When you get out of hospital, there’s a bit of an adrenaline rush I think. I was doing all the right things, washing, bathing, dressing, eating, caring for and playing with Little man, contributing to the house, giving OH some much needed breaks and returning to work.
Professionals would comment on how far I’ve come, how well I’m doing etc. People would ask how I feel: “I’m great”. Over the weeks my reply wouldn’t change but in reality I was good, then o.k, then less than o.k, exhausted, burnt out, depressed, miserable…………..suicidal.
The world feels overwhelming again, my anxiety is rising, my self worth plummeting. I’m drowning here.
I’m crying a lot. Everything is upsetting me and I can feel my bouts of rage returning. I’ve been tapering off my meds. I’m afraid they’ll harm bump, but I’m now starting to worry that I might harm bump and me…..I’m very low tonight.
On a positive note though, I’m also laughing again. I’d kind off lost that ability over the past few years. Mood stabilisers don’t just dull the lows, they also rob you off joy. I used to be a proper belly laugher, finding comedies and comedians hilarious, but the drugs slowly robbed me of that. So even though the lows are coming back, so are the belly laughs.
My site was down and I had no idea. I was wondering why I’d been having no views. Was just about to quit writing, but it’s now sorted.
I don’t really blog for others, it’s a personal mental space for me to express my thoughts safely and anonymously. But not having readers, felt disappointing. I don’t know why. I guess you lot are my sounding board and it only works if I feel I’m being heard. It doesn’t matter who, just someone.
So now fixed, I shall continue.
Biggest thought today, is that I need to increase my Saxenda dose. I’ve started walking, but it’s not enough. I’m fat and need to fix it.
I’m also in a constant state of really wanting to end my life. But I don’t want to hurt anybody. When I’m out walking, I think go on Loopy, jump in front off a car. At least that might look like an accident. When I get home again, I think off the driver, the potential impact that could have, but if my family thought I died from an accident, would it be any easier on them?
Jumping in front off cars is no easy feat, I bottle it every time. Drug overdoses are easier, but not guaranteed. Hanging is really affective, but again I bottle it. Does that mean I don’t want to die? What the hell does all this mean?
1. Lose weight. I’m going to do it as soon as I can. I’ve bought more Orlistat, I’m desperately trying to get my hands on saxenda, and today I went back on my bike. I feel grotesque, a beached whale, a fat ugly rolley polley.
My first attempt at getting Saxenda failed. Stupid Loopy, you’re fake BMI was too low. Rookie error. My 2nd attempt- well I’m still waiting on the outcome. Fingers crossed. It’s funny, when I was doing my PhD I used to joke that we should all be taking GLP-1 agonists, which is what Saxenda is. They make you feel fuller, delay gastric emptying and have been shown to aid weight loss. Typically used to treat diabetes but now also approved for weight loss in morbidly obese individuals.
Next resolution. Self harm more. Yup I know how ridiculous that sounds. I should be trying the opposite, but /I’m stressed and it calms me. I have this mad craving to use a clothes iron. I’ve been fighting the urge for weeks now, sticking with the straighteners, but I don’t think I’ll be able to relax if I don’t try it. I can’t make sense of these urges at the minute, but they’re showing no signs of easing.
Next one- no hospital admissions in 2021. This past few years I’ve been in and out of psychiatric wards, and to be honest, at the moment I wish I was back in. That’s usually a sign that 1. I don’t actually need to be in, and 2. A sign that my stress and feelings of being overwhelmed are growing. But stay out this year Loopy. You need to stay out.
Last one for now- try to talk more with your key worker. Seek out more counselling and oh this is a big one- share your food struggles with OH.
I know for many that this year has been really tough. I know that loneliness and isolation have taken there toll.
I’m thankful though, for Covid Not for the illness or for lives tragically lost . I’m thankful for the opportunities it gave me. I’m thankful for my extra time with little man. Time that strengthened our relationship and bond. Time that built my confidence with him.
I’m thankful for the working from home. It enabled me to cope, to function just enough to fulfill my role. No commuting pressure, shorter days, and the ability to just hide away.
As I ring in 2021, I’m lying here with my little man beside me. I love him, and he loves me.
Don’t be scared off 2021 loopy, just be thankful.
Happy new year everybody. Stay safe and if you can, just for a moment, be thankful.
I scoffed, I puked and I wept. Scoffed some more, puked some more and wept some more.
Tonight my arm is scorched white. I want to use an iron, a clothes iron, but I’ve resisted. Hair straighteners brought that wonderful sense of calm. The pain is so intense, that the calm feels all that sweeter.
I’m disgusting, I’m ugly and I stink. Literally stink. Bathing has felt all too much lately.
I want to buy Liraglutide. The Orlistat simply isn’t cutting the mustard.
I blog during the intervals. But first I ran down stairs for some comfort food. I need it!!
The drawing above is an iceberg we were asked to sketch down. They’re a big fan of journaling. Below the surface are my instant thoughts about what might have led to my disordered eating. Note I’m a comfort eater.
It’s a bit scrawled so I’ll type them here.
1. I feel ugly.
2. Someone died because off me.
3. Mum wanted “normal” children.
4 . Thin is good, fat is bad.
5. I’m a terrible mum.
6. Fat albinos look worse than thin ones.
7. When I purge more, I burn less (oh that ones caught me off guard!, dunno where that came from.)
8. Thinner feels better.
I’m exhausted, it feels very raw and it’s bedtime now. Oh I’d love some zopiclone!! Or a burn, or a purge or all of these things. I think I have a sneaky box off Z’s somewhere.
On a final note, and this might offend some, which is not my intent, but they’ve been pushing “faith’ again this week. It spurts from their mouths sporadically, and everyone except me seems to be receptive to it. It’s making me feel like the “black sheep”
We were asked to think off someone we’d love to meet or go on a walk with. My head was screaming; the founder of the theory of evolution. But his name escaped me. Off course; Charles Darwin!! You know this Loopy, but it’s probably best that you forgot. I said nothing…….
I’m back at the eating disorder course this week. Posting now at the interval.
We just watched a video of someone’s story. I felt really bad for the girl but then she talked about hearing Jesus and finding faith. It has turned me right off the course. I don’t mean to offend anyone, and if that’s truely her story fine, but why oh why do all these courses bring up *faith* in some guise or another.
She did finish with 3 top tips.
1. Have a friend. A friend with full honesty. Someone you can talk too.
2. Fill life with other things.
3. Learn to look after yourself. Be kind to yourself.
These are good tips in fairness. On point 1 I’ve failed. Far far too ashamed to share this wi;th anyone remotely close. On point 2 I’m not great either. When I bring in other things it’s gets obsessive and often detrimental. 3, oh how many times in community and hospital settings have I heard those words. I wish it were so simple.
Now feeling awkward and uneasy I’m scoffing down a caramel tartlet. How can I write off these calories?