Saturday, June 25, 2016

renewed determination

I just got home (well, three hours ago) from Tiger Mt.  We had an alumni slumber party!  We talked deep and played hard.

I came home with a determination to stop taking diphenhydramine (in any form).  I don't need it to sleep.  I think sometimes I get in this mindset that I need to be barely able to hold my eyes open in order to go to bed.  Simply drifting off is somehow not good enough in my eyes.

My ED is ugly at the moment and I'm frustrated.  I'm tired of the mind games.  It feels like that's where things always start.  I eat healthy for awhile and it starts to feel tedious.  I over think it, I start to worry that I'm eating too much.  I justify eating smaller amounts and eventually whittle things down to skipping meals.  Then....going without food makes me insane.  I get hungry and I want to celebrate, I want to enjoy food again, I want satisfied.  So I start purging.

The benadryl shuts off the ED mind games.  It makes it so that I can zone out and not care, about food, work, my marriage....but I think it's rooted with my ED.  Evening is always my toughest time with food.  I feel like I would be so successful if I could just get through an evening without eating something...and I would wake up feeling good, small, powerful.  *side note...why do small and powerful go hand in hand for me?!  That's not very logical.

I have absolutely no idea how to get a handle on the ED mind games.  It feels very impossible. I'm not fighting that part of my addiction very well today.  I am fighting the substance part though.  It feels like "not enough" but at the moment it's what I've got.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016


I realized today that I've spent a lot of time this week convincing people that I'm doing great....and I'm exhausted from it.  Why?  Because in all reality I'm not as great as I say.  Putting up the healthy front is about as tiring as my addiction.  All of a sudden I'm buried in this again and wondering how the heck this happened...when did this happen?!  And why?  I'm having a bit of a mental block with all of this so maybe if I start writing again...writing honestly.

So last Saturday I drank an entire bottle of zquil, on top of some benadryl.  It happened over the span of three hours or so?  It's not like I chugged it.  

I've been purging again.  I just keep pushing my limits and I hate it and I love it.  I know that I'm playing with fire.  What scares me is that I'm struggling to be honest about it.  I stooped to a new low when purging this week.  I often purge in the shower and depending on what I'm purging I'll either let it go down the drain or I'll puke into a container and dump it in the toilet to flush.  Well...I'd flushed so often already that I was paranoid my husband would ask questions.  So I dumped it in the trashcan and had to stealthily sneak it outside.  I mean...seriously!!??  I'm so annoyed and ashamed of myself.

I've talked to my dad way more often than normal lately.  (seems it would be related, but I feel like that would just be an excuse)  Yesterday I talked to him for half an hour, that's pretty much a record.  Ha!  I called my mom's cell phone and planned to talk to just her but she passed the phone to him so she could help my niece make pancakes.  (mmm....pancakes!)  The conversation was easy flowing and light, yet not just bullshitting.  I hate it when I can't connect in a conversation.  Small talk just stresses me out.  Anyway.  So I was testing the waters a little and talking to him a bit about my experience at Tiger Mt and how I'm planning to visit again this weekend.  Then, he asks me "so how's your program been going?"  In my head I'm immediately in an all-out panic.  My program?!  What does he even mean?  Program....pfft!  I quickly (and rather coldly) say "fine."  *awkward silence*  And then I remember my svelte conversation skills and ease us into a safer subject.  

I know I'm very push-pull with my dad.  I'm sure the poor guy is mightily confused.  I set him up for a deep conversation that I pretend to want (am I pretending?) and then shut it down the second he starts to respond.

So.  There you have it.  My nerves are fried right now, not because of my addiction, but because I'm trying so damned hard to hide it and pretend that everything is actually okay.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Who's yer daddy?

This is my dad:

The bottom picture is probably the happiest I've ever seen my dad look in a picture.  The top one is probably my favorite.  My dad was the sole caretaker for all of the animals in our small-town zoo.  His favorite was Elvira the tiger.

