Disappearing

Disappearing

            My eating disorder stemmed from many different places. One place for me was the want to be transparent in my environment. I wanted to not cause problems or stir up dust, and I did not want any sort of target on me. I felt that by being large or needing anything made me have a target on me. My eating disorder began primarily in this area, I wanted to shrink and not be a target, and I wanted to not need as much.

If I were to ‘reappear,’ I feel that I would cause chaos. I feel that my eating disorder has kept me from having to play a role in the toxic dynamics of my family. If I reappear I will have to somehow play into these dynamics, or abandon them, which would emotionally wreck me. With the eating disorder I can hold somewhat of an ‘Idle,’ status in this and not have to choose between those two options.

I feel that if I am “seen,” I will instantly be expected to play into the dynamics; I will no longer be ‘sick,’ and ‘incapable,’ of taking a spot in the sick games of my parents. While growing up, I was often forced into picking a side, holding secrets, and taking verbal and emotional abuse. I still have felt and been dealt these with my eating disorder, but it numbs me to an extent that I no longer suffer as much as I did when I was fully emotionally equipped to deal with this.

I feel stuck in this eating disorder because I do not want to deal with making any of those decisions I placed above.

          Another aspect of my ‘disappearing,’ act, is that it causes disruption in the dynamic of my family, where I used to play a vital role, there is now an empty void. This forces my family to acknowledge there is an issue. If I played back into the dynamic I would be giving up on the power I have over the void that I have placed.

The changes this void has created are situations such as, when my parents have a fight, my mother no longer will threaten suicide, she no longer will scream obscenities for hours on end, and does not come to me crying to tell me how she wants to die, by not having me as a crutch and there to stop her from her suicide threats, she has been forced to deal with her problems in a more appropriate and ADULT manner. I used to feel like the adult in situations like this because I had to take care of her so much. I love my mother, I want to care for her, and I have found that she has changed dramatically since the eating disorder entered the household and I don’t want her to go back.

Basically, I feel like my eating disorder has created an imbalance in the dynamic, and I am just waiting for some sort of revelation to happen, and I feel scared to give this up.

People Pleasing

For me People Pleasing allows me to have somewhat of a chameleon effect on my surroundings and environment. I do not like to cause any sort of negative reaction in any person. Therefore I often find myself “people pleasing.”
At times it certainly becomes just part of who I am as a person, because I am so focused on pleasing that I forget to be me. This often causes me to forget what is best for my own well being and I take things internally and destruct in self damaging manners, such as an eating disorder or self harm.
I can still be nurturing to others and care for me, but I just don’t know how yet this would work. I think that it would be a combination of establishing boundaries, and allowing negative reactions.

The Weight of it all

The weight of it all.

What a phrase? Weight restoration is so hard. When I first got into treatment they had a hard time getting my body to begin gaining weight. But now on 2800-3000+ calories a day, some coming from a nutritional protein shake, I am restoring weight. They say I am still underweight, but I do not know how this is possible as I see myself as quite "fat," and am resistant to gain any more. 

I am dying to know my weight. I NEED to know.

But yet do I? I do not. No I don't need to know this information because it would only torment me more. I am slowly, very slowly learning new tools.

God, I hope this works.

This image reminds me that I am whole. This woman has no leg, she is not skin and bones, but strong and full as a person. She inspires me just looking at this image, it is very powerful.

Treatment

Have not written on here in quite a long time.

As I write, I sit in the backyard at a residential treatment center in Nevada for my anorexia/bulimia. The eating disorder was killing me. My live revolved between the kitchen, the bathroom, drive-thrus, and the gym. I had no friends, no future, and 24/7 of my life was dedicated to binging, purging, and starving. 

So I have embarked on this adventure of "recovery," despite my previous hatred for the term and action. I initiall thought recovery meant fat, and meant failing. Squishy, flabby thighs and a roll covered stomach. But I have come to decided that a chance at a life is worth becoming "fat." I know logically I have never been close to overweight, and I won't get there in treatment, but I cannot let go of the overwhelming fear that I am. I already feel fat and have been here for 7 weeks. My nutritionist here, who is a mad scientist with her calculations and is one of the smartest people I've met, told me I was "hard to look at," and "need to restore weight." So I am trying to put my faith into this program and believe that eventually it will all work out. I am on a pretty astronomical calorie amount.

Example day of my eating here:

-3 eggo waffles with a light smear of margarine, an apple, a cup of soymilk, and 2 tblsp of jam.

-A protien nutrition ice cream made shake, with crackers and cheese.

-A whole sandwich with cheese, miracle whip, tofurkey, and veggies, with cheetos, a cup of soymilk, and a side of applesauce

-A costco muffin

-4 oz. of Chikn nuggets, with a cup and a half of macaroni and cheese.

And it varies day to day. But I feel as if I am going to BURST at the end of each day. I cannot even straighten my spine some days. I have really fucked up my body. My intestines don't absorb food right, my stomach hurts like hell, I can't shit. Bulimia really fucked with it all in there. But they say it is a process and will get better. I must or I think I'll really just...pop.

My mottos since coming here have been:

"Ride the wave,"

"Just do it," 

"It will pass."

All are great to say at meal times, and just in general. Treatment is hard, but this time I am dedicated to get my life fucking back. I don't give a damn if I end up "Fat," at least I will be ME, and alive.