Main » December 2005
December 30, 2005
Another Sleepless Night
Too much thinking, worrying, overanalyzing everything has left me in a state of anxiety and insomnia. The only relief i had this week was Monday and Tuesday when Pete and i both fell asleep with NyQuil in our systems. And yeah-- i actually needed it then. i think the weekend just wore us both out, and by Sunday night, neither of us felt very good. i even stayed home from work on Monday cause of it. i hurt all over--every muscle, every joint. Dizzy, just overall not good. Those two nights of NyQuil gave me better sleep than i've had in weeks. hmmmmmmmmmm [ponders the thought of making it a nightly habit]
i cut today. numerous times. both arms. i did good for about 3 solid weeks if you only count the use of a blade. Cutting is slightly different from self-injury. Not by much. Maybe saying that is simply my own screwed up justification for it. Whatever. doesn't matter. The thing is-- once i do it, the thoughts are there constantly. And i see the cuts and it only makes me want to do it again. Pete hates it. Asked if i did it today and i couldn't lie. I usually only do the left arm [right-handed], so that's the only sleeve he pulled up. i tried to pull my arm away but he wouldn't let me. The thing i don't get though-- is that if he asks and i tell him the truth, he gets mad. Would he rather i lie about it? So-- we've spent the evening in our own separate worlds. He went to sleep a couple hours ago. No goodnight. Nothing. Didn't even tell me he was going to bed.
i cut because I wanted to. Needed to at that given moment in time. The last two days I was able to distract myself long enough to avoid it, but not today. i probably should have called Judy, but since she wasn't in the office today-- i assumed she had something else going on and wouldn't be home to take the call anyhow. Another stupid excuse I guess.
This time though-- (at least right now) I don't regret doing it. I really don't.
Just a bad day overall, i guess. First i cut, and then decided i was going to dye my hair back to black. It fit my mood. The general darkening of my mind, my thoughts these days. i don't know if i'm angry at the world or just angry at me. Either way-- there are moments in my weeks lately where that feeling is so strong it scares me. And it doesn't even have to be something big to send me in that direction. I hesitate to call it... rage... but for a few moments.... that's what it feels like. Or maybe i've denied myself the ability to feel anger in the first place, that any sort of feeling that is stronger than 'annoyed' or 'frustrated', feels like rage. I'm not, by nature, an angry person.
Pete says he's scared. I tell him I'm fine. I'm not doubting how he feels, but it's not like i'm going to just keel over dead in the next week. Pete says he worries i won't even make it that far. I'm not stupid--- I don't make vertical cuts down the center of my forearm, so it's not like i'm going to 'make a mistake' or 'slip' and cause some kind of damage that I can't undo. it's more like I'm just mad at the world and daring it to push me off a cliff... just to see if i can fly... Teasing death, but not sure of what the outcome will be.
Walking the line.... just to fucking prove I can.
the sad realization i've come to--- is that in the end, it really doesn't matter. To ME it does... i guess. I dunno--- maybe I'm the only one it has to matter to in the first place.
2:12 a.m. and I can't sleep and I don't want to write anymore. ......
December 29, 2005
8 Days and Counting
i have 8 days, including today, until i leave for Canada. Time seems to have accelerated at an alarming rate, and there's nothing I can do to stop it-- or at least suspend it temporarily. So many things to think about and to get done before then. And i don't know where to start.
The closer it gets to next Friday--- the more tempted I am to cut. To starve, to work off every last bit of self at the gym that I possibly can. Why? i don't know. Logically-- i know it isn't going to help me any. And at the same time, the desire to even care is greatly diminished these days.
