Wednesday, February 1, 2017

So I officially Have An Eating Disorder.

Things got not-so-great this fall, and I finally sought treatment. I got a diagnosis, officially, and started one-on-one therapy. Things felt... possible. I was optimistic and hardcore white-knuckling through Not Binging and Not Purging and have only purged twice in 2017! and then it all fell back down again--I didn't want to recover. I didn't want to spend my entire life white-knuckling through behavior avoidance. I was still spending ALL OF MY TIME thinking about food/my body/hating myself/binging/purging/not wanting to live. I started daydreaming about self-harming again. I still haven't been able to walk over a bridge without having my SO on the phone to keep away the "you could jump" thoughts. The restrictive desires have been STRONG these past couple of days. I started rereading ana regzig then stopped, started rereading Wasted then stopped, started looking up all of your blogs then stopped. Because those are things I did When I Was In It. And now I'm Recovering. See? If you stop the behavior, if you white knuckle through it and berate yourself for even thinking those thoughts, it gets better, right?

...

Yeah... no.

I had my fifth session today, and broke down crying in my therapist's office. All the things, all the tears and the self hatred and the wanting to rip my skin away and cut my fat off came pouring out. We talked through the emotional outburst, I got a packet about "grounding" techniques, and a schedule of the two Intensive Outpatient Programs they offer. Because apparently I am now Sick Enough to qualify.

I don't know where to turn. It's about 5pm here and I've had 420 calories today (if that... I don't think the three bites of sweet potato, carrot slice, and boy choy I had in a sauce for lunch were actually 100, but better safe than sorry). I binged yesterday, hard, but that finished at 5:30pm and I don't think 420 calories in 24 hours is supposed to be enough, but food is hard. Scary.

I don't think I can afford IOP, either. I'm 24 and still on my parents' insurance, at least until that gets repealed (thanks, Trump), but the copays alone... ffs. I need to ask, I guess. And I need to ask when it would start, how long it runs, all of that. And I need to figure out if I want to do daytime (would need a new dayjob, couldn't take advanced dance classes in the mornings like I have been, but I'd still be able to rehearse and perform) or evening (could keep my current job&continue taking dance classes, but wouldn't be able to take on any new performance projects), or none of the above and just... keep doing this.

It was also recommended that I get an appointment with a psych and talk about anti-depressants. So.

Lots to think about.

...

Life has changed a lot since I last wrote in June. I don't know if I'll keep this blog a regular occurrence or no--if I do, I'll chat about those other changes soon. If I don't--well, for anyone who finds this in the future, know that the girl who wrote for years about controlling her body and beating into submission is finally open to trying another route.

(Oh, and looking back at those make me laugh, a little. 133.4 yesterday mid-day before the binge, 134.2 this morning. Apparently at one point I did a 4-day liquid fast to get down to this weight. So.

I don't know who's still around, but love to anyone who's reading this.
<3

--The Dancer

2 comments:

  1. honestly, recovering... in the beginning, it's awful. but i honestly truly believe it's worth it. in the beginning, everything gets worse and it's so hard not to and you do lapse and you might relapse but at the moment, i would choose recovery a thousand times over. i'm just saying this because i know you deserve better than this life.

    it's cause i think when you eliminate all the ED thoughts, you have to face the thing that's making you run into coping mechanisms. and that's hard to do.

    "Yeah... no." it does. it really does. it just takes a long time. a really long time. but the miracle happens when you least expect it. i can't say i don't think about weight. i do. often. but i eat. and my ED is not ruining my life. it's not revolved around it. well, not recently, but i'm going to go back into it.

    i really hope that you get help for this. i hope that they're able to help you. you deserve better. so much better.

    food is hard. it's hard to do this. but you're strong. stronger than anything. i know.

    "And I need to ask when it would start, how long it runs, all of that." do that. and i hope that they're able to give you a nice answer.

    i want you to open up to trying something else. because you deserve better.

    i also want to tell you that your weight isn't really that important to me (i don't notice it so much.) what i do notice is that you're pretty amazing.


    i love you to bits and pieces. and i hope that this can help vent a little of your thoughts, but if it's triggering, i hope that you don't come back. try and take care of yourself. you sound like you're in a really vulnerable place right now. take care of yourself.


    -Sam Lupin

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