Tag Archives: depressed


I’m not great at dealing with changes that aren’t my decision. Which, really, covers a lot of changes.

Usually I can bring myself around to being ok with the changes given enough time, how much time is needed is really dependent on what the change is and how off guard it caught me.

Something else I’m not good at dealing with is people going away. I guess you could say I have abandonment issues. *rolls eyes* I’m usually pretty good at pulling away and cutting ties first, before the other person can, and that has always worked for me. Every now and then the other person manages to leave first and it reinforces to me how I have to be more diligent and make sure I am the strong one who is leaving, not the weak one who is left behind.

But there are two people, one who left but is coming back, and one who is leaving soon, that are part of my treatment team, and the changes are really fucking with me.

My case worker disappeared ages ago. So long ago I don’t even remember for sure when she left! It sort of didn’t matter, since I was seeing someone else one-on-one, and already set up for my next group. I really only see her at the end of an 8 week group where she and I have a debrief and she tells me what group I go in to next, or I guess I could reach out to her in distress or with a question but I never have. She was co-running the group I am in now so her leaving meant someone else came in, but it is someone I know and am used to so I didn’t mind that she was there. What I did mind was that a different doctor, let’s use the initial M for her, was all of a sudden everywhere. She was co-running the drop-in instead of my case worker, she was co-running my core group, she randomly phoned me one week to talk about the core group, she had someone else come speak to me after drop-in because of something I had written on a check-in form we fill out at the end of our weekly group session. Seriously, I can’t get away from M if I try, and it was like she was taking the place of my case worker, and I don’t like that.

I don’t like that she left. I don’t like that some other person seemed to just step right in and take over all her stuff. I don’t like that nobody tells us anything so I have no idea if or when she is coming back. She could be dead for all I know.

Then this past week I find out she is coming back in the next week or so…and it seems I don’t know how I feel about that. She just left, out of nowhere. And now she is just allowed to waltz back in and resume where she left off? Does this mean she is still my caseworker? She doesn’t even know what I’ve been doing these past months while she’s been away. I don’t know if I want to deal with her again because I have trust issues and it took a lot for me to tell her anything and trust her to what extent I had been able, and then she left, and now what, she’s back so I’m just supposed to automatically trust her again? Or still?

I dunno. It’s weird to me.

The other person, let’s call him B, is the counsellor I see for one-on-one sessions. He is technically a student, doing his practicum work, and he is done in three weeks. This is even more stupid, because I knew all along he’d be gone somewhere around April, I knew he wasn’t a permanent part of my treatment team, but he has also been the most helpful person to me, the most supportive person in my journey, my time with him has had more impact on my recovery than any of the other groups combined. Which is kind of funny considering I signed up to meet with him thinking I’d meet with him once, not like it, and back out but feel ok about it because at least I tried. But it turned out I didn’t mind talking to him, and in fact, my sessions with him have become a huge touchstone in my week and I will be lost without them.

I know he is leaving. I have always known he was going to leave. I didn’t think I’d get attached to him, but I did. And I don’t know what I am going to do once our one-on-ones are over. I know he isn’t a friend, he is my counsellor, but he is the only person I speak with, who doesn’t have an eating disorder, who knows I have an eating disorder, who I can talk openly with about whatever I want. I can tell him flat out I need help figuring out if something I am thinking is messed up or normal. I have had him pry information out of me on days I am shut down and not able to access my emotions. He has seen me confused, sad, pissed off, and I know that is his job, I know him being there and helping me through shit is because it is his career, not because we are friends hanging out, but I feel like I am going to miss having him around the way I miss having a friend around. There will be a noticeable absence in my life, my routine, and in this case, my mental health support system.

I don’t want him to go, even as I want him to graduate and go do awesome things.

I don’t deal well when I lose people. If they come back it takes me even longer to trust them again. When they leave it affects me not just on the surface, but right down to my core beliefs, because their leaving reinforces all the negative shit I feel about myself, all the negative outlooks I have on life, society, everything.

I know it is messed up. I know that I knew the whole time he would be leaving. I stupidly let myself get used to having him around and I actually started relying on him, and now I don’t know what to do. How am I going to cope? If it was anybody else leaving I’d be talking to him about how to cope but I can’t very well go to him about this. I can already feel myself shutting down as a defence, to help stop or block the hurt I know I will feel when he is really gone. I am getting moodier, more depressed, not laughing or talking as much, withdrawing from everything, getting more aggressive, more sarcastic, binge eating more, then restricting more. All sorts of things that are manifestations of how unhappy I am are popping up and I don’t really give a fuck.