So many people tell me they're "proud" of me for doing this. i know they believe it for themselves, and they deserve to feel however they do about it..... but 'proud' is not the word I would choose. People are proud of someone for their ability to achieve something, to accomplish something. I've merely given in. I don't see how that fits with the Webster-ian definition.
i guess in my mind--- it IS giving in. Going inpatient means that somewhere along the way--- i lost control of all of this. i was unable to handle this on my own. Case in point is this last semester in school. About the time i agreed to go to Westwind, is about the time I gave up on everything else, school included. i've gone from a nearly 4.0 student a few years back, to my current GPA of 1.5. Not that it matters much since I am taking a medical leave from school for next semester, but i have lost my financial aid for spring semester, as well as my place in the College of Education. When i return, i will have to re-enroll in a different college (probably arts and sciences or something) for a semester and then re-apply for College of Ed. If they'll take me back. Can we say F A I L U R E???
The only thing on my mind right now is cutting. As though that will some how make up for it. i know it won't--- but i'll take the temporary reprieve at the moment.
The only thing on my mind right now is Westwind. i haven't even STARTED packing yet, let alone even thinking about what to bring. Every time i start to--- it gets far too overwhelming and i do whatever it takes to make the thoughts go away.
My aunt called a couple nights ago and we were on the phone until sometime after 2 a.m. Just as it is whenever I see Teresa-- i felt a bit more hopeful about things. But that too was only temporary. I woke up and it had all disappeared. i DO want things to be different. i do. But the fear is so much stronger. People tell me that it's all about choices. That i can choose to be happy, or do things differently or not give into the eating disorder. Yeah-- on the outside it may seem that simple..... but it's not. If it were--- i'd have done it long ago.
This isn't some game i'm playing for attention or sympathy. Take your fucking sympathy. I don't need it. I don't want it. I've heard-- from more than one person-- the "victim" philosophy. That I'm playing the part of the victim, blaming everyone else for all of this. That the only person to blame is myself, for how I reacted to things. Apparently i should have "chosen" differently. Apparently, when this all began, i should have magically known what to do and how to deal with life on my own. i DON'T blame other people for this. i only blame myself. And i've never seen myself as a victim of circumstances or other people's actions. Only of myself and my own mind.
And no one understands that.
Damn-- I HATE crying....
B and i talked for quite awhile about living one's own life, rather than giving into the rest of the world. About creating a "center" of oneself that is strong enough to withstand whatever is thrown in one's path. i did feel a lot more positive after our conversation. But i don't know how to make it last.
I need to stop thinking right now.......
December 20, 2005
Disconnect the Body From the Mind
Three weeks from today and she'll be in Canada.
Can't get it out of her head. Can't stop worrying about it. Thinking about it. It consumes thoughts, days... her entire world.
She knows she shouldn't be thinking this way-- but the only thought right now is losing as much weight as possible before she goes. The number itself holds little value. There's no 'goal' weight in mind. No 'magic number' that will wave a truce flag when the body has had enough. So she crawls back inside herself, her world, her mind and declares complete and total anhiliation on the body. Self and body separate. No longer connected. The body is something to be reduced, eliminated. DESTROYED. Judy once told her-- In order to find happiness, get rid of the things you hate. What a novel idea. Thinks she'll take the advice, even if it was interpreted out-of-context. Details don't matter at this point.
She still wonders what Judy meant last week when she said she still had a lot she wanted to talk about.
She sits here now, a barrage of thoughts and "what if's" crossing her mind. And endless maze, twists and turns and dead-ends no matter which way she looks. No way out. Perhaps she's merely over-analyzing the situation.
She wonder sometimes why things are the way they are. Wonder what life would be like had she never wandered down this path in the first place. Yet at the same time-- the thought of living life any differently is so outrageously foreign to her, she can't even imagine the possibility. In less than three weeks, she'll be packing up the car, driiving some 600-700 miles north, towards a reality that seems only some figment of anothers' imagination. It doesn't seem real. And yet-- a part of her knows it is. It's a little TOO real. Enough that it can''t completely be ignored, no matter how many cuts she makes or pills she takes in attempt to find some sanctity in the madness. Some relief. Release. Freedom from an ever-darkening world.
