Stalemate

If you don't change, nothing will. Random messages from my therapist will pop up in my head at seemingly opportune moments when I am struggling. This is a message that's been replaying a lot lately.

Since I started seeing my therapist during IOP at the end of September, I really honestly haven't made too much progress. It's not that I expect to make these huge astounding changes, but I haven't made as much progress as I would have liked at this point.

One of my biggest struggles continues to be meal plan fulfillment. To me, I'm not consciously doing it. The thoughts of "You need to restrict" are no longer incredibly prominent when I am planning a meal. Part of it is honestly just laziness. Following my meal plan is such a daily chore. It involves prepping, (sometimes) cooking, reading labels to check that I am getting all my calories in, actually eating, and then recording my thoughts/feelings/food on my phone to send to my dietician. Rinse and repeat 5 times a day. It's exhausting. Combine that with my stomach issues, and meal plans become dreaded chore. So, I have been skipping some, mostly snacks. It's not every day and it's rarely multiple times in one day; however, it's still not doing what I am supposed to be doing. If you don't change, nothing will.

Then, I look at my therapy sessions. I've been really stalling on the emotional component of my trauma work. As I've talked about before, I have a really difficult time feeling and expressing any type of emotion. It makes me feel very uncomfortable, so I just try to avoid it. My therapist is pushing this aspect more than lately. Part of me is ready to do it, because I actually really hate when I shut down, especially within certain relationships. It causes me to become very detached and isolate, which is not helping my depression right now. The other part of me is flat out terrified to do it. I have a difficult time trusting that my emotions are real. I sometimes worry that, when I go off irrational thoughts,  I will express things that aren't real. They're feelings based off of false knowledge. If it's not irrational, it's foreign. It feels like sharing these emotions will ultimately lead to more pain, because I've opened myself up that much. It's not that I don't trust the people in my life, but I've experienced enough times of my feelings not being validated that I just don't express them. If you don't change, nothing will.

I've had this voice inside of me that hasn't been able to come out in 15+ years. It's something that has so much to say, but no idea how to express these things. Even more so, it's worried that what it has to say isn't important. Rationally, I know that that isn't true. I know I have people in my life and the support of my treatment team that it would be okay. It's overcoming that huge obstacle of my fear to getting there. That's not an easy task. But it has to be done.

If you don't change, nothing will.

I'm ready for a change.

One Year Later: A New Perspective

One year ago today, I made the decision to seek treatment for my eating disorder. 

February 1, 2014. I woke up this morning feeling lower than I had in a very long time with a hangover so bad that I could barely see straight. I hadn't eaten in 4 days, but I had consumed about a bottle and a half of Jack Daniel's in that time. I woke up unsettled and uneasy. I could feel my heart skipping beats, my head spinning, and constant waves of nausea. I had just finished another night of blackout drinking to help alleviate the depression and anxiety I was overwhelmed with. I had been reeling from a break up that I knew was coming but was still having a difficult time accepting. I lay in bed staring the ceiling debating if I would get up or if I would take the bottle of heart pills on my night stand. I could not bear to stand the weight of my eating disorder, my alcoholism, and the bad person I had become. I reflected on how things had gotten so bad.

7 months before, my supervisor was encouraging me to seek treatment. In July, I went to one session with a therapist. I was recommended for intensive outpatient treatment, as I was refusing to leave my job, but I never went back. I had spoken with friends about my eating disorder 7 months before. I was scared about what power it was beginning to have. I knew that I needed help at that point, but I wasn't ready to truly admit it. Shortly after, I entered into a relationship that I was convinced would help distract me from my eating disorder and fulfill this void that I had had for years. In reality, that relationship became my downfall.

From September until January, I put on a brave, happy face to those around me, but no one knew how truly volatile things were in my relationship. My eating disorder behaviors were not only ignored, but they were encouraged. Multiple times a week, I was being told that I needed to go to the gym to tone up. I needed to grow up and move on from my trauma. I just had to deal with these things by working through them, regardless of the flashbacks. My skipped meals went without comment. My drinking escalated quickly as I joined his lifestyle. Soon, I was eating one, maybe two meals per day and drinking enough whiskey that I couldn't remember the hurtful words. I isolated from friends, only seeing them at the bars. I withdrew from my outside world. I went to work and to my relationship. I had no life of my own outside of that. So, when this relationship ended, I had no idea how to live a life outside of my eating disorder or my relationship. I was nothing, and I felt like it.

February 1, 2014. As I stayed in bed, I thought about the people in my life; the ones who tried to reach out and stand by me, even when I was pulling away. I thought about the people I had lost to suicide. I thought about what my loved ones would say if they were the ones who had to stand by and watch me being lowered into the ground, as I has done for so many of my friends before. I decided that I couldn't put my people through that, especially when no one truly knew what was going on. I got out of bed, talked with my roommates, and went out with them to try and have a positive day, but there were so many different thoughts going on that I had no idea what to do. 

