Dec 1, 2009
It is truly astounding to me how fast time as gone. Or maybe it is just that I cant seem to remember much of anything. Especially the order of events in my life, thus far. I feel like it was just Christmas. Which is funny because I dont remember Christmas, or the month of December for that matter.
Nov 16, 2009
Oct 13, 2009
Sep 3, 2009
Aug 28, 2009
Aug 26, 2009
Aug 25, 2009
Aug 24, 2009
Aug 23, 2009
It is something rarely found these days. Honesty.
But honestly, i am hardly honest even half of the time.
Not to say that i lie about insignificant things ... much.
More than that, i am not honest with myself.
Which is a confusing way to live.
I feel like i have insane amounts to grow up before leaving for college. Which is scary. First and foremost, sanity must be obtained. Then a little growing up with a bit of finding myself ... as corny as that sounds. My organizational and time management skills are rarely up to par. And all of this frightens me.
But It will be a new beginning. Honestly, i want to be someone different. The perfect chance to reinvent myself?? I have this bazar image of my ideal self which is far from the person i am today. Who knows if i will ever be this person. Maybe it is too far from me or who i am supposed to be.
Maybe i wont even make it to college. Maybe my heart will stop beating. Right now what i need the most is out of my reach. And this is the saddest thing of all to me. That the choice between my future and my existence depends on something i can not control. Something that is so simple. The solution is clear. But the means of making it work are unseen. Maybe i wont make it out alive after all.
I dont even know where to begin. I have been in recovery for 4 months. I have gained emotions, thoughts, words, insight, sanity, humility, understanding and 45 pounds. It is a struggle everyday but, it is a struggle I am now willing to face with open arms. I chose life. That is something I think I deserve to feel proud about.
At the beginning of this "adventure" I was terrified. No, I take that back. Numb is a better word. I was too confused and malnutritioned to think or feel. My brain was one tracked. Thoughts that consisted of numbers: calorie counts, pounds, inches. Dont get me wrong, I loved my six pack. But blindness consumed the reality of my situation. Death was looming.
This has been a process. I should say this is a (still) a process. My body will never look the same to me as it does to others. In my mind, I may always be too big. The difference now is, I have things to live for. Things that got lost in this crazy disorder. Before I felt as if I had no choice. As if self-destruction was an obligation. Now, I am sure that everything is a choice. And that in itself is empowering.
So, Hello summer. Hello books, smiles, sunlight, imperfections, music, thoughts, Big Sky granola, aimless driving, college, immaturity, 45 yellow days, coffee cups/Americanos, sarcasm, green eyes, gestures of love, laughter...
It's nice to see you again.
I dont know how to articulate this. How does someone feel so much and so little at the same time? How do you deal with the past? Should you deal with the past? How do you move on to the future? Or even stay in the present? How can you miss something or someone so much that you can feel it in your bones? How do you look at the pain in someone's eyes and know the right thing to say? Or is listening just enough? How do you deal with yourself and react to people around you at the same time? Why does weather change your mood? Why does smell make you remember? Why do time most beautiful things make you sad? How can pain and joy coexist?
All I know is, you have to believe that it will all turn out okay. If you dont, whats the point? Life happens. Things change and friends leave and life doesnt stop for anyone. Something struck me today as I was watching (500) Days of Summer. It says something about how there are only a handful of days in a person's life that actually mean something. The rest, are just a passing of time. Well, that is a very sad thought to me. I want everyday to have meaning, be something special, memorable. I know that this is realistically and mentally impossible to remember EVERY day ever, but how cool would it be to go out of your way to make every day the absolute most that it can be. I'm afraid I am too shy and awkward to do this. But, it is a good goal to have.
It is a good goal to have especially going into college. And especially because my senior year turned out the way it did. I never intended for things to end up the way that they did. And I missed a lot of things. Some of which I am truly glad that I missed. And some of which I'm very sad that I did. So, my college resolution is to make everything the best that it can be. Work hard to find the good in people and in situations. No matter how bad something seems. Because I have had too many days float away, unnoticed, unmarked and insignificant.