Part of the fear lies in knowing that she is no longer 'allowed' to sit on the fence of apathy and watch the world go by without making a decision. No longer 'allowed' to sit here at this figurative fork in the road. For so long-- she's sat here, balancing on the edge of it all, avoiding having to make a decision in either direction. Can't go backwards-- and wouldn't want to. Can't go forward cause the fear is a hell of a lot stronger than she'd like to admit. (Or is even ABLE to admit-- for that matter).Wonders if what she is heading towards is worth giving all of this up. Can only trust those who tell her it is....
Because her mind won't let her believe it for herself....
December 16, 2005
Further Down the Spiral
Yeah, it's the name of a Nine Inch Nails album, but it's also the current theme of my days.
Pete found out about the meds.... the concerta, adderall, ritalin...... (whatever you wanna call it), and the Synthroid, 175 mg., the ephedra. He's not happy about it. i do understand where he's coming from, but we spent over four HOURS last night going over and over it. It was nothing short of redundant. He says i may not believe it-- but he honestly doesn't think my body can handle much more. i say-- well I'm still here, aren't i? i am very well aware of the fact that they are prescription meds, not prescribed to me. i am also very well aware of the fact that my last couple of finals were so incredibly easy for me. i was able to focus and concentrate on studying, and then remember it all the next day for the exam. In addition-- the energy level has skyrocketed, while the weight slowly (but steadily) resumes its downward motion. i am not exactly sure what percentage of the weight loss is from the amphetamines, or from simple starvation and excessive use of the gym. 50-50 perhaps. As if it really matters anyhow.
i saw Judy yesterday. i don't know why, but sometimes-- the weeks seem so incredibly long between sessions. It feels almost like an entire month has gone by, rather than just a week. We got on the subject of my family, and how they don't see any of this. In their minds, if they close their eyes and look away-- then it doesn't exist. "Like three-year olds in backyard games of hide-and-seek, if I can't see you then you can't see me. And I 've never. been. seen." i find it somewhat sad that poetry I wrote several years ago (or longer) are still just as relavent now as they were back then. i can re-read my own words at any given point in time, and know exactly what i was thinking or feeling at the moment pen met paper. i remember the exact situation in which the words were written--- on the back of a napkin sitting at the Coffee House in Lincoln; random pieces of paper stuck in textbooks; random lines of poetry on the edges of my notebook as I sat in class 'taking notes'. i dunno--- it's stuff like that i don't forget....
We (my family) are the epitome of dysfunction. We play our games, each one of us carrying out our assigned roles. Can't stray from that cause it would throw everything off-balance. And when you've got everything and everyone hanging on by a thread, the smallest of things can destroy it all in an instant. So no one dares to mess with it. Why the fuck am i the only one who sees that? Why am i the only one who realizes the stupidity, the absurdity, the fucking relentless nightmare we've created. Whether intentional or not-- we all had a part in it. i'm not placing blame-- and i know i, myself, have only furthered the existance of it by playing along. i know Judy is right when she says that i am "the healthiest one in [my] family", because i don't ignore it. But at the same time-- i hate it. Naivety has it's uses. Things are easier. When you don't know that things aren't 'normal', you don't know any differently. And so you never question any of it, never think twice about any of it. It's just what you do, and you leave it at that. The moment I turned around and faced the anorexia head-on was the moment the fight became a hell of a lot harder. That's when the division in my head became apparent. That's when the real fight began.
Sometimes i wish i could go back to the beginning of it all. Back when i didn't question anything i did, nor fight myself at every turn. It was so much easier then. i always say i'll be ok. i say that i am fine. But I'm never exactly sure of that. In all logical reasoning, it's only an attempt at convincing myself of what i perhaps, would like the triuth to BE, not necessarily what it IS. And each night is a run-in with survival. Hanging by a thread that's been unravelling for years.
