Black Swan

I just saw the movie Black Swan. My mind is racing. I have to wonder if I'm slightly similar to the Nina in the movie. Are my parts slowly driving me mad?

Swan Lake has always been my favorite ballet. The music, the movement, the story ... it's beautiful. But it's pretty twisted when we really analyze it.....

Basic plot:

Young, innocent, beautiful girl is put under a spell by an evil wizard so that he can control her. She's only allowed to take human form at night, while by day she's a swan. She falls in love with a prince who "mistakenly" pledges his love to the evil wizard's daughter. The girl then commits suicide to avoid the tragedy of his "mistake."

In the movie I just saw with Natalie Portman, she gets the staring role in the ballet and basically goes crazy. She cannot handle the duality of the role as she has to tap into her "dark side." I am always wondering what I will discover as I get to know more of my parts, especially the scary ones. Will they overtake me? Am I really me? What do they know that I don't?

I've been working a lot with my little parts lately and it's very painful. The deep hurt they feel is hard to bare. Something came up recently about my old therapist. I was so attached to her, the Little Ones were so attached. I can hardly stand to hear her name. I don't know how to get her out of my head and now she's infiltrated my dreams. When will it stop?!?!

Fairy Tales?

What are fairy tales today? I've been trying to come up with a grown up / mental health fairy tale for months. I can lay the ground work for the beginning... abuse, neglect, abandon, betrayal, control but how does it end? There's no good ending. Any way I spin it the story doesn't work. It either ends realistically, which means loss and struggle or ends in a fairy tale format which only furthers the disappointment that fantasies never happen.

I wanted to come up with a story to give hope but be realistic. I can't do that. I wanted to come up with a story with a lesson of "Bad things happen but it's okay, they can turn out right." I wanted to write an adult fairy tale that explains mental illness to adults and children with the message that it will be okay.

As I sit in my lonely, gloomy condo, crying on Christmas Eve, I realized there is no good ending. I'm contemplating the next 48 hours I will be spending with my family and dreading it. Why do I hate them so much? I love them...

I just ate my breakfast and want to throw it up. I haven't purged in 7 weeks but it's getting harder and harder. Especially, when I add the fact that I am in some manner nauseous or having acid reflux all the time.

I have so much to do. I have to wrap all these Christmas presents and clean my house and about 100 other things but all I want to do is curl up and disappear.

My whole system is hurting. I worked with my therapist to try to prepare but it's not working. My parts are all enmeshed and in panic. This is the worst I have felt near Christmas, ever. What's so different this time? Why so much pain this time?

Decision

I've decided to stay in my current job, live in my house and turn down the Ohio job.

There's more to life than a job.

Do I want my current job? Do I think it will be any less frustrating?

NO!

Am I going to regret my decision?

Probably...

Would I regret the decision either way?

Definitely!

I have barley been able to think of anything else for weeks. I have to stop the debate. I worry that I taking the safe route out of fear.

It can't be such a bad thing to pick the safe answer when recovery is on the line.

I made my decision on a plane trip from CT to FL. I couldn't stop thinking about it so figured it was time to make a decision. I'm lucky people on planes are in their own little worlds because I was crying most of the trip. I don't want to keep make this decision. I really want to be able to be done with it all but even today I'm already second guessing myself.

I'm starting to dread work on Monday and the hot winters already. I'm starting to like my life here though.

I'm so conflicted!

Confused

I found myself surfing the web tonight to see if laxatives REALLY DO make someone lose weight. I didn't go on the pro-ana/mia sites but it doesn't matter. I'm still having the urge to binge / purge / restrict dispite the warnings I read from medical sites.

I'm really VERY stressed out. I called my dad yesterday and he didn't asnwer the phone. I don't really like my dad but I know this is some kind of punishment. About two weeks ago he hung up on me because I didn't want to talk to him about something. He hasn't talked to me since. The guilt has set in. I'm also having to decide if I'm going to move to Ohio for a job. Most the the time, I don't want to go but parts of mine want the adventure and change of environment. I am beyond confused and no one is going to be able to help me with this.

I got the job offer and I've been crying off and on ever since. That just doesn't seem right! Then again, change is always hard but that doesn't mean it's bad. I'm so confused.

I'm also sort of at a pivotal time in my recovery. I'm sure I would backslide if I moved. I'm already starting (as stated above). Do I want that?

I'm afraid if I don't take this job (it's a great opportunity) that I might just die in my current job. I really hate my job and want to change industries. Do I take the risk that I will find something here or go for the sure thing that will mean EVERYTHING changes?

Driving Myself Crazy

I REALLY should not be allowed to drive! If I didn't have to get places beyond walking distance, I wouldn't drive. I fantasize about having my own chauffeur instead of things like owning a mansion or a beach home in Hawaii because I HATE to drive!

Once again this evening I found myself in the middle of "lost." I've lived in my same city for a total of about 14 years! I "blacked out" and when I "came to" I had no idea where I was! NONE! I just kept driving because I could tell I was not in a good part of town. I eventually found my way home but the drive that should have taken 10 minutes took 30 instead. That's not much lost time but it's still a little scary and VERY irritating.

The name of the street I turn on when I'm getting close to my home is two words long... the last word is HAVEN. I couldn't help but say the words "safe haven" to myself as I turned to enter my neighborhood.

Attachment / Relationship Addiction

One of the many issues I struggle with is abandonment which has lead to attachment disorders and relationship addiction.

I have found a pattern in my relationships. My relationship addiction does not come in the form of romantic relationships. I can string together my life by the people I "attach" to. I seem to hop from one mother-replacement figure to another. I've known this about myself for several years now but can't seem to change the behavior. I HATE THIS ABOUT MYSELF!!!!!!!!!!!

I have spent much of the day angry at myself, no LIVID at myself because I have identified my next "mother / mentor figure." It's really very much out of my control. I don't seem to understand what I'm doing until it's done and my next "victim" is all I can think about. I feel like a vampire, sucking the life out of the people who are nice to me.

I want to stop doing this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These aren't people that I have any real relationship with though... well, sometimes it is but that's only when I've done enough to get them to "take care of me." It's very codependent and manipulative and I CAN'T STAND IT! The realization that I have done it again has really got me depressed. I just want to die! I shouldn't be allowed to be around people. I want to kill myself. The world would be a better place without me. I feel so sorry for the people I put in this position. It's not fair to them.

I seem to attach to very similar people each time, too. One of the first people I remember was a Christian camp counselor. I had this intense conversation with her then kept calling her after the camp to try and hang out.... She was probably in her late 20's and I was only in 6th grade. The other women have been people like dance teachers, school teachers, my old sponsor, a couple therapists... the list goes on. It's pathetic, shameful and excruciating. These woman usually (but not always) have the same kind of characteristics. They are generally older than me, pretty, average size, smart, nurturing, helpful and many times have dark, curly hair. What does this all mean? Most importantly, how do I stop doing this?

The general pattern looks something like this:
-I'm sad or lonely and start a new program of some kind
-I find a woman who is kind enough to listen to my problems
-This woman is helpful and caring
-I want to be around her all the time
-I start thinking about her much of the day: harmless things like, what I want to tell her about a particular incident or wondering what she would think about something
-I start crossing into calling her or e-mailing her more than I know a normal relationship would at this particular point
-I start to read too much into her responses and feel hurt when she doesn't get back to me soon enough or give me the attention I want
-My expectations for her become far greater than any one person can take on
-This period may last as short as a couple weeks to as long as a couple years until eventually I am let down enough times that I get so angry that I end it or she realizes that I have become a "leach" and leaves me

This cycle is self perpetuating as it continues to create the strong sense of abandonment and loneliness thus spurring me toward someone else to "fill me up."

Lord, please make it stop!

