Potentially Not Binging – The Insanity

I’m trembling and shaking. My brain is just about controlling my fingers well enough to be able to type. My heart is pounding, my mouth is dry. My stomach is twisted in knots. I feel like I’m about to loose it. I feel like I’m going to burst into tears, lash out, tear my face off and completely break with no chance of returning to ‘normality’. I want to scream and I need to calm down…somehow.

Where has this come from?
It’s Easter Sunday. A bank holiday weekend. Bank holidays are one of my least favourite and most anxiety provoking days each year. The reason? Shops open and shut at hours inconvenient to my eating disorder urges and if I get caught out or mis-plan then my life gets tipped upside down and I have to struggle and grapple with my will to not go completely shit-crazy.

I should have gone to the supermarket yesterday. I intended to. I intended to massively stockpile food in the boot of my car so that this Easter weekend would not restrict my binging. I got drunk yesterday so I couldn’t drive to the store. Not that I cared, I was fuzzy headed and chilled out. It wasn’t an immediate need so I decided that I’d go tomorrow (today).

Today I was just an idiot. I binged in the morning and was going to walk or drive and get my stockpile. Except I decided that maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe this time I would try to resist a binge. What better a way than by not having the possibility in the first place. If I don’t buy the food then I have to succeed at not binging. I have to sit with the feelings of loosing my sanity and falling down the rabbit hole into oblivion and a pit of despair. I was going to go. I realised that I wasn’t going to feel too great if I didn’t. But I didn’t go. I made the choice to resist binging.

Now I’m in complete panic. I’m freaking out. I can’t do this! I’m trying to document this so that I can remember what I go through after I go through it. Often I can’t remember clearly once the haze of the after kicks in.

Tonight the family are cooking an Easter meal together! I need to do something to pull myself back together enough to get through that. Or maybe I’ll pretend to be sick. I don’t want to eat. Food is evil and if I eat that and can’t get more then what will happen? Or what if I eat too much in front of them. Or maybe I’ll eat it and purge. I feel like I need to be sick anyway with my stomach all twisted like this. Fatties always get judged for eating anything and I shouldn’t eat anything or touch anything bad.

What’s even more stupid is I’m not completely foodless. I have what I call my ‘emergency’ tins under my bed. They live there for situations where I can’t get to the shops such as if it’s a bank holiday and I don’t realise until I get to the shops and they’re shut. I don’t know why I’m experiencing all of this panic and anxiety. I realised I have these tins and that didn’t make me feel any better. Maybe it’s because they’re not what I usually binge on? They’re bingey foods though. And there is enough of it for a binge later if I do. And then the shops will be open tomorrow. Why do I feel so horrendous?

I hate this eating disorder. I should have just gone to the shop and stocked up. I’d be feeling fine right now if I had! I’ve put myself in this position. I thought I’d try not to binge and it’s lead me to emotional turmoil. I feel like I’m loosing my mind. All over food. Stupid food.

___Update___

There are tears and anger. I feel pathetic and stupid that I’m reacting like this. I feel like I’m drowning in my own feelings. I’ve lost all sense of time and I’m alone in my room.  I’m shaking less now but the feelings of hatred have replaced it. I hate myself. I’m a stupid, weak and fat waste of space. I’m ashamed of myself. It’s my fault I’ve ended up in this mess. I should have done something about this years ago. Now my blood pressure and blood is messed up and I can’t cope with the daily expectations of life. I want to break something.

___Update___

I’m trying not to cry. I’m jittery but unwilling to move or do anything. My stomach is even more knotty and I just want to be sick. I can feel my heart racing. It’s different to the palpitations that I get. It’s like it’s racing in my throat. I’m finding it difficult to swallow and my brain is all over the place. I don’t know how to make this pain stop.

___Update___

I’ve been drawing how I feel emotionally and physically right now. Overload. Will this ever stop?! I’ve been in turmoil for nearly 2 hours!