I’m becoming more anti-social? Who cares, it is how I am normally anyways. This whole making friends thing was an anomaly that wasn’t going to last anyways.

I’m talking less? Participating less? So what, I don’t need people to talk to, or groups to participate in. I’m fine on my own, always have been, always will be.

I’m relying less on my support system? I should be. Support systems are for losers, for wimps, for cowards, who can’t face the world alone. I am alone, I am strong enough to take care of myself because I am the only one who will.

Deep down I’m confused and sad? Screw that. Bury those emotions, squash em down until you don’t feel them anymore, they are a waste of energy and make me weak.

I hate this. I hate that I used to not be aware of shit like this, I just was how I was, and now I am more aware but still completely incapable of handling the overload of emotions. So now I am overloaded on top of all the shit I am feeling, and vaguely aware that my coping mechanisms are not helpful to my recovery or to living a normal life, but again, don’t know how to not engage in them. So I’m aware that I’m sliding, but not equipped with enough skills to stop the slide.

This fucking sucks.


No one is watching me slide below street level

Barely alive


Just Stop

Can people I know just stop dying, please, for like a week or so, because seriously man, I need time to catch up on all the grief I am feeling…or should I say trying to not feel cause who has time to grieve when people keep dying?


I feel like a selfish brat being all me-me-me while people are dying but ya know what, they don’t feel anything anymore, it is the people left behind who have to figure out how to process all the shitty feelings and some days there is just too much to process and you end up wanting to shut your eyes, cover your ears, and yell out la-la-la-I-can’t-hear-you! until it all goes away.

Ironically, the person has already gone away, forever, it is the feelings that won’t go anywhere until you either stuff em down with food, or alcohol, or drugs, or some other numbing system or you, ya know, deal with them…which is not a thing I know how to do.

Normally I am dealing with one dead person at a time so while it sucks balls it doesn’t overwhelm like now. But right now I’ve got one dead person, one going to die any minute person, one grieving person because someone they know died, and one more person who could go either way (dead or back to some semblance of living, though the quality of life they would have is suspect).


I know I’m coming across as glib but that is the only way I can deal right now. I have no appetite, but when I am around food I find myself eating out of reflex since usually I manage high emotional situations with binges, so I’m trying to stay away from food so I don’t mindlessly binge. I don’t mind the restricting, I could definitely use some low cal days to counteract some higher cal days last week, and the week prior, aaaaaand ok fine, the week before that too.

My eating has not been on point ok?

Now it is getting worse and I kinda don’t care. Thanks to some of the stuff I’ve learned in recovery I sometimes know the choices I am making aren’t the right one, or the healthy one, and I sometimes stand in the kitchen and think “the dietitian would want me to do this” but then my brain goes “but you’d rather do that” and more often than not I go with what I want, not what my dietitian would want, cause ya know what, it’s my life and should be my choice and her choices are making me fatter, so fuck that.

I know the mere act of living involves dealing with death, and yes I know there is no getting around that, but oh man does it suck. And going back to the selfish thing, I could really use a bit of a break from the death part of life, even if just for a short amount of time, if only to stop me feeling like I am drowning and can’t get my head above water for anything beyond a quick desperate gasp of air.

drowning 2

New Bones

Last week I noticed that the rib bones on the top part of my chest (above my breasts) are more visible. I don’t know when exactly that happened, it isn’t an area I focus on a lot, and I never thought I was fat there before but now that I can clearly see the bones there I wonder how I didn’t notice I had extra fat there.

Was I oblivious?

I think it is more that my collarbones are fairly prominent and I’m more concerned about the extra fat on my abdominal area and thighs. Gotta prioritize ya know?

So yeah…I’ve been losing more weight, yay! and gained new bones, yay! and I have massive amounts of fear that I will screw this up and lose them, boo!

Lose them…like they will fall out of my body or something *rolls eyes* Losing them would be having them once again hidden under dreaded fat. But seriously, why couldn’t the fat have come off other areas first? sigh.

For days after I noticed the new bones I was happy, I wished I had someone to share this new development with but not like there is anybody to tell. So I stayed quiet about it and hugged the news to myself, using it to boost my mood when I started to get a bit down. I also used it as motivation for restricting even more and helping to bolster my will power when tempted to eat.

Pretty fucked up huh?

I didn’t think it was all that noticeable to other people, I generally wear not high neck tops but not low ones either, so the area is covered up for the most part but something odd happened. I went to work and three different managers took time to sit down with me, give me some serious eye contact, and ask if I was ok.

Strange huh?

