I wish the physical pain from not eating wasn’t worse than the mental pain from eating.
Ever wonder what goes through someone’s mind when contemplating recovery? In addition to the “voice” in my head screaming at me that even thinking about recovery is bad, not okay and that I don’t have a problem and telling someone … Continue reading
I don’t know how she found out but I know she knows. Today she asked me if I was eating and “are you making yourself throw up after”. I replied yes and no to each question respectively- which technically is … Continue reading
Passing Out- 1 : Me- 0
Last week I mentioned in a post about how I am doing shadowing for school in a local hospital. Well, today I went back for a half day and I was super excited about it because I am really interested in the field and finally being in that setting and learning in the field is amazing. So today I went, as usual, without eating anything and we got to the first patient after I had been there about an hour and all of a sudden my heart started racing. It wasn’t nerves but it was just racing, then I got more nauseated than normal, then my hearing went out and I don’t remember anything else until I heard one of the ladies I was shadowing say “are you okay” and grabbing me and I’ll I could do was say “pass out” and collapse. Luckily, patient rooms have chairs and they were able to get me into it before I totally dropped.
Coming up with an answer to the “did you eat today” question came with too much ease and felt way to normal. Me? Eat? at 9:30 in the morning. Heck no. I eat at 1:30 and 7:30. All of these went through my mind but “yeah I think I just worked out too hard and didn’t get enough to eat after” were the real words that left my mouth. Then I had to eat. Again, thankfully I was in the hospital where food is plentiful even if none of it is safe. I had apple juice and graham crackers (as safe as unsafe gets) and prayed I wouldn’t pass out again although I felt woozy the rest of the morning.
The lady who I shadowed was so kind and I think she thought it was because of the patient and seeing them sick so I let her believe that because, well, it was a safer cover than anything I could come up with. And they were super nice about it and told me stories of when they passed out and have seen others passing out so it was really not nearly as traumatizing as it could have been and they said as long as I felt up to it I could keep shadowing the rest of the morning (I only scheduled a half day today) so I stayed.
But here’s the thing: I passed out. I passed the heck out. THAT IS NOT NORMAL. And worse, that is not something I can prevent from happening if I keep this up which means my dreams are going to be shattered. I can’t go into the field I want if I am not able to help care for people because I am malnourished, starving my body, deteriorating away and too weak to function. When I was in the process of passing out it was almost like dying. One thing at a time started shutting down sense by sense. First, my legs got tingly, then my hearing went out, then my balance, then my eyesight, and then my ability to communicate. It was like my body was dying even though I was still living. I guess that’s kind of what it really is, you pass out when your body sort of needs to “reset” because it cant’ handle what is going on. And, even though it is by no means the first time I have passed out, it was the first time it happened in front of others and there was something different about this time. It was like I knew I was going to pass out and I knew this was going to be a major shutdown not just one of those times I force myself to collapse out of caution because I feel like I am going to pass out. It was like seeing what was going to keep happening if I do this much longer.
I need help. Soon. Very soon. The instances of people almost finding out or my body experiencing the scariest side effects ever has been increasing exponentially the last few weeks. And now, I am beginning to to fear how capable I am at destroying my own body.
That’s what my mom said when I went home yesterday. “You look like one of those girls I see on Dr. Phil who have anorexia” was her exact statement.
To be honest, I felt complimented by it (I know that’s terrible) and I also had an overwhelming belief that my mom was exaggerating and lying to me and I wanted to say something but I didn’t. And yet, I wasn’t upset at all by the comment my mom made. It was the comment my sister made that made me feel bad.
My sister said, “you don’t look like a runner, you look scrawny.”
You don’t look like a runner.
Those words resonated with me all night and all day today. I keep thinking about them over and over and over again. I am a runner, that’s who I am. But am I really so far gone that I can’t see what this has done to me? Am I really that bad?
I keep telling myself of course not, I mean I am not even skinny! But my family has actively said the words anorexic when describing my appearance a lot since my “goal” weight was met (I use quotes because it was only my goal weight until I reached it and now it is replaced by a new, lower goal). I genuinely don’t see it though and I know that sounds crazy but when I look in the mirror I see the same body as before this whole thing started, and even before I lost weight initially when I was sick. I just don’t see it. But it doesn’t matter because until I can speak up and open that can of worms, I can’t get help.
It does make me wonder though about if I am just getting too sick, if I am getting lazier with hiding it or if I am just that skinny that it is worrisome. My mom seems to think so. I know her saying that was her way of asking the million dollar question. I think it’s because she, like a lot of folks, doesn’t want to believe that she knows someone with an eating disorder and, honestly, I think she probably doesn’t know how to help- which is ironic because I am in the same boat. Anyway, I’m not sure what will happen. I doubt anyone is going to broach the subject enough to get me to open up until I am ready but in a weird way, I am relieved that they see something I don’t it kind of makes me think the doctor might take me seriously and maybe that they’ll understand when I finally do reveal the truth about what’s going on. I don’t know. All I know is I shouldn’t like being called Anorexic or compared to an anorexic and yet it was the running statement that screwed with me more. I wish I had my own mind back.
Last week I posted about having a doctor’s appointment and possibly confessing to my ED. It’s a terrifying prospect to be faced with because on one hand I am screaming for help and on the other the “your not thin enough” voice is booming through an imaginary megaphone. The “you ate too much yesterday” “didn’t work out hard enough to burn the calories” and “you’ll be better if you can just lose more weight” voices feel as though they are being shouted by a stadium full of screaming fans.
