Tag Archives: ednos

An Achievement

Something to celebrate, a small achievement, but one I am proud of.

Though, I don’t know how best to describe it and I don’t post pictures of myself on here so not like I can show you…lemme try to explain…

You know when you lay down on your back and lift your head to look down the length of your body to see how flat and bony it looks?

Well, when I got home today I stripped out of my clothes in order to put on some cozy sweats but I lay down on the bed first. As I was laying on the bed in only my underwear I started feeling my ribs and hips with my hands.

No, I wasn’t feeling myself up or anything, I just like to test out my bones, see if they are getting more prominent. I don’t really see myself as I am most of the time so I find I can get a better idea of how much I am losing (or heaven forbid, gaining!) if I feel without looking.

Anyways!

My hip bone felt bonier, I was laying on my side though so it doesn’t really count. So I rolled over onto my back and was feeling my hips and thought “yup, they do feel more pronounced” so I decided to chance it and I looked down the length of my body to take a look at my hips.

Normally when I do this all I see if fat so I don’t like doing this.

Today though I noticed my rib cage is sticking out farther than my breasts (don’t take that as being too impressive, my bra was off and my boobs were flattened from gravity, stupid gravity, sigh) but the big thing, the exciting thing, the thing I am proud of is that there was a gap between my skin and my panties because my panties were held aloft from my body by my hips.

I had a panty gap!

Which I don’t know if that is what it is actually called but who the fuck cares? I have one!

Aaaaaand since my explanation makes nooooo sense I’m gonna try to find a pic…

tumblr_n3gz1dyRLP1syke28o1_250

Ok so see in the picture above how the waistband isn’t touching the torso cuz the hipbones stick out? That is what mine are doing now!

Only I don’t look as good as in this picture cuz this girl is way skinnier than me. But hey, I’m getting there! *crosses fingers*

I’ve been getting better with keeping my calories low and my binges less frequent. I think I sorta inadvertently reset when my friend died. I was so upset that I lost my appetite completely and when it started to come back I was better able to be ruthless about not giving in to it.

I’m going to have to be extra strict for the next week or so as I hurt my knee and can’t run until it is a bit more stable. I’m going to try the bike at the gym tomorrow, see if I can manage that ok, if so then I guess that’ll be my cardio for a while, which sucks balls cause I get a way better workout from running (even though I hate running with a passion) but it is either take it easy for a week and then be ok or push myself and hurt my knee even more which then prevents me from working out at all, for months. It has happened. It is horrible. I really can’t go through that again.

I think I’ll be able to maintain the strictness though, now that I have that panty gap, it’ll be great motivation. After all, I just got it, I don’t want to lose it!

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Tired

I’m tired.

All. The. Time.

I wish I was a cat who could just sleep my days away, but unfortunately I have responsibilities to deal with that force me out of bed much earlier than I want and make me stay up later than I would like.

Then there is the whole problem of not getting a decent sleep when I am finally in bed.

What’s with that?

Seems like some mean trick, not being able to get a decent sleep even though I am so tired.

It was recommended to me I cut out some of my caffeine, so my last drink of the day is now decaf.

It sucks balls.

It also makes me feel tired earlier, which was sorta the point I guess.

The lack of caffeine in that last drink of the day has not magically made it so I can sleep better, or get to sleep faster, or really had any affect on my sleep.

All I notice is I now have more trouble functioning during the day because I am low on caffeine, or at least lower than my norm.

After my friend died I had a two day binge fest. Since then I’ve been a bit more in control of things. Some days I am eating more than I think I should, but not as much as my dietitian wants me to eat. Most days I am still under eating by quite a bit more than I tell my dietitian, I don’t want her to freak out at me. I am also going to the gym more – although that is partially a lie cause last week I was hardly there. A combination of grief, a change in schedule, and really bad cramps kept me away. I plan on recommitting this week though.

I had hoped by going to the gym more I could lose a dress size in time for my one work’s Christmas party but that binge, plus the lack of gym time, has screwed that up for me. So I’ll be as fat as I am right now at the party, which sucks.

I haven’t lost my collarbone, or my shoulder bones, which pleases me. And my hip bones are more noticeable but not as noticeable as I want. I’m getting there though! I’m worried Christmas, well, the month of December really, will derail me, it did last year. The gym will be handy for that, to offset extra food I might eat. I have to be careful though, don’t want to eat more because I think I have a buffer or something.

This post is all over the place, because I am tired and can’t seem to keep a single thought in my head for long before it gets replaced by a new one.

Seriously missing my caffeine right now.

ribs and hips

Goals

Intrusive Thoughts

I’ve heard a lot in recovery about this whole “ed voice” and “intrusive thoughts” deal. Basically, there is your voice, and there is the eating disorder voice, your voice gets drowned out a lot by the eating disorder voice. The eating disorder voice is pretending to be your friend, pretending to want what is best for you but it is actually telling you to do things that are bad for you, it is hurting you.