When I was between 6-8 years old we lived within walking distance of the zoo.  (small town walking distance was probably a 2 mile trek if you followed the train tracks and cut through some alleys)  In the summer I would walk to the park where my dad worked, and bring him a half gallon jug of lemonade and sometimes a bologna sandwich for his afternoon break.  I'd follow him around and help divvy out the food for the animals.  Small town zoo rules meant that I was allowed in any of the animal cages as long as my dad was with me.  He loved when visitors came to the zoo while he was feeding Elvira.  I'd work the crowd and tell them "Just wait, just wait!  He'll get her to roar!"  If Elvira was hungry, it took very little coaching from my dad to make her talk back to him.  Parents would ooh and ahh, and kids would watch with wide-eyed amazement....and I would beam with pride.  Those moments always made me proud to call him my dad.

On Saturdays my mom and dad would get up early and go out for breakfast.  Money was tight but they could at least afford a couple of plain biscuits with coffee from McDonald's...and they would sometimes come home with a dozen donut holes for my sister and I.  I loved Saturday mornings...I'd fly out of bed as soon as I heard the front door click shut....knowing that my sister and I had the house to ourselves for a whole hour.  The freedom was exhilarating.  I could squeal and giggle as loud as I wanted, run through the kitchen at top speed...and sit 6 inches away from the TV screen while I watched forbidden cartoons about wizards and monsters.

I would often barter with my dad.  In exchange for doing something he wanted to do, he would agree to do something I wanted to do.  One of my favorite requests was to have 30 minutes to do whatever I wanted to his hair.  He'd sit on the floor in front of the couch, with no shirt on.  I'd sit behind him, careful to never touch his skin, which was freshly lotioned up by yours truly.  I was meticulous with my styling.  The goal was to find a way to put ALL of my barrettes and bows in his hair.   He usually ended up looking like a multi-colored, plastic porcupine.   I was always pretty pleased with my handiwork and would giggle with absolute glee when he saw himself in the mirror.

My second favorite thing was to go for a drive with him.  I never wanted to go anywhere...just mosey up and down some dirt roads in his rusty old pick up down.  I always wanted to sing with him.  My dad is a very quiet man, but he would gladly sing old gospel hymns with me, at the top of our lungs...always off key.  The louder the better!!  His favorite was Onward Christian Soldiers.  My favorite was Victory in Jesus.

My relationship with my dad has never been truly healthy.  He is a broken, wounded man and he had no idea how to take care of himself much less a wife and two little girls.  He did his best to survive and so did I.  Some of my favorite moments with my dad came from a very messy, broken place.  Even still...I'm happy that those moments happened, no matter the circumstances that created them.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

Introducing....Brady and Lucy!

Today was a good day, up until oh....dinner time.  I'm annoyed with myself because I fell to the whims of bulimia logic.  While stewing over my failure, Lucy was relentlessly shoving a squeaky toy into my ribs....reminding me that life does not have to revolve around bulimia.  

I'm one of those crazy animal lover types.  I can't believe it's taken me this long to introduce you to my dogs!!  Well, I'd been holding back because I was paranoid that people I know in real life might stumble onto my blog and realize they know me...but I'm starting to care less about that.  I've started to merge my real life with my blog life a little bit and I'm finding that I like it.  

SO.  I want you to meet my quirky, love-able, sweet boxers!  There have been many days that they were my only reason for getting out of bed.

This is Brady....

And Lucy.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

awkward question of the day

I'm starting to make a presence in the work break room during lunch time again.  One of the women sitting with me suddenly busted out with "so my cousin throws up everything she eats, just like you, and I can't remember what it's called"  The way she said it sounded like she had been wanting to start this conversation with me for a long time.  I was actually a little amused.  I've sensed that she was curious for awhile.  It seems that whenever I'm talking about my ED she suddenly shows up.  She stopped eating lunch in the other break room and instead has been sitting with me.  We don't talk often, usually she plays on her phone and I read or chat with whoever else is at the table.

