Breakdowns lead to Breakthroughs

This week, I anticipate some struggling. Because I have such a difficult time connecting to my emotions, sometimes the smallest trigger can send me into a massive breakdown. The wall my eating disorder helped build comes down just enough for me to just lose any control or compartmentalizing I have done. It becomes this chaos in my mind and body.

When I have a breakdown, I tend to just cry hysterically.  Even if I get to a peaceful state of mind, I just keep crying. I think it's because I so rarely cry. Once I start, everything I have been holding in just comes out. Then, my mind begins racing with thoughts of "This isn't okay." "Pull yourself together." "I'm really uncomfortable." "Shut it off." I become very anxious.  My chest and stomach get tight, and I can get short of breath.  It almost feels like I am dying in some small way. It's not a panic attack,  but it feels similar. So, I slow it down and shut it off. It's not resolution.  It's my off switch.

My therapists have all pointed out to me that they can see when I shut off. I've been told that my body physically changes. Even if I start to tear up and shit it off,  it's a noticeable physical change.  Then, I present as okay and just tuck everything away to the back of my mind as far away from my heart as possible. It gets grueling doing that everyday though. So, what am I supposed to do?

Lately, I have been trying to embrace emotions,  but it's not gonna happen overnight. I also so rarely deal with emotions that my automatic off switch gets to them so quickly that I don't even notice I am getting emotional sometimes. I can feel that something is off in me afterwards,  but it's hard to rectify at that point. Tonight,  I had a breakdown. Just a lot of small things throughout today built up,  and I just lost it. I tried to sit with my feelings. I was giving myself some positive self-talk, telling myself that it was okay to be upset and frustrated.  That lasted about a minute before I shut it off.  It sends my ED mind into overdrive.

ED goes crazy when I am upset. It sends every negative message to add to my already terrible core beliefs about myself.  It's that reinforcing voice in my head that makes it worse. To make it stop, I have to shut off my emotions to make my head stop racing. But then once I do that, the shame sets in. I just keep hearing that I'm not normal because I can't have emotions or deal with them in any way. I know everyone has different struggles with emotions,  but it makes me feel isolated. I shut down and can't open up emotionally to others. It's really hard. Honestly, my head feels like a never ending battle most days. I am so thankful for my Trazodone to help me sleep and to have a break. I am thankful for this blog too as an outlet for my crazy and the support I receive from the people who read it.

You always hear that breakdowns lead to breakthroughs. So, what's my breakthrough tonight? Even though I only had a minute of feelings,  I was able to sit with it. That minute of being uncomfortable showed me that maybe my brain does have some fight for recovery left in it. Maybe next time I get upset, I won't shut it off for 5 minutes. Who knows? I won't know til I try it. But that's how recovery goes. Listening to our rational minds, using our coping skills, and taking things one day, hour, minute, second at a time

Falling for Triggers

ED has a sneaky way of coming up when you least want it to. Triggers surround us every day in our lives. Even people without mental health problems face them. The slightest things set off memories, feelings, behaviors, etc. For me, triggers have been all over the place this week, and I've done kind of okay at managing them. It's just led to extreme anxiety, body checking, and a lot of ED thoughts.

My biggest trigger this week has been being sick. For the record, there are gross details following. So, if you don't like bodily functions, skip over this paragraph. TMI:
 Over the weekend, I could tell I had a UTI, but kind of let it go. I took some cranberry tablets, and drank vodka/cranberries at the bar. Nothing seemed to help. Then, it came to a head on Monday night. I was at cooking class and was in so much pain that I could barely sit, let alone stand. I typically can't stand through cooking class with my heart problems anyways, but this was worse. Then, I went to the bathroom and saw blood in my urine. I spoke with the dietician and off to the emergency room I went. After 2 hours of waiting, I had a 5 minute conversation with a doctor who prescribed me antibiotics and sent me on my merry way. I took off from work on Tuesday to rest, but I could feel increasing pain in my back. By Wednesday, it was unbearable. I worked in the morning, but left early to go see my doctor. 2 hours later, I was in a CT machine getting a scan to see if my kidneys were infected. The next day, I got a call saying they were clear and was given a script for hydrophone to help the pain. About 7 hours later, I was in urgent care again, because I was throwing up and passed out. The doctor did some tests and suggested that my UTI had cleared, but there was probably something on my kidneys that might not have been strong or big enough for the CT machine to see. I went home, threw up some more, and then went to bed. I took off Friday to rest. Today, the pain finally started to go away. Now, I'm just exhausted.

So with all of that crap happening to my body and the pile of medications I have been taking this week, eating hasn't been my favorite thing to do. It's been really hard on my stomach and hard to eat to make up calories after I've thrown up unintentionally. It's a difficult battle. My ED voice says I can just skip all of those, and it'll be fine. Skipping a few meals this week won't hurt. It'll actually help me look thinner for my brother's wedding next week. All the crazy talk.

Trigger two actually has been my brother's wedding. It's knowing that it is going to be a heavily photographed event. These pictures are going to be ones that last forever. I am just so terrified of looking fat in them that I want to restrict to make sure I look the best that I can. Rationally, that's insane, because my dress is wonderful and flowy. It'll hide my least favorite area of my body, so I can rationalize that it'll be okay. It's also just a lot of people with a lot of eyes on me. This will be the first major event since I went through treatment. I mean, I've seen my family, but I am also seeing a lot of people that I haven't seen since before I went to treatment. So, it just makes me nervous. I just keep telling myself that I need to focus on TJ and not myself that day. Maybe that'll help.

Trigger three has been my isolation due to being sick. I have spent a lot of time in my apartment by myself this week. I consider myself an extroverted person. I thrive on being social and communicating with people face to face. When I'm alone, I tend not to eat, because 1) my hunger cues really come and go. They haven't been consistent in a long time. 2) No one to hold me accountable. 3) I have never really been a person who eats when they're bored. Isolation and people not reaching out to me leads me to feeling unworthy or useless, which isn't even close to true. My feelings just get the best of me sometimes.

So, how do I cope? I wrote the massive letter to ED blog yesterday, which was really had an impact on me. I had done similar exercises in groups during my first round of treatment, but always had a time constraint on it. I also don't think I was at the place to be able to do it back then. I would love to expand it for me personally with more details about some of those situations, because I think I need to. It was my way of starting to connect to that story and begin to somewhat feel everything in my life. I'm also writing this blog today as accountability. In addition to blogging, I've been watching a lot of horrible reality television. I learned that Undercover Boss makes me cry like a baby, and Intervention makes me miss my life of being a therapist. I've thought about signing up for dance classes and challenging what might be the most triggering thing for me. That'll probably be a blog in itself one day. I've listened to a lot of music, and taken a lot of showers.