August 18: 836pm
Tonight we had ACED alumni group. Unfortunately Kendall could not make it but, Michelle, Tamara, Lillian and I had a good time. We talked about having the ability to be social in college. Like, not wearing ourselves out with the nonsense that comes with being around most girls. Tamara decided to drop out of her Greek house because of the social pressure that came along with it. That definitely makes me feel more secure in my decision to NOT go Greek. It may be a good way to meet people and get around campus, but it is not something I am willing to do if I am going to feel scrutinized and and lesser-than ... which is what I feel may happen.
Anyways, we talked about ways to stop and get out of our heads. As in, not over-thinking or worrying to much about one particular thing. Which is definitely a hard thing to do, especially lately. What we came up with were simple, practical things like ... leaving the dorm room (or wherever we are stuck) being around people, exercising, reading (for them, I dont do well with that), calling someone.... mostly it boils down to: not being alone and talking. Michelle has free time between 930 and 1230 and on the days I dont work and she doesnt work, we are going to meet at starbucks of for an early lunch. I think that between class, studying for class, work, appointments and socializing, I will have plenty to fill my time with. And I think that will definitely help the food and weight obsessing. I think that all the negative thoughts and negative energy lately has mostly been due to lack of structure, as well as, lack of human contact. I mean, it does wonders for people (especially me) to be around other people. Whether you know them or not. People desire human contact, it is just the way we are programmed. Now, some desire it more than others, but even the "loaners" need other people around at some point. Fuck, even Allen admitted that he doesnt like being alone. And if that arrogant bastard can admit it, then it must be true for all of the human population. Hah.
So, Alex still hasent called. Which is surprising, even by her standards. Its been alomst 10 days since we talked last. And that conversation was minimal, to say the least. It consisted of her telling me she would not be able to make it to the Augustana concert. I sort of have the feeling that she is waiting on me to call; which I can say; it is very doubtful that will happen. We talked semi-extensively about her lack of consistency and well, flakiness. Our plans falling through became more consistent that us actually spending time together. Which hurts, but is not totally unexpected considering the way things went down Junior year. I did not handle any of that the way I should have, but neither did she. Plus, in my defense, I was every into my eating disorder at the time. Following our break-up, my eating disorder is the main thing that I turned to, as well as Brooke, briefly. I think that is about the time that things took a turn for the much worse. I wanted to prove that I had control over, if nothing else, myself. I wanted to be heard. I wanted Brooke and Alex and everyone else that hurt me to see how much they hurt me... I think. I'm not sure that ever happened. Brooke definitely never understood that maybe, in some way, she contributed to my sickness. But then again, she did not understand that she could have had something to do with TAR either. I remember the day that I started the center, I told her where I was (via Facebook) and what was going on. Her response was in typical Brooke fashion,
August 18: 518pm
I was thinking back through the past few years. How little I remember. And how sad that makes me. I remember bits and pieces of 8th grade. Mostly the fights, sadness, getting in trouble and confusion. But I also remember how dependent I was on Brooke. Something I have been feeling a lot lately. Something that I do not enjoy feeling, not just regarding Brooke but, with people in general. And I think my desire to be as independent as I can in the present and in the future, stems directly from what depending on other did to me in the past. It made me hurt more than I can ever put into words. Ultimately it made me sick. But, it also made me the person I am today. Which is, as I understand from others, strong, smart and independent ... for the most part.
I think the desire to be accepted, wanted and approved by Brooke and people like Brooke will always be with me. It will be with me to the extent that I do not not set boundaries and become self-supporting. That is not to say I want to become some cold, hard bitch that can not accept love from others but, that I know where and when to let people get close to me. And the other big part of it is, not letting every damn fool get close to me. Having enough sense to stop, evaluate a person and their actions, and say "hey, emily, this person may not be the best choice of a friend." I have a lot of practice with crazies, I just have to have enough faith in myself that I will pick good, kind, non manipulative people for myself to become emotionally involved with. And I do not mean anything by "emotional" other than; making an effort and giving part of myself to someone in order to have a relationship with them. I believe that when you decide to be friends with someone you have to give them part of yourself otherwise the relationship will never, ever work.