Quick Update

In working with some trauma and working a lot at my real job, I've found little time or energy for much else.

I have been going to Celebrate Recovery regularly and I think that's helping.

Pandora (a part of mine) has been highly activated lately with the exposure of her secret. We are working it out together but it's not easy.

Living Life

I have recenlty had the strange thought that I don't really want to LIVE my life as much as I want to HAVE LIVED my life. It's a very complex thought.

Last week, I had planned to go to a free concert. I can't think of any reason why I didn't want to go to it but I didn't. I felt trapped in thinking I had to go to this concert. I kept thinking that I would have a good time once I was there but then the thought became, "I'll be happy I went to the concert." I ended up not going. Who wants to do something just to have a memory of it? It's kind of hard to explain....

It's the same kind of thought when it comes to the gym or cleaning. I have the thought that I'll be glad I went afterward. Why do it if I don't enjoy it in the moment?

I want to LIVE my LIFE. I don't want to have a goal to have already done something. I understand things like the gym, cleaning or getting through a big project but not the everyday "fun" things like concerts, reading, etc. What does that say about my life?

Loving Me

I have a thought that is bursting out of me.

I’ve always really liked ONE thing about myself. My hair. I have GREAT hair. I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad haircut; it always looks healthy, shiny, styled. I just have great hair. It’s been the one thing in my life that I have never felt guilty to say I liked about myself. When therapists and nutritionists ask me to make lists of the things I like about myself, “my hair” always makes the list. Sometimes it’s the only thing that makes list and most of the time it’s the only thing I TRULY believe when I write it on the list.

Tonight driving home from the movie “Eat Pray Love” I realized something else I like about myself. I LOVE being smart. I like having knowledge. I enjoy sharing my wisdom with other people but it’s not necessary for me to enjoy it. I like my intellect just for me. I enjoy figuring things out, solving problems, putting things together and understanding complicated thoughts. My intellectual abilities enhance my life.

This isn’t a prideful or superior thing. (Neither is my hair.) I don’t think I am smarter than the rest of the people on the earth. (Nor do I think I have the BEST hair on the earth.) It’s simply a quality about me that I value. It’s a quality that I don’t feel bad for admitting I like in myself.

I’m not sure what else I like about myself. Two things at 28 years old seem like a pretty short list but I feel blessed. I’m blessed to have ANYTHING I like about myself. I’d like to grow the list. At times there have been more items on the list but not items I felt comfortable with admitting or believed to the extent I believe these two items.

It’s very calming to understand I like myself, even if for just two reasons. It gives me the same emotion as snuggling on the couch with my favorite softest blankets. I’m smiling. I’m at peace and I’m comfortable. Not because I am smart or have great hair but because I KNOW I am smart and ENJOY my hair. Because I am loving myself….

Dialogue - Flashback

I recently (2 days ago) had a flashback of the last rape I experienced. This doesn't happen often to me. I've been raped twice. At times I actually feel lucky that I can't remember anything (due to drinking or being drugged) of the first time. The second one is enough for me to handle. Both were traumatic (memories or not).

I decided a long time ago not to press charges. My thought is that one of the two lives involved has already been ruined, why ruin the man's life too. I'm told this is a compassionate view. I'm also told it's a codependent view. It is very much based out of the idea that I feel like it was my fault and he (both men) may not even think he did anything wrong.

I've recently come to realize that no matter what I call it, who I blame or how little I remember of it, the incident affected my life negatively.

One of my parts holds those events. I've written about her before. It's Pandora. She let the box open and everything spilled out. On Friday in the middle of shaking, remembering and reliving the event I didn't take the time to check in with any of my parts. Today they burst forward in the middle of church and demanded to be heard.

It started with a general sadness. I was deeply sad and lonely today. I could tell that The Monster was activated as he filled the place where my heart should be. It seeped into my body from my throat to my stomach. I began journaling just to observe The Monster. It's very hard for me to connect with this part or understand it. Here's what came out as I wrote:

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It is a chaotic, thundering, anxious storm of loneliness and despair. I want to curl up, sink into the floor, hide, scream, cry and die. It (The Monster) is very amorphous. It has no boundaries. It cannot be contained. It has access to everyone and everywhere. It is out of control. It is extremely reactionary. It's overwhelmed and over whelming.

I wasn't getting much from general observation that I didn't already know so I began to dialogue:
Me: What are you trying to do or tell me, Monster?

The Monster: There's too much packed away. You HAVE to clean some of this out. I can't hold it anymore. It's unrealistic.

Me: I don't know how to do that. It hasn't been working. Why aren't any of you releasing and unburdening the things you hold? I can't change what happened!

The Monster: You have to listen. You have to do something different.

