Struggling

28 05 2010
Heaven bent to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight
Truth be told I’ve tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear
Though I’ve tried, I’ve fallen…
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don’t come round here
And tell me I told you so…
We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It’s the bitter taste of losing everything
That I have held so dear.
I’ve fallen…
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don’t come round here
And tell me I told you so…
Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I’m lost to those I thought were friends
To everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarassed
Pretend that they don’t see
But it’s one missed step
You’ll slip before you know it
And there doesn’t seem a way to be redeemed
Though I’ve tried, I’ve fallen…
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don’t come round here
And tell me I told you so…

No, I haven’t relapsed. . . . but I feel as if I’m fighting an uphill, losing battle. Someone very close and dear to me, a man who willingly adopted the “father” role throughout most of my childhood, died tragically and unexpectedly. All desire for food was instantly stricken from me. . . . .Eating is difficult, at best, and feels impossible at worst. I bicker and fight about food, something I haven’t done in a long time. I’ve made the promises to fight. . . . . to stay strong. . . . . and I’m trying, but it seems impossible. I feel as if I’ve been driven to my knees in a world that just keeps spinning.

I purged for the first time in roughly two months the other night. I didn’t binge. . . . but I was eating emotionally. I quickly got back on track the next day; I wanted no part of that demon. I was seeking that numb, foggy feeling that purging brings. . . . . that disconnect from everything around you. . . . and it just didn’t happen.

Since then, I have struggled to eat. I met my calorie count yesterday, but with a lot of consternation along the way. The day before, I wasn’t even close. Today, I’m just struck with the absolutely MASSIVE amount of food that 1700 calories is. It doesn’t make sense; it’s too much.

Four days ago, I believed that this was going to be ok. . . . . that food was coming naturally and easily, most of the time, and it was just going to settle into a lulling rhythm. Now, I don’t know. Nothing feels the way it did, and feels more akin to how it used to.

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Abolition of Meal Plans

25 05 2010

I wish! đŸ˜€

What we (KY and I) have done, though, is built a little more freedom of choice into the system. Everything I eat still has to be documented and weighed/measured out in order to prevent relapse, but I get to choose my own foods on a day to day basis, instead of planning several days in advance. I have to keep a running food diary throughout the day, though, and send it to him every night. If I choose, I may make a meal plan, instead. I might fall back on that if I am going to be having a busy day or something. . . . . I can’t stand making the stupid things. . . . . but they’re a wonderful tool to have. It’s comforting sometimes knowing that I don’t have to deal with the anxiety of picking something in the moment when there’s not much time to choose. Eating disorders are tricky little buggers, and relapse is even sneakier. As such, KY is being extremely careful with what he allows me to do, concerning meal plans, exercise, food choices, or rate of weight loss. Eating disorder relapse isn’t a possibility either of us want to consider, although it does, for now, have to be on the forefront of our minds.

My “running around” has increased, and I’ve got a puppy that is very high-energy. I think I told you guys about her awhile back. Anyways, I’m back to losing weight after being stable between 155 and 158 for about a month and half. I’ve dropped two days in a row, but it’s a healthy rate! A couple of weeks ago, I was at 154.6, and now, I’m at 153.2. It’s healthy, y’all, I swear!





Group

20 05 2010

I attended a recovery group tonight. I’d been promising to attend for weeks now, and never have. I’d definitely always had my doubts about the program, but I had finally worked myself around to it. The issue, for me, wasn’t the “recovery” part or the “support” part or the “information” part. . . . . It was the “Bible and Christ” centered part.

I was raised “Christian.” We, as a family, went to church every Sunday and Wednesday. We attended church functions are participated in all events. I went to camp of a summer, and attended Christian school. My family had a “church” face. We’d pull into the parking lot, and it’s like a light would switch. They’d bicker and scream and fight and cuss all the way there, but buddy, pull in the parking lot, and I had the perfect, most amazing family on Earth. I was exposed to all denominations of Christians, from the wayyyyyyyyy far left wing to the most fundamental Christians of them all, the Independent Baptists.