When you think about engaging in any of your eating disorder habits, that is your eating disorder voice. When you have negative self-talk, or you hurt yourself, or you resist getting healthier, that is also your eating disorder voice.

Some people in group have described their eating disorder voice in such a way that it sounds as if they legit have a second voice in their head, a monster scary voice, that orders them around and they either succumb to the voice’s demands or they fight back.

I have never really understood this idea because I don’t have some scary monster eating disorder voice yelling at me to do or not do things. I just have my own thoughts, my own ideas, my own thinking in my head, and that is what guides my choices.

Because of this I often wonder if I really do have an eating disorder, I mean, how can I have one for real if I don’t have this scary voice in my head, right?

For the last couple weeks I have made a ground meat, mixed veg, pasta, mix, all combined with a tomato pasta sauce. It is boring as fuck to eat, but it does take away the decision on what to eat if I am supposed to be eating but am tired, or can’t make a decision, or just plain don’t know what to do. If I top it with a bit of shredded cheese it becomes a miracle meal in that it contains all 4 food groups. It is something my dietitian approves of, even if I hate eating it because of the pasta, and the bland taste…I suck at cooking, sigh.

So I have a tupperware container filled with this meal in my fridge, just waiting to be eaten.

Mondays after work I usually have enough time to go home, chill for a bit, have a cup of tea, then head out to a weekly drop-in group. A couple Mondays ago I had to stay late at work and didn’t have nearly as much time. On my drive home I was calculating how much time I would have at home before having to leave again to get to group and I remember thinking I had the perfect reason to not eat before going, because there wasn’t enough time to make anything. Then out of nowhere I thought “good thing I have that pasta meat dish I made, I have enough time to warm up some, eat, and still get to group”.

Where the fuck did that come from?? I don’t think things like that. If anything, I think the opposite, I think “hey, time is tight, perfect reason to not eat!” and I am glad I have a justifiable reason to skip eating. A reason that I can use as a defense if anybody asks me what I ate, or if I ate.

So it would appear that if I have intrusive thoughts they come in the style of thoughts encouraging me to eat.

That is so messed up.

Next thing you know I’m going to have a random thought to throw out my diet pills, or not binge, or not burn myself.

I don’t know what, if anything, having this intrusive thought means. Does it mean I am getting better? Does it mean all the thoughts I feel are just me are actually my eating disorder and this one random healthier thought is the real me breaking through? Is it just a fluke thing that will never happen again?

I dunno. And I don’t know how to figure it out. I just know it freaked me out and has left me wondering, and ruminating, and dissecting, what happened ever since.

My Line

Everyone has a line that when they cross it they go “shit, this isn’t good, I’ve gotta fix this”. Or something to that effect. I crossed my line so accidentally that I didn’t realize I had done it until the damage was done.

And now I feel I have to do something about it. Well, sorta. I felt more strongly about needing to do something about it yesterday, when the pain and injury were worse, today, as it is healing and less painful I’m not quite ambivalent but close to…I imagine tomorrow I’ll be even less inclined to take action…I wonder if eventually my line will move?

Maybe that is how it happens…you cross your line by accident, have a day of “gotta fix this shit”, then the next day comes, you realize the world hasn’t ended and you’re still able to function and are less worried, and over time your line moves, so that next time you get to that same point that caused panic only yesterday you don’t even feel a twinge of worry.

That should be unsettling, but I sorta don’t care…

This probably doesn’t make any sense, lemme explain.

I don’t cut myself, that’s not my thing, but I do burn myself, which when written down like this sounds horrible but it really isn’t. I make sure to not burn so bad I will scar, or impede my ability to function, I don’t burn myself where people will see, it’s not a big deal.

Except apparently it is? At ED recovery it got discovered by my case worker and my dietitian and they didn’t take it well. Not that they freaked out or anything, but it became this thing that required more meetings and talking, and it is what ended me up having to go see the shrink. They take it way more seriously than I do.

A couple months ago I burnt my arm more than intended, second degree, and ended up with a small scar. It is annoying and I don’t like it. I have extensive first aid training so I am able to competently tend to my own burns, but even with tending, I got that stupid scar.

I told myself I wouldn’t do that again. I wouldn’t second degree burn myself again, I’d not take the risk of another scar.

Notice I don’t actually care about being injured or what it is doing to my body, it is pure vanity driving this decision. That and if my case worker notices I am bandaged up again it might open up more intense discussions etc and ugh, no thanks!

Well, two nights ago I accidentally second degree burned my arm, different spot, but still…not good. I didn’t mean to, I swear! And I didn’t realize how bad it was until Friday morning when I was at work, I scratched my arm and hit this massive blister that is surrounded by smaller blisters and a hella lot of red skin.

sigh.