Me: There are too many to listen to. Too many stories and too much pain. How do I ever have enough time?

~~~At this point The Monster was replaced by The Protector. I didn't realize it at first though.~~~

The Protector: Deal with the things that hurt and affect you the most first. You MUST spend time with us. It is the only way you will know us.

Me: I'm worried I won't be able to handle it. I'm worried my therapist (or anyone else) will not be able to help me.

The Protector: She can and will. You are the one who will really do all the work though.

Me (this is when I heard that it was The Protector): Hello Protector. I'm glad you're here. What happened with Pandora? Where were you?

The Protector: It's not her fault. I opened the safe. I let out the stories, images and past.

Me: Did you tell her? Did you warn her? She's scared. She's hiding. She feels like she failed.

The Protector: I did not. She would have never let me help.

Me: How can you say that was help? How can you call yourself a Protector? Who are you really? What about Pandora?

The Protector: I AM your protector. It's time to deal with it. I want the best for you. Let's talk to Pandora. She needs to know she did a good job.

Pandora: How can you say that!?!? I failed! My only job was to keep that hidden!

The Protector: That WAS your job. It killed you though. You did it very well all this time. You didn't and still don't know the whole plan. Your job was to hide it until the girl (ME) could deal with it.

Me (feeling genuine concern): I'm so sorry Pandora. I'm sorry you had to do that in the first place. I'm sorry you don't feel any other purpose or sense of worth.

The Protector: You are beautiful Pandora. You can rest. You will have another job. Remember how we made this chair for you? Will you sit in it. (Pandora had been huddled up in a dark corner hiding and crying. The Protector takes her hand and leads her to the chair. She sits down and continues to cry.) It's okay. I'll stay with you. We are okay now (addressing me). You can go back to the church bookstore.

Me: Can I?! This was a lot. How do I smile now? I'm blank.

The Monster: I know. I have to take this. I'll do my best but I'm almost at capacity.

Abuse?

I've been dreading seeing my step father. Today the feeling is more intense since I have to see him tonight. I generally always dread seeing him but it's been much worse in the past couple months.

It seems like every time I've seen him in the past couple months, he's done something to hurt me or the family. Examples: hit my sister just walking by because she didn't read his mind and do his job, refuse to see any of us because his pride was hurt, insult my mom multiple times, belittle my brother, cuss us all out....

Why would I want to spend any time with him?

I just got the "warning" call from my mom. I get them often. They always have the same basic script. "You should come over a little later than originally planned because something happened to piss him off and now he's in an even worse mood than normal." This is my mother's speak for 'I'm trying to minimize the pain he will inflict on you and get you prepared to deal with the hell that's about to ensue.' I'm not sure if she consciously knows that's what she's saying but she delivers the message well.

I'm honestly glad to have the extra 30 minutes or so to prepare but who should ever have to PREPARE to see their step father. I appreciate the information but at the same time it's almost not worth it. It just builds the anxiety and I usually end the call with asking if mom is okay.... Codependent, much? You see these messages from my mom never include the option to just not come or the glimpse of hope that she's actually told him what an ass he is and won't put up with it anymore.

Is this abuse?

Jumbled Up and Messy

Today's been hard. Harder than most days. (I feel like I say that a lot...)

I've been doing much better with my eating disorder behaviors. I haven't been binging, purging or restricting much at all.

I saw my nutritionist today. I've been waiting almost 2 weeks to see her. She's very helpful for me. She's changing her hours though and won't have any time available when I'm not working. I immediately became almost hopeless and felt abandoned again. I feel like I rely too much on her but what else can I do? I feel like I have to learn to rely on someone to regain faith in people. Everyone has let me down. I wish I could see her more but she's expensive and now our schedules clash. She helps me so much though. I'm worried I won't get to see her at all now. I don't know what to do.

One of the things I discussed with her today is the sexual assault I've experienced. It's not a topic I can speak of freely. I didn't even get into the details of it with her but it was still hard. We talked about how it's affected my food and eating. I've seen my nutritionist close to four years now. I had the eating disorder before the sexual assault but I began to wonder if the eating disorder would have been nearly as bad if the sexual assault had not happened.
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I'm debating on if I want to report the assault to the police. I heard of this organization called the Victim Service Center. It helps people who have been victims. As I've begun to think more and more about it, it's coming back. I've never really healed from it. I can't push it aside anymore if I want to be in recovery. I just don't know if reporting it will help me at all. What if it's just more pain without any justice or help? I would like it if the center could give me a grant to pay for therapy and nutrition counseling but I also feel like I'm steeling. I feel like my case isn't that bad and I don't deserve the money. I'm scared to tell my story because it hasn't helped the few times I did.

I found myself in a flashback today. (Probably because I was talking about it earlier.) I was shaking and crying and hopeless and wanted to die. I felt the same things I did that night. On one hand I feel like I'm over dramatizing it but on the other hand I feel like I was a victim. I really don't know what to do.
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I've been spending some time with a girl from Celebrate Recovery. I like her. We get along well and she's pretty easy to be around. Tonight, I'm not sure what happened though. I feel like I was too much for her to handle. Or maybe I was giving too much advice. Or maybe she was just dealing with her own stuff. After CR we had planned to have dinner but she left. She called me on her way out. I figured she still wanted to have dinner so I asked where she wanted to go. When I met her at the restaurant she was kind of upset. I listened and offered sympathy and advice when I could.

After I thought she was sort of done venting and being upset I started to tell her about what was going on for me today. I felt like she was frustrated by me. I felt like she thought I should be doing more for my recovery. At one point she asked me several things about if I had a sponsor, if I was working the steps, if I had an accountability partner and told me how that's the point of CR. She also sort of lectured me on why binging and purging is bad for me. (She's a recovered bulimic so I know she understands.) She told me I should do a different type of therapy. She said that she wishes I saw in myself what she sees in me. That sounds like a compliment and it was but then she started telling me that I should be using my spiritual gifts more to give back. She was telling me I should be a leader in CR and that I didn't need to sing in the band (which is what I want to do. Was she telling me I'm a bad singer?) When do I get to be "given to?" Why do I have to keep giving up and giving up and giving up? When is God going to fill into me! I know that's selfish, especially because I have so much and have been in therapy for years. I should have it all figured out right? So what does that say about me if I don't have it figured out.

I don't know what she was trying to say. Why did she say all that? Why couldn't she let me be sad and empathize with me? I wanted to share my story a little bit with her and get some advice on how to handle the emotions that have been coming up for me. I didn't want to get a lecture. I think I need a break from her for a few days. I've seen her 3 days in this week and talked to her almost every day. That's much more than I usually do.
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I can't sleep in my bed tonight. That's a tale tell sign that the sexual assault is really bothering me. I've got my stuff to sleep on the couch all set out. I slept on my couch for a week after the last incident happened. I could barely go into my room for days.

Recovery Again

So I'm back in recovery. I'm NOT thrilled about it though. I'm still very much on the fence and there is a strong pull to restrict. I ate 2 desserts yesterday and literally hated myself for it! I went to bed wishing I would die because of what I ate. I didn't purge it because I know ED is still running the show. I'm trying to separate and disobey his commands.

I have been eating disorder symptom free for almost 3 days.

My greatest fear is still that I will be alone forever. I was reading TIME Magazine today. The entire magazine is about Mother Teresa. I am fascinated by this woman. It says that she was not "called to be a wife." Maybe she was happy about that but what about me? I know God doesn't call us all to marriage but I want it soooooooooooo badly. But I often don't know why I want it.

My therapist asked me if I could be in a relationship while still in a relationship with ED? I don't know. The books and professionals say that you can't but empirical data has proven otherwise. Many of my friends with ED have been in good supportive relationships. What do you think? Can someone have a healthy romantic relationship while engaging in an eating disorder? Why or why not?

TERRIFIED

I am terrified TERRIFIED of being FAT, gaining weight, being the size my clothes keep telling me I am and just plain having any normal body size. This may seem odd to the people who know me, since I am well into the obese range of weight.

I've been binging, purging and restricting for 17 days now. I've managed to retain the equivalent of about 1 meal a day. I've "successfully" lost about 5 pounds.

