September 8, 2005
So much Time, yet it all disappears
I think I've been avoiding writing again. But what's new? I don't know...
I feel like everytime I sit down to write these days... I can't find the words to adequately describe the chaos of my mind. It all moves around in my head far too fast for me to sort out-- or even comprehend for that matter. And so I avoid writing, cause I don't like writing half-assed, mediocre stuff that only skims the surface. Cause there's so much more that's going on underneath.
School is getting a bit overwhelming. I think it has more to do with my inability to stay focused on things these days. School used to come so easily for me. I never used to have to force myself to stay focused and to study. I always had A's. The further I get into this semester, the more I am seriously considering getting a prescrip. from Dr. Keller for Adderall. Or one of the other ADD meds. I just can't stay focused and that only adds to the anxiety. Cause then I worry about grades and tests and studying, and there just never seems to be enough TIME to get it all done.
Time is one of those things that plays a part in both the world of the unchanging (it's the one constant), yet at the same time, it's forever changing, the hands of the clock forever moving in it's continuous, monotonous circle. Day in and day out.
Judy and I decided to see how it goes with me going to her office Mon. and Wed. after class, and then to her place on Fridays (as she's not in the office). Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm in class all day, so those are relatively "safe" days. The one stipulation, however, is that I eat something on those days, so that she "can be assured that I'm at least eating SOMEthing on those days." We agreed on me drinking an Ensure or a Boost. (I'm a little pissed however, that Ross Laboratories-- the makers of Ensure-- stopped carrying their Ensure Light product. That was "safe" cause it only had about 120 cals and 3 gm. fat. But now, I'm stuck with drinking anywhere from 230-250 cals and SIX gm. of fat!!! Maybe my days at Judy's will be my only "food" days. The other days in between, I'll do my coffee-water-diet soda fast.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are no problem, since I'm in class all day. I swear, UNO has so many anorexics among it's population. I see them all the time. Everywhere. All over campus. And-- as usual, every single one of them is a hell of a lot thinner than I am. I don't get it--- what have I done (except exist) that I deserve to be so incredibly fat?? I have only lost 3 more lbs. in the last TWO weeks. So, I'm sitting at 117 at 5'8.5 I should be around 105 by now. But, no... I had to go and give in this weekend.
My mom's 50th birthday was Monday (Labor day)and so, the whole weekend was family oriented. My aunt flew in from Florida on Friday, then I spent Friday night down in Lincoln for a surprise party my aunt had planned with mom's girlfriends. Then Saturday morning, my cousin and his fiance flew into town. (Christina is awesome though-- we had a great time. She also had/has an ED.... more on that later).
Then.... the biggest surprise of all--- my brother drove up from Oklahoma for the weekend with his girlfriend and my two nieces. Talk about shock. I didn't know he was coming, so I had no time what-so-ever to prepare for that....
The nights were late and grew even later. I ended up spending most of the weekend at my parents' house, staying up till all hours of the night drinking coffee and playing cards or just talking with my aunt and with Christina. Then Monday, Kevin had planned another surprise party for mom for all their family and friends. They ended up having about 120 people over to the house. I get overwhelmed when just the immediate family is around. But when there's absolutely NO space... ugh.
So-- how does this weekend play into my fatness?? I purged about 4 times over the 5-day weekend. I know-- I'm disgusting and fat and gross and I should NEVER have given in and listened to anyone. If they wanted to bitch and complain about my lack of eating, and about everything else, I should have just let them do it. But no. I was weak. I stepped back into my little role of being the perfect little daughter who does everything she's told-- only because I knew I had an escape. I could keep them all happy, yet keep the tormenting thoughts from invading my mind. All I had to do was purge. I hate that I did it. No-- more than that. It's not just that I hate I purged, but that I allowed myself to eat in the first place.
I don't know what my problem is. But I really don't have any "safe" foods anymore. Baby carrots and pretzles used to be ok, but I can't stand the feeling of solid food in my stomach. Sometimes even drinking to much WATER causes me to feel like I've gained 20 pounds, and I feel like I have to purge so that my stomach is flat and my hipbones still stick out, and I can still count ALL the ribs. Who the hell pukes up WATER? My god.