There is one person who knows a bit of what I go through, she doesn’t understand and keeps telling me to “just eat already!” but someone who knows a little bit is better then not having anybody, I guess…I’m not really sure…but in theory it is better. So yeah, she is a friend at work and I got paranoid that she ratted me out to management but I asked her about it and she swears she didn’t. She thinks they sat me down to talk because my initial weight loss was a “wow, how awesome” kind of thing but has gone too far and is now a “she’s getting too skinny” kind of thing. I don’t believe her, she is definitely exaggerating because I am nowhere near skinny enough to look like someone who anyone should worry about. I still have too much fat on me in too many places. But the timing sure was odd.

My initial happiness about the new chest bones has faded. I’m still happy about them, and I look at them in the mirror every day to make sure they aren’t getting hidden under fat again, but life gets in the way and other things have over ridden the happy emotions I got after first noticing the bones.

A friend died, and I’m not handling it well. I’m binge eating like crazy, which is making me more paranoid about losing the bones, which drives me to take more diet pills and laxatives, which gives me abdominal pain, which leads me to not eat because of the pain, which leads to me feeling too many emotions and stuffing my face to squash the emotions, which starts the cycle up all over again.

It sucks.

I was watching an old tv show on YouTube, it is about teens who go to a ranch for therapy instead of detention. It is from the late 80s or early 90s I think. I’ve been binge watching it and there was an episode where a girl has an eating disorder and also is super athletic and she had a heart attack because of an electrolyte imbalance and being near starved to death…though the actress they cast doesn’t look at all anorexic…but since you can’t always tell from looking at a person maybe that is why they cast her…ok not the point…

It got me wondering thought, about health side effects from eating disorders. I always think that the negative health stuff only happens to anorexics who are super under weight. I’m not gonna have electrolyte issues, or heart attacks, or whatever else might happen because there is still too much fat on me. I haven’t reached that level of danger. But maybe that is wrong? I dunno. I know I get chest pains, and sometimes shortness of breath from activities that shouldn’t cause me to be short of breath, but that is a far cry from actual heart issues.

I should probably ask my case worker at our next meeting but I think it is gonna be bad enough having to admit I started using my pills again. I can’t see a conversation that organically grows from that admission to “can I have heart issues even though I’m still so fat?”. It was bad enough the other week when I hadda talk to her about my self-harm action. *rolls eyes*

Something I don’t get about her, she hasn’t yelled at me yet. I keep waiting for her to get exasperated, or mad, or just plain yell or order me to do or not do something, but she always talks to me in a calm, patient, voice. Its weird.

This post is kinda all over the place. But so is my brain right now so I guess the post is a good reflection of the inside of my head.

I was supposed to work today but I called in sick. I had abdominal pains so it was a legit reason for calling, but during the day I realized I was acting odd…sorta numb, sad, depressed. I wanted to eat everything and anything but I wasn’t hungry, in fact the abdominal pain I had made eating rather unpleasant. I think it is a reaction to finding out about my friend dying…I was told yesterday and lemme tell ya, after I was told, the rest of my day did not go well. I was all over the place emotionally, mostly mad, but with burst of overwhelming sadness thrown in there for good measure. I just couldn’t face people today.

I’m so mad. Mad that he is dead. Mad that I’m going to have to deal with people at work talking about it for the next week. Mad I didn’t get to say goodbye. Mad that I let myself get attached.

Just. Mad.

That anger is driving pretty much everything I am doing right now. It drove me to eat two desserts today that I definitely didn’t need, or even want. It is currently driving me to not eat anything more until tomorrow as punishment for eating the desserts. It is why I keep punching the wall. Why I took my diet pills today, I wanted the stomach pain they would give me.

I feel like I deserve the pain. My inability to control my eating today means I earned pain, and punishment. I feel like I am being torn apart inside and it makes me want to scream that no one who sees me can tell. Is it because people don’t really look at people any longer or because I am that good at hiding what is really going on inside me. Does it matter which reason it is? Not really. The result is the same.

I hurt. I don’t mean the pain from the pills. I mean me, my heart, it hurts. My body hurts from how I treat it, my heart hurts because I was stupid enough to let it get attached to some people and one of them is now dead.

Death. It is so fucking final. I hate that I’ll never hear his voice anymore. I hate that no one will ever call me the nickname he called me. I hate that we’ll never joke around, and I’ll never read anymore stories that he wrote, I hate that we’ll never talk movies or books or stuff happening in the world. I hate that he is gone, and I especially hate that I am so fucking selfish that I keep thinking that his being gone means I am even more alone.




For Realsies?


