Anyone with a chronic eating disorder is on a first name basis with their dentist, or will be. Mine is, in fact, a Facebook friend at this point. Anyway, as mentioned in a previous post I had a stressful confusing appointment recently. One thing I got out of it was what I call a day-guard. In other words they gave me a smaller, less obtrusive version of a night guard to wear during the day. I didn’t believe that I would grind my teeth at night and as a result I had 3 root canals in one year. That cured me! Probably due to stress though I realized I clench my jaw all day long. It gets worse when I’m in active anorexic behavior.
I’ve been wearing the guard for a couple days now and it’s great! I can even sort of talk with it in but if I’m in conversation I usually take it off. This is perfect timing getting it right before program.
I lost a wee bit more weight and the result is a significant decrease in anxiety, at least in the morning. I simply can’t tolerate food in any decent amount anymore. I know this will make my suffering that much greater when I get there but it is what it is. I went for a ½ hr walk this morning but it was more a slow to moderate pace. I simply don’t have the energy. I feel guilty because of watching documentaries about anorexics walking for hours everyday. Maybe I could have done that when I was younger but my body is so broken that I just can’t so I get to deal with guilt instead. Monday before I go I’m planning on hitting the weights. I haven’t been doing them because what happens is my muscles fill with fluid, as they should, and the scale goes up or stays the same. Isn’t that silly? It means my body fat is still decreasing but I rely on the scale number to ease my anxiety so I’d rather ruin my muscles. Monday though will be the end of weighing myself obviously. Plus, I can only lift a very low weight, doing a set, wait an hour, do another set, etc because I get winded.
I know I’ve alluded to the fact that I’m larger and too fat for the program. Yesterday while having coffee with a friend, she called me skinny, really skinny… so perhaps my perception is a wee bit off? I was also talking about how overweight I was when we first met. She said I wasn’t overweight at all, but I was, I’ve seen pictures. I am now almost 50 lbs less. So…. even though I’m not in double digits, maybe I’m a bit more successful, if you will, at this than I feel.
My current companion. I feel good right now, early in the morning with a hot cup of coffee but that’ll end by mid-morning. I have 2 more days to get through. I can’t go to a park or something, or outside at all. That always calms me down. It’s currently 17°f (-8°c). With the windchill it feels like 4°f (-15°c), brrrrrrr. Not going outside for any reason!
Tomorrow I’ll have to brace myself and go fill up on gas and rise the salt off although I might just do that on Monday before heading out. I’m going to buy a big bag of sumatra coffee for the house to hopefully make a good impression. The coordinator said it was a full house (more anxiety) and that there are 2-3 beds per room (yikes). I’m trying not to think about it. I’m less worried about my body size compared to others, although that will be a huge trigger for me, than the fear they will all hate me or worse, dismiss me as a fraud.
I’ve got clothes laid out of what I’m thinking of taking. I’ll probably pare that down a little but it’s a starting point. 6+ weeks is a long time. I got my crochet projects together last night. I’m also taking my colored pencils and pens and other coloring stuff. And I’ve decided to take my cards just in case. No, not playing cards – Russian Gypsy Fortune Telling Cards. Yeah, I do that. Oh and skippo!
I have a close friend in the UK that I write to. We started doing actual snail mail letters several years ago and it’s great. However, she isn’t interested in recovery. She did start taking steps toward kind of seeking help but she’s still heavily buried under denial thinking that because she’s not in IP, she doesn’t actually have an issue. She’s suffered almost as long as I have and I’ve suffered for 33 years. My therapist said “no contact” which gave me pause. Having given it some thought, yesterday I decided to cut off communication with her during the program. It was very hard. We write and chat all the time. Here’s the thing, if we talk about everything else and not eating disorder/emotional issues, I still know she’s sick (trigger). I talk about everything and have, in the past, had to address the fact that I shared my life and she didn’t. It’s a one way friendship. She got better, although she still apologizes for having any feelings about anything but it was improvement. I simply can’t go back to my sharing and her not. Friendships are a two way conversation. She isn’t my therapist where I share and she comments.
We agreed to resume when I get back but honestly, I’m unsure whether I should. I get triggered by her behavior and attitude and denials. It’s funny because I am never triggered by anyone here. Maybe it’s because we are so close. The thought also crosses my mind that if we stop communicating for maybe 6 months, it will give her time to consider her own situation. Maybe being able to share her concerns with me gives her a release (by writing and sending) so she doesn’t have to deal with it. Maybe being forced to sit with it…. well, it’ll make her worse or motivate her to seek help. She uses the lack of help through the NHS as an excuse. However, I pay a $1000.00 a month for private care so really, her excuse is just that, an excuse. We’ve talked about that and her response is, “I know,” which is no answer at all.
Another constant companion but I’m trying to keep it at bay for now by staying busy. A huge difference this time (trying to recover that is) is that I’ve shared with people that I’m in treatment for anorexia. They are rooting for me and have assured me of their support when I come home. If we go out to eat I will be free to share my fears during the meal, something I have never ever done. So there’s the possibility off hope.
I plan on blogging my journey. I’ve never had a purpose in life so maybe my journey can help the next person. Maybe, just maybe, my honesty with how crazy my thoughts are, all my fears, all my little steps toward health, my trauma, my successes… my life; I would like to think that perhaps I can make a difference. I know that sounds a bit arrogant of me but the motivation isn’t about “Look I can recover and you can too” but more of “Look, you’re not alone. Your thoughts and feelings are valid.”