This week has proved to me that I am probably stronger than I give myself credit for. I have strongly considered myself a survivalist for a lot of the crap I've been through, but I have also turned to really negative coping skills in the past. I didn't turn to any of those this week. I thought about having a drink to unwind, but I know that drinking on antibiotics and pain pills is an overdose waiting to happen. So, I didn't. Honestly, I haven't had a drink in over a week, which hasn't happened since the first time I was in treatment. I also don't have the craving to drink anymore. I haven't done cocaine in a while. I didn't try to exercise through the pain while not eating. I even took off work which, if you know me, never happens. I'm a workaholic through and through. I engaged in appropriate self-care. Surprising, I know. I surprised myself with it too. Maybe I am capable of all of this without turning to ED.

Triggers will come up at the most inopportune moments for all the wrong reasons. But if we can learn to engage in appropriate self-care and coping skills, they become easier to manage. Those skills will become a necessary ally in the battle against ED in the fight for recovery. Even though I did engage in some behaviors this week, I know it will be okay. I may fall, but I can always get back up and make the choice for recovery.

A Letter to ED

ED,

When I first met you 10 years ago, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I knew you would be trouble. You came into my life when I felt like things were getting out of control. After years of being anxious, you came into my life to calm me down from the life changes that were happening around me. For the first time in my life, I found the one thing that made me feel safe and protected. The first meal I skipped, I knew I was hooked. Your voice in my head encouraged me to keep going with empty promises that I thought would be fulfilled. The promises of love, adoration, and fulfillment had me completely indentured to you, and I was willing to follow you everywhere. Even in the times when I left you behind, you would always find your way back in. To me, you were the perfect relationship: something that would never leave me, always support me, and give me the self-love that I desperately needed. Little did I know how much you would destroy my life.

You came into my life at a very opportune time. After a year of being horrifically bullied, I had just finished a year at a brand new school where I found friends that supported me, classes that challenged me, and a new love: theater. I was finally beginning to work on my identity in high school. It was time to become more independent and figure out truly what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be. Then, life happened, as it always does. My father was leaving again for a year long tour in Kuwait. It always felt like abandonment to me, even though it was just the lifestyle of being a military brat. Not only did I fall into my typical pattern of shutting down, but I was lost. I was stuffing everything so deep inside of me that it became invisible. I was able to continue being with friends, doing theater, and doing well in school, but all that stuffing caught up to me and I felt empty. Then, I had a health class that talked about eating disorders. Anorexia stuck out to me as this beautiful concept. I was intrigued. I wanted to learn more about it, and maybe even try it. That curiosity led to the internet where I saw "thinspiration" and saw that maybe I could be one of those girls that were being supported and praised just by being thin. That didn't seem so hard to me, especially because I was already on the thin side. It was all so tempting, and I fell head over heels for you.

That year, I lost enough weight to feel fantastic about myself. I was getting responses from friends and family about how great I looked, because I was thin, but in shape. I felt in control of my life for the first time in years. I was able to decide how I wanted my body to look and the ways I would do that, which was skipping meals and counting calories. On the outside, I showed everyone how great I was doing, but on the inside, a battle was raging on. That year, I was cutting, exercising, and spending hours listening to you tell me that I still wasn't enough and that I wouldn't be until I lost more weight. On top of that, my constant need for change was starting to creep in. I was maintaining in a sick twisted world, because I had all of these unfulfilled needs. It didn't matter though, because I was thin. You were my best friend, and there was nothing else that mattered. Finally, my life became more in control. My father returned from Kuwait. We were moving to the DC area, and I was able to let you go. I had to to focus on my friends and making the most of my time before another move, because I had learned that once you say goodbye, things change. Relationships will end. Your best friends then won't be your best friends later, because you'll lose touch. So, I had to focus on my friends, because I felt that they wouldn't be there later. I would have a new life in Maryland, and I would leave it all, including you, ED, behind. Little did I know that I had been ingrained with triggers, and you would show up when I would least expect you.

In March 2006, you were there for me when I experienced my first major loss. After weeks of communication and crazy talk, Mark was gone. Suicide is a tricky concept, especially when you're 14. Even trickier when someone would say you contributed to the reasons for it. Again, at 14, I had no capability of processing what was happening. Then, you were there, just when I needed you again. You came in and comforted me in a way that no one else could. My friends were so supportive, but I had no idea how to verbalize what was going on. Also, my life was so busy that I stuffed it, put on a brave face, and kept going. ED, you were there to help me cope with this loss, and it helped me survive in order to keep doing well. 

After a few months of being with you again, we had a new struggle to face: health problems. Starting in 8th grade, I had always been told that I had asthma, but inhalers never seemed to work. This came to head my junior year when I would begin hyperventilating during classes with no warning. After seeing multiple doctors, spending hours in the emergency room, and just freaking everyone out, I needed some answers. You took a seat on the back burner, so I could have enough energy to see everyone and get some help. Luckily, one doctor randomly knew about Vocal Chord Dysfunction, and I was able to regain control. With that diagnosis, I felt like I was able to better handle my health issues, and didn't need you to help me control my life. I was capable of doing it again. So, we parted ways again... for now.

Recovery is a beautiful thing. I spent a year and a half living this beautiful life with my friends in Maryland. Then, we moved back to Wisconsin, and for the first time in my life, I returned to those best friends that I had desperately missed. For the first time, those attachments weren't broken. I spent my senior year with my closest friends and began looking at new opportunities to have this great life in college. For the first time, I felt confident without you. I was in control of my destiny, and nothing was going to stop me... Or so I thought.

My dream of going to college was slightly derailed for a variety of reasons. All of a sudden, I found myself applying to a local 2 year college to work on credits rather than moving across the country to start fresh. On top of that, my life at home was spiraling out of control quickly. My grandmother had been diagnosed with a brain tumor. My dad became this completely different person: one I didn't recognize, let alone had respect for. Then, October came and so did you.