NeedToCant

___Update___

I’m calmer. My emergency stash is now comforting me more. It’s there if I need it. I’m not in a complete disaster. I’m still upset, anxious and angry but at a more manageable level. These rapidly increase if I think about things. So long as I’m numbing out online I’m doing okay. I still have an uncomfortable feeling in my chest and my heart is still fast but I’m swallowing more easily now and I feel less sick. The sick feeling in my stomach has been replaced with fluttery butterflies. When I’m not blocking everything out my mind keeps turning to thoughts about my emergency stash and self-harm.

Dietitian and Binge

I saw the dietician. She was lovely and really understanding. She doesn’t expect much from our sessions as she doesn’t work in the mental health sector so imagines seeing her won’t be particularly helpful with my eating disorder. But she was super kind and non-judgemental.

What I really wanted to write about was what happened after. I binged. I intend to be honest (and it might possibly disgust you) but this is the first time I’ve felt like documenting it in the aftermath. You’ve been warned.

After the dietitian I walked to the supermarket. I walked to burn calories. In the supermarket I was anxious and not letting myself look at any trigger foods. I bought some safe foods.

On my way home I nearly fainted. I was struggling to carry my light load of shopping. I had to call my fiance to come and help me home. On the way I had some apple juice to stop me from fainting. I hate the fact I drank it. I still feel like that makes me weak. Like if I was strong I would have let myself faint.

Anyway I got home and put the shopping away. I kept a couple of things to take upstairs. There was no more room in the fridge. This accidentally included a pint of milk.

I lay on my bed. The apple juice hadn’t done the trick. And I was in mental turmoil. Counting calories in food and exercise but also beginning to feel that urge to eat. I was angry at myself for feelinh that urge, disgusted at the thought of it happening, scared of how out of control I was beginning to feel. I couldn’t pull myself together. 9 days of hardly eating. It shouldn’t be a struggle to keep going. My weight was going down. But, I reason with myself, maybe that’s why I hit the curb in my car. Either end of the food spectrum I’m a mess.

I reach for the milk. I drink all of it. As I drink it I distinctly remember thinking that it didn’t taste nice. I drank it anyway. Too quickly and too easily.

I didnt stop at the milk. I made some food, ate it. It tasted amazing. But at the same time I had that nauseating feeling of shame and tears behind my eyes. I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. I couldn’t stop, no matter how much I hated it. My life was over. My ‘happy mask’ took over but I wanted to weep. I hate food, the power it has over me and the fact that I need it. I’d rather die than continue to live through binge hell.

I run out of my own supplies. “Do you have any nibbles?” I hear myself asking my fiance. He hands some of his stash over to me. He knows all to well the effect on my mood if I do not get it exactly when the urge drives me to. He is sadly all to familiar with my middle of the night trips to buy my fix. Bless him, I have no idea why he loves me. Sometimes I struggle to believe he really does. Surely I’m unlovable.

The aftermath is no more fun. Maybe some people get a sense of temporary euphoria. Maybe I used to. Now there isn’t a single bit of pleasure in any of it. I hate it and I can’t stop.

I get a non-contageous tummy bug. Technically not a tummy bug but the same symptoms. Except far worse because I drank a bottle of milk and I’m lactose intolerant. That and I haven’t had dairy in nine days so my tolerance is even lower and it was on an empty stomach. You get the picture. I spend the next few hours in the toilet.

But the sickest part? I’m sitting here in the doctor’s waiting room having fully planned my next binge and beyond for the evening. I still feel sick. My stomach is still churning and I’m getting the cold sweats. I want to cry. I hate what food has done to me…or more accurately what I have done to myself.

I’m a blob of a human being who apparently was made for one thing…to gorge herself stupid on everything in sight.

Zumba, Eggs and Nerves

*Trigger Warning*

I went to my first zumba class today. Surprisingly I really enjoyed it!

This week I’ve been living solely off of small amounts of apple juice. Today started off on the same path. I felt faint and was struggling to walk around the house so I had a small bit of apple juice. That didn’t help so I had a little bit more. After, I sat on the sofa. I think it was the apple juice that made me emotional. I was angry at myself for needing that much and at my body for needing more than what I’d given it. On the one hand I knew it wasn’t much but at the same time I felt so greedy. An hour later I cried for no reason. I think it was the apple juice that made me cry though. The fact I’d drunk as much as I had.

