That’s it, my trip home is over and in all honesty I’m relieved. We’re up at 5.30 am tomorrow to head back to some normality.
I have no idea what 2019 will hold for myself and little man. What I do know is that I hold little optimism.
I’ve had teary sessions at home, with good reason and without. I’m still staggering, searching for footholds; but I keep slipping.
I have however regained some control over my purging habits, so that I guess is progress.
I’ve been struggling with food lately. I’ve been binging, feeling disgusting and vomiting. I was waking up in the morning with sore throats and let’s be honest, it will destroy my teeth.
My meds have helped a little I think, in that I’m binging a little less (when I do eat though it’s junk) and I’ve tried to replace vomiting with exercise.
I’ve just done a 16 km bike ride. When I’m out on my bike I’m not eating and I’m burning calories. I feel the need though to go further and further each night. I feel fat and disgusting if I don’t go. It’s becoming a bit of an addiction, but then I guess it’s better than vomuting?
I really really REALLY wish I could kick my ball again.
I’ve been invited around to my friends for a cuppa. I accepted the invite yesterday but today I’m feeling too ugly to go. I look like crap. I just want to hide away.
I’m trying to be rational. Your friend knows what you look like Friends don’t care what you look like.
I’m on the brink if cancelling. Just go Loopy!!!
Today was about getting back on track. I’ve had a troubled few days, but I’ve hit the reset button, and am ready to start looking after myself again.
I visited a friend today. I talked in an earlier blog about the temporary friends you make when you’re in a psych hospital, but I failed to mention that I also made a keeper. I visited her today. Chatting with her helped me to gain some perspective. I can recognise disordered thinking in others. It’s as glaringly obvious as a bright sun in clear blue skies. This friend of mine, is someone who has no idea how beautiful she is both inside and out, and unfortunately it’s slowly destroying her. Someone made a comment to her today; “you’re looking really well.” My friend gave me an insight into the hell that is body dysmorphia, because this well meaning comment equated to “You’ve gained weight” By the time I saw her at lunchtime, she’d done 60,000 steps. I wish I could help her, but I can’t. I also need to tread a little carefully as I have a habit of taking on other peoples baggage.
Seeing her though has made me thankful that I’m out, and made me determined to work a little harder on finding the right path to better mental health.
I’ve just come back from the gym and it has made me feel good this evening. Now if only I could stop my mirtazapine…………
Last night, I longed for death, tonight I want to fight. My head is all over the place.
I don’t have the will power to be anorexic. However my relationship with food is difficult at the moment.
I’ve abandoned my compassionate self, and lost sight of the “fab four”
I’ve self harmed again, and it felt good. Damn it!
I’ve turned 33 today. Right now, I really don’t want to see 34. Put simply, I’m feeling really sad. I want to go to bed and never wake up.
OH surprised me with a fitbit this morning. It’s just what I wanted, but I’ll likely be returning it. I can’t read the display. I’m a little gutted and honestly I’m sick of my crappy vision.
Myself and OH went out for dinner, as mum is here to babysit. If mum wasn’t here I’d be throwing up right now. I feel absolutely disgusting. To quote my mum; “you’ve not gained weight on your face, just your gut!”
I feel really guilty about having dessert.
I love OH and my Little man but I really really can’t do this anymore. There’s that inner conflict again. I really want to give up.
I’m no good for either of them.
Fat and happy. I can’t find happiness though, beneath the rolls of fat.
I’m back in my own house again, and have been to the gym. I really needed those exercise induced endorphins today. I’ve been crashing.
No amount of exercise can combat this horrible weight gain though. I feel grotesque and really want to stop my meds. My head is full of conflict. It’s a familiar feeling but an unwelcome one. I’m beginning to fear food. I’m calorie counting and I’m stressed.
For this weeks psychology homework, I’ve been tasked with writing a compassionate letter to myself. The last time I sat and wrote a hand written letter was when I penned my suicide note on August 3rd. That in itself made this feel a little difficult.
I did give it a go, but I found this really tough. The perfectionist in me wanted to plan it out, write it logically with good flow and appropriate paragraghs, but the advice given on the homework sheet was to just let it flow. I’m not a let it flow kind of person. I feel like I’ve failed at this although I guess it will just take practice. When I’ve written one I’m happy with I will share it with you all. I have a psychology session tomorrow and I’m not sure I’m even comfortable sharing it with her.
I ended the letter with “you need to stop binging”. I’m struggling with food at the moment. Even though I’m hitting the gym regularly the numbers on the scale keep rising. I hate my fat disugusting body, which paradoxically makes me binge………….and then I purge…. I’m at a loss here. It must be the meds, and I can’t stop those. I really don’t know how to control this.
I had hoped this milestone of a post would be inspiring and hopeful; and perhaps would even gleefully document my liberation from this place. Sadly that was not to be. This evening has taken somewhat of a downward turn. I’ve been growing increasingly anxious as darkness set in, and this anxiety has led me to binge eat.
Binge eating is an old foe of mine. I did it occasionally before coming to this place. I off course feel disguising afterwards and in an attempt to control this disgust; I have purged. Now let’s be clear, I do not have an eating disorder. I know the long term implications of such behaviours, but in that moment of disgust, it’s hard to think clearly. Is it better than burning?; I don’t know.
I can’t bare to look at myself in the mirror these days. I did go to the gym earlier but the 30 minutes or so that I’m granted will do little to combat the medication induced weight gain.
This is a problem.