Judy asked me yesterday to list "who" i was, eating disorder aside. That was a struggle. Everything seems more based on what I DO, not who I AM. And for some reason, i keep thinking that the *self* is something that can be found, like picking up seashells on a beach. And that i'll somehow magically just know. But it's not like that. I dunno-- it just seems like .....ugh. . i don't know how to explain it. And then Judy says that with or without the ED, i'm still that same person. Says to find the *self* i used to be, before all this began. And what i didn't say is while that sounds like a nice plan--iI've been "disordered" for as far back as i can remember. In first grader, 6-years old, i wrote on an "All About Me" assignment that i "liked my eyes", but hated "myself and the way i look". If one doesn't really begin cognitive awareness of self and abilities etc., until somewhere around the age of 3 or maybe 4--- that means, i had approximately two years of pre-disordered thinking. Doesn't really leave me much time to fall back on.
i dunno... maybe i'm just being totally unrealistic.
At some point during the session, I resorted to S.I in order to calm the anxiety... And as always-- Judy wouldn't let me. But sometimes I NEED that. It's what helps me "go away" at times, but other times-- it's what I need to keep myself there. Ok.. THAT sounds rather neurotic. And of course, i was in tears by this point-- though still trying hard to keep them in. And then Judy says there's a LOT more she wanted to talk to me about, but thought i'd had enough for the day. So then, of course--- i start worrying about what i did or didn't say or write or whatever the case may be. And i'm still thinking about it.... ugh....
Welcome to the wanderings of a chaotic mind............
December 15, 2005
Flashbacks and the 5 Senses.. or something like that
i don't know what it is, but everything lately... gets.... to me. The weather, the look of the sky, a song, a comment... it all brings me to this place i don't really want to be in. Hard to explain-- but it's like little.... flashbacks... of some former moment in time. Just the other day i was driving home from class, and the way the sky looked was what i remembered it being like when i was in Philadelphia. And then i started thinking of Shannon and wondering how she's doing and what she's up to. i wonder if she's even still alive. i've actually looked online a couple of times at the newspapers out there, checking the obituaries.
The only thing on my mind right now is going to Westwind in January. I've lost 5 pounds since Sunday, and yet-- it's not coming off fast enough. Then again, I don't think it will ever be fast enough. i've had finals this week-- and i'll be amazed if i pass all my classes this semester. Right now, school is the last thing on my mind. The Ritalin i got from ________ helps with the studying for finals though. i'm at least able to concentrate long enough to remember what i've just read, and then to subsequently remember it when i take the exams.
After this week though-- i'm done with school until Summer or next Fall. i walked out of my horiticulture exam, walked across campus to my car and had to fight back tears on the way. i dunno-- i guess it's becuase of the fact that i know i won't be there next semester. And i feel like a failure for going inpatient and not being able to handle this on my own.
And the more i think about it-- the more guilty i feel for going because of my job. i know I used that excuse with Denver cause of the kids at work.... but still... knowing it's an excuse still doesn't lessen the guilt any. The thing is-- i'm not even thin, let alone "too thin", thereby requiring IP treatment. So i have no idea how i'm going to explain it to people at work, for why i need to take two or three months off. I do NOT look sick in any way, shape or form. No way in hell. There are a hell of a lot of other girls who are 10 x's smaller than me, who deserve to go to Westwind. Not me. Biggest fear? Pete and I will drive all the way up to Canada, they'll take one look at me and tell me to turn around and go home. Reality says differently, but the logic in my head doesn't. http://www.xanga.com/item.aspx?tab=weblogs&user=AnaRunner&uid=405163279
A couple of pics to prove my point.
I need to stop thinking. Stop feeling. Stop everything right now.....
December 12, 2005
More Random Artwork
"Dying Inside" Acrylic on canvas; Dec. 2005
"On the Inside, Looking Out"; Digital photography; Dec. 2005
Ok-- well, some people who actually read this site, have requested a new pic of me. I've never posted a message here other than my own journaling... but...here.... just to be different for once....