So I tended to it.

Today when I took the bandage off to wash the wound I discovered that the freakin massive blister that was hard only yesterday has burst (I probably bumped it and didn’t realize) so my chance of a new scar is pretty high. Oh, and infection, the chance of infection has increased also.

Yesterday, after discovering it, I was upset. Upset with myself for doing this. Even though it was by accident I was still upset. I don’t want another scar. The blisters are in a spot that make it easy to bump and cause more pain. I’m going to have to wear long sleeves for at least a week to keep the bandage hidden. Basically, I am upset because this injury will affect my day-to-day life for 3-14 days (depending on speed of healing). It is one thing to burn myself when the damage is minimal and I am not affected the next day but this, this is affecting me and I am annoyed by it.

The whole being upset thing caused me to seriously think about my whole burning myself deal and I was motivated to want to make changes to stop the burning. I didn’t know what to do and I just kept thinking I should talk to my case worker, tell her what I did, tell her I want to change, ask her for help. I don’t want to go on meds but maybe there is something else that can be done.

Today, with the blisters healing, the pain less noticeable, my being over 24 hours from the time of injury, I care less about stopping myself from doing this again. I am more inclined to think that since this was an accident it doesn’t really count and what is the big deal, don’t blow things out of proportion, stuff like that…which may be my brain trying to rationalize irrational behaviour so as to stop me from recovering (and if that doesn’t sound like a sentence made by someone who is in treatment I don’t know what does! lol)

But yeah, I crossed my line by accident, and now I’m wondering if my line will end up moving as a result…something to ponder as I go re-bandage my arm. *rolls eyes*

The Scale

The scale is whack yo.

Yes, apparently I am a 90’s, white boy from suburbia who thinks he is cool today…

Ok not really.

But the scale is pretty fucked up. Or is it me?

My “official” weigh-in is Thursdays. I go to a WW meeting and stand on a scale and if I am asked by someone that week what I weigh, that number is the one I will give. I do however weigh myself at home, often.

My home scale and the WW scale don’t ever match. My home scale usually has me one pound lower than the WW scale, sometimes a pound and a half. You don’t know how fucking irritating it is to see a number on my scale at home the morning of weigh-in and then get to weigh-in and see it up by 1 to 1.5 pounds. Even though I know that increase will be partly due to my clothes, and the humidity in the weigh-in room, and that I hadn’t just right the second before stepping on that scale gone to the bathroom, it doesn’t matter. It pisses me off that my “official” weigh-in is higher than my home scale.

Anyways!

I’m getting on to a tangent, sorry…

So, I knew last Thursday my weight would be up, it wasn’t a great week for me food and exercise wise. There was way more food than there should have been and nowhere near the amount of exercise there should have been and all that results in my becoming an even fatter version of myself.

Lovely.

Two days before my official weigh-in I pulled out the metabolism boosters. I had put them in the back of a cupboard thinking I could stop using them. Apparently I was wrong.

Took some of those.

Then the day before weigh-in I stopped eating so I would be in a state of fasting when I got to the scale and I took some laxatives. I had also put those in the back of the cupboard thinking I could stop using them. You’re probably not shocked to hear I was wrong about that also.

The thing is, I know taking the laxatives isn’t a guaranteed method for helping me before a weigh-in. The box says within 6 hours of taking them I’ll be relieving myself but that timeline never pans out for me.

For me, I ended up going to weigh-in with abdominal pain, I was gassy feeling, felt bloated, and I hadn’t gone to the bathroom.

Why do I take these things?? Or at least why do I wait to take them until the day prior? I should be taking them two days prior but noooooo, I pop em the day before weigh-in, essentially screwing myself over. Ugh.

So yeah, my official weigh-in had me up. Not shocking. It had me up a lot though which was disheartening.

I tried to convince myself it was because I wore a long shirt instead of a tank top, and that the humidity was killing me, and that I hadn’t pooped yet. But really, I ate bad that past week, and I didn’t exercise as much as normal, so the gain was deserved.

Later that same day the laxatives kicked in, yay! I still had abdominal pain but the being bloated and gassy went away after some toilet visits. That evening I stepped on the scale, I normally don’t step on it in the evening cause it messes with my head, but I wanted to see if the bathroom visits had made a difference.

They had not.

In fact, I was up even more than in the morning! I started freaking out, was the scale just going to keep going up and up and up? Was all that food cementing itself in to my fat cells never to leave my body?

I came up with a panicked plan about how to fix all this damage I did by eating the previous week. Not a rational normal person plan, but a back to eating no more than 700 calories a day and popping metabolism boosters like they are candy and exercising every single day sort of plan. Soooo, not a good plan. *rolls eyes*

But hey, do I get points for realizing it wasn’t a good plan?