Later, without having anything else, and still not feeling right I went to Zumba. There were quite a few times the room went bright and I couldn’t focus but I forced myself through to the end. I felt so ill and weak after. I got home and out of fear I was about to faint and not make it up the stairs I had a small amount of apple juice. The only way I could justify it was with the calories I’d just burned. This apple juice would mean that today was the most I’d “eaten” all week. I went to shower but instead lay down on my bed to try and calm my heart palpitations and let my body recover first. I fell asleep for twenty minutes and got up to shower. I still felt horrible. It was the quickest shower ever. I know how my body reacts to showers in these situations so I turned the temperature down to try not to mess with my blood pressure any more. After surviving the shower I went downstairs knowing that I needed something to eat.

I boiled two eggs and covered them in salt. I managed to eat them both. It’s 2 hours later and I’m still upset over the amount of calories that I’ve had today. I feel weak for not letting myself faint. Maybe I wouldn’t have. I could have just gone to bed after all. I’m angry at myself. But dispite this I didn’t purge. I came close. Eating those eggs made me feel physically sick. But the number of calories I’ve burnt today cancelled them out so I was able to hold them in. Not that that’s how it’s been other days this week. I’m scared that the fact I was able to do that means I’m on the pathway to a binge. I chose eggs because I’m not having anything with chemicals in and there was limited choice of non-chemical polluted food in the house. Plus eggs aren’t a ‘risk food’ so there was a smaller chance that it would lead to a binge.

I’m so scared it’s coming. Last night I dreamt I was locked in a supermarket and just kept eating and eating. Plus tomorrow I’m seeing a dietician for the first time. What if what they want me to eat makes me binge? I’m so so nervous. When I went to the doctor and got the referral I was binging. Of course I want help when I’m binging. My weight was going in the wrong direction and I was out of control. But now the wait is over to see them, I’m restricting and I don’t know if I want to try and eat “normally”. I’m still going to go to the appointment and see. Maybe they’ll suggest things in baby steps and foods that I’m less likely to binge on. Maybe. Maybe I’m kidding myself.

Anyway I felt so guilty after eating those eggs and close to tears. But I still felt faint! Stupid body. That’s protein, use it to fix yourself stupid metabolism! I had to be moved to the sofa after nearly fainting at the table. I lay there for a while. Then I took some oatcakes up to bed which was all for show. I got to my room, the oatcakes were tossed to one side and I lay in bed. I am still in bed. Thinking about my appointment with the dietician. And I’m also pondering about my appointment later in the day with my doctor. I was considering trying the anti-depressants that they prescribed me ages ago but they said they needed to see me in person to discuss it when I called them. Now I’m not sure about that either. I’m scared taking them will make me eat more. But I’m going to go and talk it through with them. It’s with someone I really liked last time at the surgery. I think if it was any one else I’d just cancel. I think I’m going to mention my palpitations and purging too. Fingers crossed for tomorrow. And NO FOOD DREAMS TONIGHT!!!

Liebster Blog Award

liebsterlabelsfinal

 

I’ve been nominated by Cherished79 for the Liebster Blog award. I also enjoy her blog. If you haven’t already, I recommend that you check it out. She looks at different mental health issues through her writing including depression and anxiety. My favourite posts are often about eating disorders as well as these other topics. But for those unfamiliar with different mental illnesses reading blogs such as this one can help to prevent/correct misconceptions.

I’m really touched that you nominated my blog! Especially coming someone whose blog I look up to. Thanks!! I think that it’s a lovely way to discover new blogs and am happy to participate. Thanks to Headlong Running Betty‘ for coming up with the award too.

The Rules:

  • Thank the blogger that nominated you
  • Nominate up to 11 blogs whom you feel deserve the award, who have less than 500 followers
  • Post 11 questions for you nominees to answer (I am being lazy, so you can use the same questions that were posed to me!)
  • Inform your nominees and post a comment in their blog to let them know they’ve been nominated

My responses:

1. What inspired you to start blogging? 

I stumbled across Kati Morton’s mental health videos on youtube. One thing she recommends to eating disorder sufferers is to journal. I started doing this and hand a hand written journal but I found it so time consuming and kept rubbing things out and tearing pages out if my entries weren’t perfect. This lead to me thinking about having two journals; one online where I would do the writing and it would be quicker and easier to correct mistakes and the purpose of the writing wouldn’t be lost and then a hand done one where I could do artwork to express my feelings. I have to say it’s not as clear cut as that. The two are overlapping and I’ve started doing some of my art expression on the computer and uploaded it on my blog. I decided on a blog instead of a word document because I think it’s important for the stigma of mental illness to be addressed and people hopefully would be better educated about the issues people face if they are able to read their personal experiences instead of only reading the clinical side…if they read anything at all.