August 18: 1241pm
I mean, what the fuck am I doing with myself? Absolutely nothing. Nothing. I dont really know if I am ready for this hole college deal. Actually, I dont really know if I am ready for this hole Life deal. I used to feel like I knew what I wanted and what I was doing and whatever. Now, I am just sad. Where in the world did this sadness come from. Other than the extreme weight gain and immense amount of change currently taking place. Not to mention the seeming loss of everyone around me that I love. I feel isolated and distant and unconnected from those people, from that world, from myself.
I dont want to go to college feeling like an extreme fuck up, or socially retarded youth who doesnt have the slightest idea about herself or the world in which she craves to form around her. That doesnt even make sense.
Right now, all I want is out and away. From here. But mostly from myself. I spend the majority of the morning screwing around on the computer wallowing in my own self pity. Around 230 my cell phone rang and it was Dr. Ryals. He asked what was wrong and I was confused. He said Mom was really worried and asked if I had talked to her today. ... Which I had not. So..
Last night, actually yesterday in general, just sucked. In fact, the past few days have just not sat well with me. Anyways, yesterday was particularly difficult. And since my eating disorder has been failing as of late, I resorted to older versions of my self destructive behavior. Rebecca walked in my room and sat down on the floor and first saw the razorblade then my arm. After that I decided to leave the house for a while because... I get a bit stir crazy.
Anyways, Back to Dr. Ryals. Apparently Rebecca went and told mom, mom emailed Dr. Ryals, Dr. Ryals called me, confused me, questioned me, increased my medication faster, and scheduled another appointment next week. I'm not exactly sure what to think about all of this. At first I was sad and angry. Then I was like what the? ... It was as scratch, forreal. Like, not worth making any deal about. And now, I just dont give. Atall. Moved on.
And speaking of moving on, this is something I desperately need to work on. Moving on from things in the past, moving on from upsets in the present, and even moving on from worrying about things that have yet to happen. I realized lately that I worry entirely too much. Mostly about things that are completely out of my control. And the things that I worry about that I do have control over, I never do anything about because I waste my time and energy on worry. Worrying instead of actually fixing or doing something about the issue. How lame.
While I am aware of this lack of productivity in the worrying department, I still fail to do anything. Like today for example, I felt like shiiiit. And I do know ways to fix it. Or at least to try. Honestly, just getting out of the house, being around other human beings, I already feel better. And this could have been taken care of hours ago. Instead, I sulked. I judged myself and my actions. Boo for that. I need to start a list of things to work on to "better" myself.
1. Work on ENJOYING food. Take the time to prepare, sit down, focus and nourish.
2. Work on changing negative thoughts. Specifically judgement of actions and body. Judgements of food, clothing, personality. If unable to change thought, stop thinking about it. It does no good.
3. Stop worrying so damn much. Worry about the things that I can actually help. Things such as my school work, my friends who I chose to surround myself with, how I treat my body. Stop worrying about things like the number on the scale, what I am wearing or how much weight I have gained. Still, it is doing no good.
Well, I am tired of writing about myself. I like this whole writing thing though. As I understand it, it is more cathartic (P.S. i had to look up the definition of cathartic) to use a pen and paper. But, I enjoy the way typing feels. It is faster and easier to get out what is in your head that with pen and papier.
Speaking of papier. or paper as Americans call it, I am really actually looking forward to my French Deux. I'm looking forward to using my brain for something other than worrying, self-analyzing and watching small children.
August 17: 452pm
Today has been a complete and utter disaster. I have done absolutely nothing today other than mope and practice terrible eating disordered behaviors, cry and feel sorry for myself. Other than the fact that I should not have weighed myself this morning, I'm not really sure what has compelled me into this state of depressive anxiety. I think the weather has something to do with it. The good news is, I do not have to drag my ass out of bed to go and watch some small, potty-training children in the morning. That is a definite plus to my week.