I grocery shopped today. I bought a frozen pizza (pepperoni), a box of store brand macaroni & cheese (it is surprisingly better than KD), partial fixings for a binge meal for another day (the rest of the items can be bought at a different store for cheaper), cake mix, cheese, I think that’s it…I want to say I bought something healthy but can’t think of anything…wait! I bought two bananas!…purchased because (1) I like them and (2) I wanted to look like I was buying random forgotten things and not just binge food and thought bananas would help with that…as if anyone actually looked in my basket and cared *rolls eyes*

The pizza is gone, eaten in under 10 minutes, well, maybe 15 minutes as I waited a bit for it to cool.

The cake mix will be made and baked pretty soon.

I am doing my freakin best to forget the macaroni & cheese is in my cupboard.

I can’t do anything with the partial fixings for a different days binge meal.

The cheese has been opened and partially eaten.

I am trying to be grateful I didn’t also buy the ice cream I wanted, it was in my basket but I managed to put it back. I also put back donuts, cookies, a cake…sigh.

It is a good thing nobody does watch me when I grocery shop because I must’ve looked like an idiot. Picking something up, putting it back, walking to a different aisle, picking something else up, putting it back, staring for a good 10 minutes at the fresh baking wishing I could buy all the donuts but knowing I’ll hate myself if I eat them and knowing I would eat them if I bought them so all I could do was stare and not touch.

I weighed in today and gained 0.8lbs. Might as well be 80lbs with the way it made me feel. I was already in a bit of a slump but that weigh-in exasperated my unhappiness with my self and I’d say “wallowing in depression” is an accurate way to describe the rest of my day. Which led to a “fuck it” attitude. Which led to that grocery shopping trip. Which led to me devouring an entire pizza and then some.

I irritate myself.


Not A Great Day

The title says it all. Today is not a great day. I woke up in a blah mood, not really wanting to face the world but having things I had to do so out I went. I really should have never left the apartment, ugh. I am easily irritated today, have no patience, am near tears, and just want to hide from everyone and everything.

At the same time part of me just doesn’t care. I was driving earlier, saw a car coming, turned anyways, cut them off, they were blowing their horn at me, it was a dumb ass move that could have caused an accident and yet…I just don’t care. I didn’t care when I did it, I don’t care now, I am numb.

I had a work lunch, they served Malaysian food, I took a random assortment of things, mostly things in sauces that spread out a lot so my plate looked like it had more food on it than it really did. I also purposefully took a serving of the pork dish, pretending I didn’t realize it was pork, so when I sat down and “discovered” the pork I could be all shocked and dismayed and nobody blinked at me not eating that part of my food – they all know I don’t eat pork. Yay for being good at deceiving people I guess…

I went to a drop in meeting last Monday for people with ED. I have been on a waiting list for 4 months to get some sort of help, frankly I kinda thought they forgot about me, so I was plugging along, doing my own thing, losing weight and doing ok when out of nowhere they called. I had an info session type of thing, learned the rules etc, and then had my first group meeting. I start actual classes or something in January but until then I am required to attend minimum 2 drop in sessions per month. There are 3 different types of drop in session and I can pick any combo of the three types I want.

The one I went to is a Weekly Support Group. The other two are a Weekly Relaxation / Meditation Group and a Weekly Meal Support Group.

The Weekly Support Group was ok I guess. A bunch of people with various eating disorders sitting around talking about all kinds of things with a shrink and a dietitian sitting with us for mediation / information / feedback. It was weird to hear other people talking about behaviours that I do, or about having the same thoughts that I think. It isn’t like I thought I was the only person who had these thoughts or behaviours or issues but I’ve never talked openly to anyone about them and never heard other people talking openly about what they do.

Since that meeting though, my restrictive eating has increased. I had gotten to what I thought of as a decent balance of food, not too much food, not too little food, for me. This past week though it seems like there is no end to situations that occur that end with me eating something I shouldn’t, and all the restricting I have been doing has not been enough compensation, resulting in my having gained weight this week. 😦

I knew I had gained weight, I could feel that I had, and I am freakin miserable about it. Seeing that number on the scale go up makes me want to cry, or punch something, or not care when I drive, or binge, or purge, or restrict more, or engage in any number of not good for me activities.

So ever since weigh-in today I’ve been struggling. Before weigh-in I was just in a bad mood, since weigh-in I am in a destructive mood. On my way home part of me was all “might as well drive to a bakery and get allllll the food!” while another part of me was all “no food! for minimum 24 hours! must fix this!”

I don’t know which part to listen to, eat everything, eat nothing…I just don’t know.

