The Middle

Why is it that no one tells you how bad the middle really is?

How the pain and feelings you’ve buried for so long will begin to resurface with a vengeance that can be far too strong. 

How you’ll begin to feel happiness again, smiling and laughing with family and friends

Despite the near constant exhaustion of battling your inner demons.

 

Why is it that no one tells you how long the middle lasts?

How you trudge through the hours and minutes of each day contemplating whether you did the right thing.

How you’ll feel like you have come so far and feel like you might make it to the end

Only to start going back to your old behaviors, steering towards complete relapse.

 

Why is it that no one tells you how the middle changes you?

How you’ll be unsure of who you’ll become and what will be left when all is said and done.

How you’ll feel relieved when the person you were meant to be is cautiously allowed to be seen

Yet petrified that the person you’ve grown into cannot coexist.

 

Why is it that no one tells you how hard the middle is?

How uncomfortable and painful it is to battle your thoughts and behaviors relentlessly.

How you’ll begin to conquer your fears and break all your made up rules

Only to realize your mind has formulated dozens more.

 

Why is it that no one tells you how lonely the middle is?

How you’ll be surrounded by people trying to help and still feel like your just out of their reach.

How you can be in a room full of people who understand sharing your struggle with them

Yet feel like you’re still hopelessly alone.

 

Why is it that no one tells you how agonizing the middle is?

How your formerly corpse like body begins to show signs of life so you pretend to be as okay as your body now seems. 

How you’ll be able to tell some of your most shameful thoughts and tattle on yourself when you engage in behaviors

Even though you’re still in agony behind your no longer lifeless eyes.

 

Why is it that no one tells you how bad the middle is?

Confession:

I realized today that part of the reason I am so darn reluctant to give up my eating disorder is because there is a part of me that, deep down, just wants to die already.

 

I think I’m really done

Like done, done.

Done with treatment.

Done with depression.

Done with anxiety.

Done with perpetual constant self hate.

Done with thought of self harm and SI.

Done with feelings.

Done with meds.

Done being tired all the time.

Done with people.

Done with myself.

I’m Back.

Well, it’s been a LONG time. The last post I “posted” I wrote as I was sent up north to Wisconsin for residential treatment. Long story short:

I got there.

Went to get medically cleared.

Failed.

Was sent into an inpatient lock down 24/7 medical unit.

Eventually transferred to residential.

Lived there for 3 months.

Came home.

Left PHP because the treatment method sucked for me at the time.

Did outpatient treatment.

Started relapsing.

Went into IOP in a different treatment facility.

Decided to start blogging again.

 

And here we are 🙂

My first post back will be up in a bit.

Side note: Eating disorders still suck but I am a LOT better than I was when I went to Wisconsin. Also it wasn’t as catastrophically bad as I pictured it and I even miss my “family” up there.

 

Dear Mom, I’m Sorry.

Momma Bear,

I just need to put this out there just in case you never find out in person from me: I’m sorry. I’m sorry I turned into this girl, sorry I didn’t ask for help sooner, sorry I am destroying my body in an attempt to protect it, I’m sorry I didn’t confide in you, I’m sorry for it all. Please know that it wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do. I’m not really sure when this started but it was some time after they told me to figure out how to fix the chronic pain and nausea with “trial and error”. After a year of error and hospitals and pain I couldn’t do that anymore so I eliminated the error but it’s like when I did that, this other person took over, took me hostage, protected me and cursed me all at the same time except I didn’t realize how bad it was until recently. I didn’t realize who I had become or what I had turned into.

I couldn’t ask for help. I tried so many times and I just couldn’t. I never thought you would turn your back on me or hate me so please don’t think that. In fact, I have many times thought you suspected something but didn’t know or wanted to believe the best in me. You stood by my side when I got sick initially so it wasn’t that I thought you couldn’t handle it, it was all me. It was this other person inside my mind.

I know there are two outcomes to this letter: I told you about this blog or you found out about it after I died. I hope it’s the former but everyday I feel closer and closer to the latter. It’s why I am writing this, just in case the worst happens, just in case you find out after I’m gone. If that’s the case know that you are the best mom in the world I’ve never once wanted a different mom or thought you weren’t enough. You were both a mom and a dad, a friend and role model and I’m so sorry for what I am putting you through whether it is the first or second outcome.

I hope one day i can say I am recovered and stable. That I can eat what a normal person would call a meal, that I won’t purge everything I eat, that I don’t live in constant fear of being in excruciating pain again and that I also don’t fear getting fat or being judged for my food choices. I hope one day I am strong enough to find love, get married and give you some rockstar grandkids.

I am scared to death that I won’t survive this- the side effects have been really bad lately- but please know I am trying so hard to fight back and live and that I am so so so sorry. I hope one day you forgive me.

Love,

(Your favorite) Baby Bear

How This Tug of War Started

Honestly, I started this blog to document my journey and to hopefully encourage me to seek help for my struggle with food and eating. I am about 99% sure I can actually (by DSM-V criteria) be classified as having an eating disorder but I know I for sure have disordered eating at the very least.

I first started having trouble eating about 2 1/2 years ago when I developed a mysterious medical condition. The length of time it took to diagnose (?) – if you can call it that- led to a lot of weight loss, disordered eating and, according to my medical records, anorexia. And when I learned I was going to have to adapt my eating habits to prevent bad attacks, I developed an even worse fear of food than I already had by that point. Top that off with the fact that I didn’t- and still don’t- see the weight loss when I look at myself and you have pretty much got much a perfect recipe for an eating disorder.

About 4 months ago I really came to terms with this fact and I told the first person and, to date, the only person I personally know and who knows me about my eating problems.  I haven’t seen her in about 6 years but still, I feel a tremendous amount of support and encouragement from her despite the fact that I haven’t actually been able to move forward and seek help still 3 months after telling her I wanted to get help. I think it helps me knowing that I don’t have to face her everyday but that I still have her there to seek support from.  Although, I am sure she does- she is very involved in ED recovery and awareness- I hope she knows I a trying every day to muster the courage and ask for help.

See, that’s the thing about this disorder you are waging a constant battle. You vs. The voice in your head. The evil, mean, voice in your head that simultaneously feels like the only person you can trust. The best way I can explain this relationship is it’s like your mind is playing tug of war against the other part… and at least for now, losing.