As I laid in bed tonight it hit me. While terror may reside in sizes, weights and the mirror, my true anguish comes from the thought, "I don't want to be alone."

I have a new friend of mine (who's in recovery) to thank for that statement. She called me today and said those words at one point during the conversation. She was referencing something totally different. In the moment I felt a note ring in my body, like the feeling one gets when a cello solo resonates with a single expressive sound. In the moment I figured my heart was jumping in compassion for my friend. I didn't give it another thought until I was curled up in bed trying to get to sleep despite my growling stomach and dreams of food.

I'm not sure how I got that moment of clarity but I thank God for it. I began to cry, not your average couple tears on the pillow cry. I'm talking all out, scared the neighbors will hear, mascara everywhere, fetal position, gut wrenching sob. (FYI - I don't cry alone normally. I just can't.) That thought is my motivation for SOOOOOOOOOO much.

I'm reading a book (Life Without ED) for a therapeutic book discussion group. It's a great book but it's not helping me. I keep thinking about the lessons the author is giving but I fight the truth in them. I'm not sure what I want to do next. I'm tired of not eating. I LIKE FOOD! Now that I know the "why" in my relapse, what next? I feel like I need to get into see my Nutritionist or Therapist but what will that say about me? I can't even get myself to eat unless I pay a healthcare professional to coach me? I'm unsure of who is talking at any point lately. Is it ED or Me? Those two voices aren't any different any more or maybe my voice is just gone. Then I remember what the author said, "Whatever it takes." Am I ready to do whatever it takes? I know the "whatever" is never the fun side of recovery. I don't get to talk my way through malnutrition. If I could, I'd be cured! Talking about feelings and relaxation techniques are the fun side of recovery. "Whatever" generally boils down to eating when I'm hungry and stopping when I'm full. I know I have to just BITE THE BULLET (pun intended) but even my cry didn't get me into the kitchen to make a meal or even drink some milk.

My current plan is to go to work without eating or drinking anything and weigh myself on the scale in shipping. Then I'll make up my mind what my next step is. How terrible is that!?

My fears are outweighing my better judgment and logic. I want to be a certain weight for my cousin's wedding. I hate weddings. It's just another reminder of how ALONE I am. And this one is with my entire family in a small city, while we stay in one giant house TOGETHER! (SAVE ME!) I want to show them I've lost weight. I want a boyfriend. I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE AND BEING FAT JUST KEEPS ME ALONE!

The Let Down

I have this feeling I call “The Let Down.” It comes on when things end, when I “lose” people, after big events. It leads to lots of my ED behaviors because Ed likes to tell me that if I binge / purge / restrict the feeling will go away.

I went to this really neat presentation / speech Monday night where I had a great time. Below are some of the thoughts I was able to capture after the event:

I'm really trying to think of this as a transition instead of an end but it just feels like an end. It’s like tomorrow it may as well had never happened because it’s over. Emptiness is all that is left behind. It may never happen again and unless its ALWAYS going on its not good enough.

All or nothing...

I'm so sad. I feel lost and alone. I feel unimportant and unnecessary.

Why doesn't anyone love me?

(At this point I binged)

And so I eat and it all goes away. Everything stops. Nothing matters but the food. Taste or not. Good or not. Hungry or not. Numbness, tingling and throbbing surges through my body.

Then the heaviness again. The discomfort in the stomach. The guilt from eating and the fear of FAT. Panic sets in as fear grows. Fear of further rejection because of FAT. Fear of what I have done.

A way out. I must find a way out. Have to get rid of it. NOW! There's only one way out of this rabbit hole and its not pretty. Shame. Secrecy. Disgust. Anxiety. Inevitable.

(At this point I purged, which left my thoughts very jumbled and unformed and desperate, as you can see below)

Lost. Useless. Unlovable. Worthless. Alone. Pointless.

Tired. Dry. Hot. Throbbing. Headache.

Sad. Disgusting.

Life is not worth living. The only thing that matters is being skinny. I'm sooooooooooo NOT. I'm obese. I've become my worst enemy. My worst nightmare has come true!

That stuff Rita was saying. Its not true. People don't help each other out. There's no light at the end of the tunnel.

I'm a terrible person. I deserve this. I want to die.

Attached and Hurting "Reprise"

There are three songs that HIT me after I posted my last post. They are:

Wishing You Were Somehow Hear Again

You were once my one companion
You were all that mattered
You were once a friend and father
Then my world was shattered

Wishing you were somehow here again
Wishing you were somehow near
Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed
Somehow you would be here

Wishing I could hear your voice again
Knowing that I never would
Dreaming of you won't help me to do
All that you dreamed I could

Passing bells and sculpted angels
Cold and monumental
Seem for you the wrong companions
You were warm and gentle

Too many years fighting back tears
Why can't the past just die?

Wishing you were somehow here again
Knowing we must say goodbye
Try to forgive, teach me to live
Give me the strength to try

No more memories, no more silent tears
No more gazing across the wasted years
Help me say goodbye
Help me say goodbye


Hurt

Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face
You told me how proud you were but I walked away
If only I knew what I know today
Ooh, Oooh..

I would hold you in my arms
I would take the pain away
Thank you for all you've done
Forgive all your mistakes
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To hear your voice again
Sometimes I want to call you
But I know you won't be there

OOh, I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself, by hurting you.

Somedays I feel broke inside but I will not admit
Sometimes I just want to hide, cause it's you I miss
And it's so hard to say goodbye
When it comes to this
Oooh, Yeah..

Would you tell me I was wrong?
[ Lyrics found on [Link](Mouse over link to see full location) ]

Would you help me understand?
Are you looking down upon me?
Are you proud of who I am?
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To have just one more chance
To look into your eyes
And see you looking back

OOh, I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself, Oooh..

If I had just one more day
I would tell you how much
That I've missed you since
You've been away.
Oooh, It's dangerous
so out of line...
to try and turn back time...

I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself..

By hurting you...

You Raise Me Up

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary,
When troubles come and my heart burdened be.
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.
CHORUS:
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders
You raise me up.. to more than I can be.
REPEAT CHORUS
There is no life - no life without it's hunger
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly
But when you come and I am filled with wonder
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas
And I am strong, when I am on your shoulders
You raise me up .. to more than I can be
You raise me up .. to more than I can be

Attached and Hurting

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to think about two of my old therapists without crying. I even start to think about my current therapist and want to cry for the day I will have to say goodbye. I fear that’s going to be soon as I might be taking a pay cut.

My attachment issues are very deep seated. I can’t believe how upset I am today and since Friday over two of my old therapists. I will call them Beth-Anne and Dawn.

Beth-Anne, I saw for about 3 years from 2003 to 2006. I saw her from the time I returned to school after a medical withdraw to the time I went into residential treatment and then about 6 months after treatment. It was a very hard time for me. I looked forward to my time with Beth-Anne.

She had a way of portraying to me that I’m not crazy. She’s also the only person I’ve ever met (and very well may be the only person I will ever meet) who REALLY understood my family situation. :’( I am sooooooooooo sad not to have her in my life. She’s such a great person: funny, insightful, silly, loving, confident.

When I had to stop seeing her professionally I tried to be friends with her. We e-mail several times and went to a play together. Then she e-mailed me one day that she couldn’t spend any more time with me because of ethical reasons. I felt so betrayed, alone and heart-broken. Why did it affect me so much? It’s 4 years later and I am still heart-broken. I don’t feel like anyone could understand this pain. When I tell people, they look at me as if I’m crazy.

About a year ago, I severed all contact with her. I decided it wasn’t emotionally safe to e-mail her every now and then or see her on facebook. I wrote her an e-mail explaining several things and wishing her well. I hoped this would give me some closure. Friday, I saw someone who looked like she could be Beth-Anne’s sister. I’m in a group with her so I have to see her often. Looking at this woman hurts. And days later, it still hurts.

Dawn, I saw for about 2 or 3 years (approximately 2007 to 2009). I decided that I wanted to see her almost a year before I started seeing her. From the first few minutes I talked to her over the phone, I knew she was the therapist God sent me to get better.

She was like my Angel and even looked like an Angel. She had a soft voice, friendly sky blue eyes, flowing blond hair and a very nurturing demeanor. She was very expensive for me so I had to wait until I got a better job. I saw her from about a year after I moved back to Orlando with my parents after another suicide gesture and a medical leave from work, to the point where I enrolled in her Intensive Outpatient Program.

When I finished a month in IOP, she and I had a disagreement about finances and I decided not to see her anymore. I was furious by her accusing me of trying to take advantage of her and the fact that she had never worked with me over finances. I was so confused by why God would take her away from me but I had spent all my money on this IOP and couldn’t pay my bills. It did not end well.

About a month after I stopped seeing her, I asked to start seeing her again. She agreed but when we went to schedule appointments she couldn’t fit me into her schedule. I was making all kinds of sacrifices (financially and time-wise) but I just wasn’t important enough to her.

I’m still dealing with the insurance company on a claim for the IOP program and I have to mail her something today. I looked up her address on her website. Her picture was posted and her blue eyes were piercing. I don’t think I want to see her anymore because we had a sort of “love / hate” relationship and she’s very strict about time and money. My feelings toward her were always very intense and much of the time I would be angry over some challenge or ultimatum she was giving me. I just can’t shake her from my thoughts. I wish I had never met her. Then I wish all I could do is see her again. My heart longs for her... or what she gave me but I don't even know what that was.

I’m guessing I got slightly enmeshed or codependent or something with both of them. These two examples are the strongest examples I have of my attachment disorder. It’s years later and the pain has not subsided. Why not? How do I hold on to these pains? Will they ever go away?

Skills of Perception

I enjoy the sci fi show called Doctor Who. I am watching an episode right now that involves Vincent Van Gogh. At the end of the show the two main characters and Vincent are staring up at the sky. Vincent starts to describe the sky as he sees it. He's describing Starry Night. In the TV picture, the actual sky turns into the painting, Starry Night.

I'm told by my current therapist that I have some extra-ordinary skills of perception. I have an excellent sense of smell. I can hear more than most people (to the point that I can identify a person by the sound of their walk). I am also extra sensitive. I get migraines and suffer from mental health issues. I'm told these two things are characteristic of people who have a "sensitive brain." I believe all these things but sometimes I wonder why I have these "extra skills." What makes me so special? I don't understand this negative sceptisism.... It's got the same tone as the part that keeps me stuck in my eating disorder. It's the part that repeats things like "How dare you think life could be good? You're no princess. You'll work hard and get nothing out of life, just like the rest of us. The sooner you stop putting on aires the sooner you will be able to do something useful in your life."

At times it's nice to have these extra perceptive skills. I haven't found the great contribution they make in my life, but I am thankful most of the time. It's nice to be able to read people, sort of tell what they are thinking. There are many times that I wish I didn't have them though. They lead to things like migraines and severe emotional states.

I learned that many good artists have these kind of skills. Hence, the Vincent Van Gogh reference in the beginning of this post. He had extra-ordinary skills of perception but where did it get him... suicide at 37. He never got to see the extent of his fame. I would like to be a good artist but then I hear things like that one part says and decide to stick to something more practical even if it's depressing.

Need a Hug!

I think I need a hug but I don't have anyone to give it to me. I can hug my kitties but it's just not the same. I called a friend but she was busy.

I am in a bit of a funk. I think this funk has been hanging around for several days. I decided that I wanted to do nothing but rest, relax and have fun this weekend to try to recuperate a bit. Now it's Sunday and the start of the work week is closing in fast. I have so many thoughts, interests, conflicts, desires, lists of things to do that I'm dizzy.

I decided to visit my family (mother and step father) after church to be a "good" daughter... bad choice! I did have a couple things to drop off to my mom and she made me lunch but my step father was in "a mood." It wasn't terrible but I could tell he is headed toward a blow up. I got out as fast as I could. Why does he have to be so difficult?

Little Part: I don't understand him at all. I don't like him.

Now all I want to do is binge. I ate a cookie when I got home and hoped I could stop there. If I can't find some sort of comfort I fear this day will end up in an episode....

What do I do though? My therapist and a couple other people I've worked with would say something about just sitting with the feelings or feeling the pain. I feel the pain but why would anyone choose to stay in it?! That seems masochistic! I don't want to binge and purge but I don't want to be sad, disappointed, hurt, abandoned and neglected either! What's my other option?

How does a single woman, who lives alone feel loved? I've got no one to support me right now. I should be able to "Fully Rely On God" but does God give out hugs and rocks me to sleep, while singing and hubing my head? No, God gives reasons why I can't have those things. God gives lessons and opportunities for growth. He disciplines and instructs and guides. Where's the god who loves and is always there for me? Where is the god of the poem, "Footsteps?"

Lonely

I'm really lonely and I feel hopeless. I wish I could feel happy, content and useful. The truth is, I may never feel those things. The realist in me says, "Life sucks then you die." It's true. Children starve to death, women are beat by thier husbands, good people go bankrupt and become homeless, people die of terrible diseases they don't deserve. Who am I to deserve or even wish for anything better? So I find myself again wondering, "Why bother?" Why live?

Friends?

I'm having trouble with my friends lately. I don't have many friends ... I can really only count 3, maybe 3 and a 1/2. I need to keep my friends.

I know there are always two sides to every story so I'm trying to stay open minded and give them the benefit of the doubt.

I'm having the trouble with 3 friends.

The first one (we will call Katie) I know through work and we both sell Arbonne products. (She's like my mentor in the Arbonne business.) I figured Katie is suppose to help me get my Arbonne business into a profitable position... I guess I was wrong. It seems like everytime I want her help or need something from her, she's too busy. I've asked her several times to help me with stuff but she's either too late in her response or simply says she doesn't have the time. I think my problem is that I think of Arbonne like a sorority instead of a business. I sort of figured I would just have parties, talk to people and make a bunch of money. IT'S NOT WORKING! I don't think I want to work this hard in a month to make $50!

The second friend I'm having trouble with (we will call her Alison) I've known since high school. She's a therapist now and has really been a good friend. She's made some choices I wouldn't have wished for her (like getting a giant tattoo, joining a "swingers" crowd and marrying a loser) but she's still a good friend and person. I asked her to go to this workshop for friends and family of people who have eating disorders. I wrote this long e-mail explaining what I wanted her to get out of it and why I thought she would benefit from it. I even sent her a reminder. She told me she didn't want to pay the money to hear the stuff she went to school for just over a year ago. If she really already knows this stuff, why does she say some of the things she does to me about food??? She never called to talk to the counselor like she said she would. This kind of stuff you don't learn in a book. This workshop was about hearing from people who really LIVE it. She called me on the night of the workshop to have dinner with her!!! She had totally forgotten about it. I didn't want to go see her and I was very closed off. I kept trying to come up with excuses but I couldn't. I went because I think our friendship is more important and I'm trying not to continue to isolate.

The third friend is someone I don't know VERY well but was starting to get close to. She just opened her own gym and invited me to be a vendor at her Grand Opening. I was all ready when she told me (via e-mail) that I could come to the event but not sell anything. She just wanted me to be "entertainment." I probably would have been okay with that if she would have told me the week before! Instead she filled me in on all the details by text messages and e-mail. How RUDE! I felt rather taken advantage of and manipulated. I've had enough of that in my life from family, I don't need it from friends! I went to her class tonight, all pumped up and ready to tell her off if she so much as looked at me funny. I spent a good hour rehearsing what I would say to her. When I got there, she was fine. I am glad I didn't "let it rip" but I don't feel much better. Why do I feel guilty? I didn't do anything wrong but I feel like I owe her an apology or something. I feel as if I really did tell her off. I feel like I'm taking advantage of her. I REALLY don't understand that!

I just feel so hopeless and lonely today. It's like I keep thinking ... life gets continually more difficult then we die.... Morbid, huh?

Where's my motivation? Where's my purpose? Where's my joy? Where's the damn crown God promised as "his little princess?" Where's my night in shining armor? What's my fairytale ending? Why isn't anything ever good enough?

Celebrate Recovery

I went to Celebrate Recovery for the first time at my current church. I've been before when I lived on Gainesville. It was much better tonight but I'm still unsure. I've been to OA, Celebrate Recovery, AA, EDA and I don't know of I want to open my life up to the 12 steps again. Its almost like its own little world. I want recovery and my way isn't working. I'll probably go back next week. I know I have to give it at least three tries but I'm not committing beyond that yet.

Random Thoughts

I'm totally straight but I think this woman is one of the most attractive women I've ever seen. She's an actress I noticed in an episode of NCIS.

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I've been having trouble with the fact that I'll probably never like my job. I wish someone would pay me to sleep! Or... write a blog!

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I really need a massage!

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I'm doing this show for Arbonne, the wonderful health and wellness company I work with but I'm worried about it. The friend I'm doing it with isn't being very helpful and another person who sort of mentors me isn't being very helpful either! AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!

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I started keeping a food journal again. I'm not sure how long that will last or if it's worth it.

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I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO!!!!!!!!!!

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I just ordered a pizza and it's soooooooooooo worth the calories!

Spaghetti Dinner

Somehow I found the motivation to exercise at home after missing my class at the gym due to traffic! After my exercising, I had to make dinner. I've had a plan to cook spaghetti with meat sauce for several days now and have just been too tired.

I made a great salad (which is saying a lot since I don't normally like salad) and my spaghetti dinner. I enjoyed making it, despite how tired I usually am at the end of the day. I haven't cooked this dinner in probably a year but it has such a family feel to it. I was pleased with my effort to cook a balanced meal and take care of myself. I sat down (on the couch with the TV on) to eat my salad and already shut off. I didn't taste it. I didn't smell it. I didn't even realize I was almost done with my salad (that I had actually been craving for about a week). I started to feel cheated! I felt like someone had stolen that salad from me. I turned off the TV and told myself that if I wanted to enjoy my meal I was going to have to enjoy myself as company. I knew this was fairly uncharted territory and had lead to trouble in the past but took the chance.

I ate the rest of the salad and tasted it well enough. There were only a couple bites left. I was still eating sort of fast though (which may be slow for other people). I got my spaghetti with meat sauce. I ended up getting about 2 helpings worth b/c I REALLY don't know how to gauge the right amount of pasta. I ended up only eating about half so it turned out okay.

While eating though, it was definitely a rocky path. I had to turn on music because the quiet was too much but all was good at first. It tasted good. It was exactly what I wanted. Then I started to hear the sound that pasta makes and it started to gross me out. I tried not to listen. I also realized that I was trying to "eat perfectly." (You know, like a good little girl with perfect manners, a pink bow, white lace socks and rosy cheeks would eat. The little girl my Granny raised. I call her the Doll and she's never done anything wrong.) I had been taking the perfect proportion of sauce to noodle in each bite. I had been taking a bite of bread every 2nd or 3rd bite but never more. I had been drinking my milk between every 2nd or 3rd bite as well. So I, rather spitefully and rebelliously, took a bite of only the meat sauce and then only the spaghetti and then a giant bite of the MIDDLE of the bread (no crust). I'd like to say then I smiled but I really felt a little silly and a little "in trouble."

I started to hear the sound I was making while eating, similar to the sound of the noodles. (Is it common for people with ED to be grossed out by the sounds of eating?) Then I started to hear all the "voices" in my head. The spaghetti meals past with family and old friends played in my head. I had to close my eyes at times to try and focus on things like smell, taste, texture and even knowing I was eating. Feeling things like chewing and swallowing. How can I be soooooo easily disconnected from these things? I never realized how VERY unaware and not present I am while eating until recently. I had a newspaper sitting on the couch beside me so I picked up the funny section and started to read while eating. I almost gave up and turned the TV on at one point but decided to test my "distress tolerance" level. The anxiety continued to build as I ate and tried to stay connected while focusing my mind on specific topics. I wanted to keep out the bad thoughts. I started to notice that I was making those big sighs... you know how people who are full sigh. I was much less connected at this point to myself but hanging on for dear life. I had to stop between bites a couple times to try and listen to my body. I figured I was at about a 7 on the hunger / satiety scale and remembered my nutritionist saying an 8 is a good ending point. I ate a couple more bites and waited to see "where I was." I decided a couple more bites and I would be done. I wanted the garlic bread I had made so I ate that and finished.

By the time I was done, the bad thoughts were too close for comfort. I sat for a moment in near panic as my mind scanned the time I had swallowed half a bottle of advil. My motivation to do it again was confusing. How could a GOOD meal cause these thoughts? Self harm was not an option so ED jumped in and yelled "COOKIES, WE NEED COOKIES!!!!!" Someone inside knew that was wrong too. I was having a huge war over trying to keep this meal for me versus giving it up to ED to destroy with binging or purging. I needed distraction. I had spent enough time connected. I called a friend. She wasn't there. I dared to call someone that I've just recently met. I needed to do the dishes and stay distracted. This friend was there. We chatted with small talk but I don't think she'll ever know how much she saved me tonight with simple conversations about TV shows and children and cleaning.

Pushing Through

Today's been a really hard day. My motivation level is in the negative range. I can't think of any reason why. I should be happier. I have a bunch of financial stress but it's getting better. I made an extra $20 today tutoring which should be able to get me through to my next pay check.

I had a difficult evening last night. I went to a movie with a friend who seemed rather antagonistic towards me and I can't figure out why. Then I had the most horrible cramps that kept me awake from about 3:30 to 6:30am. I missed church this morning to sleep in.

Despite the depressed mood, I'm actually pretty proud of myself. I've managed to work on the Arbonne poster a bit, clean out the fridge, return something, get some gas and a newspaper, tutor one of my clients, fold 2 loads of laundry and now I'm getting ready to watch church on-line (just can't get myself to go) and clip coupons.

My "zombie" part that gets stuff done and ignores the emotion has stepped in a lot this weekend. She's not the one that shuts me down, she's the one that puts one foot in front of the other. She doesn't deal with the emotion but it still weighs her down. She doesn't have a name now and I'm not sure "she's" not a "he." I'm thankful for her / him / it. I wish that part didn't have to step in though. Life isn't much fun with all these parts. It's kind of confusing. It's so unpredictable.

Little One

One of my Little Ones came out in public. I hate to say it, but I was embarrassed. I know she hears me but when I think back on what my friend must have thought.... She looked at me kinda funny and then responded to me like she would her child.

Me: I was talking to my friend about possibly doing something later when I said, "But, I need help." It was more of a whine than a statement.

My friend: "What I needed help with."

Me: (a different part said) "I'm not sure. I can probably do the Arbonne stuff on my own. I feel like your little girl... 'Mommy, I need you.'"

I shrugged it off and we went our separate ways.

In the car on the way home that little one was still waiting for help. I asked her what she needed. She said she just needed to be loved. I don't know how to do that for her. I don't know what that means. She wants someone to hold her. Victoria stepped in and decided to push Mae to go to a wine tasting so we can meet a man that will hold us. I don't think that's the right answer though either.

I wanted to go out and spend money. I realized I was trying to fill a void. I'm doing to the little one what my dad (and Granny) does. She doesn't want stuff. She wants someone to love and take care of her. How do I do that?

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Me: Little One, I love you but I don't know how to show it in a way you would like. What do you want me to do.

Little One: I'm hungry, you haven't given me anything to eat all day. And I want to cuddle.

Me: I can get something to eat for you and snuggle up on the couch with the cats. Is that okay?

Little One: I guess. Can we color too?

Me: Yes. What do you want to eat?

ED: We have to eat the salad and left overs.

Little One: But I don't want that. Plus, Mommy says it would make us sick because it was sitting out. Can't you have that later when you buy new ones?

Me: Yes, this is your time Little One. Ed, can you give us this time and work on something else.

ED: I'll still be here when you are done. Just like last night. How could you have thought we wouldn't throw that up?

Me: We were trying to have comfort food with balance and mindfulness. This is Little One's time. She needs to eat to get big. She knows what she needs and wants.

Little One: My turn?

Me: Yep!

Little One: Yay!
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After that, we ate chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese (unfortunately they were soy chicken nuggets and whole grain mac - n - cheese). My mannerisms even changed a little. I found myself dancing around the kitchen like I used to as a child.

My decisions were made as if I was a child... my thinking pattern changed to that of a child's. I drank a coke and thought about how it's a big girl drink..... I curled up on the couch with my blankets and watched a couple black and white movies, like I used to with mom when I was little. I had a snack of peanut butter and jelly cracker sandwiches and chocolate milk, too. We didn't color yet but it feels like the little one is sleeping. I will color if she wants to.