Probably not…sigh.

I stepped on the scale again today (Friday). The day after my official weigh-in. I don’t know what I was expecting. I mean, yeah, I under ate yesterday, but one day of under eating wasn’t going to take away all that gain on the scale. I guess I just wanted to keep an eye on things.

Well holy shit, the scale changed, and it had gone down! It showed me back at the weight I was at 2 weeks ago.

Thank all the gods!

Now to not screw up the magical loss of those pounds so I can be down on my official weigh-in day next week…

I am not sure if I should villianize the pills because yes ok, they didn’t help me on weigh-in day but ultimately I was down by the day after, so maybe if I’d taken the metabolism boosters on the Monday and the laxatives on the Tuesday I would have had the Wednesday to be gassy etc, and then I might have been down for the Thursday weigh-in?

I don’t know. I get so confused.

Either way, I was in a pretty good mood today once I saw the scale number was down. Though I’m starting to worry about tomorrow and what it will say when I step on it then…seriously, does this cycle ever fucking end?

be perfect

Permission

Last night, around 7pm, I realized I hadn’t eaten for 8 hours. Now, 8 hours is nothing, I have gone upwards of 48 hours with nothing but tea and diet coke, but at the 8 hour mark I started to feel hungry.

I knew I could resist it, fight it, not give in to it, and eventually the feeling would pass. I was really tempted to do all of that. I had a weigh-in the next day and if I didn’t eat that evening then by my weigh-in time I would have gone without anything solid in my stomach for a little over 24 hours. Add in some planned dehydration and it would be a great weigh-in!

But then this niggling thought entered my head, telling me normal people would eat something. Not just a small bite of something, but a meal. Normal people eat more frequently than every 8 hours or longer. According to the nutritionist I see, they eat every 3 to 4 hours…something I find ridiculous but whatever, shrug.

So I sat, and I wondered if I should eat, and I really couldn’t figure it out. I would think “yes, I should eat something” and then I would sit there paralyzed by a bombardment of thoughts…

  • what should I eat?
  • what quantity of food should I eat?
  • I ate 8 hours ago, do I really need to eat again so soon?
  • what kind of food prep am I going to have to do?
  • I’m tired, do I really have the energy to cook, maybe I should go to bed instead

I sat, curled up in a ball, staring at the kitchen for almost an hour, not knowing what to do. Even when I would decide I was going to eat I just kept sitting there, scared. I felt like I needed someone to tell me it was ok to eat, but who is going to tell me that? The only one I live with is the cat, he certainly isn’t going to tell me anything. I have no one I can reach out to about this, and even if I did, what would I say? “Oh hey, can you please give me permission to eat because I can’t give it to myself” They’d think I was a lunatic.

Eventually I went in to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to tell myself it was ok to eat. When I wasn’t able to do that I tried telling myself why I should eat, that didn’t work either. I don’t have any catch-phrases to tell myself, little inspirational quotes to get me believing I should eat. Hell, I couldn’t even come up with a plausible lie to convince myself to eat.

I ended up telling myself “you need to eat because…well, just because” and left it at that. I made a deal with myself, I could listen to music and dance while cooking, as long as I cooked and ate something. I couldn’t dive right in to it so I cleaned for a little bit and after a while started prepping my veggies.

I made roasted sweet potato and beets. I keep trying to roast root vegetables and they never turn out as good as they should, sigh. These turned out edible, but not amazing. I paired them with two little sausages so I would have some protein in there. I’m supposed to eat something from all four food groups every time I ate but I can’t quite seem to manage that yet.

That sweet potato had been sitting on my counter for 2 weeks! I bought it with the intention of eating it but couldn’t bring myself to cook and eat it. Too dangerous. Last time I tried eating one it sat on my counter for so long it sprouted these long stalks and I planted the thing outside to see if I could grow my own sweet potato…fyi, it worked, but only kinda. I had to plant it in a pot and one cutting resulted in 5 sweet potatoes but the pot was too small and the potatoes were tiny. Ah well. I really wanted to not have to do all that again with this one so I’m kinda happy I managed to eat it, even if it didn’t turn out as tasty as I wanted…I should’ve steamed it, it always tastes good done that way.

After I ate that I didn’t eat anything else for the rest of the day. I’m super pissed I ate it because I was up at weigh-in today, I’m sure if I had fasted I wouldn’t have been! Arg. So annoying.

I’m told that eating a “healthy amount on a regular basis” will not have me gaining huge amounts of weight and getting fat but one meal put me up over a pound! It’s hard to believe the counselors when the results of eating are easily seen in the number on the scale. If it is a choice between believing what people tell me or believing the scale I gotta say I lean heavily towards believing the scale, how can I not when it gives me concrete truth?

beauty

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.

alone