Yesterday Judy asked what I liked about myself, and I really couldn't answer that question. The one thing I thought of-- I told her probably wasn't a good thing-- and she decided not even to go there. Probably a good thing. I like my eyes-- only because it's the one thing I get the most compliments on, and when I did this make-up thing with Keri last fall a few of the makeup artists there told me I had "perfectly shaped eyes". They said makeup artists like eyes such as mine because they could do all sorts of things with color and eyeliner etc. and it would always look great. The other thing I like is... my back and my shoulders. Why? Cause of the bones. hehehe I love how my collarbone sticks out like two handlebars with deep pockets beneath. I love seeing the edge of that bone on the edge of my shoulder. I love being able to twist my arms in various positions and then seeing the muscle fibers stretch tight. And I love being able to count my ribs, and see my spine... almost like.... a stegasoraus or something. And my hip bones.
Why am I like this? Why isn't being thin good enough anymore? I have to see the bones. I occasionally visit some of the so-called pro-ana sites I used to go to, and they are no longer "triggering" for me. Their "thinspiration" pics are not thin enough anymore. I look in the mirror and don't see that I've lost any weight. If anything-- I look like I've gained weight. But the scale says differently. It must be lying. There's no way I can weigh 117 and look like I weigh 170. I'm not being illogical. I'm being realistic.
Ya know-- one thing I find really humorous about all these pro sites, and about the media which refers to various pages of these sites--is that they all have the "Anorexic Creed" and the "Letter from Ana" and the "rules". But what people fail to realize, and fail to give credit for, is that they were all originally written by a therapist who wrote them after having worked with a number of clients who shared similar ideas of what "Ana" told them, or their beliefs or whatever. The media portrays it as some sick documentation--proof-- that we are all f-ed up and out-of-touch with reality. Too bad nobody has ever bothered to check their sources. First rule of journalism. First rule that one is NEVER to break in publishing, whether by print or radio or television. I believe it's called plagerism.
Pete isn't happy with me. After having gone all week eating nothing (Judy didn't ask me to drink the Boost at her office on Wednesday, so.... I didn't. [grin]) I gave in today and had some yogurt. And then, since I knew I was going to purge anyhow (damn guilt gets me every time) I ate half a bowl of dry cheerios. Granted, my "binge" was probably less than what a normal person would eat for breakfast, but regardless of that fact-- I still ate. And I still purged. And when I got home from class tonight about 9 p.m., Pete eventually brought it up. I couldn't lie to him, but I know it hurts him.
He said he hates seeing me like this. He hates watching me slowly disappear and know there's nothing he can do to stop it. He knows he can't fix things. And I hate myself for making him hurt because of something I do to hurt mySELF. I don't do it to hurt anyone but me. Because it gives me control. No matter what anyone says or does to me, or anything they ever said or DID to me-- I know I can always hurt myself so much worse than they ever could. Sick-- maybe. But it gives me strength in a twisted sort of way.
I think another part of all of this is the hurricane. I can't stop watching the news. I feel so helpless... hopeless. I watch all these people just wandering around aimlessly with nothing left but the clothes on their back, confused as to what the future holds. I know that feeling all too well. And then-- I feel guilty everytime I get a drink of water-- knowing many of the people there don't have fresh water. I feel guilty even THINKING of eating, knowing people there have gone days without food, unintentionally. I feel guilty for having a house to sleep in, and my dogs at my feet at night. For being able to drive my car to campus and go to my classes.
In short--I feel guilty for having the material things I have, when all these other people only have their lives. If I could-- I would honest to God switch places with any one of them. What makes me deserve to have what I do-- when so many others lost everything they've worked for in a matter of minutes? What makes me so f-ing special? Nothing. Not one damn thing. There's no rhyme or reason. No explanation. No answers. And so the only thing I can do is send money, feel guilty for not being able to do more, and watch the news. Maybe I'm just hoping for the positive to arrive, as though it exists somewhere below the depths of the water slowly being drained out. As though one of these days, it'll emerge.
I feel like I'm caught in quicksand. I'm completely surrounded and the more I struggle, the more I fight to get out, the further it engulfs me. How much longer till I give up? How much longer until I can't keep fighting? The answer scares me cause I know if I keep living this way, it won't be long. Yet at the same time-- this obsession, this self-destruction, this supposed ability to control my life past biological, humanistic drives fascinates me. I am stronger than my body, my mind. I can disappear as slowly or as quickly as need be.... whatever the situation or state of mind requires.
In the words of a poem by Nicci from the group Golden Palominos: "... How wonderful, to let yourself go that crazy. How wonderful, to not care if you come back to tell your story..."
Sometimes, the darkness fascinates me. Pulls me in a little deeper. Let's me breath for just a moment before dragging me back down. And I wonder how far I have left to go before I reach the bottom...
Posted by Wendy on September 8, 2005 10:44 PM
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