All I want is to get out of my head, out of this house, into the world. I want to be a speck of sand in the ocean. Fluid, constantly changing, adapting. I want to be. I want to experience. I want to see, taste, smell, experience the wonders that I know this world has. I always seem to be in a different place than these wonders. Or maybe I'm just not very good at looking in front of myself. That must be it.
Maybe all I need is to move, find some sense of myself, remember, write the next great American novel, become famous (not in a "sell-out" sense of the word) retire young, and travel. Okay thats the plan. I'll get right on it.
August 17: 9pm
So, this evening I was reading the Menu For The Future which is required for BSC. We will be taking a class on it later in the Fall. It was discussing how Americans have lost the realization that, because they eat food, they are part of the agricultural industry. The eating is the end of the production/growth process. Americans are, to say the least, uninformed about where they food comes from and what it when through to get to their table ... or t.v. tray. The book also talks about the loss of formality to eating, the loss of customs, personality, preparation... It has all disappeared with fast food, pre cooked, frozen meals of the like. This is incredibly and astonishingly true. Growing up, we sat down to a home cooked meal at least 5 days out of the week. Now, we all eat at separate times, prepare or heat up our own meals.No thought goes into where the food we are eating comes from, how it was produced or processed, and what additions have been put in. Gross. As I was reading this, I thought about the book French Women Don't Get Fat which I was also reading lately. French women eat small, beautiful, colorful portions, they do not go back for seconds, they walk a lot more than most Americans, and most importantly, each meal is something to be savored... as well as the food. They eat slowly and enjoy themselves. It is a family affair which sometimes lasts for hours. Now, how amazing would it be to live in France?
Okay, I realize that America is a relatively new country. It truly is the "melting pot" of the world. But what I dont understand is, with all the different cultures that meshed together how did America end up with absolutely no idea how to fucking feed themselves? There were French, German, Italian, Japanese ... And now a days we rely on McDonalds as our premium nutritional source? It has become acceptable, if not the "norm" to eat in the car, library, shopping mall, in front of the T.V. Really anywhere other than the kitchen table.
Well, I do not believe that this is a sustainable way of life. As proven by the rapid obesity increase over the past decade.
So, what I am getting at is, I realized that I can sit around and bitch and moan and play the "poor, woah is me" act. Or I can discontinue my insane concern with the number on my scale, at least for a while, continue to exercise consistently, feed myself regularly, use food that I am "informed" about as much as possible, prepare my food, sit down, breathe, relax, make it theatrical if at all possible, and for fuck sake, enjoy.
Enjoy. Enjoy? Can I do that? I dont know. I truly have absolutely no idea if I have the capability to "enjoy" what I am eating. Enjoy: to take delight and pleasure in. Can I do that without judging the caloric content or what it might do to my body? What if I took the time to actually enjoy what I was eating rather than over-thinking the entire process. I dont know. But, I'd like to find out. So, for the next 12 days I am going to work on enjoying whatever it is I decide to put into my mouth. I will do it with minimal judgement and analyzing. Because, the truth is, I honestly enjoy foods that are good for me. Fruits, vegetables, nuts, whole grains. I like them. The difficult part will come in with the self-dispisal and critiquing.
In other news, last night Allen treated Stephanie like total shit. And I am a pro at recognizing shitty treatment. Hah. He is selfish and arrogant and purely self concerned. And he hurt Stephanie. She called me on her way home last night and began crying because of it. Tonight, she is acting like none of it happened. She said that they may even have plans after the store closes. This annoys me. Reason one: He is an asshole and does not treat her the way she deserves. He is self-praising in the worst way. Reason two: It reminds me of the way I have been treated in the past. You have a fall out or fight with someone but as soon as they are okay and over it, their world goes back to normal. All is well if they are happy. And you are left picking up the pieces of your soul, heart and emotions. It annoys me because I realize that I let multiple people treat me like this over the years. Not consistently, obviously. There had to be some appeal, some give and take for me to become involved with them in the first place. But, once I became attached and "needed" them, they had the ability to walk all over me while I tell them that I deserve it and beg for forgiveness. How the fuck did I manage that for so damn long?
