This Is It

I feel fat, but my therapist is always telling me that fat is not a feeling. I still don’t comprehend her words. I think that real feelings are foreign to me. I had a bad scare with my nutritionist last night. She received my labs from the hospital, and I knew that my heart was skipping, and blood pressure and potassium low, but she said it was so low and I was so dehydrated that my kidneys could shut down and make my heart stop beating. That was a real wake up call to get my shit together and start eating. Since I've been home, Dave has been making me sit down to eat lunch with him. He also wants me to drink V8 Fusion for breakfast. I was eating dinner most of the time even before the hospital, so that hasn't changed. The first day home, I tried refusing to eat, but Dave came over and sat down next to me, and told me that it really wasn't a choice. He said he was sick of continually going through this, and that he was afraid that I was going to die. I couldn't even get angry at him. He is right. It's not fair to my family to have them watch me slowly killing myself. My body has not ingested this much food in quite awhile, and it's causing my stomach a lot of problems. I'm also very stressed and anxious about eating so much more than I'm used to. I really felt happy with my one small meal a day. Last night I almost cried about how much my stomach hurt, and also about the increase in my food intake. I'm so afraid that I will get fat, when I was just beginning to feel comfortable about my weight. Once I go back to work, which is this Monday, my choices for lunch are to drink a Boost supplemental drink, or have Dave come eat lunch with me everyday. I hate to have him do that because I only get a 30 minute lunch, and also the school that I work at isn't very close to our home. It would really be such an inconvenience to him, so I will drink the Boost.
I'm glad that I took this week off of work. I got out of the hospital on Monday, and I started the out-patient addiction recovery program Wednesday evening. It is three nights a week for about four weeks. I'm also still keeping all of my other therapy appointments, and also I will start working with a new therapist who specializes in Dissociative Identity Disorder. On top of all that, I still have to work full time. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything, but I'm also determined to do the work that is involved in recovering. I have so much ahead of me, but last week I didn't even care or want anything to be ahead of me. I must do this. I'm not giving myself any other choice. This is it.

Coming Home

Coming Home

The manics talk on and on
repeating themselves
in such an upbeat way
Clasping my hands
over my ears
is what I long for

Lying in the bed
hour upon hour
contemplating the grey sky
outside of my window
until sleep would gratefully come
I could be silent forever
All of my words
wrapped around in my mind
Swirling in endless circles
My own voice
ringing in my ears,
all too aware
that there is no escape
or at least the peace
doesn’t last long enough
I’m trying
not to want to disappear forever

I awaken
remembering where I am,who I am,
and how I have arrived
at this point
Coming home
is joyfully painful

Angela Minard 2010©

Hard Times

I'm not really sure that I'm up to blogging right now, but I'm going to give it a shot.
I've been struggling with some severe depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. I dissociated on Wednesday night, and I guess that I went on a drinking binge, which I don't remember at all. My husband took me into the hospital and they admitted me to the psych ward for a five day stay. I've also relapsed with my eating disorder which has me feeling sad, depressed and guilty. I'm so ashamed about the worry that I've caused my family. I want to turn things around. I'm going to go to an outpatient addiction recovery program. It is three times a week for a few weeks. Maybe that will help with the drinking. I know that I need all of the support I can get.
I started on a new medication for depression, and hopefully that will help. I'm going to make a huge effort to eat better, so that I can get on the right track. I know that eating more will also help with the depression. I'm going to do everything that I can to start feeling better. My family deserves better than this, and so do I.

Lost At Eight

Lost At Eight

Within seconds
only a quick
downward gaze
eyes return
to survey the scene
but it's all been changed
The sidewalk leads
to a different place
You never could tell
your left from your right
so easily lost in every way
The numbers
don't make much sense
and the umbrellas
as you walk
all look the same
You should never
look down
on a sunny day
you think to yourself
as your tears
splash the pavement