(WARNING: I look horrible in these... but hey, they're recent)
For other pics--- go to my website www.fromthedepths.tk
I just updated my photo and art pages in the last week.
It's been a long weekend. The days all seem to roll into one and i'm not quite sure where one day leaves off and the next one begins. The wedding ceremony on Friday was just how Pete and i wanted it. Small, just the two of us, Alyssa and Judy. Neither Pete nor i are big on the idea of being the center of attention (hence the reason for my attempted disappearance over the years). We didn't want some huge, drawn out wedding that takes months of planning.Too much stress involved, and i already have enough of that going on inside my own head without having to worry about the external world adding to it. We'll still do a small wedding this summer and a reception, but nothing huge as far as the wedding goes. Just close friends and family. The reception can be as big as it needs to be.... I'm not worried about that part.
Anyhow-- afterwards, the four of us went out for a few drinks.... and then Pete and i were supposed to meet my parents later for dinner. i would have felt so guilty about NOT going, yet at the same time--- I felt guilty for even considering the idea, knowing i'd have to eat something. So, I had a few drinks. Four (REALLY GOOD) margarita's to be exact. i wasn't drunk by the time we left, but i was rather.... um.... tipsy. Not the best way to quell the anxiety, but it worked for the moment. (Random thought here-- why am I so damn stuck on the 'quick fix' for everything? Cause really-- what did drinking fix? Nothing-- in the long run. Short term. Temporary. Story of my life).
So-- we met my parents about 7-ish or so, and ended up going to-- of all places-- Old Country Buffet. Being half-drunk, and trying to appear somewhat 'normal', I ended up eating more than i wanted to--- and subsequently purged it all the second we got home (the alcohol had something to do with that, however-- as I'm technically not supposed to drink in the first place. Rules Shmules. I make my own). I'm a fucking idiot. If we would have just skipped the whole dinner thing, i wouldn't have drank as much as I did, and wouldn't have said "fuck it, I've already ingested at least 400 calories from the margaritas, what the hell difference does a few more calories make if I'm not gonna keep it in anyhow?"
But at that point-- and then after... it really didn't matter. Neither the calories, nor the fact that I'd purged. I simply didn't care. Damn-- even when i'm intoxicated, the ED thoughts are still there. Still in control....
Now that the wedding stuff is past--- the one and only thing on my mind right now is the fact that in a month i will be at Westwind. And I AM TERRIFIED. I'm wondering why i agreed to go. Why i made that promise to both Pete and Judy. Pissed at myself for not 'working harder' and being smaller. Now i have only 4 weeks. Westwind called on Friday-- of all days-- and my date is set for January 8th (Sunday), and I will start the program on January 9th. i know that it's not the greatest idea to lose a bunch of weight before i go, but at the same time I don't want to go and end up being the fattest one there. But even that isn't all of it, and that sounds so vain and superficial.. i don't know. i don't know how to explain it-- even to myself. It's just this all-consuming thought... idea.... this insane drive that says I have to. It's not my choice anymore... or at least it doesn't feel that way. I have to prove that I deserve to be there just as much as anyone else. And the only way I'll know that is based on how low I can get the number on the scale before I go. Simply hearing that i deserve it isn't enough. There's a huge difference between knowing something and actually believing it. And quite honestly-- i don't believe it. It's like i hear it, but it doesn't register within. I have to SEE the proof.
It's all I think about right now. No matter where i'm at. Home... work.. the gym.... I spent over 2 1/2 hours at the gym tonight after work, burned off a little over 1100 calories (having consumed only coffee and water today), and still left there feeling like i hadn't worked hard enough. Doesn't help any that the scale at the gym said i've GAINED 4 pounds since this morning (AFTER working out). But i didn't have the energy to stay any longer. Weak and exhausted, heart beating erratically and huge dark circles under my eyes that appeared out of nowhere. So I went home.
