A Year Ago Today

You know when just a little something, an image, a place, a smell, an outfit whips your mind back to another time? This weekend that's happened to me so many times. It was a year ago during Capitol Hill Block Party that I started diligently digging towards my bottom that had me admitting I needed to go to a treatment facility for my alcoholism and bulimia.

I was binge drinking and eating nonstop. I was out of control and it was a rush. After years of controlling my food, my exercise, my money, my life I was screaming fuck you to the rules I had created. I couldn't believe the terrible things I was doing to myself and that I could still keep going. How much further could I go? How many more times could I make myself throw up? How early could I start drinking. What combinations could I do? How flirtatious could I be? How much attention could I get? How much money could I blow on booze, food, people?

I wrote this a year ago:

"My knees hurt from the tile. My left hand clasps the porcelain, while my right has teeth marks on it. My heart races.
Just keep going. You did this to yourself. The cake I ate ten minutes ago fills the toilet while relief fills my head.

I finish, brush my teeth and stop to look at myself in the mirror. I've popped blood vessels in my face, they look like freckles. My mascara is running down my face. I leave the bathroom in disgust.

I try to write.

I can't. I'm shaking too badly. Tears fill my eyes.

I do what I don't want to-I call my sponsor.

"I've done it again. I drank last night. I didn't want to. I over ate last night. I didn't want to. I ate a cake this morning. I didn't want to. I threw it up. I didn't want to. I called you. I didn't want to."

Deep breath.

"I want help.""

Damn am I a good writer.

So now of course I get reflective.

I cannot write words of total recovery, of health, of victory over addiction.

Because I was doing exactly what I wrote a year ago this time yesterday. I binge ate and threw up until 6 PM when relief came by having to go meet friends to see A-Track at this year's Block Party. A year ago I don't think I would have left the house out of hurt, shame and pure addiction and selfishness. Going to meet them was a relief and the only thing that kept me from continuing to just eat until I hurt and get rid of it. Not knowing why I can't stop, what made me think it was once again a good idea to start.

While I'm not recovered yet I am in a much better place.
I am 60 days sober today.
I have been through partial hospitalization treatment for my bulimia, intensive outpatient and now outpatient.
I have been getting help through AA for my drinking.
I have more good days than bad.
I have a real relationship with my mom and a growing one with my dad.
I have become a better person, less selfish.
I hold four jobs when this time last year I lost one and could barely show up for another.
I have a steady boyfriend that I'm there for, present for and honest with.

However, I still have deep shame for my body. I am 20 lbs heavier than I was. I see and feel the weight and grit my teeth. I cannot look at myself in the mirror unless the angle is just right the light flattering and I have enough makeup on. I put pictures up online of when I feel pretty to hopefully get a boost from my super close facebook friends (yes that's sarcasm) that I am in fact ok - pretty, worthy.

I am still seeking attention from guys to make myself feel once again worthy, important, desirable. I am not getting that satisfaction from myself.

My priorities are still my looks over all else but now I'm starting to make room for being a good person. Measuring my success not by my weight but by how many people I can help.

If this is how far I've come in a year, I can't imagine the words of hope and wisdom I'll have in another year. I won't give up, I can't.

I have you all that have reached out to me and given me kind words of encouragement and understanding to thank for much of my perseverance.

I now have faith and knowledge that what I cannot do for myself will be done for me if I keep believing and asking for help. I'm living proof of it.

Checking In

This is a letter I wrote to my therapist and dietician this morning. I haven't seen them in two weeks, nor have I said one word to them. 

"I feel like we are friends who had a slight falling out and I'm not sure how to approach you again. Or where I stand.

But that's crazy. 

I've twisted being away from treatment into this huge thing that's creating me a lot of anxiety.

I wanted to prove to you all that I could do it on my own (not that you ever dared me to). That I could just do AA and not have behaviors and be free finally.

Wellit hasn't gone that way. I've had ups and downs but more downs I'd say. I've BP at work two days in a row causing me to not finish my work. I have felt like even though I know what the right thing to do is I can't stop doing the wrong. I know that I can't just deter from my meal plan for a buffet at work for a moment to pretend like I'm normal. But I did it anyway. 