I compromised, when I got home I took a Cayenne Pepper extract and a Green Tea extract. You are supposed to take them when eating a meal but it was pretty soon after my work lunch so I hoped it would still count. The combo is supposed to help you metabolize your food faster. I decided that if it seemed like they had worked, and if later in the day I feel hungry, I would allow myself some vegetables. If they didn’t seem to work then I would just drink lots of water, tea, and diet coke and wait to eat until sometime tomorrow afternoon.

I’m so mad at going up 1.8lbs in weight when I’ve been working so hard and as of last week had lost 18lbs. Now I feel like I have to start all over.


No Words

Do you ever want to talk because you are going through something but you can’t find the words, you don’t even know what exactly you are going through, you just know you are miserable, but since you have no words to elocute what you are feeling, and aren’t really too sure yourself what it is you’re feeling, you just stay silent and the misery lingers, and grows, and when you aren’t able to distract yourself you find yourself sinking lower and lower into the misery?

That’s me. sigh.

I’m struggling but I know on the surface it doesn’t look like it. I’m still following the weight watchers program. I was away competing with my sports team this past weekend and managed to (1) not restrict and (2) not binge. I’ve been going to work and basically living my life.


But it is all a struggle.

Now that I’m back home after being out of town with my team I find myself restricting. I’m not all the way down to not eating anything but I am under eating by a lot and I kinda don’t care.

I’m not sure what is driving me to restrict. I’ve never really tried to figure out why I restrict but this time I took some time to think about it and I realize I don’t know what is driving me to not eat.

I’m on the waiting list for the adult ed program, I was told the average wait time for a spot is three months and I’m not quite halfway in to that wait time. Most of the time I don’t mind that I haven’t been contacted yet but sometimes I wish I had some sort of help.

The program isn’t an inpatient program, it is a three times a week group meeting sort of thing, from my understanding anyways. Every now and then, kind of frequently lately, I almost wish I was sick enough to be put in an inpatient program. I know realistically that will never happen. For one thing I am not that sick, two, I can’t go inpatient, I have bills and a cat to take care of, three, nobody knows I struggle so nobody will ever notice I need help and reach out to someone on my behalf.

Its weird, I don’t want inpatient, but sometimes I do because maybe I wouldn’t have to be dealing with this feeling as much. I think it might be nice to have someone to lean on…I’m probably wrong though.

I’m rambling, and I know I’m rambling, but I can’t help it. My head is a jumbled place to be and I have nobody to talk to…not that I really know what I want to say…I just…sigh, I’m messed up in my head…

not ok



The Depth

I did better than I thought I would when I went home for Christmas. I managed on multiple days to restrict my calories to a number that didn’t scare the crap out of me and the days I did eat more calories than I am comfie with were days I knew that was going to happen and I did my best to plan ahead for that. By plan ahead I mean mentally plan ahead, there wasn’t much I could do to physically counter act the calories.

A bonus is that even though I was eating more than I was comfie with when I compared the amounts I was eating to what other people were eating I was still eating way less. I use what other people eat as a baseline for my food quantities. If I am eating way less than what other people are eating, even if I am eating more than I feel comfie with, I don’t go in to complete and utter freak-out because I know it could be lots worse.

That might not make any sense to anybody else but it does to me, shrug.

Since I’ve been back though I’ve been pretty down. Not about being back, I am glad to be back, I’m just down about, well, I’m not completely certain what…I’m just down…

I should be happy. I know I should be but I can’t force it, not when it is just me and my laptop. Tomorrow I will fake it, for the entire time I am at work no one will know anything is less than perfect but for now, I’m down.

I feel I am sinking, going down in to the depth of, well, where ever the hell it is I always seem to go when down. Right now I am envisioning it as me sinking down in to a bottomless ocean, the water is a dark blue, it is the same temperature as me so it doesn’t make me feel anything, and instead of floating I keep sinking, farther away from the light, and I can’t even bring myself to care that I’m leaving the light behind, the warmth of the sun, the oxygen I need to live.

I just don’t care.

I keep sinking, the farther down I go the more numb I get. I am still sad, that hasn’t gone away, but the water helps to make it harder to feel the sadness. I know it is still there, lurking, but it can’t affect me, the water keeps me safe from the sadness while also blocking any of the good things from getting through.

A very small part of me knows that I should be fighting this, that I should do anything and everything I can to stop myself from sinking any lower, and to fight to get myself back to the light but that part of me is so small and easy to ignore and well, I don’t know how. It would take so much work and it is so much easier to curl up in a ball and sleep, or watch Netflix and ignore the world…which is pretty much all I’ve been doing all day…

I think I’ll go to bed and see if anything is different in the morning.