Angela Minard 2010©

A Crazy Place

I'm back at work this week, and although I'm glad to be there, I'm already feeling exhausted. We have a new student in our classroom, and things have felt out of control and unorganized. I'll be ready to see the end of Friday, and even better, to have a long weekend coming up. Part of the problem I know is that I'm not eating well, and it is affecting my energy level and stamina. I'm not eating all day, and then when I get home, I'm so tired that I barely eat. On top of it all, there is always the eating disorder telling me that I need to lose more weight. I know that I need to be arguing with that voice, but I don't seem to have much of a fighting spirit.
Yesterday I had my therapy and nutritionist sessions. They were both much needed. In therapy I talked about a family issue that has me upset and worried for a family member. I usually share almost everything here in this blog, but this is something that I don't feel comfortable discussing here. It was good to talk about it in therapy though, so that my therapist could help me to understand the issue better.
In my nutritionist session, we talked about the beginnings of my eating disorder, and when it first started to become a problem. It all really started around puberty when my body began to change, and I put on weight rather quickly. I remember being very ashamed of what my body was doing, and that was when I first started the cycle of yo-yo dieting, and food restriction. I stopped eating lunch at school because I didn't want other people, especially my peers, to see me eating. I felt so uncomfortable with my body. I still have problems with having others seeing me eat, which is why I rarely eat at work in front of my co-workers. My nutritionist said that for now, she is just happy that I'm making an effort to eat dinner with my family, so we are going slow with adding in eating lunch at work. I know that it will be coming though, and the thought of it makes me very anxious. I'm pulled in two different directions. There is the recovery side, but then there is the side that seems only to care about being thin. I go back and forth between the two so many times within a single day. My head is a crazy place to be most of the time!

A Simple Choice

Why do I let the sick parts of my past take over the present, making me sick in the future? This is when I have the choice to make, and it’s really quite simple. “Go over to the refrigerator or the cupboard, and find something to eat.” I’ve been saying this phrase to myself all afternoon, the light fades, and here I still sit, with an empty stomach and a racing heart. There are days when I just will not do it. I can’t even find it in myself to get angry, and I wish that the indifference would frighten me. I need the anger to recover, and I need to eat to feel. It is a vicious cycle, and the kitchen is only a few footsteps away.

Beautiful~ A Formspring Question

How would you define the word "beautiful"?

Beauty is a light that glows from deep within, and radiates outward, spreading warmth, peace, and joy. Those are the things that I feel when I witness true beauty. It is not what you can see with your eyes, but what you experience inside of your soul.

Ask me anything

Snow Days

I should be back at work today, but we had a snow day, and another one has already been announced for tomorrow. I’m ready to go back. I had a phone session with my nutritionist last night, and I was telling her that while I’ve been on break, I’ve felt even more eating disordered than usual. I think it’s because when I’m at work, I rarely think about food, or my body image. I don’t have the time. Right now though, that is all there is. I’m stuck in the house because of the weather, and although I can keep myself somewhat busy around here, it’s not the same sort of distraction. I have to work harder to challenge the negative self talk, and there seems to be more of it. I’m proud of myself for challenging it, but I do get weary. I’m still pretty much sticking with my one meal per day, which is dinner so that I can eat with my family, but lately that depends on what I’ve already eaten during the day. When I’m at work, I don’t eat at all. My nutritionist wants me to start trying to eat lunch at work, but I’m scared that I will want to cut dinner if I do that, and eating with my family is too important. I’m feeling stronger, so maybe soon I will be ready and able to add an extra meal. It shouldn't be that hard, but believe me, it is.

To Dream...

I'm still on vacation, and enjoying every lazy minute of it. Today I got out of bed at 10:00, and then found myself napping an hour later! It was a wonderful nap though, and I dreamt of biking through a beautiful forest with my husband. Dreams are funny, aren't they? We haven't been on bikes in years, and my husband's biking days are over since the brain tumor, but the dream was soothing, and now I feel very well rested. I'm also grateful to be alive...to dream.
Last January, I was in the darkest depression of my life. I look back, and cannot even tell you about the holidays or what I did during that time. I was in a deep pit, and could not find my way out. The only option I could see at the time was to get out. I only wanted an end to the pain, and I had lost my will to fight anymore. After the suicide attempt, it took months before I could see any glimmers of hope and light. There were many moments of anger that I had failed, and I still have guilt about those feelings, and the many people that I hurt. I do worry about this relapse with the eating disorder. There are times when I wonder if this is somehow a more passive form of suicide. I can honestly say that I do not want to die, and that I'm grateful for each and every breath that I take. I'm not much for making new years resolutions, but I do resolve this year to kick this eating disorder to the curb, once and for all. I have too much to live for.