Dreading this.

its here. I need to leave in 15 minutes.

I’m not dressed. Haven’t gotten my stuff together, haven’t brushed my hair or teeth (both of which are taking longer since I broke my hand Sunday), nothing.

I have cleaned my apartment. 😬

I know I have to get up and get dressed and do this but honestly, I can’t just yet. I’ve gotten 6 texts since I woke up from family/friends telling me how strong I am and that I can do this but honestly, they have no idea how incredibly weak I am. 

I put on a good front, and yeah perhaps I was once strong but right now, I am weak, terrified, isolated and vulnerable. And I’ve said countless times how I HATE feeling vulnerable. I am sure this therapist will have something to say about that 😏

I seriously wish I could just go to my regular doctor, have them mediate this transition. At least I have become somewhat comfortable with them knowing. These people are different. They see countless people fighting this and I am positive I am not nearly skinny, sick or deep into this to even get their help. They are going to think I am joking. 

Besides I am not keen on losing all independence. Like I get you need to keep an eye on me but I am still an adult.

And I am not keen on eating. What if they don’t take into account my GI issues and what if they start up again? What if the food is gross? How will they really know how much I need? How can I trust them?

The answer: I CAN’T.

I feel like I would like this better easing into it. Like if I had met them before and then come back to start today. Why do they not do this?!?! The reason going through my head is because they are horrid, it’s awful, torture and not safe at all to trust them. And that, is just making me guard myself more. 

And has me planning my escape route. No joke. 

I have 5 minutes. (10 if I am pushing it) 

I really don’t think I can do this. I seriously wish I would’ve been able to talk to my dr this morning, she would’ve made me feel better about this and quieted the run away aspect that’s consuming me. 

I’ve got to decide to go. I have to. I’m just not sure how to do that. 

I Can’t Do This

I can’t. The treatment center called. I asked the question I shouldn’t have asked “what’s it like?” And holy heck I am crying under a desk right now. I can’t. I don’t want to go. I can’t do it. I’m so sick thinking about just going near there and I can’t function. Top it off with I have to get re-medically cleared which just means more scales more doctors more telling people, more trusting people and I just can’t. It’s too much. I am too overwhelmed.

My mom says “I know it’s scary” and all I want is to scream NO YOU EFFING DON’T KNOW. It’s not scary it’s so damn terrifying that the prospect of slowly killing myself my starving to death seems like the obvious and clear right choice. You don’t know how that feels or to feel so out of control that the fear has you curled up under a desk, crying. 
I can’t do this. Telling was the wrong decision. It was bad and now this is my punishment. I can’t go. I HAVE to find a way out. OMGosh what have I gotten myself into.

Insurance Sucks…Sometimes

AND THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE TIMES!!!! (*knock on wood*)

I just found out my insurance will cover my Partial Hospitalization Treatment in full. That’s right IN FRICKIN FULL. 100%.

I am crying. 

Thank you God. I have hope again. 

At A Loss

I just don’t have words anymore.

I feel empty. Pure emptiness.

I don’t want to be with people; I don’t want to be alone.

I’m not happy; I’m not sad.

I don’t want to be awake; I don’t want to lay in bed.

I’m not lonely; I’m not overwhelmed.

I want to cry; I don’t want to cry.

I want to confide in someone; I don’t want to confide in someone.

I want to live; I don’t want to live.

I don’t feel anything.

original

I just don’t know what to do. I have to go see my doctor on Tuesday but I feel like I shouldn’t say anything because I don’t want to be a burden and I already have enough issues for them to worry about. I don’t even know what’s causing it, I mean life has just become so unraveled since I spoke up about my eating disorder. I have had to officially give up my marathons and completely stop running, drop my fall semester classes because PHP will prevent me from going to classes and the doctors said to medically withdraw from the term, I have had to tell people, i had to stop going to the gym. dealt with the stress of getting into a treatment program, go to the doctor weekly, start new medications and deal with the stupid side effects.

It’s a lot.

Maybe I am just over stressed. Maybe it’s the new medicine that is making me feel like this. Maybe it’s just in my head. Maybe it’s anything. Maybe it’s nothing.

I’ve just never felt like this before. Ever. Not even when I was alone in my struggle with this eating disorder but now I can’t get rid of the emptiness and I don’t know what to do to make it stop.

The one thing I do know: I am losing myself. I am barely inside anymore. I am just a shell of who I used to be but the fire inside me, my soul, my self is smaller and farther away than ever; and I’m not sure I can get it back.

The Waiting Room

UntitledAs the sliding door opens the cool air hits me causing me to shiver and get goosebumps from the stark contrast between the heat outside and the temperature inside. Actually, I’m not sure if the goosebumps are from the temperature or what I am about to do. I hesitate as I cross the threshold into the building and stare at the wall, at the names on the directory sign. I know where I am and where I am going but it allows me a few more moments. I head down the corridor to the second set of doors and walk through.

The aroma is familiar and fragrant, disinfectant and antibacterial soap. I hear my flip flops shuffle across the floor, past the chairs to my left to the closed glass window on the opposing wall. Nausea strikes my body causing me to grab my stomach out of instinct, even though I know it won’t help. I stare at the clipboard. In my peripheral view the receptionist is on the phone. Good. I don’t want to make conversation, I think. I pick up the pen, adjusting it in my hand and rolling it back and forth mindlessly until I see her looking at me. Slowly I begin to write my name on the next blank space. It doesn’t feel like me doing this, it feels like I am in a foreign body, like a robot just able to complete this task out of habit. I glance at the window, the receptionist is typing as she talks on the same call; It feels like she has been on that call forever but I know it’s just me feeling like time is stationary.

I turn and face the rest of the room instinctively looking at the doorway I just passed through, the one that leads to freedom and safety. Run, don’t do this, pierces through my mind instantly hollowing out the sound of the music playing overhead and the whispers from the few other people in the room. I stop in my tracks and stare for a second consumed by nausea from the whole situation. Fearing I am not able to take another step, I sit.

Nothing seems to be moving. I can feel and hear my heart pounding, the nausea is as strong as waves crashing on the shore during a hurricane. It’s hard, brutal and relentless. Leave NOW, is all I can think but I am frozen, frozen with fear. I hear a door open behind me and I can feel myself getting faint, the blood coursing through my body faster than if a snake had crossed my path during a trail run. I hear the nurse say something but my fear has overtaken me and I can’t comprehend anything. I see someone stand up on the other side of the room. Phew. Not me. I breathe for the first time in what feels like minutes and try and calm myself.

My head is all consumed in whether I should stay or leave before this goes any further. However, I continue to sit there, unable to move, unable to think for myself, unable to feel anything other than fear. The door opens again. My anxiety shoots back up past where it was before. There are less people ahead of me now, it’s time to make the decision. I hear another nurse utter more inaudible sounds but I can’t hear anything over the voices in my own head screaming for me to leave, to run straight out of here back down the corridor and outside to safety.

The nurse repeats the same inaudible message, I still don’t hear anything other than garbled syllables. I stand and begin to walk.

I walk briskly, with purpose and more confident than I am certainly feeling. I walk past the other chairs, the other patients and walk past the gentleman the nurse is acknowledging before she begins to escort him to an exam room. I walk straight to the door, only hesitating for a second as it automatically opens, and then down the coordinator. I never look back.

I feel relief as I cross the final threshold of the building and into the safety and security of the outside world, hiding away the secrets of my life. The last thing I think before everything goes black is, Maybe that’s not relief but actually regret. Then, darkness.

***

I open my eyes. I see the curtains and bedsheets. I look at my clock, 5:23am. It was just a dream.

Running Thoughts

The click of the lock, that’s where it begins. The rest of the world is slightly deafened by my headphones as I walk down the three flights of stairs fidgeting with my app and figuring out what playlist I am … Continue reading

One Week…

I am going to get help in one week but not if my ED has anything to “say” about it.

Trigger Warning for anyone with disordered eating or an eating disorder.

It’s almost worse now that I have an appointment at the doctor, kind of like now that I anticipate coming clean and opening Pandora’s Box that the part of me controlled by this thing is louder, meaner and harder to ignore than ever. The thoughts I have when I eat are telling me that I am going to get fatter, if I gain any weight between the last time I was there and this time that I am a failure, not going to be believed and have to come up with a back up lie or go with the safe route: cancel the appointment.

I have been trying SO HARD though to eat more. I have some decent mileage on the schedule this week and ran 9 on Tuesday so I have been hungrier than usual but it’s such a challenge. If I even go over my preset limits 200/500 (200 on days I run anything less than 8 miles, 500 on days I run greater than 8 miles) I will start to eliminate the extra food via purging. It’s not even hard to do anymore too, I just contract my muscles and it’s back. That also makes my ED mind scream it’s normal and not harming me and while I know it’s harming me, the normal part is hard not to believe because part of me kind of thinks everyone vomits their food sometimes.

I’m also not convinced that 500 calories a day (which is so hard to admit I eat that much) is too few. Sometimes, yeah, I feel run down but I am busy, a runner and have a lot going on. People get run down and 500 calories a day is a LOT of food, 200 I know is a bit low but 300 just feels like too much especially because I eat 500 some days and it averages to 300 in the end.

See, and yet I read what I just wrote and part of me feels like it is wrong that 500 calories is too few especially when I am running and 200 is unfathomable for most people. But yet, the feelings that I am okay still prevail and I am not sure what will happen next Thursday. I am not sure how to keep overcoming them because even when I “win” and eat a tad more, I feel infinitely more unjustified in asking for help  because I don’t think I have a problem because I ate a bit more. Even when I purge that, I am so convinced purging is normal that I feel stupid thinking I have an issue.

I’m not sure. There is no real point of this post other than to try and organize my thoughts,try to convince myself to keep fighting to get to that appointment next week and to not cancel or lie. I’m not sure what will happen. 1 week from now seems so far and so sickeningly close.

Maybe I should just cancel.

The Words I Can’t Say

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