Fun Finally

I was actually able to have some FUN this past weekend. I figured out a little bit more what things are fun for me. I can’t believe this is such a hard issue.

Friday a friend came over about 4:30 to have a couple glasses of wine, a light dinner and play with some of the great new Arbonne make-up. Once we were all ready, we met up with several other people to see the movie “Sex and the City.” After the movie we went to the Cheesecake Factory for appetizers and a martini.

It was GREAT! I didn’t feel out of control. I felt appreciated and included. I like movies and would rather do things that are “low key” then go dancing or drinking. I just end up embarrassed, ashamed or humiliated when I try to do those things. I am so much more of a home body. I guess I should stop trying to be something else.

Running Away

In my last post I was contemplating running away from therapy, nutrition counseling and recovery. I was feeling so trapped. Trapped by work, my house and life in general. My company isn't doing well and I'm fearful of my job. I have no savings and paying so much each week for recovery doesn't allow me to save. It's a scary place to be. I also feel myself getting more and more attached to my team, which is ALSO a scary place to be.

I had a thought that everything would be better if I didn't have to see my team. It was a thought that came from a completely different part of my brain. It actually confused me. It was as if the thought was in a different language. The tone, urgency and everything was different about it. It was a very compulsive thought and would not wait for contemplation. It demanded action.

In a very disconnected moment, I impulsively and reactively canceled all my appointments with my team via e-mail.

I was at work and immediately got up to go to a meeting. I had to walk through a dark room and it was as if I never left the darkness. I was filled with shame, abandon, hopelessness, fear and desperation. All the reasons why I wanted to stop therapy and why I wanted to continue therapy started pouring out of me. The system began fighting each other. I couldn't handle more than about 10 minutes of it before I went into "shutdown" or BSOD (blue screen of death). It was World War 3 in my head. After several days I was able to gain some insight with a dialogue session. It's transcribed below.
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Facilitator: Parts, I want to hear what you think about what happened this week when we decided to stop therapy. Why did we decide that? A few of the parts I want to hear from (but not limited to) are Victoria, The Protector and my little ones.

Victoria: We tried the therapist's way. I don't have anything against her but why continue to do something that's not helping. I'm trying to be practical. I'm taking care of you. Yes, I am the one that canceled the appointments. We have lots to do. Money ends. You can't get more if it's gone. The therapist has to make a living but we have to budget better. Therapy and nutrition counseling is a luxury. One we can't indulge in anymore. We need to focus time, effort and money on the house, Arbonne, savings. It's the right decision.

Facilitator: Little Ones, why are you trembling?

Little Ones (many voices): She's locking us up again. The closet isn't a good place. The therapist has opened the door. We don't want to go back in. We want to see the therapist. She listens. We haven't had any fun before we started seeing her. Are we bad Why don't you want us? (crying) Why is Victoria so mean?

Facilitator: You aren't bad. I want you but I'm confused, tired and don't know what to do. Don't worry Little Ones. Victoria isn't trying to hurt you. We all have a job and we don't always want the same things. We all had a hard few days and Victoria was taking control. We will learn to work together more. ... I want to hear from The Protector. What are you protecting from? Why did you let Victoria do that?

The Protector: Pieces of us are very hard for the little ones to be around. The Monster is one of the very scary parts. We all want to get threw to the Monster but we have to do it differently. Victoria make a good decision. I will help more but we have to contain better. The therapist doesn't know what The Monster holds. We have to go slow.

Facilitator: How? Can we continue with the Therapist?

The Protector: Yes, we need to continue. I'm sorry we got hurt. I was distracted. We need to observe The Monster for a bit. We can't let it take over. The Monster holds much more than could ever fit in Pandora's box. You don't need to be scared but you need to understand how hard this is going to be.

Facilitator: Okay. We can't do that to the Little Ones again, though. They won't survive much more separation / ending / divorce.

The Protector: You're right. We are not giving up.

What should I do?

I've been toying with the idea of "taking time off from therapy." It sort of popped into my head and now I can't get rid of it. I can't tell if it's a healthy thought or not. I often run from situations when I'm just about to make or have just made some good progress. My therapist can't help me make this decision either.

It all boils down to money. I want to have some money to get stuff done in my house so I can stop feeling like such a failure. I can't do both. My therapist and nutritionist cost almost $500 a month.

It's such a different thought than I was having a week ago. A week ago, I was thinking about spending MORE time and money on recovery. This is why I feel so segmented. It's so much unlike where I was only a few days ago. It's like I switched my thinking entirely.

What do you think I should do?

Sadness and Taste

I had a session with my therapist then my nutritionist today. I had about an hour between sessions so I went to get some coffee down the street. My therapist challenged me to drink it “mindfully.” I figured… no problem, I like my coffee.

While at Starbucks I got something to eat as well, one of those breakfast wraps they are selling now. I hadn’t had breakfast and always feel compelled to eat well on days I see “my people” – meaning therapist and nutritionist.

I was running short on time so I started to eat in the car on the way back to the office. The first couple bites were fairly good. Then I had this sad thought, sort of out of nowhere. I don’t remember the thought and it was gone almost as quickly as it occurred. I know it had something to do with missing people that are no longer in my life.

Once that thought occurred, I lost all taste. I could no longer taste the wrap. As I continued to eat it (because that’s what us eating disordered patients have to do in order to live) the taste was not only non-existent but the texture started to gross me out. As I ate more and more of it, the wrap became disgusting. I also was hyper-aware of the sound my throat made as I swallowed, to the point that I would cringe when I had to swallow. (I was only able to finish about 2/3 of it.)

What does all that mean? Is my ED that connected to sadness? It’s as if the sadness was taken away and replaced by an aversion to eating. Does this make sense with anyone else? Am I a freak!?

I was able to process it with my nutritionist, who said that it’s all kind of connected. She said that connecting to the eating process means having to connect to the sadness as well. By “checking out” of the emotion, I also shut off all my food enjoyment capabilities.

Thinking back, it’s as if The Monster had swooped in and gave me some sadness but ED pushed it aside.

My homework is to stay a bit more connected to everything without letting it take over. Is it possible to pick one thing rather than EVERYTHING! That seems like a lot of feeling for someone who generally stays cut off from the neck down… how do I keep all that emotion and observation from overtaking me?

Money Pit

I've been working on my home most of the day and my mood just took a major plummet! I think it probably has something to do with the minimal amount of food I've eaten today though.

I got all the wallpaper off the walls and finished one coat of paint on my bathroom ceiling. Unfortunately I think it's going to need a second coat. I'm DREADING doing it. I had all these great plans to paint and decorate my bathroom this weekend and all I want to do is sleep.

I keep thinking things like:

Why did I buy this house? All it does is take time and money. I have no one to help me, no one to share it with and no one to even visit! What's the point!? I resent buying this house.

I thought I would feel this sense of accomplishment but I really just want to sell my house and take the money to move somewhere exciting or take a trip to Japan. I always feel so trapped. Why can't I ever simply enjoy myself? I'm tired of responsibility. I'm tired of money. I'm tired of working. I'm tired of laundry. I'm tired of cleaning. I'm tired of dishes. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of my eating disorder. I'm tired of therapy. I'm tired of being TIRED. I'm tired of people. I'm tired of life. I'm tired of EVERYTHING!

I'm actually arguing with myself. I don't know if it's my parts but I caught myself actually telling myself things like "Shut up" and "Get over it."

Everything hurts.... head, neck, back, legs, knees, face....

The Day God's Light Met My Dark

My first thought waking up, before I opened my eyes, Monday morning, May 10th, 2010 was, “I hate my life.”

I pulled myself out of bed, reluctantly lifting off the covers that swaddled me all night in unconscious freedom. It was time to go to work, a place I think of as the outskirts of hell, most of the time. I asked myself, “How much longer will we run on this hamster wheel of nails?” I forced myself to ignore the thought because I had a job to do and “I’m a good girl!” The flipside of that question was, “How will we end this life with no hope? Pills? Knife? Poison?” My mom wouldn’t survive my suicide and what would happen to my cats? The part of me that runs on autopilot stepped in and got to work.