I had to think about what my options would be. My biggest was making the choice between continuing to live in this downward spiral or finding some way to get out of it. In all of my previous bouts with anorexia and depression, I always had some type of life transition that allowed me to cope with things better. There was always a light at the end of the tunnel. This time, that light was gone. All I saw was darknesss. If I didn't commit suicide today, I would create a plan that would help alleviate as much of the pain as possible for those around me. I had no doubt in my mind that that would be what happened if I didn't make a change, but there's always that little voice that says "What if?"

What if I made the choice to live differently? What would that even look like? How would I even get there? Could I actually admit what was going on? What would my family say? What would my friends say? Can I give up everything? Can I accept the help that I had been giving to others for so long? Is this really what I should do? Where would I even go? Could my life really be different? What if I failed? What if I can't ever get better? What if this is what the rest of my life is supposed to look like? What would it take to make that change? What if I actually did it?

February 1, 2014. I made the choice to contact my family to let them know what was going on. I wasn't sure what to say or what would happen, but I had to be honest. I spoke with both my brother and my mom to tell them about my suicidality and my eating disorder. I had to admit how bad things were and to what extent. I had to have support to make this change. I have the best family, because they were willing to help me do that.

My family accepted this information with listening ears and open hearts. Had they not done so, I have no doubt in my mind that I would no longer be here. They worked with me to figure out what my best option was and talked about the things that would need to be taken care of: my job, my apartment, my life in Milwaukee. I coordinated with them about what the first steps needed to be. Ultimately, that decision was that I would look into taking a leave of absence from my job in order to seek medical treatment in St Louis and return to Milwaukee after that. It was the first step to a major life change.

I had to contact my job to let them know what was going on. My supervisor was incredibly understanding, but very taken aback, as she had no clue what was going on. I had only been at this job 2 months, so she didn't know my struggles but was willing to support me in any way. She volunteered to contact the company to determine how much leave I would receive and to direct my coworkers in covering my clients. She agreed that I should leave Milwaukee for care in order to avoid personal/professional conflicts and to be with family. She helped ease my mind that maybe I was making the right decision. I spoke with my roommates saying I would be gone for a little while, but I would be returning. I would leave all of my belongings in Milwaukee and take a bag on a train to St Louis to be with my family for a little while.  

February 1, 2014. My roommates and I returned home where I grabbed a pile of clothes off my floor and shoved them into a bag. I couldn't even think straight, but they helped me get organized enough in order to make it through the day. They took me to the train station in downtown Milwaukee. I said goodbye and walked in knowing that I couldn't look back. I sat in the lobby tearing the corners off my paper train ticket, waiting for them to call boarding for my train to Chicago. Finally, that time came. Boarding that train was the most overwhelming experience, but some part of me knew I needed to do it.

I sat on that train and thought about who I needed to tell. I contacted my best friends via text to let them know what I was doing and why, and received nothing but love and support back from them. I cried and stared out the window at Milwaukee and Wisconsin passing by. I knew that nothing would ever be the same. I made the decision to share my journey with those close to me, because it was important to me to be honest, not only with myself, but others too. I knew I had hurt people in this process, and it was important for me to be honest about it so that I might be able to redeem myself in some way to these people. I said goodbye to the life I had known. I got to Chicago, waited anxiously for my next train, and finally boarded for the last leg of my transition.

On my train to St Louis, I couldn't do anything but sleep. I was so emotionally drained and mentally exhausted that my body could not stay awake anymore. For 6 hours, I slept and dreamed of the life I might be able to have; a life that didn't involve obsessing over calories, weight, size, shape. For once, maybe I could have a life that involved being happy. I arrived in St Louis exhausted, but happy to finally be able to get some rest. I was at the end of the longest day of my life, but it would ultimately be the first day of the rest of my life.

February 1, 2015. Today is a vastly different day from the one a year ago. I woke up without a hangover (although, this cold can go away anytime now). Even though I feel a little under the weather physically, I am in a much better place emotionally. 

I am grateful for the new life I have here in St Louis; a life that never would have happened if I had not made the call to my family. This life does not include: a negative relationship, drinking everyday, restricting myself to 500 calories or less, obsessing over each calorie, hating myself if I go over, body checking every time I see a mirror, suicidal thoughts, melting down if something doesn't go the way I planned, and so many other negative things. My new life is one that I never was really sure I ever deserved, and I'm still not 100% convinced that I do. 

