How The Fuck Am I? How the Fuck Are You?

I've always had an issue with the question "How are you?"
Generally this is a very nice thing to say to someone, but if you say it to me, I will not be happy with you. This is because I am ... I don't know. That's the problem. It's not that I'm not happy, it's that I don't know what I am, I am every emotion, every minute a different one. I cry a lot, let's start with that.

Everything makes me cry. As soon as I have to stop my routine, my constant doing, listing, thinking about what I did, what I didn't do, and what I have to do, I fill up and I want to explode. I don't know why and I don't know what to do to calm down, all I know is I need relief. 

I picture it like this. But more tornado-y and in a very sterile, high-tech building. It's just me, this ball of color, loud, vibrant, swirling and nothing around me, nothing to latch onto or to anchor me.

(These are underwater ink plumes documented by Italian photographer Alberto Seveso)

It's ironic because this is beautiful, and my recovery self tells me that all of these emotions and confusion is actually beautiful because it is life. And I am FEELING because I'm alive and blah blah blah.

The anguish I feel and the racing thoughts, and hyper-sensitive body response (getting really hot, clenching my jaw, muscle tension) is actually information, it's telling me something. If only I could calm down long enough to listen to it.

But generally that scares me. Calming down requires to look at what's happening. And I do not want to poke the beast (ED). It generally makes me very mean, makes me regret my actions and I'm constantly left trying to please it. It is never satisfied however.

Even now, as I try to make sense of this so publicly, so honestly trying to see what is going on, it's getting mad because I seemingly cannot do it. I can keep typing and keep pushing and searching and asking questions and I do not have the answers. And the shame of not knowing. Of being so lost in this seemingly endless turmoil is just so exhausting. And then I don't even remember what happened or why I am so upset in the first place and I feel more out of touch with myself and life. More lost. More far gone. Worthless.

If I try to go get ice cream because I thought I craved it. It will tell me it's not ok, I'm at my highest weight since recovery and I better not go over. I should be running away from the ice cream, in fact run home fat ass. 

Then it will tell me that I'm weak for not knowing how to just eat ice cream like people do every day. I'm pathetic for breaking down in the grocery store again. And I'm selfish for asking my boyfriend drive me there before he had dinner. So I succumb and I go workout. And yet the physical release and exhaustion helps. . . was I just giving into it or was I helping myself? The thoughts, and the tornado pick up again. . .

Another thing I am is anxious. Constantly. To the point of where I feel the need to finish everything that is in front of me. You text me I have to answer then. I get a like on Facebook I have to investigate. And when I go online I remember that I didn't contact the bank. And that I need to see if I got a measles shot. And oh I have a work email. And I never cleaned my dishes. I should brush my teeth. Is it time to eat yet. Oh ya my food journal. It never stops. I haven't slept well in weeks. 

I am also sick, I'm sick and tired of making everything an ordeal. I can't just make my boyfriend dinner, I have to tell him how it makes me feel, how he should feel and how I am justified in my feelings. I will leave the room and then come back in to tell him more of my thoughts. In reality I realize I'm just trying to get them all out so they can no longer be stuck in my head. In doing this I then feel guilty for once again bothering him with these things, because I do this with everything. 

But I can't seem to help it. I can't be without spinning inside my head and I'm exhausted. I just want to be. I want to be left alone. What's the answer? Why can't I just figure out the answer? What is so wrong with me? 

I ask that question a lot. And with therapy I'm slowly finding the answers. It seems as though I've become a very anxious person in order to ignore the sinking hole inside of me. The tornado distracts from the imploding that's happening underneath it. 

But learning that each emotion I have is valid, and has a purpose helps. I'm learning to hold different parts of myself, the tornado part and the sinking hole, and still find myself within it. I'm learning to make room for that self-doubting, critical voice. Separating it from myself has really helped, well kind of haha 

I was never really taught how to deal with emotions when it was important. I was met with silence, or anger, or frustration (and this is because of how my parents were taught to deal with emotion). Then the eating disorder manifested, helping me to 'cope' showing me distraction from the emotions--relief in twisted way. And now 13 years later with a couple of years of hard work in recovery I feel as though I've only scratched the surface. Only now learning to just be aware of all the things I'm doing out of habit and only just now being aware of all I do to distract. The dealing with them part seems so far off. The normal part of life seems so far off. 

And that's where I'm at.

Also, I need to build my support system back up. If you feel inclined to reach out to me I would greatly appreciate it.