You Can’t Save the Unsaveably Untogether
Every now and again, I get completely caught up in song, in words, it random bullshit that I just can’t shake out of my head.
In the grand scheme of things, at least on the surface, I’ve got it pretty good. I’m living in an apartment that makes me feel like an adult and I’m viewing it as something that will be a transitional space - somewhere that will do until I can move on to something that I know that I want more. I’m finding work on my own and reaching a point where I feel ready to act on a few ideas that I’ve been cookin’ up for a couple of years now. I have a physician who I trust and - even though she practices in another state - I know that when I’m asked how I am on Friday, I’m going to be honest about it, even though it assuredly is not going to be comfortable.
The problem is that I feel so untogether. It’s 1:30 in the afternoon and I should have finished about three more projects by now - but I haven’t; worse than that, God only knows how many more I’m being hit with today. I’m nervous and anxious and life is inside out. And sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to be able to twist it right again (and more often than not, I don’t think it’s going to happen).
I haven’t seen some of my closest friends in three months, but I’ll be seeing them over the course of the next few days. I’m strangely nervous about it - I’ve come to like the anonymity of being in the city. I’m nervous too about them asking how I am because I haven’t talked with them since, well, since my grandfather passed away and as I’ve nearly broken down talking with strangers…
Every Once in a While
Juliana Hatfield
I’d just been about to settle in and start working, but then I picked up the mail. This has had me since:
As usual, it’s one particular song that gets me - Track 8 - So Alone that haunts me from the get go - at least for now:
it’s late at night and you need somebody to talk to but who of all the people that you once new and if you called just what would you say would you break down straight away you’re so alone you want to die and nobody knows you keep leaving messages that don’t say anything like “hi, how’s it going” pretending you’re okay you disguise your fear so you don’t scare them away
Eating Disorder Recovery and Family Life
Since my grandfather passed away - 4 weeks ago come Thursday - I’ve been caught up in a ton of family chaos and emotional drama. There’s always been tension and that tension has led to some whacked out competitive stuff that I just don’t understand (which may be for the better really).
But even when you take the drama out of it, there’s something about family life that still leaves me pulled in many different directions. Part of it is the way that my parents eat and the meals that they choose. Part of it is the way that my parents drink. Part of it too is that, well, let’s face it, I’m not so great at dealing with my emotions.
Spending time with my family often puts me back in that space where I might as well be 17 again: I end up awkward, not really talking with my partner (who had to come back the week I spent with my family for the sake of her new job). And then I end up hearing about how I never talk about how I’m feeling.
On one hand, it’s true. I don’t talk about it. But there’s a reason: when I do, it leads to arguments. I’m told about how wrong I am or how it’s just not that way.
Even now though, having been away from the situation for a few weeks now, I’m still reeling. Something little will set me off in the evenings or I’ll wake up sweating and shaking in the midst of a nightmare.
ED Recovery Blog: A Guest Post
I just wanted to say thank you again for the post - while I’m not always fantastic at replying to emails once I’m moved by something, thank you. And thank you too for getting me thinking and helping me to refocus.
Complete Acceptance from Where I Stand
Right now, sitting over the keyboard of my computer, I’m contemplating the move from total ‘freedom’ to ‘institution’. From having the choice to say ‘no thanks’ to having the choice made, ahem, for me, thank you very much.
Which is exactly one of the reasons I left my therapist and nutritionist a few months ago. My t had posed a question to me, which without discovering an answer to, therapy would be pointless.
Why, she wanted to know, did I hold on to my anorexia? Why, when I had everything else going for me? Weeks in therapy went by, and I couldn’t figure it out. So, instead of spending close to $400 a month to fine tooth comb a vacant mind, I broke free. At least that’s how I worded it. It was a break only, until I could get to the root cause of the problem.
So often it’s past abuse, controlling parents, perfectionist tendancies, the media, blah blah blah - you get the picture. Things lots and lots have studies have been done to prove ad nauseum that AN should be corrected by following a simple mathematical equation, after all.
But folks, I’m an adult here. After 18, it’s not your parent’s fault. You need to learn to deal with it and move on. Hell no was I going to blame them anymore. I’d done that enough, anyways.
One (of many) sleepless nights in bed, it hit me, and I was so ashamed of myself that I recoiled at my own cognitive dissonance.
I was so terrified of losing those whom I loved, that I wanted to die first. After agonizing for so long, and coming up with nothing, this was finally the break-through that I needed.
OK, so now I’m ready to go back to therapy. Only in the process of complete lack of accountability, I am now in the situation where inpatient is the most likely option for me. Yes, I dug my hole deeper because I lost control to the disease that doesn’t love or accept me for who I am, at any given moment in time. What to do now? Gently remind myself of the following:
* Complete acceptance of who I am at every point in recovery. Please tell me this is a fallicy. Does this happen, in real life, to anyone? If so, I want to meet them. Now.
* Triggers are reminders that we are human, and need to be on guard 24/7. They are not excuses to listen to your ed. You can practice and learn to say no.
* On that note, slips will more than likely occur. Slips are one-time events that should be acknowledged, and forgiven. Move on. It really does get better from here.
* Please, please, whatever you do, don’t tell me to “Just Be Yourself”. This is neither helpful nor does it make sense to my already OCD-depressed-anxious self. If I knew who I was, I wouldn’t be sucked into this horrible nightmare trying to show the world how frightened I am by using my ed to speak for me. I am scared, that’s what I am, and afraid that the imbalance that exists right now (sick physical self & sick mental/emotional self) won’t ever be strong enough to turn corners so that I can vocalize my ‘bad/negative/sinful’ emotions without showing you on the outside just how sick I really am.
* Being in the middle is awkward. And there’s nothing wrong with it. Just like there are no bad feelings. It’s what you do with those feelings and working on recovery that really matter. I became really angry during therapy, and it scared me. Anger, much like certain foods, was not a ’safe’ emotion for me. As a reader, it’s easy to spot the flawed logic in that one. To overcome it, I had to accept that I had a right, every right, to be angry.
* While I’m here, wouldn’t it be rational if I took an active, rather than passive role in the whole process? Yes, but it’s hard when so much of my AN is wrapped up in emotions. Learning to leverage and challenge my emotional state is a challenging endeavor. But if I can get over the safety net of compliance, so too can I learn to appreciate every step of the way.
So many times we are told it’s the journey, not the destination. I think, in the realm of my ed, I have accepted that the destination is death. So I must alter the course of my journey to make any progress.
Because I will die, just like you and everyone else around us. The question is just how much suffering am I am going to put myself and those I love through, getting there?
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