February 1, 2015. Today, I am still struggling with some aspects of my eating disorder. My body image can range from "This is okay" to "How did you ever let yourself get this fat?" It depends on the day or the circumstances, but I do have far more better days than bad ones now. I do sometimes struggle with complete meal plan fulfillment, but I try to be honest with myself and my dietician about it. I still have physical problems as the result of restricting. My stomach might not ever be the same, but I am taking the steps to figure out what I can do. My heart condition will always be there, and I have to accept that. Overall, I have learned how to battle ED when that voice gets too loud, rather than caving in and following through on behaviors.

February 1, 2015. I have more love and support from people than I ever would have imagined when I posted that note on Facebook a year ago. So many people, even some I barely knew, reached out to me when I left for treatment and throughout the process. I cannot thank those people enough for that. My family is amazing, and I never would have followed through with treatment or the requirements of it had they not been so supportive, but one of the best parts about coming to treatment was the people I have met during and after this process. 

The people I met in treatment are some of the most courageous people I know. It takes a lot of guts to admit that you have a problem, let alone commit yourself to daily intensive therapy to confront and work through it. That's what makes those people so wonderful. My friends from treatment are truly the ones who have kept me accountable. We have a certain level of comfortability with each other to reach out and say, "I'm really concerned about you. Are you okay?" These are the ones that supported me the most when I went back to IOP at the end of the summer. I would not have felt as comfortable going back had they not supported me in it.

Also, the people I have met outside of treatment have also been so supportive of my recovery and making sure I stay on track. My coworkers have helped keep me sane in a stressful job that has derailed me a few times. They've also made sure we go get margaritas and food when things are really bad. They bring laughter and joy to my life. I also am especially grateful for the one coworker who led me to the best support a girl could ask for. 

I couldn't ask for a better partner, because he is always there for the support when I need it and has also taken the time to learn about my eating disorder behaviors to help ensure that I stay on track. I couldn't have imagined this relationship in my wildest dreams, so I feel so incredibly lucky that he's in my life now.

February 1, 2015. Today, I look forward to the future. I know that so many of the things I have now are because of my choice one year ago today, and I know that in order to keep these things, I need to keep working at recovery and not give into ED. Today, I have love and happiness, things that definitely were not there previously. I have the last year to look back on and recognize that, even though it doesn't often feel like it, I have made leaps and bounds of progress. For the first time, I have taken control of my life and made the decisions I had to in order to get myself in a much better place, and it feels pretty damn good.

All of the Changes

Well, it's been an interesting few days to say the least. I have found myself on another precipice to another major life transition, and it happened much faster than I thought it would; however, it is at the sake of keeping my recovery intact, which has to be the main focus of my life. If it isn't, I'll end up back in partial hospitalization or residential treatment in no time.

I made the decision to put in my 2 weeks notice at my job this week. While I love my coworkers, the actual work I was doing felt very tedious and mindless, and ultimately, it went unappreciated by many people. It felt very monotonous going into work every day, and I could feel the restlessness creeping in. I just have not been happy doing this unfulfilling work of making schedules and dealing with student demands everyday. It ultimately came to a head when I was told I would be facing a pay cut with no notice and shaky rationale. It was my breaking point, because I know that, for my own mental health, I cannot continue to work for this company; however, I have no plan.

The idea of up and leaving a job with no plan when you have bad anxiety is unsettling, to say the least. I had been thinking about leaving for about a month, so I had at least started to apply for other jobs and had 2 interviews back in December; however, nothing really had panned out. So, I went on an application frenzy, attempting to find any job in my career field that would be more fulfilling. As of today, I still have no real plan; however, I did have a second phone interview for a position today, which I am hoping will turn into an in person interview and maybe even a job. So, I have no plan, but I have a lot of motivation to keep going, which is a big change from previous situations.

Ultimately, the stress and unhappiness in this job led to more struggles in my recovery. When my mood is low, I tend to restrict, which ends up derailing my meal plan for the rest of the day. The worst part is no matter how hard I try, I can never quite make up the missed calories before going to bed. Sometimes I'll come close, but it's still hard to tell if it's my full day's worth. Also, with feeling unappreciated, it feeds into my negative core beliefs of "You're worthless" and "Why would anyone reward your work? Clearly, it's not good enough, because you're not good enough." Dealing with these thoughts in my head all day on top of mindless work has been difficult to manage. So, ultimately, I have decided that it was best for me to protect myself and move on.

If I have learned anything in my journey over the last year, it's that if you don't take care of yourself first, everything around you may remain stable for a while, but it will ultimately fall apart. When I'm eating my full meal plan and taking the time to destress, I am at my personal best in those moments. While I recognize that not everyday in recovery is easy, having more bad than good days catches up with you. Sometimes, we need to make the hard choices in order to keep ourselves happy and healthy. If I don't, I will ultimately relapse, and that's a life I don't wish to live anymore. Put yourself first, and the rest falls into place.