friends and family don’t know that, to my eating disorder, looking great= looking fat. But doctors who deal with patients with eating disorders should know better.

Maybe I am just grumpy, or maybe this is my eating disorder coming out to attack someone who wants me to get well. But I am not happy with the quality of care I received today.

I am not happy with the quality of care I receive in general as a patient with an eating disorder. But there’s not much I can do about it today, aside from writing this blog post. So here it is.


Back on Track (Again)

I woke up at noon today.

Waking up late is not a rare occurrence for me, but waking up late when I am supposed to work from 12-5 is a first. I slept through my alarm, and to explain why this happened, I have to back up a couple of days.

On Monday, I had an appointment with my therapist that motivated me to get back on track with my eating. Unfortunately, I purged after eating a regular lunch, and spent the rest of the day bingeing and purging to cope with the guilt. I woke up Tuesday intending to fast all day.

After struggling to perform well at work in spite of my malnourished brain, I realized that it really was in my best interest to work towards recovery. I followed the meal plan for the rest of the day. By the end of the day, I was having an extremely difficult time coping, and decided once more to return to restricting the following day.

In the past, I have always become extremely tired for the first few days of normal eating. For some reason, though, I underestimated this effect this time around. When I groggily awoke today at noon and realized what had happened, I was very upset. I had to call in sick for the second time in one month of working at my new job.

Anorexia forced me to take a year off from school and work. She tortured me during a combined 17 weeks of intensive treatment. She made me sit alone in my room while my family enjoyed birthdays and holidays with delicious food. She called me fat and greedy and worthless and weak. Now, Anorexia is coming after my amazing new job, and I will NOT let her take that away from me too. I AM DONE.

Today, I am officially back on track towards recovery. I know I will continue to struggle, and I will inevitably slip from time to time, but I will continue to pick myself up and carry on fighting. I am taking my life back from the LYING BITCH that is my eating disorder.

Today, I choose life. Today, I choose recovery.


Rough Few Days

TRIGGER WARNING: I talk about engaging in eating disorder behaviours in this post. Please read at your own discretion.

These past have been incredibly difficult, and unfortunately, I have been using my eating disorder to cope.

On Friday afternoon, I had a difficult conversation with my mom about a previous argument we had. My mom mentioned repeatedly that I need to “take responsibility for [my] actions”. I felt like I was being blamed for having an eating disorder.

Saturday morning, I checked my bank account and found that $500 had been taken out of my account unexpectedly. I contacted my bank and the company that withdrew the money, but nothing could be done right away as it is the August long weekend. I vomited part of my lunch and restricted the rest of it. I did managed to eat the rest of my lunch later on with my afternoon snack. Later, I vomited my dinner, but was able to keep down evening snack. It is extremely rare for me to purge regular meals, so this is quite upsetting.

My stress as well as the vomiting led to a meltdown on Saturday night. My dad made an incredibly rude comment towards me, to which I responded “Fuck you” without even thinking. My emotions and actions felt incredibly out of control at that time.

Sunday morning, my dad and I discussed the incident, which made me feel worse. I apologized for what I said, because I knew it was wrong the moment the words left my lips, but I did not feel that my concerns about what my dad had said were being heard. I restricted nearly a third of my meal plan Sunday and spent the night at a friend’s house.

Both Saturday and Sunday were filled with depression, anxiety, and even suicidal thoughts. Today has been better so far, and I have returned home, but I have been engaging in mild restriction. I just hope that things start looking up.


The Things I Don’t Miss

I have a very bad habit of romanticizing my eating disorder. Some days, my thoughts are a constant loop of everything I miss about it. So right now, I am going to make myself sit down and list the things that I absolutely do not miss.

1. I do not miss ordering a black coffee at Starbucks while everybody else orders fun double-mocha-frappa-latte-soy-macchiatos. I fucking hate the taste of black coffee.

2. I do not miss walking around in a constant state of semi-consciousness. Just because you CAN be productive while experiencing a never-ending head rush, doesn’t mean you SHOULD.

3. I do not miss sleeping in until noon just to endure fewer waking hours. That’s not how anyone should live their life.

4. I don’t miss sitting alone in my room eating my safe foods while my family enjoys birthday cake without me.

5. I do not miss coming up with a new excuse every night for not eating dinner with my family.

6. I do not miss having to constantly stock up on the only 3 foods that feel safe to me.

7. I don’t miss calculating my daily caloric intake on the way to a party to figure out whether or not I can drink.

8. I do not miss planning who to call if I collapse in the grocery store because the odds are starting to look like fifty/fifty.

9. I do not miss hating EVERYONE. ALL THE TIME.

10. I do not miss constantly counting down hours and days because enduring the passage of time has become an impossible chore.

11. I do not miss seeing the pain in my dad’s eyes when he says I don’t look well, and feeling exhilarated because that means I’m getting thinner.

12. Weight redistribution takes a while, but I WILL NOT miss having smaller breasts than my fifteen year old sister- ouch.

13. I do not miss having the exact same conversation with my therapist every single week.

14. I do not miss wondering exactly how many years I have until I develop osteoporosis.

15. I do not miss looking for jobs and degrees I can do without a properly functioning brain. Hint: it’s none.

16. I do not miss going to second base with strange women performing ECGs on me.

17. I do not miss artificial sweeteners. They taste like alien diarrhea.

18. I do not miss shamelessly lying to the people who love me all day.

19. I do not miss feeling like my life is ruined because I am having a bad body image day.

20. I do not miss being a shell of a person while my sense of humour and individuality fade with starvation. 21. I do not miss being unable to date because I have way too much baggage and way too little interest in the opposite sex.

22. I do not miss looking forward to a future of hospitals and disability support and loneliness and pain.

23. I do not miss not allowing myself to feel happiness out of fear that feeling happy while sick will destroy my chances of ever becoming healthy.

24. I do not miss my friendships being one-sided as my friends support me while I am unable to do the same for them.

25. I do not miss the very real fear that nobody can tell I have lost weight and all my suffering has been in vain.

I am going to stop there, because to be honest, I can’t stop thinking about how much I miss losing weight. I fucking miss it like it’s a drug. Like it’s the love of my life. But I am striving for higher goals than a lower number on the scale, so I’m just going to have to learn how to deal.