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.

Fun

I've been tasked with having fun this weekend. It sounds simple and easy enough. Who knew fun was so subjective!

I was in my therapist's office yesterday, who gave me the "assignment," and I had trouble with it even before I left the office. Is TV fun? Is taking down wallpaper fun? Is finshing paperwork that's been looming over me fun? Is seeing a ballet fun?



I don't even know what FUN is anymore? How can that be? Everything has been distorted. It's just like food. One cookie is okay: tastes good, provides some enjoyment, etc. Twenty cookies bring on emotional and physical pain. This would lead me to believe balance is key. Balance is NO EASY feat. I kept asking my therapist what could be considered fun? I used TV as the example. I often feel like TV is a waste but I spend so much time in front of it. TV provides a much needed break at times, as well as some entertainment but when I've been sitting there for hours I feel physical and emotional pain.

I ended up going to the ballet last night. I enjoyed it but for me it's like an alcoholic taking the first drink. One is never enough. I always want more. I miss dancing more than any other loss in my life. Watching ballet leads me to want to dance again and then I can never get enough. But it IS fun.

Today I slept VERY late, mostly because I was up surfing the web about dancing. I decided to watch "a little" TV before getting my day started. That was almost 6 hours ago and now I've given up. I have soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much I need to do. It's another wasted weekend. Mom wants me to come over for dinner but I don't feel like I deserve it. I feel fat, useless, unworthy, tired, gross.

The need to not feel like this drives me to constantly go, go, go. Then I get overly tired and back to this spot or I give up entirely because I can't seem to make any difference anyway.

I'm in a very sad place right now. I am having immense trouble with my parts, relationships, ED. I don't want to promote this pain to anyone reading. The goal of this blog and in my life is recovery, health, balance. I'm struggling with all that myself right now though.