ED is a talker

It is a rare moment when ED doesn't have anything to say.  He's been saying plenty now that I'm in recovery.  He's persistent too so even when I try to talk back to him he just gets louder and drowns me out.

ED was very excited when I first heard the word discharge.

ED: Finally!  Now we can get back to how it was, just you and me.  At work we can avoid everyone and we can do all the things we used to do.  And you can exercise!  Wouldn't it be fun if we really got you going?  This time you'll do everything right and since no one really knows anything about eating disorders you can get away with anything.

He loves to make himself sound promising.

ED: I really care about you.  I'm the only one with your best interest in mind.  I won't ever leave you and I will help you achieve all your dreams.  You want to sing, dance and act and the best way to do that is skip some meals.  It's not a big deal.  Your body doesn't really need all that food.  Energy comes from willpower not food.

Even though I know this is all a bunch of lies it's still hard to fight off.  Today it took me an hour to finally make my lunch and then eat it.  In the past I would think I could just kick ED to the curb on my own.  Everyone else seems to eat and be normal so I will do the same.  Just will myself to do it.  And maybe I can keep up with eating "right" for a few weeks, but eventually the novelty wears off.  ED whispers in my ear and I believe him and realize now much I missed him.  I've been eating six times a day since early January.  The novelty has really, really worn off.  

There is still a part of me that thinks I can go on with my daily life just perfectly fine with ED in the background. 

I tell myself I've got this under control.

But I don't.

 

Put one foot in front of the other

That's what my recreational therapist told me this past Friday.  We were talking about my discharge and how nervous I was.  Those words are so simple.  Just walk basically and right now I feel like I'm crawling.  But that's not at all what Mary really meant.  She meant to keep moving forward and although crawling doesn't get anyone very far I am still moving forward.

Yesterday was my first day out of treatment and boy, did I put up a fuss with my meal plan (or really ED did).  It was hard to finish anything whether it was a meal or a snack.  That's how it was during treatment too.  Like right now my snack is sitting next to me and I just don't want it.  Why?  Because I'm not hungry.  Because I felt like I ate a lot at lunch.  Because I think it's stupid.  Because ED is angry (that's the real answer).  Will I eat my snack?  Yes...

There were positives to yesterday though too!  My outpatient therapist miraculously had a cancellation and originally I wasn't going to see her for awhile.  Phew!  So glad I got to see her.  We talked about a lot of good stuff (and by good, I really mean hard, tough, and anxiety provoking, but that IS good, means we are talking down deep and not superficial.)  And since I'm not ready to smash my scale she is holding onto it for me.

Then I went to meet my new dietician.  I was more nervous about this appointment, but she is so great!  We discussed some of how much I want to know my weight and it was rather refreshing for her to say, "I don't even know your weight and to be honest I don't really care what is."  Say what?!  She will weigh me from time to time, but as long as I'm following my meal plan she doesn't care what it is.  She says that it's just a number that doesn't really mean anything.  I'm so not at that point of acceptance, but with her honesty and integrity I feel like that attitude will eventually rub off.

And last night I finished the day with beginner yoga!  I've never done yoga before, but I've been cleared for exercise.  My good friend does yoga and the staff has said how awesome yoga is for mindfulness and body appreciation so I tried it out.  It was tough, but I did what I could and I plan on continuing.  The amazing part?  There were times I wasn't even thinking about my problems or worries or anything, I was focusing on what my body was doing and how it could do the various stretches.

Today I went to work.  Super nervous!  But guess what?  My coworkers were so happy to see me!  They do not know why I was gone and they didn't ask either.  I'm back at work part time and wow, four hours was definitely enough for one day.  I haven't forgotten my duties, but focusing was a huge problem.  My supervisor is amazing though and she just encouraged me to do what I could.  Tomorrow hopefully I will be able to focus more.  If not, just do what I can.  This will be difficult because my mind likes to tell what I should do and just doing what I can isn't acceptable.  Shoulds are bad, don't should on yourself!  It will just make you go crazy.  So instead of shoulding today I used my new skill of respiratory control and it did help a lot. 

Final thought for tonight: I feel so overwhelmed with all the support that has come about after I shared my blog.  A good overwhelmed though.  To be honest I kept this a secret for so long because I was so worried about the negative reactions I would get, like losing friends and letting people down or people being disappointed, but that's just ED's bullshit to keep me isolated.  You all are wonderful and I appreciate every comment, message, and like.  All the positive encouragement makes me want to keep moving forward and so I shall.

Tomorrow is D Day

Tomorrow I'm discharging from the partial hospitalization program.  This is a good and bad thing.  It's good because my treatment team thinks I'm ready (even though my insurance pushed the issue) and it's bad because I do not feel ready.

It seems somewhat surreal that tomorrow is my last day.  I've bonded with so many patients and the staff.  For awhile it will feel impossible that I can move on with my daily life without them.  I'm not even sure if I will get to participate in Tuesday's schedule fully and get a good chance to say my goodbyes.  Discharging patients seem to get pulled here and there, which will only make me more anxious about leaving.

I get to take home my most recent art project (made out of clay!) and...my scale.  I turned in my scale to the treatment team when I couldn't fight the urges to not weigh myself anymore.  My scale causes problems and even though I know that I still don't want to get rid of it.  According to staff my weight has remained stable...that's good.  So...what is the number?  And they ask, why is it important?  And my reply, because it has always been important.  It's not a good answer anymore.