Except this ED Is not my friend. It’s.Not. My. Friend. I have to keep reminding myself of that because honestly it feels like it is. And so, even though I was sitting there in the exam room of the doctors office I was still unable to let go. I knew as soon as I parked it wasn’t going to happen. I sat there, in the parking lot, staring at the front door knowing on the other side lay the help I needed to get to freedom and yet I ignored the small voice saying “please help”. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out the rest of the “you’re not skinny enough” voices. Not even after I dropped below my goal weight.
That’s right, i made it to my goal weight. (trigger warning) Actually I am 3 pounds under my goal weight but still even though I promised myself i would ask for help once I reached my goal weight here I am, lying in bed after a day of restricting and taking diuretics just to make sure all the weight was off before I was forced on the scale. I am terrified of the scale. I used to be obsessed with it but one time I gained and I quite actually came so close to killing myself that I scared myself out of it. I am talking had everything in the bathroom, planned it out, was prepping and realized that someone would have to explain what happened to my adorable 3 year old (at the time) niece and nephew. It was that thought that stopped me cold. I threw the scale out and developed an immense fear of ever getting on it again. Going to the doctor is wrought with anxiety for that reason solely.
But I made it to my goal weight on a day that may have presented itself to me to get help. That’s ironic. I was also supposed to be excited about being at my goal weight (and I am absurdly happy) but at the same time I feel… ashamed(?). I’m not sure that’s what it is but I just feel like I let myself down because it’s both not lower and because I told myself I wouldn’t go below my goal weight without asking for help and I know that’s not going to be true anymore.
Part of me thinks the reason I couldn’t ask for help today is because I had to exceed my calorie limit this weekend. One of my best friends got married and I was doing wedding activities all day Friday and Saturday which meant every meal was not my same food, not on my schedule, not alone, not safe, and not able to escape. I covered up most of my not eating though by just moving food, eating only the vegetables, talking a lot, etc. At the wedding reception though, I purged in the bathroom more than a few times because I ate after almost passing out in the church’s bathroom and I didn’t want to ruin my friend’s big day but the food I ate was unsafe so it had to come out. But after eating something that’s unsafe I feel unjustified to go asking for help because I let myself actually consume that food despite how much I hated myself during and after.
Yesterday I also had a close encounter. I am in school and was shadowing at a hospital and was so sick from not eating Sunday or Monday that I nearly threw up and collapsed during shadowing. Luckily, the person I was shadowing didn’t notice but when I had lunch with some of the other people in the department one of the ladies asked me as we left if I had actually eaten anything. (trigger warning) I had had 5 baby carrots and an apple, both of which are not entirely safe but my safe food wasn’t feasible. I tried to extend it out but I just lied and said I was going to dinner early and had had a large breakfast after my workout (the workout part wasn’t a lie but the eating comment was). I do, however, find it highly ironic that someone I have known for 3 hours can spot that I haven’t eaten and people I spend day in and out with, haven’t. I also find it terrifying, am I getting worse at hiding it? sicker? was it a fluke?
Anyway, I didn’t get help. I didn’t freeze up I just didn’t feel like I needed help. The doctor even asked me if there was anything else or if I wanted to discuss something else. I said no as if it was second nature but I could feel a part of me screaming yes. As soon as I got 5 minutes down the road, though, I regretted it. Not enough to turn around, go back inside and say anything though. Not enough to cut the strings making me into a puppet for this ED.
I guess all I can do is my best. I tried. Now I have a new goal weight (it always gets lower) but I also know that the doctor is in the same building and hopefully soon that room will hear the words that I’ve been keeping secret. I am still thinking about July 2 but honestly, I’m not sure any more because I am pretty sure i am going to have another day when I can’t stand this, call the doctor and do it right then and there while I am stronger than the ED because otherwise it just has too much time to talk me out of it.
(This is mostly just for me but anyone is free to read- obvi. Just don’t judge the pace, I’m not the fastest) **Trigger Warning for anyone who has/had an eating disorder or disordered eating ** 1st real run post-cast. Total … Continue reading
I know this is a normal occurrence for most people who go to the doctor and have blood tests but I get routine blood work done for an autoimmune issue and my doctor almost always calls me themselves and has that conversation over the phone so when I got the phone call today it instantly put me on guard. I’ve also got an insane fear that the doctor somehow figured something is wrong based on my tests and knows about my problems. I know I’ve said before I hope they figure it out but it’s kind of one of those things I both want and don’t want in all the same ways.
Having the doctor call and tell me I need an appointment takes so much stress off the situation,they want to see me which means I am not going into the situation with anyone expecting me to confess my health issues but it still allows me a forum to do so.
Sometimes in this life, only one or two opportunities are put before us, and we must seize them, no matter the risk.
The risk is huge. I’m asking myself to betray my ED which at this point feels like I am sentencing myself to death and like an insurmountable task. I know going into this once I let my confession pass the safety of my lips I won’t be able to go back, won’t be able to take back what I said and that my life will only get more complicated. In theory it should help it get better, I’m still not sure though but maybe I should listen, seize the opportunity, take the risk.
I know it can never feel like the right time to get rid of an eating disorder (hence why I have battled the decision for over 6 months and the disease longer) but maybe this is it, my chance. I want to believe so bad that it is but I’m not sure what to trust or believe any more.
Eating Disorder. I think I have an eating disorder. I’m scared I may have an eating disorder. Please God help I think I have an eating disorder. I can write eating disorder over and over again or say it in … Continue reading
I’m fine, I’m just tired and I’m okay are my three most common responses. I wish someone would catch on.