I see myself doing things that I shouldn't do, like stealing, bingeing, trying to get on the light rail for free, running red lights on my bike and I feel I can't stop. Each choice makes me more mad at myself and watch the negative pile up and the failures so I can't see the good.

I'm a bit calmer now but the past couple of days I've just been upset and not known why or how to fix it or feel my feelings which pisses me right off.

I haven't followed my meal plan, I haven't been exercising, I haven't been going to AA, I haven't been talkign to anyone about what's wrong and it's left me miserable. I don't know how many fuckign times I'm going to have to go through this until I get it through my head that this is no way to live but it looks like I had to do it once more.

I feel out of control. Who knows how much I weigh now. I know it's gone up. I can feel the rolls on my stomach and sides when I do things like bend over or curl up to sleep that weren't there before. I had an illusive control when I was doing ED behaviors regularly like over eating, under eating, exercising compulsively but now I don't have that illusion and since I can't do what I used to do to feel in control I feel even more out of control.

I hope this makes sense.

But what does make me feel calm now is getting to work on time, helping other people, eating on my meal plan, keeping my room clean, hanging out with friends, working out normally and i've been doing that too I just have let the negative over shadow everything again. So I guess I'm ok now. It's just when I think of my weight and how much I've fucked up for so long I can't bear it and want to just run and run until there's nothing left of me, nothing left to feel or see or hate."

Thanks for reading.

Inventory

I haven't written in a while because I was so happy then I was so sad.

I'm coming off a week long binge after a week long of not bingeing and before that it was a week long binge.

So much money wasted and time on eating and throwing up-I disgust myself.

Anyway, I felt compelled to write-not about the above but about what I'm doing right now.

I'm doing an inventory on my life up until now. I'm listing out resentments, fears and people / places I've harmed.

I resent over 300 people. Going through my facebook friends alone got me most of them but my God I had no idea I was this jealous, bitter and angry at people...especially my dearest friends.

Every girl who is happily married (not sure why I am jealous of that), who is thinner than me, in better shape, has a fiance, has a job I want, who was once my friend but doesn't talk to me anymore, any guys I dated or thought should be more interested in me and show me more attention...I AM STILL UPSET AT THEM.

And half the shit I'm saying is my own opinion and not facts, like "She's prettier than me. She's happier than me. She thinks she's better than me. He talks to her more than me."

I've have created so much hate in myself that it's clouded my head and my perception. It's blocking me from moving forward.

I will share them with a trusted friend so these resentments and fears are no longer inside of me, no longer holding me back.

Also, I've realized I'm petrified of losing my job, getting a new job, trying to get a new job, trying to be sexy, trying on jeans, being overweight (we knew that one), of never being good enough, of everyone else's opinion, that I'm never going to figure this out, that everyone has it better than me, that I'm missing out on something, that I'm not doing enough...etc

And the hardest one is going back through not the people that hurt me (the kids that spray painted WHORE in my lawn, the girls in the 6th grade that called me Super Bitch, my "best friends" that wrote shit about me anonymously online, my parents who never got me help) but rather those I have hurt.

The best friends whose guys I've taken, the boy friend I cheated on, the guys I moved onto one to the next without a break, the ones I used so I could feel important and get attention, all of the times I've made my family late for something because I was working out or staring at myself in the mirror.

All of my shame, fears, worst traits have been brought up lately and it's really fucking overwhelming.

I know it'll get better after this but it sucks listing over 300 things that make you a bad person. But I guess we're all flawed and I'm doing something right by doing something about it.

The Fat Girl

I just got home from the gym.

I was there since about 5 PM it's 8:30 PM now.

I'm having a hard time.

It all started this evening when I walked into the gym and saw myself in a full-length mirror. I avoid these since they make me cry. I do not want to see what I look like now that I'm at my highest weight ever.

But I saw my thighs jiggle with each step. And I thought to myself "seriously? It's that bad?"

Once in the locker room I pass the scale then go back to it.
I must know.

