Crying for Help

I need help.

I need help.

I need help.

I can’t do this much longer. I don’t want to. I want out. I want OUT. I want HIM out of my head, I want to stop thinking about food all the time, stop being hungry, stop vomiting everything I eat, stop chewing and spitting, stop the cravings, stop the side effects. I want to STOP IT ALL.

I’ve been pacing through my kitchen and living room contemplating going home. Home to my mom’s to ask for help, to spill my guts, and pray to God someone takes this serious and knows what to do and how to get help.

But as I type this, the voice is coming back. The one telling me to keep quiet, that this is normal, that I NEED this and not food. I feel trapped. I feel so trapped.

I wish I could go for a run but I can’t because this damn aircast is stuck on me for at least 2 more weeks. I wish I could burn all the calories off my body, shrink and disappear. I hate this.

I hate this.

I hate this person I am trapped inside of.

I wish someone understood.

I wish someone knew.

Every Mile is Magnificent

Well, A while ago I posted about entering the lottery for the Chicago Marathon. And the results came out… I’m in. Now, I’m a bit delayed in stating that because well, it was announced last week and while I spent the whole day at work on lottery results day hitting F5 on my computer in anticipation and then actually ran down the hall to tell a friend when the screen finally changed green at 3:14, I still feel a sense of dread associated with it.

Don’t get me wrong, I am beyond excited to go (I even already booked my flight and hotel- which is much more than I usually do for trips 5 months away) but I think my excitement is dulled by fear.

Fear of what? For starters:

1. Last year this race was MY race. I ran flawlessly, made my time goal, felt tremendous afterward, walked around the city the next day, felt so good 2 days later I went for a run, never hit the wall, took in the whole experience and enjoyed the whole thing. So why am I scared? That’s a LOT to live up to and I am a perfectionist.

2. My mom is coming- SOOOOOOOOO Excited because she didn’t get to come last year and this will be the first marathon she sees me run! But, my mom is coming. My mom. My mom who worries about what I do/don’t eat. My mom who doesn’t know about how badly I struggle with food. My mom who will be with me in the hotel, the day before and after and will realize how little I do eat and will comment. My mom, who if I end up getting help for this eating disorder before the race, may or may not be the help I need before the race.

3. Temptation. Chicago has a reputation for good food. I can vouch for it. When I am there I would love to taste a bit of it and enjoy it but it’s so laced with dread, hate and fear that when I am forced to eat, I throw it up and that comes with it a whole other set of fears (what if someone hears? what if I can’t get to the bathroom after the meal? what if I can’t purge it all? what if someone sees me eat? what if they think I am eating too much? what if they comment? what if I get sick? what if I get fatter?).

4. The boot. That’s right, I am in an air cast. I have a “traumatized shattered sesamoid bone” according to my podiatrist (or some combo of those words) and we have been trying everything conservatively for the last 15 months but I still have horrendous bouts of sesamoiditis so I am currently in an air cast and the only thing that kept me from getting a full blown hard cast is that I promised him that I would only take it off when I (a) shower (b) sleep. It’s been 4 days and I am dying to go run. I miss it so much and as much as I hate to say this, I am scared to death of having extra calories in me. The good news is I have been wanting to train for a triathlon so I started swimming in the mornings and my trainer at the gym said I can still come to class (I go to OrangeTheory- look it up it is fabulous) and that we can modify it so I only bike (no standing and pedaling) and do upper body per doctors orders.

So here I am with both of my must do marathons this year. On my way to Marathon Maniac status and I still have so much dread. I know it’s 99.99% due to the eating disorder. My sister’s birthday was yesterday and the restaurant she chose to go to is on the COMPLETELY FRICKIN UNSAFE list and when I found out that’s where she was going, I refused to go. My mom called today because I “seemed off” yesterday. I wonder if she’ll connect the dots, probably not though. Sometimes when these things are right in front of you, you are the most blind to them. I should know I have been convinced I am getting better….in all honesty though, I think I am worse than ever. Hell, I flaked on my own sister. I am contemplating flaking on Mother’s Day tomorrow too.

Anyway, I still remember my goal from my Chicago Lottery post: I am going to try and eat one meal, just one while I am in Chicago.

 

But, I am really not sure I can do this. I am already anxious.

#MCM and #RunWithTheMarines

Signs You’re a Runner: For a while now I’ve been wondering why everyone is always posting pictures with #mcm. I know about Man Crush Monday but I guess it never occurred to me that, THAT acronym didn’t mean Marine Corps Marathon….until today.

This realization only came out because I’ve been stuck in MCM (Marine Corps Marathon) mode for months now, waiting for the lottery to open, entering the lottery and waiting 10 longgg days to get a result on the lottery. And today, was lottery result day!!!

It was like trying to get a 5 year old to wait to open presents on Christmas morning. As SOON as my alarm (the first one) went off I reached over to my phone to check my email- something I NEVER do. I hate email. I think it’s overrated, overused and a nuisance.  But, I broke my rule of refusing to check my email first thing in the morning because, well, it was like Christmas for those of us waiting to hear about the Marathon. Now, there was no guarantee I would hear at 5:17am but I had heard from others that emails start in the middle of the night and continue all day. After a very poor attempt at typing my email address in on my phone and falling asleep at least 2 times, the page loaded with one unread message….I got in to the Marine Corps Marathon!!!!!