On my xanga site (www.xanga.com/anarunner) I've gotten so many messages to my posts. Support for my decision. Requests for the address to keep in contact or send stuff. And yet, i can't help feeling like it's more out of relief that I'll be one less means of 'competition' for everyone. Westwind doesn't focus on a specific goal weight to reach, but I'm scared i'll leave there sometime in March or April, massively huge. And then where will i be? It's not like I can 'go back' to my Ana Girls-- at least not in the same way as before. I mean, i could.... but at the same time, i can't.
In a strange sort of way, it's like that Jim Carrey Movie "Truman Show." i've lived my whole life in this carefully (self) created little world where everything is so controlled, so safe. It's all I've ever known, and it's the only identity I've ever really had for myself. You don't ever know differently, and so you keep at it until you reach that dead-end. That point of do-or-die. And in one solitary moment, you walk up those stairs, open the door and leave it all behind.
i don't know who I am without the eating disorder. Yeah-- i know what i like, and things i'm good at-- but who am *i* without the eating disorder dictating that to me? There's a small part of me that wants to find out-- but an even bigger part that is terrified to do so. Cause what if that elusive "other side" really isn't worth it in the long run? And at the same time i've got that thought in my head, there's also the other side saying... well-- look at Teresa. Or Ayesha. Or a number of other people I know who've done it. Yeah-- it's still something they may deal with on a fairly regular basis (even daily, for that matter), but it's not there 24/7. But my mind can't comprehend the possibility.
And there's a part of me too, that feels like i'm 'giving in'. That i'm weak. Or that i'm throwing away 16 years of my life, even if it HAS been spent in anorexic-mode the majority of those days. But at least as long as I hold onto the eating disorder, in some way or another-- i still have those days. i don't know what I'm attempting to say, or explain or whatever the hell one wants to call it. It's all too much.. too confusing... too overwhelming. Especially for 2 o'clock in the morning.
December 8, 2005
More wedding stuff.....
It's hard to believe that I'm getting married in about 15 hours. Yeah-- HOURS. Since we're doing it really small at the courthouse, it'll just be me and Pete, Alyssa and Judy. Alyssa is going to do our photos, and I wanted Judy there since she knows me better than pretty much anyone. Later this summer, after I'm back from Canada/IP, we'll do a small wedding with family and "immediate" friends (is that a word??), and then a huge reception with family and friends. Neither Pete nor I wanted to spend a year planning everything and the stress of everything. We wanted it simple. That's how we are. Neither of us is real comfortable with being the center of attention and the thought of having some huge, planned out wedding was rather overwhelming.
My parents are taking it all pretty well, though they still bring up the fact that they "wish they could be there" and about how I "should" have my sister there...etc. It's more a guilt trip than anything, even if they don't totally intend for it to be that way. I don't know.... I did find an outfit to wear yesterday and put it on hold. Took my mom to see it tonight, and ended up letting her pay for it. I guess at least that way she feels like she had a part in the whole thing. But even that part of it was stressful. Even for Pete.
I showed up at my mom's house after my appointment with Judy, and Alyssa was already there. I walk in and my mom starts going off about how she didn't really want Alyssa there taking pictures, and she wanted it to be just the two of us, and on and on. I felt horrible, cause Alyssa was sitting RIGHT THERE, and my mom's talking about her like she wasn't. I wanted Alyssa there, cause part of it is for the project she is doing (I'm part of her photojournalism project on eating disorders-- she just sorta follows me around through my days, on occassion) and me getting married is a big part of it. But also, for my own pictures of the wedding. I don't want an album full of posed pictures. This is MY wedding (even if it's sorta done in two parts), and it's MY decision. I told Alyssa I was totally ok with her going, and that I wanted her to be there. Whether or not she used any of the pictures in her project was up to her, but for my own purpose-- I wanted pictures from the very beginning. Shopping for the outfit, etc-- things you normally don't have pictures of in the wedding album. She'll come later as well, when I decide on a dress for this summer. I ALMOST gave in to what my mom wanted..... but... I didn't. Alyssa ended up coming with us for awhile, got some pictures, etc.