2. How many revisions does it take before you finally publish?

Usually about 3. I’m trying not to be too much of a perfectionist with it in case I become as fussy as I was with my handwritten journal.

3. What were your best/worst subjects in school and what would you like to learn now?

At secondary school my best subjects were art, physical education and biology. I hated p.e. by college because my teacher was horrible and my whole class for p.e. hated me…so I dropped it after the first year. But it was replaced by a love of Sociology.

My worst subjects were maths, Latin, French, Spanish and English. Ironically I’m teaching myself Japanese now. All of those years at school believing I hated langauges and doing really badly in them. Maybe if they taught Japanese it would have been different!

4. What type of blogs do you follow?

Mainly blogs that I can relate to: primarily mental health blogs, especially eating disorder and anxiety blogs. However I also follow other blogs that catch my interest or make me smile.

5. If you could learn to speak a foreign language what would it be? 

Japanese

6. What time of day do you blog?

If I blog during the working week then it’s in the evening. At weekends and on Mondays it ranges from the moment I wake up until stupid-o-clock at night.

7. What is the one thing in life you are most passionate about? 

I am passionate equality for everyone. Social class, ethnicity and gender etc.

8. What is the best thing about you? 

I have dark purple hair with bright purple dip dye.

9. What is the most motivating factor for you to blog? 

It helps me to organize my thoughts and put some of my feelings into words. It’s an un-jumbling process. Or an attempt at un-jumbling at least. Usually eating disorder, depression or anxiety related.

10. What have you learned about yourself from blogging?

I think my understanding of my feelings is growing.

11.  Do you have any other blogs?

Nope.

My nominees are:

http://mondaysmishap.wordpress.com/

http://a2eternity.wordpress.com/

http://nomnomhelp.wordpress.com/

http://thefatballerinablogs.wordpress.com/

Apple Juice & Tears

Hello.

It’s been a while!

(oops…too many typed and unposted entries)

*Trigger Warning*

Apple Juice

I’m in restrict and burn mode at the moment. Again I’m unable to identify the link between emotion and why my eating disorder behaviours changed. All I know is it happened very suddenly. On Saturday I spent the day binging. I was on my third dinner at the cinema and I decided half way through the film that I needed to make myself sick. So I did. Since then I haven’t had the urge to binge once and I’ve been restricting. Since then my diet has consisted solely of small amounts of apple juice (half of which I haven’t been able to keep down).

A new development to my behaviours was that towards the beginning of the week I didn’t want to be hydrated either. So I was hardly drinking any water other than when I was at the gym. I could allow myself to drink at the gym (daily thing at the moment) because I could physically feel the water leaving me that it would be replacing. I was even drinking water and throwing that up. I just thought this was odd. I’ve never done that before. I am also not touching anything with chemicals or preservatives in. The apple juice has to be 100% apple juice. Anything I touch has to be 100% natural.

So after 6 days of eating nothing other than apple juice on some days, today I’m going out for lunch with a friend. Little bit worked up over it. I’m scared eating anything will make me binge. Even though at the moment the idea of food repulses me. Also that’s way more calories that I would be eating if I wasn’t going out. I still intend to eat hardly any but it’ll still be worse than nothing. It’ll be my first solid food in a week. Unless I get soup. That’s what I’m thinking at the moment. Persuade her to go somewhere that has low calorie soup. That’ll be easy enough to undo.

It’s stupid but I don’t want this fuzzy feeling to go away. The nearly fainting I could do without…especially at work yesterday. But the light-headed woozy feeling right now is almost bliss. I feel like I’m just floating around in a daze.