I grew cold. I grew distant. I will be the first to announce that my moral and values system is Christian-based, but then, most middle-class, white  American’s is. I do not, however, consider myself “Christian.” I don’t welcome Christianity, on any level. I greatly respect those who hold Christian beliefs. I revel in the joy it brings them. I politely listen, and when I have something to add concerning the Bible or Christianity, I will. Most of the time, though, I just listen.

This recovery group is completely Christ and Bible based. There is not a problem with that. There most definitely is not. I know more people who fall back on their faith in God than who don’t. . . . . and I’m so happy that they’re happy, settled, and at peace.

It’s not for me. It’s not a fit. I don’t mesh, click, or feel comfortable. It was nothing to do with the group; they were nothing but open, inviting, and warm-hearted. We were all asked to share our stance and position on God, and I was openly honest with mine. The group was still just as warm and inviting. It has to do with my unwillingness to accept or be directly involved with Christianity.

In any case, there are a couple other resources close to me; I think I’ll check them out. I may attend this group one more time in order to see if perhaps I was just having an “off” night . . . . *soft shrug*





The Snack Bowl

10 05 2010

So I finally did something today that I’ve been thinking about doing for awhile. I put together a “snack bowl” full of a variety of yummies. Big deal, you may say. . . . . why does that matter? Well, they’re all in individual zip lock baggies, weighed out to the correct portion size with calories, fat, and protein counts on the bag to make meal planning easy. I’ve noticed food is far easier when I don’t have to think about it. đŸ˜€ The calories range from 90 to 300, and the snacks from beef jerky, to nuts, to cereal, to pretzels, to trail mix, to popcorn. It’s quite grand, if I must say so myself. Having a readily available bank of pre-measured food makes everything easier in the moment, especially if I’m just not “feeling like it”.

I have my own version of animal therapy here in the form of a older puppy (probably under a year old) that I am pouring my heart and soul into. She brings a ton of joy into my life with her wriggly, happy, bouncy zest for life and learning. I’m currently seeking a home for her; she was a rescue. Any takers?





Recovery Road

6 05 2010

I’m realizing more than ever that this is a long, hard road. I was eating lunch today, standing in the kitchen. Nouveau Vie definitely taught me that it’s easy to eat when you’re DOING something besides just eating. For most people, that’s a bad thing. . . . . they tend to eat whole bags of chips and whatnot. . . . .  but for me, it helps me eat everything I’m supposed to. I was standing there, leaning against the counter, slowly eating a bowl of soup, when a thought crossed my mind.

I was eating. Not only was I eating, but I wasn’t thinking about every bite. For this meal, for this snatch of time, food wasn’t everything.

I was just like. . . . . whoa. That’s not to say that the past few days haven’t been difficult, at all, for they have. . . . but I’m noticing the little changes starting to come about.

I don’t have an overwhelming need to bolt and purge, although I do look forward to the day that I don’t immediately think about puking after I eat. Seriously, that gets old. I don’t understand how normal people just eat and then go about their day. . . . but I hope to join those ranks some day.

I don’t look forward to meals, but I don’t dread them. It’s not like my day is centered around these 3-5 times a day when I have to gag my way through something and feel like I’m choking down sawdust. It’s just food; it’s ok.

My hair isn’t falling out as much. It’s still everywhere; don’t get me wrong. . . . but it doesn’t fall out by the handfuls. It’s also starting to thicken up a bit.

Being dizzy is ODD. It’s something that catches my attention, not a normal state of being. It’s not something that I automatically compensate for when I stand. . . . . if I’m dizzy now, it’s noticeable.

Eating is something that just has to happen. No matter what is really going on, it’s starting to settle in that eating is just something that has to happen. I still forget to eat sometimes, or I feel like I’d rather eat glass than food, but it’s just a normal part of my day.

I’m going to do a post soon on the foods and tools that have helped me the must thus far.








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