October 2008 is potentially the worst month of my entire life. My father left to live with his parents leaving behind a grieving family trying to grapple with our first grandparent with cancer. My grandmother deteriorated quickly. Everything was falling apart. I did what I always do. I took 17 credits, worked at McDonalds and the VFW, and was involved in 2 musicals. Stuff it and keep going. It all came to a head the last week of the month. My grandmother died. This lead to actions and words by my father that made me lose all respect for him, and the beginning of the end of our relationship. When you grow up a daddy's girl, that's an impossible concept to even try and comprehend. Also, I started to take care of everyone else, but not myself. I worked as hard as I could to make sure that everyone else was handling these losses, and I put on my brave face and kept going. There you were to support me while I was supporting everyone else. You always knew exactly when I needed you to help me out. I relapsed and quickly got out of control.

Relapse is difficult, because not only do you fall back into these behaviors, but there's a significant amount of guilt and shame that come with it. I was also so ashamed of running back to you, because I knew on some rational level what I was doing to myself, but you felt safe. This relapse was particularly easy though, because no one noticed. It was me and you. You took care of me while I was taking care of everyone else. It was a beautiful partnership. This one lasted for a long time before we broke up again.

I met someone who finally threatened your relationship with me. I fell head over heels for someone else, but you were always there. You would tell me that I wasn't good enough for him... that he would never love me, because he was still in love with someone else... that the only way I would be good enough was to be thin. I did the dance between you two for as long as I could. You were there for me when he didn't know how to be. You helped me through losing Peter and Logan. You always did when I lost people. But, he was there for me in dealing with my father and trying to figure out what kind of relationship we could have, if any. He began to support me the way you always did. The first year was a constant battle in my head between who I should listen to. In the end, you won, but not for long.

My study abroad in Spain could not have come at a more opportune time. After taking a break from my romantic relationship, I needed some time to figure me out. I ran away to Madrid to see if I could have a life without him and without you. The 4 weeks I spent in Spain were the foundation to my identity. For the first time, I was in control of what I was doing, and it was an amazing feeling. After spending 6 years at that time with you always there in some capacity, I was able to let you go. I returned from Spain happy and healthy. I went back to my romantic relationship and was prepared to take on anything without you. This was short lived unfortunately.

Fall 2010 was another difficult time. I was randomly passing out, feeling like my heart was beating out of my chest when I would stand up, and just constantly miserable. It's really difficult to be in and out of doctor's offices and the Emergency room when the person who has promised to love and support you refuses to be there. Luckily, I didn't need him, because I had you. You became that love and assistance that I needed while sitting in emergency rooms by myself. You were there for me when I was diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome and told that I would probably be on medication for the rest of my life. Without you and my mom, I probably never would have gone to those appointments. You only went to take advantage of my POTS, but you were still there. Then, as my relationship was falling apart and choices were made that drove us even further, you became stronger and stronger. My friends and family were so supportive, but it just felt like you were the only one who understood. I could hear all around me that I needed help, but I just couldn't seem to get away from you. My relationship ended, but you were still there. You faded a bit when I was able to spend time with my friends and become back in touch with my life outside of my relationship. Then, I had a life of fresh starts, and away you went.

Moving to Milwaukee in Fall 2011 was probably one of the best decisions I have ever made. I was originally going to commute for graduate school, but decided that I needed a new place to figure out what my life would look like since it would be nothing like I had planned. I was beginning a new life in a new school, meeting new people, and living in a new city where no one knew my dirty laundry. It was exhilarating. I didn't need you, because I was in control of my choices. Even when I lost 2 amazing people in my life a day apart, I was okay. One of those losses led me to someone who understood my relationship with you. Finally, I had someone who understood, and I didn't need you. I lived another beautiful year and a half in recovery. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than being in a full blown relapse. I had moments of weakness where I would dabble in behaviors and miss our relationship, but I knew that I needed a new life. I was doing well without you, and I wanted to stay that way. It did until I graduated with my Master's.

ED, you have always served as a wall between whatever identity I have and the things I have never dealt with. You have always protected me from feeling the things I never wanted to feel. You helped me stuff all of those traumatic events deep down inside of me. You made sure that, if I got overwhelmed by emotions, I wouldn't have to deal with them. We would skip a meal, and I would be fine. You did your job, and I was able to manage my life better... or so I thought.

After getting my Master's, I wasn't strong enough to hold back all of these feelings and memories from flooding me every day, especially when working as a therapist. Every day, I was speaking to people with some similar experiences to my own. It became draining to just be me and work with clients. There you were. Our relationship began again, but it wasn't unnoticed this time. Working with other clinicians, your presence was easily seen by my supervisor, who really pushed me to go to therapy. I went for one session, but I never went back. I was okay with that though. So were you. I had pseudosessions with my supervisor, which helped me be okay for a while, but you were still there. I entered a romantic relationship that challenged, but encouraged you as well. This built and built until one day, the switch went on. I knew I couldn't stay with you, but I knew I needed help to get out of it. With the help of my family, I got on a train, left everything behind in Milwaukee, and decided to look for a new life without you.

The first 2 weeks of treatment, I was still holding onto you. I would openly tell people that I would be there for a short period of time to go back to work in Milwaukee. In other words, I realized I had made a mistake and wanted to stay with you. Slowly but surely, rational me started kicking into gear, and I knew that I couldn't continue this relationship or I would lose my life. After experiencing so many losses, I couldn't put others through that. It also didn't seem fair to my friends who lost their lives too young. Here I was actively destroying my own life by choice. In the memory of my friends, that's just not fair. After 12 weeks in treatment, I was feeling okay with letting you go, but was still battling with depression. I felt like I had ruined my life by not being with you. It was my hardest break-up of all, but I have a new life in recovery.

Recovery is never perfect though. I ended up running back to you when I felt out of control, but I recognized it and got back into treatment. I always go back when I don't feel like I can handle things. But the truth is, I absolutely can. I don't need you to make me feel worthy of love, because I have friends and family who love me. I don't need you to help gain control, because I am capable of making my own choices and can handle when the unexpected happens. I don't need your voice in the back of my head telling me how awful I am, because there's no evidence of that. I just don't need you. So goodbye, ED. I will not miss you. This life in recovery isn't easy, but it's worth it.

Good riddance,
Heidi

Selfish vs Selfless

Today in group at treatment, someone talked about being selfish versus being selfless. These two words hold significant weight in the way that we think, feel, behave, etc towards ourselves and others. Selfish is when we are totally focused on our own needs, and selfless is complete focus on the needs of others. In an ideal world, everyone should have a balance of both. We need to focus on our own needs, but also look at the needs of others in order to maintain relationships. My eating disorder completely clouds this.

When I am in a full blown relapse, I tend to be very selfless in a selfish way. How is that even possible? I become very selfless in order to escape the battle in my head. Basically, I am using my selflessness as a way to be selfish. I do it to fulfill my needs, because I cannot handle what is going on in my life. So, I turn to others as a way to be selfish. It doesn't mean that I do not care about others and do not genuinely want what's best for them; however, I do tend to become enveloped in other people's lives and focused on them 100%. Most of my relationships have started in the midst of relapses, because I wanted to give someone else all of the attention in order to not have to focus on myself. This is something I have had to be mindful of in this process. I have found myself running to online dating as a way to take the focus off of myself. So, I have to monitor myself when meeting new people. As the great movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind said, "Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?" Change woman to man and that's me. 

Using others to help me cope with my issues is potentially one of the most selfish things a person can do. It leads to an extreme amount of guilt and difficulties in my relationships, because I don't realize how much I am hurting others by using them for my coping. It also tends to push people away, because I become dependent on them to the point of unbearable. I become too much and people walk out. If they don't walk, I push them away by becoming clingy and then shutting down when a response is given. None of my needs can ever be fulfilled by others, even though I wish they could be. I become selfish, because even though I am attempting to fulfill their needs by doing anything I can, I am not taking care of my own needs, which causes everything to fall apart. So, how do I break this cycle?

In a lot of ways, I have to become selfish for the right reasons. I need to focus on my own personal needs and self-care in order to become a person capable of being selfless with no expectations in return. This involves a great deal of therapy and commitment to incorporating self-care. I have to let myself take breaks and process things. I have to take on only what I can handle and step away from things I cannot. I must take better care of myself and that includes following my meal plan. So, what's my biggest first step that I need to take?

I asked my new therapist to begin going through my timeline and actually talking about it in great detail. I did this the first time I was in treatment in 2 ways. The first was with my individual therapist, but we only hit the highlights and overlooked a lot of the smaller issues, which add up. The second was in a group; however, I have a really difficult time allowing myself to feel the events that have happened in my life. It feels like I am telling someone else's life like I am giving a biography report in school. I try not to connect on it, because my life is exhausting with the amount of trauma I have experienced. To feel all that trauma again is awful. That's the purpose of my eating disorder: to serve as a wall between me and all that crap. Without my eating disorder, all of that comes back and becomes so overwhelming that I shut down and relapse. Unfortunately, it's not enough to have insight as to what happens. Something has to be done about it.

It's time to move forward. It's time to allow myself to experience all the feelings I stuffed down deep inside, because they were too much to bear. It's time to accept that these feelings are okay. They are not bad, just scary. It's time to take away the blame of the things I don't deserve to blame myself for. It's time to heal. It's time to tear down the wall of my eating disorder and create a new whole self that can process the pass and emotionally heal.

Gratitude

When I was working as a therapist, one of my favorite/most powerful groups with my recovering addicts was a discussion and activity on gratitude. America has such a work yourself to death type attitude, which is something I have adopted as well, with serious costs. So, sometimes we need to take a step back to look at the little things we miss when being so busy. It helps us to gain insight that things might feel crazy and out of control, but we really do have good things in our lives to be grateful for.

In this group, we would talk about gratitude: what it is and what it means to us. Clients would often say that these things got lost in focusing on their recovery, especially because the things they were grateful for would often be the things that they were most terrified to lose if they relapsed. It led to the realization that we sometimes are so anxious about losing these things that it leads to us pushing them away. So, we can take a step back to say what we're grateful for in order to appreciate what is always there through our struggles. I would have clients take a brown paper lunch bag and 10 slips of paper to list the things they were grateful for. We would then go around one by one to share some of the things we listed. So, in dealing with my anxiety today, I am listing my 10 things:

1) My family. They drive me completely and totally batshit crazy sometimes, but honestly, I would never have gone to treatment without their support. They allowed me to pick up and leave everything to come to St Louis from Milwaukee. They helped cover my rent. They communicated with my job to figure out my time off. They actively participated in family days to learn more about how to help me. I am grateful that we are a close unit, which wasn't that way for the majority of my life, and how they look out for me regardless of circumstances or how much I screw up.

2) My friends. The people who keep me most sane. I am very lucky to have developed the friend group I have in my adult life. It is made up of so many unique crazies, but I wouldn't have made it through most of my trauma without them. Honestly, their love and support has kept me around for as long as I have. In my darkest nights, I have talked with friends who have listened to me cry, freak out, and process what has happened. They have also given me wonderful memories, laughter, and happiness. I consider my friends my second family, and I wouldn't be able to get through all this without them.

3) Therapy. I am grateful for the opportunity to be on the other side of the counselor/client relationship. That hour of time every week to help me actually say the things I have stuffed for so many years has been life changing. I try so hard to not feel emotions that it is comforting to have a safe outlet where I can share them when I am ready. Some days, I really hate it. I hate being pushed to actually share my feelings, because it makes me very uncomfortable to experience such strong emotions; however, I know in the long run it's helpful.

4) Work. I am lucky to have wonderful coworkers and a job that allows me to leave every day to go to treatment. It has also given me a place to live independently and be on my own again.

5) Traveling. In moving so many times, I am lucky enough to know people all over the world. So, I can travel to go see these people or just to get some time on my own. My study abroad experience was one of the most life changing opportunities for me. I picked up and left Wisconsin by myself to spend 4 weeks in Madrid where I knew no one. Traveling either with friends or by myself allows me to take risks and help build my identity.

6) Music. One of my primary coping skills. It is such a powerful thing that can be used for coping, memories, parties, and so much more. I am grateful for something so simple that I can just put on and take a mental break from the world.

7) The past. While I really hate reminders of the past, especially at shitty moments, it has truly shaped me into the person I am today. I have learned that while I can't change it, I can take those life lessons and adapt them to current day situations. History repeats itself, and if we don't learn from it, nothing changes.

8) Love. I truly wish that everyone can experience love in their lifetime, because there are so many different types of it. The love we have for friends, family, relationships, life, etc. changes a person. One of the core beliefs of my eating disorder is that I am unloveable. One of my best challenges of this is looking at the outpouring of love I received through my journey in treatment and continue in my daily battles. Even though I might not be "in love" now, the opportunities are there in due time, and I am optimistic for what may come.

9) Education. My education is very important to me. I worked very hard to get my Bachelor's in 3 years and at 20 and even harder to get my Master's at 22. While I am not really using my degrees at my current job, it is something that no one will ever be able to take away from me. I earned those degrees and can celebrate that accomplishment. It may just be a sheet of paper, but it symbolizes a part of my identity that I hold very close to me.

10) Life. At 23, I have come close to successfully taking my own life multiple times, even as recently as this year. While life has not been the easiest, I am grateful to have one, especially when thinking of the friends I have lost theirs too soon. I am grateful to have the opportunities to learn from my mistakes and figure out this life one day at a time. Losing it to my eating disorder can't be an option anymore. I think I am learning that being thin doesn't mean life is better. If anything, my eating disorder makes my life worse, because I take all these things for granted.

Today I chose to be grateful and remember that life with my eating disorder makes these things that much harder. I am grateful to be on this journey in recovery, even though it isn't perfect. It's life.

Flashbacks of the Past

To me, one of the most difficult things I have been coping with is memories of the past. It seems like triggers for flashbacks have been everywhere lately. Reminders of the past keep coming up everywhere and unexpectedly. I just feel like crying all day, so it's been increasingly difficult to just sit and work when my mind is in 20 different places. So how do we deal?

My biggest issue this week has stemmed from my most serious relationship,  which ended over 3 years ago now. We got engaged really quickly when we were really young, but it just seemed completely right. We grew together over the years and dealt with some really heavy shit together. Our relationship ended up deteriorating my senior year of college after we suffered a pretty major loss together.  Things were never the same after that. Enough time has passed now that I can look back and know that that wasn't the right relationship for me. I don't miss him or our relationship,  which is why today has been very difficult. 

He has a new son, who was born yesterday. Of the details I do know, I understand that it was with a very different relationship than the one we had, but he is the father that he never got to be with me. It's incredibly strange for me to feel so overwhelmed by this,  because I have been over and done with our relationship for a long time now; however,  it just brings back a lot of memories to what happened with us.

It brings me back to the talks of us having a family together, of getting married, and having that life together that we dreamed of. It reminds me of what we lost and the grief that we experienced in vastly different ways, which ultimately drove us apart. It's those life transitions that you can't avoid but that happen for the right reasons. It's just hard to flashback to those moments when you thought you had that and were set for life. You believe that nothing could ever go wrong, and you can take on the world because that person will always be on your side. And then you lose it...

I honestly and truly believe that things happen the way they are supposed to. I know in my heart that the things that happened in that relationship helped me to grow into a stronger person and cope with things better today. It's just overwhelming when you are sitting at your desk and your mind wanders back 4 years to these moments. They feel so real and powerful.

Today, I am grateful for the ability to look upon my past and current self with kindness. I am allowing myself to feel and mourn the loss of things that could have been and never will be. I am trying to focus on the current and not the past. If it was meant to be, it would have happened. It didn't,  so it wasn't meant to happen with those people or at that time. I move forward with this knowledge and try to take things one day at a time.

Eating Disorder: 1; Heidi: 0

My eating disorder thoughts are kicking my ass this week. I just feel very overwhelmed with racing thoughts and negative self-talk. It's been causing me to over analyze meals and monitor my intake/calorie count. My urges to undo have also been strong. I haven't, but it's been a little overwhelming. I hate how you can go from peace of mind over the weekend to complete chaos during the week.

I've had a lot of negative body image this week too. I just put on clothes and feel completely gross. I wonder why anyone would ever look at me or touch me. I feel very overweight and fat. I see nothing but fat in the mirror, and that makes it really hard to connect with anyone. It's a really hard concept for others to grasp, so it causes me to isolate. I am trying not to do so by going out with friends, but it's been hard to completely engage.

Last night, I put on clothes to go to karaoke with some coworkers, and I just felt awful about myself. The guy I was with said that I looked great, but those eating disorder thoughts kept getting louder and louder. I finally had to change into something different, because I couldn't handle the noise in my head. It's completely and totally exhausting. 

I hate these weeks where it feels like the only option is to completely succumb to those thoughts and restrict until I waste away on my own. It just feels shitty. All I want to do is go take a nap and not deal with anything.

One day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time...

Valuing Values

This weekend, I had the wonderful opportunity to go up to Milwaukee with my brother to visit our friends and go to a Brewers game, which is exactly what I needed for my mental health. The best part about these weekends is the time I get to spend with my bestie, Liz (BTW, she blogs about being a new mom here) She and I met under really shitty circumstances.  We met the night before the funeral of our good friend, Mike, who had died unexpectedly overnight of a heart condition that no one ever caught. So, we connected in a group of people at the bar and just clicked. We are basically the same person, except that we disagree on Beyonce.  I could not have survived in Milwaukee as long as I did without her. So, last night we were able to talk about our lives and all the crazy shit that's been happening. We ended up talking a lot about feeling unsatisfied right now for various reasons and looking at making major changes.  So, we talked about values.

In treatment,  I had a therapist that filled in on a week that my primary therapist was out of town. This therapist had me doing a lot of identity work. He and I went through my life's timeline. Then, he picked certain words and had me free associate to them on separate sheets of paper. Later, I had to go back and identify my emotions related to them.  The last word he handed me was my name. I drew a total blank. I literally had no idea how to respond to that. He told me that it was because I was struggling with figuring out who I am. He said that the best way to start is to identify my values.

Values are the ideals that we strive to live by. For me, some of my primary values are honesty, loyalty,  friends, family, and independence.  I believe that if we stick to the things we value, all the choices we make will fall into line and we can be comfortable. If something in our lives conflicts with our values, it leads to anxiety.  We know that these things aren't how we want to live life, so it creates this inner conflict. If one of our values isn't being fulfilled, it leads to depression,  because there is a void that needs to be filled. If we don't figure out what value is lacking, we might turn to negative behaviors to cope but don't exemplify the ideal we want to follow. It sounds easy, but like all things in life and therapy, easier said than done.

So what do we do? I have created a list of my personal values and keep it in my journal.  That way, if I start to feel anxious or depressed, I can look at those things and remind myself that if I have those, I am happy. It's not as easy figuring out if jobs, relationships,  or other things fall in line with those values (especially if society goes against them); however, if we set those ideals for ourselves and strive to follow them daily, our identity will fall in line behind it, even if we don't realize it. In the end, our values and journey to follow them will always be remembered more than making the right choice about changing jobs or moving to new places. But if we follow our guts and values, we just might make it.

Better

Better is such a loaded word for me. To me, it can mean so many different things. Even Webster's Dictionary has 5 (!) definitions for it! These 5 are- 1) Greater than half; 2) Improved in health or mental attitude; 3) More attractive, favorable, or commendable; 4) More advantageous or effective; and 5) Improved in accuracy or performance. Better has also impacted my eating disorder, perfectionism, and own self-worth. I look at those 5 definitions that Webster gives and can see myself and my eating disorder in all of them. So, how do we break it down?

The first definition, greater than half, applies to my entire life. I can honestly say that my mental health problems, trauma, and eating disorder have been present for the better half of my life. Better to me in this case is just sad. The better half of my life? It's insane to me that I have spent 15 years of my life hating and blaming myself for so many things that were beyond my control or ability to comprehend as a child. To me, this is the saddest better, because it puts into perspective just how much time my life has been consumed with eating disorder thoughts and behaviors.

The second definition, improved in health or mental attitude, is a great milestone for me. I can honestly say that, even though I am truly struggling in my journey in recovery, I am BETTER than I was in February when I entered treatment for the first time. This is my proudest better. It is proof to me that I can fight through anything and, even if that fight is still going on, I can improve upon myself to make positive changes in my life that will make the next chapter in my life extraordinary.

The third definition is what my eating disorder makes everything about: better. If I am "better," that means I am pretty, smart, loveable, and actually deserving of some worth. I am enough. This also boils down to comparisons though. This better to me is my Eating Disorder, but I am not defined it Everyone around me is. That girl walking down the street is better than me, because she is so thin and pretty. She's better. I did not graduate at the top of my class. Everyone above me is better than me. My boyfriend left me to focus on himself. His life is better without me than with me. I never allow myself to be deserving of that better. This is one of the biggest parts of my treatment right now, but one of the hardest. I often wonder if I will ever be better enough for me not to compare myself to anyone else. Somewhere in me, I hope that I will be, but I know that takes time and becoming more comfortable with myself. I need to create an identity surrounding this new transitioned person, which is way easier said that done.

The fourth definition is how I view my life with my eating disorder, better. To me, my eating disorder has always symbolized a place of safety, control, known, home, comfort, etc. I could attach most positive adjectives to how my Eating Disorder has helped me in my life. To me, anorexia has always been the better coping skill. It is the one thing that I know is guaranteed to make me feel better. I know that if I am having a bad day, all I need to do is skip 1 meal and I will automatically feel a little a better. To me, restricting is a better coping skill than anything else. How do you do better when you feel like you know the best solution for you? Time, patience, and an open mind are the best first steps, because something better and healthier is out there.

Finally, the last definition is a dichotomy for me: improved in accuracy or performance. My Eating Disorder mind sees this as "You can always do better" and applies it to school, work, life, appearance, any little thing. My healthy mind sees it as "You are doing better" and applying it to things like: my meal plan, less restricting, less exercising, fewer mistakes, etc. This goes back to my last blog about the War in My Mind. This constant battle of fighting ED mind vs Healthy Mind. By using challenges and evidence to focus on having more rational thoughts, I am better. I am no longer completely consumed by my eating disorder. I recognize it as a separate entity, which is a huge deal for me. It is leading to a better life for me.

Overall, I am learning to accept and incorporate all 5 versions of better. Although some of these definitions define a negative part of my life and a strong portion of my Eating Disorder, that positive side is there, even if I can't always see it. I just know that I deserve a life without hating myself everyday; a life where I don't analyze every bite of food or every calorie. I know that life is there, and it will be better.

War in My Mind

What do you do when you are fighting an internal battle all day every day? Every waking moment of my day, I am having all these different thoughts racing through my brain. ED thoughts. Healthy Mind thoughts. Work thoughts. Personal thoughts. More ED thoughts. Negative thoughts. Hopeless thoughts. Fight through it thoughts. Work thoughts. All of the thoughts. All of the anxiety. Every day is like a war in my mind. Those few moments of peace where my brain isn't racing are becoming harder to find. So, what do I do?

Every good soldier comes equipped with tools. As a therapist, I taught clients about their tool kits of coping skills that are all readily accessible. The only problem with this is that you can't always be doing coping skills all day every day. There's some level of coping with sitting with the war, but we all have other responsibilities that can't always be shaken off to focus on a coping skill 100%.  Blogging has become one of my primary coping skills. It has become an outlet for me to put those thoughts out of my head, rather than letting them circle. It's also been really validating sharing my experiences with other people; however, I can't always drop what I am doing to write a blog. The battle continues.

Once I figure out what tool is best for me in that moment, I have to fight the hardest battle of all: challenging the thoughts in my head while using that skill to keep my anxiety at a somewhat manageable level. My biggest struggle is that many of my thoughts are irrational, which stem from irrational core beliefs. My own personal theoretical orientation is Rational Emotive Behavioral Therapy, which believes that mental health problems stem from irrational core beliefs, which impact our emotions and behaviors. It's full of fun phrases like "Should"ing over yourself (Telling yourself you "should" do something, even if it is damaging to you) and "Musts" ("I must be the best and win other's approval," "Others must treat me the way I want to be treated or they're terrible people," and "I must get what I want. I musn't get what I don't want. But if I don't get what I want, it's terrible.) All of these apply to me pretty well, especially the Shoulding. Most of these are pretty irrational. So, how do I challenge them?

Evidence is really important to challenging my irrational thoughts. I feel like I am doing a horrible job at work, and I am going to be fired, because I am doing such a bad job and can't keep up with it while at treatment. None of this is true. I'm definitely overwhelmed with trying to balance the demands of work and my recovery; however, evidence shows me that my thoughts are irrational. Proof: I got a raise this month. I get praise and validation from my coworkers. I have not missed a deadline on any assignments since returning to treatment. That evidence helps me challenge my irrational thought and become at peace with a rational one. This is a pretty exhausting process though.

The average person has about 40-50 thoughts per minute (Thanks Google). If every one of those thoughts I have is irrational, how much challenging do I have to do? An insane fucking amount. That's exhausting just thinking about it! It does get easier though. The more challenging I do, the easier it gets, especially for repeat thoughts. I have some of the same general thoughts everyday, which are not limited to: "If I eat that, I am going to get fat and be worthless." "That person in the mirror is fat and disgusting." "You're doing such a bad job, because you can't do this work fast enough." "You forgot to schedule these things for those kids, so you obviously suck at your job." "No one will ever love you, because you're gross and ugly." "You clearly can't take care of yourself, because you've let yourself go." "Don't feel happy. You don't deserve that." I could go on forever...

I think the most important thing is to continue fighting the war. There's that old saying that says something to the effect of "You might not win the battle, but you can still win the war." Each day is a new battle. We're never really sure what might hit us at any given moment; however, persistence in fighting each individual battle, even if we lose some, will help us win the war against our eating disorders and continue on a new journey in recovery.

Overcoming Challenges- Grocery Store Version.

Today was a really difficult day for me at treatment. It was my first time at cooking class, which takes place in a grocery store aka my personal hell.

I legitimately hate the grocery store. I would rather have surgery with no anesthetic than have to spend less than an hour at a grocery store. To me, it has always been one of the biggest enemies, because it represents the one thing that I struggle most with, food. Before coming to St Louis, my aunt would often do the majority of my major grocery shopping for me. Then, I was able to pick up the few perishable items that I needed at the Walgreens aka NOT a grocery store. If I did have to go to the grocery store, I would have an exact detailed list of what I needed and a game plan of the path I would take in the store. The longer I spend in the stores, the louder my ED voice gets. It's completely crippling to me. If I am there any more than an hour, ED is yelling at me about how everything in my basket (because carts represent being fat in my mind) is going to make me fat and unworthy. I could have lettuce, milk, and eggs in my basket, and my brain gets overwhelmed.

Cooking class is another difficult thing for me. It's not that I dislike cooking. Most of the time, I just don't like to waste the free time I have on cooking. I am exhausted by the end of the day, so I don't care to eat at all, let alone take an hour to make it. It's another challenge for me. This is definitely a challenge that my ED wins most of the time. If I do cook, it's microwaveable. So, the idea of going to treatment to cook a meal was brutal to me. I really debated calling in, but then I would have to deal with self-portioning. At least this way, I would have some control over what I would be eating.

So, let's combine my personal hell with an activity I dread. Best night ever, right? In reality, it wasn't that bad. I was very anxious the whole time, which made me feel like I was going to pass out. So, I was able to sit in a chair and just try to distract from my anxiety with creating something. I was in charge of the jalapeno poppers, a food that I definitely wouldn't eat ever, because I don't tend to stretch outside of my small, taste preference bubble; however, I decided to challenge myself to try some new foods tonight. So, I tried a small popper after they had cooked, and it was actually pretty good. Also, we were only responsible for a small portion of the grocery store list. So I stayed in one section, and it was okay. It was just challenging to be in a larger grocery store thinking about food and cooking. All of the challenges.

Today has been a challenging day. Facing two of my biggest fears, grocery stores and new foods, has left me pretty exhausted today. Honestly, I am really proud of myself though. I am trying to fight every day to beat this. I'm still having pretty bad body image, but bit by bit, I am hoping it will go away. One step and one challenge at a time...

Connecting to Support

I have had a very difficult time connecting with my support system lately, which is part of my relapse. I have been isolating quite a bit, because I just do not want to admit to others that I am struggling. My ED mind also doesn't want people to see how fat I am. I have been stuck in my brain fighting this battle day in and day out, which has prevented me from speaking to others. This isolation has only allowed my ED behaviors and thoughts to get worse. So how do you break the cycle?

I have been working hard to try and leave my comfort space more and more. My living situation is unique as I live in the same building where I work. My office is literally 10 doors away from my apartment. So, when I am working a lot, there are days I literally don't even leave this building. Going to treatment has helped alleviate this a little bit and allowed me to connect to others more; however, IOP is a weird situation, because everyone has different days on/off, which leads to little cohesion. So, I have typically just been in my office and my apartment, only interacting with coworkers minimally. I have been consciously trying to accept more invitations from friends and family to leave my building. Otherwise, I just lay in bed most of the day when not at work. Yesterday was a really powerful example of how much better connecting with support can make you feel.

I ended up going to my mom and stepdad's for the afternoon and dinner, because they have been pretty concerned about me. My brother and his fiance went as well, which is always helpful, because they serve as a buffer from triggering comments for me. It was nice to have the support through a meal, and even when my stomach felt like it was going to shred open, they were able to distract me from it. Also, my brother and I decided to take a spontaneous road trip to Milwaukee next weekend, so I cannot wait to reconnect with my bestie, favorite girl, and friends, even if it is only for a day.

I also skyped with my best friend of 10 years. She is one of the few people who was by my side while much of my trauma was happening. We hadn't talked in a bit, because life has been insane for both of us; however, every time we talk, it feels like no time has passed at all. She is one of my biggest support systems, and reconnecting with her reminds me why I came down to treatment in the first place; so that I would have the ability to be that happy person that I could be in between my traumas and relapses. That girl is still in there somewhere.

My day ended with a reunion of some ladies I was in treatment with. These ladies are some of the strongest, most wonderful people I know. They have been with me through it all, so it always feels comfortable with them. They're also not afraid to call me on my ED, which is super helpful, especially right now. Talking with them about having to go back and dealing with my ED was awesome, because they have been there. It's also nice to go back and laugh at all the crazy shit that happened at MP, because what fun is it to go crazy if you can't go back and laugh about it? We also decided to take a road trip to visit one of our favorite ladies at college in a few weeks, so I absolutely cannot wait for that.

It's important to connect to support, because it makes you feel less alone in the world. While your ED constantly tells you that you're not good/pretty/thin/lovable/smart/etc enough for anybody, your support system is there to tell you that you are. You're more than good/pretty/thin/lovable/smart/etc enough for them, and they are there for you unconditionally. So, when you feel alone, connect with your support, because they're the best rationale to fight that irrational ED.

Before, During, and After

I've been thinking a lot about the Before and After moments of my life. At 23, I have had some pretty intense turning points in my life, and the ways I chose to cope with those things have also impacted what follows. This lead to me looking at my Eating Disorder. After my first major episode at 13, I have had 4 serious relapses at 15, 17, 19, and 22. All of these came as a reaction to some of the most serious, traumatic moments in my life. So, what happened before?

Before my relapses, I genuinely felt like I was in a good place in my life. At 13, I had had some really difficult moments, but I had finally settled in to a new school, new friends, and became very active in musical theatre. I felt like I was genuinely settling into what could be comforting for me. At 15, again, I had just moved to a new school in Maryland and was finding this amazing group of friends, who truly supported me through everything and still do. At 17, I had just started college. I was ready for my new start to find out who I truly wanted to be and what difference I could make in the world. At 19, I was in my final semester of college, about to embark on a new life with my fiance and looking to graduate school to become a therapist. At 22, I felt like I was in a great relationship, working a wonderful job, and becoming content with the idea of settling in Milwaukee.

Before my relapses, I was believed that the world wasn't such an awful place. I believed, even though all these horrible things that continued to build in my life had happened, that the good things in my life would stick around and that in some inconceivable way, I would be loved.

