Eating Disorder Confessions

Since I came to the realization that this was more than just protective eating against myself I have been trying to find the courage to recover. A big part of that has been not feeling alone by following a blog on Tumblr, Eating Disorder Confession (http://eatingdisorderconfession.tumblr.com). This is blog made for confessions for those suffering from any kind of eating issue- It is NOT Pro-Eating Disorder and only serves as a support system for those trying to seek help and recovery. As I have come to grips with the fact that I am facing a monster I can’t handle alone I have submitted a multitude of confessions. Whether this helps you recover or not I guess remains to be seen but I think, for me, it has helped me feel less alone, more inspired to recover and okay to feel not okay.

So here are some of the confessions that were mine. Whether they represent a good or bad day.

Every year on New Years I make a wish. This year I wished that I find the courage to seek help and to overcome this beast. I wished the same for all of you too.

Yesterday, I told someone. Today, I am simultaneously happy that she has been so supportive and petrified to have to do that again but with the doctor this time. I’m not sure I can do it. I hope she doesn’t give up on me.

All I want to do is tell right now. I want to tell. I hate this life. I hate battling the stomach pain, the guilt, the lightheadedness when I stand up, the bloody noses when I purge, the fear, the anxiety, the weak body, constantly being sick, destroying my metabolism, all of it. This is my accountability post. The post I’ll look at when my ED starts to convince me to stay silent and use it to instead go against it and tell. I want to be done, feel safe, have someone to turn to and mostly, live.

Sitting on Main Street at Disney World. This is only the happiest place on earth if you don’t have an eating disorder. Right now it is the most miserable, food obsessed, triggering place on Earth.

When my friends say they don’t eat or they didn’t eat it makes me feel disgusted of myself if I ate that day.

Today I tried to do better. I tried to eat something I don’t see as “safe”. After I ate it I didn’t feel hate, remorse or sick. I felt… normal. Once I realized that it was like my sick mind turned on and then convinced me those positive thoughts weren’t really true so I went a purged all of it… I was so close to succeeding with just one food, just one time and I couldn’t even do that. This thing has a death grip on me.

I am to the point where I cry at the grocery store.

It’s been so long since I consumed a “healthy” number of calories that when I read how much I should eat or others tell me what that number should be, I am convinced they are lying.

Somebody please save me.

I’ve only told one person about my struggle eating. Today, I most needed her to reach out and she did. I may not be able/prepared to ask for help yet but I hope she knows her support continually shows me there will be people there for me no matter how long it takes, how terrible I feel that day, how awful I’ve been doing with eating/body image/etc. And that knowledge is what keeps saving me when I’m in the darkest moments of this thing.

I just wish I could go back to before the ED happened, maybe then I could’ve reached out before it got to this point.

I’ve lost a lot of weight, but I look down at myself and think I’m the same size.

I’m scared to be labelled mentally ill.

I’m afraid this is how I will die. Purging. Starving. Sad.

Right now, I really just need a hug and for someone to understand what I am going through because everything just feels so hopeless.

I just don’t understand how everyone else can eat and not have it be this big ordeal. I honestly just don’t anymore.

Leaving to go to the gym. I really don’t want to go today but I ate cauliflower today instead of doing a another day of fasting and now I have to burn off all the calories I consumed. I know this is crazy, it barely has calories but I can FEEL it making me fatter.

To anyone thinking the side effects aren’t that bad: my nose bleeds at least once a day, I don’t even have to purge it just happens, my legs are numb every time I sit. I grasp the wall to keep from falling when I stand, I can feel how weak my heart is because it flutters too, I am cold always, I wake up with headaches every single day, my chest hurts when I run, I have to nap at work, I avoid family and friends and all of this happens even though I am a normal weight. Don’t be me. This sucks.

I don’t see how bad my eating is until I come on here and read all the confessions and think “I do that too.”

I’m a prisoner in my own body.