As for the rings-- we're just doing simple, matching white-gold bands now, and then the bigger rings in the summer. Again though-- something small and simple. My mom has some diamonds (4 of them) from my grandmother's ring (on my bio-dad's side) that she offered to let me have. So, Pete and I are going to use those and we're going to design our own rings before the wedding in the summer. My grandmother buys quite a bit of jewelry and has a jeweler that she uses fairly frequently down in Lincoln who will work with us. We'll basically design the rings and he'll create them. I'm excited about that part. Then it's DEFINITELY not going to match anyone else's ring, and it will mean even more since we design it together.
I'm rather nervous about telling the rest of the family. So far, only my parents and my sister know, and my aunt since my mom called her last night. But no one else knows yet. Guess that part is next.
I'm excited, though it doesn't all quite seem real yet......
On marriage and IP
ok... where to begin. Pete and i have talked about getting married and i knew it would eventually happen one day. Well, with me going inpatient in January, and not having any health insurance at the moment due to going back to school full-time days, i need to be on Pete's health insurance. The only way to do that is to get married.
We're not doing it JUST for the insurance (obviously), but it moved it up sooner than we'd planned. So, it's set for tomorrow. Dec. 9. We just finally told my parents about it on Tuesday evening. They took it rather well. At least, better than i expected. i really wasn't sure what to expect, i guess. My mom has a tendancy to react at one end of the spectrum or the other. No middle ground. They were surprised, naturally. Upset that they couldnt' be there (as we're just doing it at the courthouse now, and then in the summer having the actual wedding/reception.). We also went ahead and told them about Westwind, cause they weren't getting the whole insurance thing, and why i couldn't wait another couple of months until my own insurance at work kicked in. So, now they know all of it. They were happy about the marriage part, but rather..... hesitant (??) about IP. I got a barrage of questions and comments about it, wondering how their program would help me, why i thought things would change by going there....
i dunno.... just sorta felt like they didn't think i needed it. that i wasn't "sick" enough to 'deserve' help. And so my first thought now, is that I'll just prove them wrong. why? cause I'm a little fucked up in the head, i guess. (i've never denied that fact. LOL.) But then, at the same time-- i hear Nic's voice in my head telling me i shouldn't go that direction, cause it'll only make IP harder. We've already discussed this issue numerous times. But it doesn't make the desire for disappearance any less strong...
December 6, 2005
Too Much Thinking
*wrote this on another journal site (www.xanga.com same username), and it automatically "fixed" my lower-case 'i's. grrrrrr. i intentionally make them small. If i wanted them capitalized, i would have done so.... ugh***
I wonder sometimes where to begin. I think back on the years and wonder where the starting point is. Do I begin at 5 years old, when, sitting on the back porch with my twin sister, Heather and our then-best-friend Lori, I somehow came to the conclusion that I did not deserve the plate of macaroni-and-cheese sitting before me? At six, when I first realized that the body was something to dislike, to hate, to feel ashamed of? Or maybe I begin at the age of seven, when I began, on numerous nights, to sit backwards on my bed, middle of the night, hugging my pillow, staring up at the man in the moon and crying silent tears because "no one loves me"? (Careful, always, not to wake my sister who slept merely feet from me, safe and sound in her own little dream world. A place I could not find -- nor create-- for myself).
Perhaps I begin at the age of nine when I first began stealing diet pills; "gifts" from my grandmother who sent them to my mom on a fairly regular basis. Or maybe at the age of 10 when I began skipping after school snacks, elated at the thought I wasn't "giving in" like my siblings. This was, in a way, my "gateway" into the world of anorexia. Skipped snacks turned into avoiding specific foods, in turn leading to skipping whole meals all together. In my mind, it somehow made me stronger. I could deny myself the feeling of hunger and it was empowering. To say this is where it all began is somewhat misleading, however -- as I believe other circumstances led up to this breaking point. