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.

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.

Being Pulled Behind the Struggle Bus

So, I'm not totally sure what to put here. My bestie and soul sister from another mister,  Liz, convinced me that I should start a blog to chronicle the crazy of my life. It's been helpful for her, so I figured I should try it.

I've been in recovery from my eating disorder for a few months. I officially entered treatment in February after having a massive mental breakdown after working 40+ hours a week as a therapist, going through a break up, and drinking to the point of intoxication at least 4 times a week. Going to treatment was one of the most terrifying things I've ever done, mostly because I have always been a "stuffer," that person who says, "I'm fine" with a smile of their face but dying on the inside. I just couldn't keep up the facade anymore. So I cracked. I got on a train to St Louis and walked away from my life in Milwaukee as I knew it. I left my job, my friends, everything to try and put myself back together again.

When I first went to treatment,  I only had planned on going for 2 weeks on a medical leave to return to Milwaukee and go back to work. I was doing 6 hours of therapy, 7 days a week. After about a week, I knew I couldn't go back to Milwaukee, maybe not ever again. So, I transitioned into 10 hours of therapy, 7 days a week to get more intense treatment.

Looking back on all of that now, it seems like such a blur. I honestly have a hard time remembering a lot about that time.  But with where I'm at now, I wish I could escape back to that bubble sometimes.

I have been significantly struggling in my recovery lately. I was recently promoted to a new position at my job, which has been chaotic to say the least.  It has also allowed me to skip meals and stay so busy that I "haven't had time to eat." My rational part of my brain calls bullshit on that,  but that irrational ED part is so overwhelming that I have no idea what to do lately.

"You don't want to go back to treatment, do you?"

I can just hear the voices of my friends and family saying that to me in my head. That omnipresent threat helps to keep me in check most days, but I still wonder if I'm slipping away back into ED. Back to my safety zone. Back to my comfort. Back to the world where I don't have to deal with feelings. Back to nothingness.

"You don't want to go back to treatment, do you?"

No.