I constantly want to ask others what size they are because I have no idea what I really look like and I keep hoping maybe one day I’ll see someone who is the same size and realize I’m not as fat as I think I am.

It’s gotten to the point where I purge my only safe food.

So yeah, my confessions (some of them). 6 months of my life in review and you know what I just realized? None of them make me want to go back to that day and relive it. Those days were wasted on this monster. Wasted. I have always said I want to live my life with no regrets and here I am fully realizing I regret these days. I mean i knew at the time I regretted them too but now it’s so… black and white. Definitive. Real.

Questions About Recovery….

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

Thoughts Running Wild

Well, the good news is I AM OUT OF THE CAST!!!!!

The bad news, I need surgery to remove my sesamoid bone but the podiatrist said if I can handle the pain we can wait for some of my marathons to be over.

The worse news, my eating disorder is stealing running from me.

(Trigger Warning)

I went for my first run today post-cast. It sucked. I did 2 miles total and needed to stop and felt as if I was dying during it. Logically, I get it. I ate 155 calories today before I ran, none of it had carbs in it, none of it had protein, none of it had fat. I had steamed cauliflower, 3 baby carrots, 2 sugar free mints. I know that is not conducive to life much less running but I can’t stop it, I only ate the baby carrots because I knew I was in rough shape going into the run but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t eat the carbs. Hell, I don’t even have carbs in the house.

I’m so weak. I’ve not consumed over 250 calories a day for over a week now. It’s killing me. The chest pain comes and goes, the black outs when I stand up too quick, the mental struggle, all of it is just killing me. I feel like my running is the only thing I have keeping me trying to eat and now, now I am losing the very thing I cherish and love.

Maybe needing surgery will be a blessing. Doc says no running for at least 6-8 weeks and he would prefer 10-12. I still want to do my marathons though. I am set on Chicago and Marine Corps because both have special meaning to me but now after today’s run I feel like ED is going to stand in my way more than my need for surgery. I’m torn. I know that is hard for anyone to understand who hasn’t been through this but I am torn between something i love and something i am obligated to.

The easy answer: “just eat”. Please don’t say that, it’s not that simple. If I could “just eat” trust me I would. I promised myself, after I realized my fears had warped into this, that i would never be one of those girls who let themselves suffer for years and that I wouldn’t let this thing destroy my relationships and life but yet, here I am dodging my friends, losing my ability to do the things I love, secluding myself, living a secret, living a lie, slowly killing myself each day, week, month and year.

Yesterday before I saw the podiatrist I got blood work done for my autoimmune condition which means I will be getting a call from my primary doctor in a few days to discuss the results. I secretly hope they’ll somehow figure out I’m sick based on the blood work but I know that they didn’t do the blood tests necessary to discover the horrors I’ve put my body through. I know I could also just say I need help on the phone and they’d make an appointment ASAP, but I also know, in my heart, I’m not ready for that yet.

Although, I keep thinking July 2 is a good date to maybe try to get help. It’s the day before I have off work for the holiday which means if I do tell, I can at least have the day off the next day to collect my thoughts and not have to face my co-workers and pretend like everything is still okay when I know in my mind it’ll feel like the world is crashing down around me- assuming they believe me. It’s also early enough that I could help and have folks help me through training, I hope. But then again, what if they steal marathons from me? That’s my biggest fear, honestly, that tops dying (again, I know it makes no sense unless you’ve handled this disease). So maybe July 2. Maybe.

Until then, I have to make it through one of my best friends’ wedding, bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner and bridesmaid luncheon, a day of shadowing and somehow figure out how to not have a panic attack because of all the unsafe food, stress making it look like I ate, purging all the unsafe food that I may eat and people around. And I somehow need to figure out how to acclimate my body to running in this state again.

Because above all else, I can’t lose running. It’s been there for me longer than my ED has. It keeps me moving forward (in more ways than one). I can’t lose it. It’s the only piece left of me that I still control. It’s all I have left.