Has all this bingeing and purging lately really pushed me even higher?

I step on and the bright blue numbers climb, past my lowest weight of 120 and reaches up to 153 lbs. More than the last time I had a break down.

I do not give into the lump in my throat. I cannot work out if I am crying.

I go to the more scientific scale and it confirms it. 153 lbs. I go up the stairs feeling everything shake with each step.

I start my workout. I don't know when it's going to stop but this is the only thing I can do to keep from having a gigantic embarrassing meltdown at the gym.

I push myself harder and longer. And I even get the courage to do weights. I never do these because I'm afraid someone will tell me I'm doing them wrong or laugh at the fat girl trying to get fit. "She'd be pretty if only she toned up." "I'm so glad I didn't let myself go like she did." I imagine the people saying to me.

I keep my head down out of shame. I do not want to be looked at but nothing will stop me from burning more calories.

I start to do what I think is an innovative move when I feel the eyes of someone watching me. I stop and look at him—read to rip is head off. When I see it's this slightly creepy older trainer.

He asks me what I'm doing. I told him I saw it in a movie where this skinny white chick kicked this big black girl's ass (Does anyone know what movie I'm talking about?! I think Queen Latifah is in it). He looks at me like I'm weird and tells me how to do it better. Then asks what do I want to do?

I said well obviously I need to lose weight and get rid of these (as I grab my thighs). He just smiles and doesn't tell me no. In that small moment he just confirmed my fears—that I really am fat and that I am losing control and it's finally happening. People said "you'll never get fat" and bam there you go.

He had me do other exercises that I couldn't do without falling over not offering any encouragement making me feel worse and worse about myself with each one. I even tell him I have an eating disorder and he isn't fazed nor does he say anything condoning like people usually do.

We go on until I give in to do a session with him even though that's the last thing on earth I want to do.

I update my status in a sad desperate cry for help. I need compliments. I need reassurance. And I also want to publicly humiliate myself for actually being fat now. I want to try to punish myself, embarrass myself into losing weight. By telling you all I am fat hopefully that'll bully me into not bingeing anymore.

People responded with two very good reasons as to why he targeted me:

1.       He wants my money

2.       He wants my fat ass

He did stay he's newly divorced but this dude was such a square there's no way he was hitting on me.

But the damage is done and I'm reminded of when people did talk to me in the gym.

When I was thin they would ask me what I ate, what my workouts were like, more than once I was asked to model, fitness model as well as do fitness competitions.

Now…no one says anything to me. Not just at the gym but in every day. No one asks me what diet I'm on. No one says "you're so skinny you bitch!" No one says they wish look like me.

It's very nice when people compliment me on good old Facebook but I can't help but think it's out of pity. Also, no one really sees me anymore so no, they don't know what I really look like now and that yes I'm heavy.

I'm just so confused. I want to believe them that I'm not fat. That I'm gorgeous. That I'm still desirable. But I can't see it.

It's really sad and disgusting that this is what matters most to me. On my way home I had to walk my bike up Pike and I passed girls that were prettier than me and women that were straight up homeless and fuckin ugly, women that were severely overweight but who do I care about? The girls whose thighs don't touch the ones who are thin, the ones that wear the pants I wish I could if I could fit into them.

I know I could have cancer, I could be homeless, I could have a family tragedy but this is sadly what matters most to me and that makes me feel even worse about myself.

I wish I could stop hating myself. I wish I could either get skinny or get the fuck over it. I want a life. I want to not live by these rules and regulations and to constantly every second have to fight.

But here I am at 9 PM and I can't bring myself to eat dinner and am wishing I could have toughed it out at the gym longer. Here I am catering to the very thing that's killing me.

Thanks for reading as always, it really means so much to me.

The World Ended Last Night

I thought my world ended last night.
I thought I couldn't bear to go on another second in this body, in this way.

But I woke up this morning dehydrated, swollen and exhausted.

Looks like my world didn't end.

Last night I had my monthly breakdown.
But this one scared me more than the others.
I didn't think it was possible to hate myself more than I did the day before but that's what happened.