A close friend on my support team does not even own a scale.  He has no clue what he weighs and that is so bizarre!  He doesn't value himself as a person by a number.  I'm not at that point yet, but seeing my friend do it without even thinking about it is a good example.

Something potentially therapeutic to do is smash my scale.  Smash it to pieces.  Someone might think that it's a waste of a perfectly good scale when I could just donate it, but it would symbolize so much more if I obliterate it, take it's power away, take ED's power away.

I will be the most vulnerable once I leave treatment.  I can already hear ED planning all the behaviors I should engage in.  What ED isn't bargaining on is I've come this far and I will keep up a good fight.

I am being discharged

I'm trying my very best not to freak out that I am being discharged on Tuesday.  I got official word yesterday...and I did a lot of crying.  I knew one day I'd have to leave treatment, but I thought I'd stay a little longer.  I don't feel ready to leave, but there isn't anything I can do to prevent my discharge.  (Radical acceptance.)

My biggest concern is slipping up.  I know it's human nature to make mistakes, but I'm a perfectionist.  The staff at treatment are amazing and they help keep us all accountable.  Now...I have to be accountable for myself without their help.  That's very scary.  I will have an outpatient team so I'm not being thrown to the wolves, but I won't be seeing them on such a frequent basis.  I will also have my support team, but it's very easy to isolate myself from the people who are there for me.  I just hope I can stay strong and use the tools I've learned.

Also, I just don't feel like a whole person yet.  There are certain house chores I can't even do because they overwhelm me so much.  And somehow I'm supposed to face the world when doing laundry causes a panic attack?  In the past I have dealt with anxiety and overwhelming feelings by engaging in ED behaviors, but I can't do that anymore.  I have to sit with feeling anxious and overwhelmed and scared and frustrated and depressed.  That is fucking hard and there are days it seems easier to give in to ED because it "worked" before.

Just typing this makes me want to cry all over again.  Know what my therapist at treatment would say to that?  "Go ahead, cry!"  She gets excited when our emotions become so raw and vulnerable that the only thing left to do is cry.  We have to feel the pain that we've been trying so hard to contain and hide.  If we feel like shit that basically means we are moving in the right direction.  Great...I'll just check that off of the recovery to do list.

I am very grateful for our therapist because she is suggesting that I ease back into work.  That will be so helpful.  At work I got away with a lot of behaviors so easing back in not only will reduce some of my anxiety, but also help me create a new relationship with work, a healthy relationship.

I'm in love with fantasy and fairy tales and today I realized that some of my favorite characters didn't stay at their new found magical place.  Dorothy, Wendy and Alice all went back home.  They learned a lot on the way and eventually they knew they had to return home.  Although I wouldn't call treatment magical per se, I have learned a lot on my recovery journey thus far and now it's time to go home, time to return to the real world, time to see what I'm made of, time to figure out who I really am.

Am I terrified to figure out who I really am?  Oh yeah...

I am struggling

Yesterday I said I was a warrior and I still believe so, but today I'm struggling.  I have no hunger cues and sticking with the meal plan gets tougher.  I'm trying so hard to accomplish recovery that I keep resisting urges to restrict, binge, purge, self harm, exercise...but all those urges just keep building.  The impending discharge doom is hanging over me.  It's very hard not to focus on and all the potential slip ups I might have after I'm released from the program.

I know logically engaging in any behavior will NOT make me feel better, although the thoughts in my head say otherwise.  I may feel better for a split second and then I will just feel as crappy (or more) than I did before.

These difficult days make me feel defeated and I question (really ED questions) if recovery is worth it.  Having an eating disorder is my way to cope with the world.  Now I'm trying to find new ways to cope and it's hard and majorly sucks.  I'm hoping this blog will be one of those new ways to cope.  Other  good coping skills I've discovered are reading, coloring (yeah like a little kid, seriously it's an amazing thing), listening to music, painting my nails, playing strangely addicting games on my iPad, talking to the people on my support team, and list is going to grow.

Crying also works.  I had a good cry on my way home from program today because all I really wanted to do was purge my dinner, skip my evening snack, and just give up.  Once I came home I talked to my husband (while hiding under the covers, still crying) and he was doing his best to calm me down.  After we talked I was so depressed I didn't want to get out of bed.

Guess what?  I got out of bed.  Took some coaxing and nudging and doing goofy things on John's part, but I got out of bed.  I did some necessary paperwork regarding short term disability for my work, painted my nails, listened to Imagine Dragons, texted with my dad (which was so helpful), and now writing up a blog.  At this moment I don't feel as hopeless, but it can change by the hour, the minute, the second.

Fighting ED is one huge war and there are going to be battles I win and there are going to be battles ED wins.  I'm not trying to set myself up for failure.  I'm trying to be realistic since no recovery is perfect.  Slipping up is a part of recovery.  Slipping up freaks me out.  Slipping up doesn't equal a relapse.  Slipping up means I'm human.

As Cesar Millan (Dog Whisperer) says, "It's not about how bad it was, it's about what you do now."  And now?  I'm going to eat my snack that I've been avoiding since I got home.