My back hurt that day, so at about 8am I pulled out a bottle of Ibuprofen. I poured 3 pills into my hand then froze. Different parts of me started to debate taking the rest of the bottle. I sat debating for a few minutes in time but hours in my head.

I’ve been in that position several times throughout my life. It’s extremely dark, hopeless, worthless and exhausting. The autopilot part stepped in again and does what it does best in those situations. I started making calls and reaching out to people who seemed like they could help. I e-mailed my therapist and nutritionist. I called a pastoral care counselor at my church and made an appointment.

I went back to work while the debating continued on a lesser scale. The end of the work day was approaching and it was time to make a choice. Several activities I usually enjoy all happen at the same time Monday evenings. I have a couple groups at church, church service and a great yoga class that I chose from weekly. The Monster in the darkness was pulling me toward home, where I knew I would not be safe. I found myself driving to church. I wasn’t sure what I would do there or if I would even stay.

I talked to a friend that works in the bookstore. My first friend at the church and a wonderful woman. It took a few minutes but I mustered the courage to tell her about the suicidal thoughts I have been wrestling with, that have been gaining strength. And there it was … the darkness was out in the open. I was so ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated. How could a woman like me be so thoughtless, selfish and crazy? What would people think about me? Am I really a quitter or am I just tired of being a survivor? My friend hugged me and prayed with me. I sat in the church service, biding my time until the darkness passed.

My church is amazing. The worship leaders, band and singers are abundantly blessed. A song called “Made Me Glad” was played. The lyrics in one part of it are:

Whom have I in heaven but You
There's none I desire besides You
And You have made me glad
And I'll say of the Lord

You are my Shield, my Strength
My Portion, Deliverer
My Shelter, Strong Tower
My very present help in time of need

God reached down and took care of me in that moment. It was His way of saying, “It’s okay. I’ve been there, too, but I’m always here for you. I am your ‘VERY present help in time of need.’ I know you are in need right now and I will take care of you.” Pastor spoke very fitting words about family and love. He’s a very honest, realistic and hopeful pastor.

God’s light met my darkness during church and THAT is where the healing began. God was not ashamed of me. He did not hate me or think badly of me. He saw my pain and held it for a bit. He does not think I “shouldn’t feel that way” or try to get me to be happy and smile. He simply supported the load so I could deal with a little at a time.

When I got home, my thoughts were clearer. I remembered some of the tools I’ve learned for times when I get lost in the darkness. I started booking my schedule with activities and friends. (I usually forget I have friends so I was surprised to even realize I have more than one or two.) I made three lists to help me on a cognitive level: 1. Things I’ve done well today 2. Things I enjoyed today 3. Things I’m grateful for.

About that time, my therapist called. I had done much of the work already but took a few minutes to check in and see if there was anything else that would help. She was as confused as I but probably for a different reason. I was amazed at what God had done for me in such a short time and she was wondering why I needed to talk to her. My therapist helped me gained understanding and make the promise to go to my mom’s house if I started feeling as bad as I had that morning. Having a plan is always helpful for me. The conversation was short and I think (hope) we were both more secure in my safety when we hung up.

That is where the healing BEGAN but the Monster still lurks in seas of darkness for me. I am safe and I am determined to bring the darkness to light.

The motivation to write this came from a song called Healing Begins on a CD called The Light Meets The Dark by Tenth Avenue North.

See the website and listen to the song at:
http://www.tenthavenuenorth.com/

A bit better

I'm starting to feel a bit better. I've worked quite a bit today. I've eaten fairly normal and haven't had any suicidal thoughts today.

Last night I went to church. I worshipped God, prayed and listened to my pastor. It helped. I LOVE my church worship team! I also talked to my therapist on the phone.

It was a bit awkward but I'm glad I called her. I think she had a long day (8 hours of sessions straight would do that to me too) before she got to call me. I'm thankful she called me though and didn't send the cops to baker act me. When half an hour had passed from the time I thought she would call I started to worry that she had given up on me and just sent someone to take me to a crisis stabilization unit. I really don't belong there! I can tell she didn't know what to tell me or maybe what I was asking. I think I needed a goal, plan, accountability. All I know is that yesterday at 8am I was ready to swallow a bottle of Advil and the only thing I knew to do was call my therapist. I don't think she likes to communicate outside of session at all. Not like other therapists, I've had. That's probably good.

By the time I talked to my therapist, I had gone to church and made a couple other good decisions. I probably could have gone without talking to her but I'm not sure I would have got where I did without the motivation of knowing I would have to talk to her. Make sense???? I went into "emergency" depression and needed to give myself the NEED to pick myself up from it. If my therapist had heard me where I was that morning, I would have been committed. Someone inside won't let that happen. I worked out a few plans with friends and got some extra support. I even fell back on a couple tools from my "old depression days." I made some positive lists and packed my schedule to stay busy.

Sex, Drugs and Rock n Roll

I started thinking about the possibility of getting back on psych meds again. They've never worked for me though. I've been on at least 50 different medications. It's not worth the money.

I went out drinking last night and made an ass out of myself. AGAIN! I really shouldn't drink! Not to mention that the chemical depressant probably wasn't good for my ever plummeting mood.

I actually went out to try and have FUN. My therapist has still left me with the task of trying to have fun. How could that be so hard? I just don't find anything fun. I always go overboard. Instead of an hour of TV, which would be fun, I watch 6 hours then feel guilty. Instead of dinner with friends I ended up waiting for my sister in the lobby of a hotel an hour away after leaving the "swingers" party upstairs then hanging my head out of my sister's car window throwing up. How did I end up there? I only had TWO drinks! I don't even want to have sex with a boyfriend ... and I was basically in the middle of an orgy. I turn into someone else when I drink. I guess it's just a lowered inhibition level but I want to have sex with people when I'm drunk. I don't like anything to do with sex though. I have a REAL problem with sex. Why would I put myself in those situations when drinking?

I haven't been able to do anything today. Once again I got nothing done this weekend. I have 3 day weekends and still haven't even started painting the house I moved into 9 months ago. I am a lazy, selfish, fat, sick, useless waste of air.

Now I have to go to bed so I can continue in my hampster wheel of pain. I think I'm destined to live in depression. It all seems so hopeless.

Character is destiny ... under the gun everyone reverts to who they are. We may hunger to map out a new course but for most of us the lines have been drawn since we were 5.

- Mary Shepard from In Plain Sight

The Dreamer

A part of mine, I call Dreamer has asked me to shart this. I wrote it a couple months ago, March 26, 2010.

The Dreamer

I feel like I'm floating. I'm warm and cozy and happy. I'm thinking but not stressed out. I'm hopeful. I am content, still, quiet and soft. I am safe. I am The Dreamer. I am ready to dream. Things are going to work out. Things are going to be great. No one can hurt me. I can do anything. We are going to have a perfect future. I love my house. It's beautiful and has so much personality. It's ready for it's make - over. I'm going to work less, sell Arbonne full time, have gorgeous children and a loving, perfect Husband. I'm going to be skinny, eat healthy and dance as much as I want. I'm going to love everything that I do. I'm going to have lots of friends and a handful of sister - friends. I will not be stressed. I will travel. I will meet people easily and be very social. I will never be rushed. I will pray, fast and love God fully. I will learn His word through regular personal and social bible studies. I surround myself with positive, beautiful, warm, inviting and friendly things. I have enough money to do anything I want. I don't want much. I am loved by pepole, myself and God. God is good; all the time. I have no pain. I am healthy and take care of myself. I am balanced, happy and healthy in mind, body and spirit. I am good to people. I help people. I love my job. I get to perform. People love me. Children want my autograph. I am humble. I am graceful. I am full of energy. I am beautiful and good. I am kind, gentle, interesting and creative. I paint, draw and scrapbook. I am taken care of. Everyone loves me.
___________________________________________________________________________________

I think the Dreamer wanted me to remember what we want in life. We've had a REALLY bad week. The therapist had a serious talk with us today about suicidality. I don't think I'm suicidal but I can understand her concern. I'm thankful for it. I've had some very low points recently and e-mails to her were approaching alarm. I haven't let the Dreamer out much. She stays hidden away because she's less useful, functionally. She's so important though. She's little. I'm not sure how old. Maybe 5 or 6. She hasn't been tainted by the harshness of this world. She's very pure. I like this part. Why do I hide it? I think it's out of protection for it and other parts.