I was having a wonderful week. The promises of AA and early sobriety started to come true. I was feeling free and happy. I was also following my meal plan. Having a treat if I wanted to / when I wanted to. I wasn't drinking. I wasn't forcing myself to workout. It felt like I was starting to have a life.

Then 'reality' hit me and hit me hard.

I just casually went to try on pants and after 15 pairs not a one fit. A couple were too big but mostly they were too small, one size large wouldn't even go over my calf for goodness sakes. With every pair I would get this false hope that maybe this size 11 / 13 would prove Ed wrong. Maybe this one will fit and make me feel better. It didn't happen.

My mind began to race. Fuck. What the fuck have I been doing eating what I want? Not restricting? Not working out? I had to see the ultimate determinate. My weight.

I went to my gym and weighed myself and I saw the blue florescent light scream 152 lbs at me.

This is the most I've weighed in my entire life.

I lost it.

I walked home crying and as soon as I hit the door I sobbed, heaved, snotted, screamed at nothing. I couldn't stop scraping at my legs and arms and stomach saying "get off of me, get off of me."

Everything I've been told has been a lie. Treatment AA my friends etc. I was consistently gaining weight and I'd much rather have a size 6 slip off of me than a 13 stay at my calves. How could I have believed them? What the fuck have I done to myself? I can't go anywhere. I can't get rid of this fat immediately. What the fuck am I going to do?

I was scared I would actually hurt myself so I got my sponsor to come over.
She told me to pray but I couldn't move onto my knees because I couldn't stand my thighs touching one another.

She eventually got me calm down. I know that not eating won't REALLY help but I don't know what will. That is a hopeless and scary feeling.

After about an hour of me freaking out into exhaustion, she left and I felt hopeful, calm.
I talked to ChaCha and told him I was fine-which I thought I was.

I went to get Powerade and then the next thing I know I'm eating anything and everything in my house and what I bought at the store.
And you know the rest.

I look at the clock as I clean up. It's 12:30 AM.

I am going to be late for work tomorrow. I'm going to feel like shit. Fuck I did it again. Fuck me. Seriously fuck me. I'm so fucking done. I complain about how I don't want to gain anymore weight and what do I do? I eat.

I'm so so so so sick of this cycle. And you've heard me say that and I'm sick of saying it. But since it's a cycle I have to break it. I have to do something different. However, doing something different is easier than said (obvi or else I would have done it now).

I've tried changing my diet, writing signs on my cabinets, drinking, not drinking, working out everyday, not working out everyday, putting a bathing suit in my kitchen, treatment centers, checking in after every meal...etc you name it. I've tried it.

But everything I've tried have all been tangible things. Human things. The one I haven't really tried is something that I can't see - a power greater than myself.

I've tried going to church and believing what I heard but that didn't work.

In AA I'm learning that I can make my own conception of a God. I need to give him my struggles and my urges because I know I'm powerless over them. And supposedly He isn't.

Phew that's a lot. Thanks for reading. Happy Hump Day!

WAH It's Not Fair.

So I'm about to eat this de-lic-ious salad I made for myself for dinner that's totally on my meal plan and not skimping on anything when I get this sudden urge to check my email and see if I got an answer from this place I interviewed at.

It's the first and only place I've interviewed at since starting a small half-assed job hunt but it was AWESOME. Totally lax all about work hard play hard but go home at quitting time. And it was TWO blocks from my house.

I asked my lead to be a reference for it and she said she would which was awesome.

Next thing I know I'm asked to interview and I tell my lead I'm going to go in for one. That's when she tells me they've been talking to her about a job there too.

"Oh."

My head went a million places and my heart dropped. Well she works super hard and deserves another job so let me swallow my jealously and wish her the best-which I did.

Then two days later I'm off to my interview and she tells me she's already interviewed and gotten the job.

Fuck.

Seriously?

Jealousy rears its head. I start to shake. My heart drops again and my head races.

Wait. If she got one doesn't that mean I have an in then?

I went off to the interview feeling good. I thought I killed it and came back feeling great. Work was easier to go to thinking it wouldn't be that much longer.