My email came at 1:46am!!  I am surprised my neighbors didn’t think I was being murdered I screamed so loud! THE Marine Corps Marathon! The 40th anniversary, I will be there! YES! I’ve never been to DC either so I am looking forward to finally getting to go to DC, better weather, running and an awesome extended weekend vacation! Plus, I come from a family of military folks (from all branches) so I think this race will be a great way to honor them.

MCM I'm In

As I jumped on IG to post a photo and hashtag everything known to man I typed in #mcm and THAT’S when I realized: #MCM = Man Crush Monday (to normal people) not Marine Corps Marathon!! It was like not just the light bulb but the whole dang chandelier went off! So, I tagged with the other MCM tag: #RunWithTheMarines because, well, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing in October!!! And as I waited for a plethora of likes on FB and little hearts on IG I realized, no one is awake at 5:17am sharing stuff on social media, except those of us waiting for the MCM results.

I have had some time today to let the excitement calm a bit (but not by much because I am so unbelieveably excited) and as I went to type this I saw my last (not so happy) post. See, the thing is despite how excited I am about this one of the first things I thought after I screamed with happiness was “oh shit, I’m going to have to eat.” AND because my friends are coming to DC with me, I know I will have to eat, in front of people and it won’t be easy to hide if I don’t like it was in Chicago last year. This is especially hard because I have felt like I am failing at having an ED this week. See, failing at having an ED means I am not doing good enough at restricting and purging- that’s what failing is to me and to any “normal” non-ED person this would be success but for me, it’s failure. Sheer,  utter, failure. On top of that my GI issues are flared up this week because what I have eaten is stuff that is bad for whatever issues my stomach has and everything from the disoriented feeling, joint pain, muscle pain and  severe nausea is back so I feel like I am failing even more.

But, I am doing what I set out to do, run toward recovery. So, I am sitting here, writing this to mostly myself and telling myself that my goal is to have a celebratory meal with my friends after the marathon. Maybe not a big meal, maybe without dessert, maybe it’ll be the same safe foods I have now, but 1 celebratory meal. No purging (and thinking about this is already making me anxious). 1 meal.

I know seeking help would probably help dramatically in being able to reach this goal but right now I still can’t. I’ve been sucked back in and the disorder eating and the voice in my head keeping me in this mode have a death grip on me. It’s like bungee jumping, I jumped toward the stability and safety of the ground (aka recovery) but, just as I almost made it there I flung back up- up toward the ED- where I started, now every time I go drop down again it seems like I am getting a bit closer to the safety of recovery and a bit farther from the ED but I am still on the bungee cord and oscillating between bounces hoping the ED doesn’t pull me back up to where I started before the bouncing ceases and I can get off and settle on solid ground. Safe, solid ground.

But, back to the marathon: Words cannot express how thrilled I am, this was the IT marathon for me this year, the one I wanted to run more than any of the others and I am astonished that I was lucky enough to get in my first year entering the lottery! I cannot wait to run, I am excited to train again and post runfies on IG with the #RunWithTheMarines (and maybe #MCM too).

Countdown: T- 7 months (exactly!) 10-25-15 will be here soon!

 

 

 

 

Being Sucked Back In…

Trigger Warning: Do NOT continue if you are easily triggered. This is NOT a hopeful post.

I HATE FOOD.

The last couple days have been so hard. I just want to give up. I can’t even stand my safe food right now. I feel like eating is the worst form of torture on Earth and honestly, I don’t understand how people enjoy this. All I hear in my head is awful thoughts, my stomach is bloated, I can feel the food attacking my body. I keep trying not to purge because the side effects have been scary the last few days (chest pain, this odd cramping feeling by my kidney, being so lightheaded when I stand up I have to brace myself against the wall and wait for the black out to pass) but I CAN’T TOLERATE FOOD.

I couldn’t even run today because the cramp in my upper stomach was so bad. Yesterday, I powered through it but today it was almost like a knife went through my upper, right stomach. This does nothing to help encourage me to eat either. It was upper stomach pain (mostly on the left and middle, though) that was my main problem when my GI issues started so now on top of trying to convince myself to fight through my hatred of food, I’ve also got the obstacle of trying to convince myself the stomach pain won’t return-which is virtually impossible when the pain is there and often accompanies eating  food that doesn’t sit well with me and even though I haven’t strayed from my safe foods.

On top of that I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me. Telling me I do have an ED when I don’t. I eat. I don’t eat a lot but I eat food-unfortunately and also how I ended up in this Hell. I am failing at keeping my body safe. Food is not safe, it is the enemy.  I can’t even shower right now I am so grossed out. I ate a bowl of cauliflower. My one safe food and I feel like this. I can’t keep doing this to myself. At least not eating doesn’t cause this type of distress and torture. It’s a different kind of torture but at least it’s manageable. I can’t do this. I loathe food, my body, my mind, everything right now. Today, I don’t even want to seek help either because I know they are going to make me eat and then I’ll have to endure this torture and people will be watching for me to purge so that will just be harder which means this feeling of disgust won’t go away.

I honestly don’t know if it is my mind making all this worse or not. That’s the worst part- not knowing which of me is telling the truth. The part that keeps saying don’t purge anymore or the part saying purge it and restrict better. Either way, the “purge and restrict more” person is winning the battle today. I’m done. Nothing can be worse than this pain, not even the pain from purging despite what side effects come up.