We talked about her cousin for awhile.  Her cousin is in her 40's and has been bulimic for many years.   She doesn't hide it, yet she doesn't talk about it either.  My coworker told me some of the things that she's seen her cousin doing.  I then tell her a few things that she probably doesn't see her cousin doing.  I normally talk pretty openly about my eating disorder, and I forget that what I do is not normal.  She then said something that I can't believe I've never been told.  "Why don't you just eat a normal amount of healthy food instead of eating junk and purging it?"

How do I even answer that?  (and is it that I haven't been asked that until now? LOL!)

I just told's not that simple.  I explained a little about how eating disorders are not actually about wanting to look good and be skinny.  That might be what manifests on the surface, but I don't think that's often the real root of an ED.  It made me really think though.  The general public is very uneducated about eating disorders.  We didn't have time to talk a whole lot about it.  I could tell she had about 50 bajillion questions. I came away from the conversation feeling a bit empowered.  I love it that she found me approachable enough to talk to about her cousin.  I like the idea of helping loved ones understand the person they are worried about.  Eating disorders are tough on friends and family too.

Sunday, June 5, 2016

weird weekend

I think I'm losing my mind.  I've been in a weird emotional funk all weekend.  Let's see if I can describe this....

I felt like a zombie most of the weekend.  Stuck in a weird emotional haze.  I was wandering around my house like I was lost, and sometimes peeking out my blinds like a creeper.  Sitting in my chair, staring at the wall and just....I don't even know!!  It felt familiar, like I was in a flashback that had no memory attached to it at all. Is that even possible??  I've googled ptsd before and I've read up on abuse issues and flashbacks....but nothing has ever clicked completely.  This is SO unnerving.

Friday night on my way home from work, I called my mom.  (bad idea!  family phone calls and fridays are just not a good mix for me)  It was her birthday, so a phone call was sort of warranted.  She said she (and my dad) wants to visit.  Soon.  Soon!  omg.  Panic!  No.  Nope!  Not ready for a visit yet!!  But why?  It makes no sense.  My poor parents are just so confused and baffled by my lack of contact with them.  *sigh*  To be honest, I'm a little confused myself.  Yes, abuse happened.  Neglect was also a thing.  Was it serious?  I have no idea.  From the outside looking in, it looks like I'm a bit traumatized.  But why?  The level of shit that I've been through doesn't match the way I'm reacting years later. 

UGH and it wreaked some havoc on me with food.  O_o  I kept going to the kitchen on Saturday and eating the same exact thing each time.  It wasn't a binge thing, but it wasn't a snack or meal either....I just wanted one piece of bread with peanut butter and honey.  That's not even something I eat very often, yet that's all I wanted to eat on Saturday.  WHYYY????  Am I reading too much into this?  I do tend to overthink things.

My current theory:  I'm an extremely sensitive, highly emotional person.  It's entirely possible that mild abuse has affected me the same way that more intense abuse has affected others.

Should a flashback last an entire weekend?  Is that possible??

Late this afternoon I found myself sitting in my chair, feeling trapped and suffocated.  My heart was pounding.  I was feeling afraid and alone, yet my mind was still completely rational.  I knew, logically that I was not alone and that I had nothing to be afraid of.  It seemed like my body and my heart (both spiritually AND physically) had a different opinion.  

I felt a little silly for it but, I whispered a prayer (not my style to pray out loud, or to talk about it...praying is typically a conversation that happens in my head)....and I asked God to please get me out of whatever this was.  Almost immediately I get a text message from a friend.  I reply and ask if I can call her.  Somehow, just hearing a friendly voice was enough to break me out of the...whatever the hell that was.

Maybe now that I'm not drinking, things are actually starting to come up?  And by things, I mean emotions.  I think.  Ugh.

Finally, 10 pm on Sunday night, and I'm feeling somewhat normal again.  *sigh*