You see, I dont have to eat a goddamned thing if I dont want to.This decision is mine. My health and my body are mine. They are in my control. I am tired. I am tired of being fat, of feeling ugly, of living in this house, of living without control and most of all, I am tired of feeling alone, lesser than, unworthy. And I do. I feel like that every damn day. It is not a constant feeling. There are brief lapses of minutes, hours, sometimes if I am lucky, days. Lapses where I do not look in the mirror and despise the person, the body that I see in front of me. I have not been able to understand why this happens. I can not capture whatever it is that makes me see something differently, if only for a second.
And then there is the rest, or majority of the time. I crave, almost beg to be around others. I do not feel that I deserve the friendship of others. I do not feel that I am a good enough person to deserve the friendship of decent human beings. Why? Because nearly every experience I have had thus far has led me to believe that I deserve the shit that I come into contact with. Be it: emotionally abusive relationships, being sent away at 14, being cheated on, being screwed over by entire school systems, being pulled and manipulated, self mutilation or an eating disorder (which are one in the same.) But hear this; it is not a "poor me" type situation because I believe I truly deserved these things. Most of them I feel I brought on myself.
So how does this relate to my eating? Well, I do not have the power to control others, unfortunately. Hah. I do not have the ability to see the future to prepare myself for unfortunate events. What I do have control over seems few and far between. I will be moving out soon so my control over things will increase. But right now as well as the last few years; minus the time I was in treatment; I have had control over what does or does not go into my mouth. There was a period of time where I was eating 300-400 calories a day. And I felt like everything in the world was in my control. The immediate time leading up to my entering the Center was an out of control time. Bulimia is a very out of control feeling. But, I believe malnutrition drove my impulsive and delusional self.
Today I sit here, feeling totally alone, contemplating the affectiveness of starvation. I have seen it work before. On me, on others. At this time in my life I definitely feel a loss of control. Everyone I care about the most is unable or unwilling to be around. I am about to enter college with a bunch of people I do not know. I, as proven lately, do not have control over the number on the scale. And that, more than anything, is driving me crazy. The self-hatred I feel for myself and my body seems to be rising at an alarming rate. I know that this feeling comes and goes. It is a cyclical thing for most individuals. But most people can reason themselves out of it, tell themselves they are good, deserving people. I cant even wear a size 6, I dont deserve a damn thing.
I dont remember ever weighing this much in my entire life. Or if i did, it was quickly tamed by anorexia. Even with as sick as I became, I still miss it. The journey of losing extreme amounts of weight is an exciting one, especially to someone who craves control as much as I do. During the time of being in my lower weight range I can honestly say that I enjoyed my body. I loved being that small. Which makes it even harder to be as big as I am now. I loved being able to wear whatever I wanted. I loved being smaller than my younger sister, being carried around, feeling like I had accomplished some great human feat. Now, I realize, this all plays directly into my self loathing as my weight increases. And what seems to be the even bigger problem, I cant do anything about it. I exercise, I eat less, and my weight either increases or stays the same.
Originally, I did not know what I was doing in terms of my eating disorder. I never imagined that I would end up looking, acting and feeling the way I did. I never imagined I would spend my senior year of high school in a treatment facility. Never. Now, self-awareness is what makes self-destruction so difficult. I know what I am doing, I know what could happen. But, it is currently very difficult for me to say that is not what I want. Right now, that is exactly what I want. Control in the form of starvation and bones. All I want is to extend that lapse time in which I do not despise myself.
If I were my own therapist, I would say "Emily, what is it that you are avoiding by using food as a coping mechanism. What problems are you unwilling to face. What is really going on. Because, you know, food and weight are not the real issues."
Well, right now they are. I am fat. I am ugly. I am going to the lake in four days and start college in fifteen. And as for the other issues, my therapist and friend is sick, out of town, and I havent seen her in a three weeks. My "best friend" is an unreliable flake and has not called in over a week. My ex and the one person I actually want to spend time around wont give me the time of day. Others I care about are moving away to their college lives. No wonder I feel alone and unworthy.