Tears

Something else different happened this week. I cried. Twice! I often feel like I’m about to cry, like I’m on the verge of crying, like I’m about to break but usually nothing happens. This week on Thursday I got stuck getting home from work and broke down in tears on a busy road! I literally couldn’t stop crying for about an hour. Actually I did manage at one point but a lovely couple stopped to see if I was ok. That set me right off again. Then yesterday I cried on my lunch break at work because I was having a horrible day. I’m wondering if my change in eating behaviours is related to this new found ability to cry. Could it be a coincidence that the same week my behaviours flip that I also find myself breaking down in tears?

“What they don’t feel they can’t comprehend.”

I stumbled across this quote today and it immediately clicked with some of what has been passing through my mind recently.

Maybe I’m mentally unwell. Maybe my perception of the world differs to that of a healthy individual. But perhaps I see more clearly. Perhaps my judgement of the world around me is more realistic and not viewed through rose tinted glasses.

My family label me as pessimistic. They could be right. Or they could be blindly staggering after false hope and be unwilling to recognise and accept that life doesn’t always work out and people don’t always achieve what they believe is possible for everyone.

Maybe mental illness is a normal response to the world that we live in. I could argue that I’m not living in denial as others are. Perhaps that’s their defence or coping mechanism to the horrors and pain that surrounds them. I could just be lacking that particular coping skill.

As I think and type this I’m having a debate in my own head. One one hand I believe everything I’ve typed but at the same time I recognise that it’s probably written from a mentally very unhealthy place. I know that I’m depressed but I’m unwilling to accept it (if that makes any sense what-so-ever). I could just be looking for an explanation for my perception of the world where there is none, or where the explanation is not one that I’d be willing to accept.

Deadline Approaching

Warning: Not a particularly happy post. Bad head space. Might be best not to read on.

Time is running out. The more time passes the more I’m demonstrating to myself that things are not going to change for me.

This was supposed to be the year. But the year is passing quickly. It’s already march. I need to be mentally and physically healthy by September. That’s now only six months away. Everything rests on that. The rest of my life is on hold. September is when the rest of my life was supposed to begin.

September was supposed to be when I was going to start trying for a baby. I know that I need to be physically and mentally healthy before that. I can’t be binging when I’m pregnant or risk my child witnessing my behaviours and attitudes. I can’t be a good role model the way I am now. Unless I can sort myself out I can’t allow myself to have a child.

I should be living relatively comfortably by now. Not owning a house or anything but earning enough that finances aren’t a huge source of stress every month. In fairness my money would probably go a fair bit further if my eating disorder didn’t dictate how I spend every penny after paying for essentials. But I should have a more respected job than the one I have now. I’m stuck. Dead end and not a job my family are proud of. I love the children I work with but I should be doing something more worthy of respect. I’m not capable of such jobs nor am I able to get one.

I basically should be nearing a point where I’m happy and healthy, ready to have a child who I can be a positive role model for. I’m nowhere near.

I have failed to achieve two essential parts of my future. I feel like I’ve hit a dead end in life. Maybe it’s possible to qualify for and begin the path to a better job. But that would take a long time. Longer than I’m willing to accept. Maybe it’s possible to recover and become a good role model. But then maybe it’s not. Either way it doesn’t matter. Without the help I need I’ll never find out and I’ll never be healthy enough to have a child. 

I know I’m young. Logically, I could wait. But if it doesn’t happen now I doubt it will ever happen. It’s the only motivation I have to tackle my mental health. The only things I’d want for the future aren’t enough to motivate any progress.

I haven’t mentioned to my therapist yet about my intentions for this year. How I was using the first few months to establish if there is any hope of me recovering and if not then I might just give up on life. I’m still plodding on though. I just wish there was hope. At the moment my urge to self-harm is very difficult to resist and I’ve had an increase in suicidal thoughts. I carry the means for both with me, I think as a kind of security blanket. 

I don’t have a plan of where or when so it’s not like it’s imminent but I’m wondering if carrying the means with me for security is of concern. I don’t want to die. I want things to get better. I just can’t see that happening. For now I’m just plodding along, trying not to make waves and avoiding situations that could really upset me.

I’m okay. Not good but okay. Just struggling and confused.