Before my relapses, I let the weight of my past build up inside me. I let the blame of things were in no possible way my fault sit on my heart, crushing it with guilt day in and day out. I let the shame of my trauma and my reactions to it eat me alive. I let my own self-hatred for my actions cycle in my brain in every quiet moment. I sat in silence and allowed this to eat me alive. I found solace in myself as people around me let me

Then, the things I saw as unthinkable happened... My dad went to Kuwait... My friend killed himself... My dad walked out on my family the day my grandmother died... My fiance left me... I finished graduate school and my trauma came flooding back.

And then, I relapsed.

During my relapses, I would restrict as often as possible. I weighed food to make sure that every serving size was to the correct ounce. I would count to 500 each day and hate myself if I went even 1 calorie over. I body checked incessantly. I would stand in front of the mirror for hours a day. I would pinch and pull and suck my body in, praying that the things I hated about it would magically go away. I yelled at myself for being so fat, disgusting, unlovable, and undeserving of this life. I contemplated taking the bottle of pills to make my peace, to make things easier on my loved ones who saw me wasting away. I would drink with my boyfriend, Jack Daniels, until I felt no pain. I rarely slept because the nightmares and anxiety would be so bad. I would do cocaine until my nose bled, feeling like I was invincible, knowing that my heart racing would help me lose weight. I skipped my heart medicine to have my heart race, not caring if I passed out. I isolated, hoping to just waste away in peace. I fought a daily losing battle against myself to the voice in my head saying, "You are not meant for this world being as fat as you are."

Then, friends and family reached out to help. Opportunities to bring me out of myself arose. New cities, jobs, and friends invited me to step outside of my mind. Happiness came in in a variety of ways, some that I didn't even know were possible. Learning that I was not alone and accomplishing things to better myself helped me focus on the positive. At 22, I entered treatment for the first time to process the things I struggled through the previous 10 years. The light came on, and I could see a way out of the darkness I had been living in.

After my relapses, I still struggle with thoughts every day. That little voice in the back of my head telling me how fat, worthless, and unlovable I am never goes away, but it does get quieter eventually. I see my body as a part of me, not some separate entity that my mind just lives in. I gained weight to become a healthy size, which makes things easier and harder all at the same time.  I have to consciously make the decision to eat every day. I make the choice not to ignore my hunger cues. I talk about my emotions instead of stuffing them. I can say with some degree of certainty but not total absolution that I am not responsible for things that have happened in my past. I acknowledge that these things are not my fault. I am learning that my identity is an ever-changing thing, but I am figuring it out, because I recognize that I am not my eating disorder.

 On the left is December 2013 during my last major relapse and on the right is August 2014, 4 months after ending treatment.

My life has been largely colored by trauma and coped with by anorexia. Life is a constant series of befores, durings, and afters. Every moment we have is an after of another, but the before to the next big adventure. But by learning from our preparations for befores, our reactions for durings, and our solutions for afters, life in recovery just might be manageable.

How Being a Military Brat Influenced my Eating Disorder

One of the biggest pieces of my treatment earlier this year was identity work. I have a very difficult time focusing on myself, because I feel very lost and second guess a lot of the choices I have made to end up where I am today. I also have a very difficult time accepting things that make me stay in place for too long, but that's part of being a military brat.

My entire life, I have had very little consistency. Growing up as a military kid, you're constantly moving and adapting to new people, situations, and lives. As a kid, I moved every 2 to 3 years. I switched schools three times in elementary school, twice in middle school, and three times in high school. Granted, sometimes I did end up back at the same school, but it's still change. Even if I didn't have my trauma, that constant change has severely impacted me as an adult.

The military has a funny way of saying, "Hey, guess what? Time to move again." As a kid, when you are settling into a routine and need that consistency in order to thrive, that abrupt change causes a psychological mind fuck. You begin to rely on the only thing that is consistent, your family. That becomes tricky when you have a fucked up family too. Things were never great in my family, but we "maintained" as a unit until my freshman year of college. So, in reality, there was no real constant. So, with no constants and the ever looming threat of moving again, it always feels like you have no control over your life.

That lack of control has left this void that I tend to fill with temporary things: people, alcohol/drugs, eating disorder behaviors, etc. That void drives me crazy. It drives my depression and anxiety to a more severe level. It also was a strong basis for my eating disorder to begin. In some way, it felt like I had some power in controlling my own destiny with visible goals. I could see my control working in the smaller sizes of my clothes, the lower weight on the scale, the more bones I could see. That skinny controlled person became my identity. So what happens when you have to challenge that identity, because it's not healthy?

When I challenged the sole thing that defined my identity, I quickly found that I was left with nothing. Underneath everything, my eating disorder, which made me feel like a person, was covering up my complete lack of identity. I had no idea who I was, what I wanted, or where I belonged. It wasn't until working through my values with a therapist that I had some picture of who I could be. When looking at my military brat upbringing, it had a major impact on my identity. I value change, because you can learn from it. It taught me about resilience, the importance of true friends and family, and that I truly can face anything that life throws at me.

While being a military brat did have a major influence on the development of my Eating Disorder, it also gave me important life skills that are vital to continue on my journey to recovery. Skills that if I didn't have today, I would never have survived the majority of my life without. So, while I am still trying to figure out my true identity, I know that Military Brat will always be a strong part of it.

All of the Stomach Pain

I met with a dietician this morning for the first time since I previously left treatment. It's always an interesting experience to meet with them, because everyone has a different opinion on what meal plan is best for you. After going through my history, we worked on a meal plan that would be comfortable for my healthy mind, but definitely not my ED mind. It's not terrible. It's only adding 2 snacks to the lunch and dinner I've been trying to do lately anyways. It's just incredible hard when your stomach and digestive tract feel like they are going to ripped out of your body at any second.

Gastroparesis is a nasty bitch. It basically feels like nothing is passing from your stomach to your digestive tract. I can still throw up chunks of food 2 hours after I'm done eating, because it just sits there. Then, it gets to my digestive tract and sits, because my GI system basically trained itself to move very slowly in order to keep the food and energy processing longer when I was barely eating. Now that I'm eating (what seems like) all the time, my body hasn't adjusted. So, the food is literally just sitting, and I am in so much pain that all I can do is lay down, cry, and wait for it to stop.

Today, it's been a battle. After lunch with my coworkers, I could barely walk back from being in so much physical pain. Now, I am laying on my office floor, trying to open up my GI tract with some yoga, and trying not to cry. I just need to be distracted enough to try and not focus on the pain, but this is fucking brutal.

I'm still not really sure how I can do treatment and work, but if this keeps up, I might just crack.