But then the week went on and I didn't hear from anyone. And while I'm planning my lead's going away party and buying her goodies in the back of my head I am so spiteful.

I don't want to be. But I am human. And well no I'm not just spiteful. I'm pissed.

I found that company. I got her that in and does she thank me? No. Does she tell me she went for an interview? No.

Fuck that.

Now I just read the dreaded email saying I didn't have enough experience and I'm no longer being considered. My heart hurts. I feel sick to my stomach. And I want to take it out on my lead.

Which makes NO sense at all.

She deserves the job she got, she's a great lead and what was she supposed to do say no?

But I have this anger and I don't know where to place it. I'm frustrated that I can't get another job because I've only had one real big girl job but I'm not happy where I am.

It's like saying to your kid in order to get a car you've got to get a job, but in order to get to said job you've got to have a car.

Fuck man.

People at work drop like flies. I just planned a going away bash for 4 people. And I can't get a job?

RAWR.

I hear people tell me that they love their jobs. It just kind of fell into their laps. They went to school for this and are now doing this...blah blah good for fucking you.

Yikes. Ok this is not good. But what to do what to do...

Positivity.

I have a job.
I can always go in my job (not like new positions but strengthen my writing).
Where I work always listens to new ideas...so it's time to get innovative.
God has his plan and if this wasn't it that just means there's something greater out there for me.

Ok now I don't feel sick anymore. Dinner time.

Not Too Shabby

Mytummyhurtsreallybad.
And it's because I've finally been eating normally after about a month of bingeing purging starving myself then eating a bunch of delicious fried stuff followed by beer for four days.
It does stuff to you.

Ewe. Yes I went there. Everyone does it.

Ok moving on.

If you can't tell I'm in a rand ol fucking mood.

I am genuinely happy right now.

Yes, this is the same girl that wished she had a hole to crawl into and never leave on Tuesday but oh my time flies.

So what's been going on? I'll tell you.

I've been doing what I'm told. I've followed my meal plan, I've eaten what I wanted (IE chocolate covered pretzels with lunch today), I'm going to a meeting a day and I'm being honest.

I got called on for my first time in AA since I started (which means you have to talk or well you don't have to but they would like you to). And my mind went blank and I was like fuck what the hell am I going to say to this group of strangers who are all sober and I have 3 days?

And well that's pretty much what I said. I told them how much I hate myself for not being able to stop. How I didn't think I could hate myself more the next day but tomorrow was today and oh look the loathing got deeper and the failures got larger and my insignificance grew.

I told them how I want help but I don't feel like it'll happen to me. I told them I'm scared as to what my life is going to be like if I keep up this way.

And then I told them I'm grateful for them because they understand that even though I want to stop I just can't stop. They don't get mad at me when I mess up.  They offer me a hug, a word of advice but mostly they just accept me and right now since I can't stand myself I need that acceptance.

After I talked I had girls and guys come up to me. Let me know that they feel how I feel or have felt how I felt. They made me feel included rather than alone and excluded. They made me feel worthwhile. They understood.

And at work since my friend that I went to Sasquatch with just needs her space I think (and rightfully so) I've been kind of a loner. I don't make friends easily and I over think everything and usually end up talking to myself about how much no one likes me rather than just saying hi to someone else. SO basically when I do something stupid, find a new song, want to get coffee I have no buddy. I was feeling sorry for myself until last night when I told my room (and hoping my God, whoever he is was listening) that I need help and to just give me some slack and he answered.

He put the courage in me to talk to other people at work. To reach out to them instead of wait for them to say something to me. To not stand awkwardly waiting for the microwave but strike up a conversation. It really isn't much but having the confidence to talk to those people and have them respond has felt wonderful.

Also, I just left a meeting. It's a meeting that I used to go to last year when I was trying this sober thing out. I would show up late, have to stand because I felt fat when I sat and I would leave early because the idea of talking to those people scared me. But today I was on time, listened the entire time and stayed through the end and met new people.

I'm feeling lucky happy and blessed and even though I know this won't last forever it's good to know I can have it right now.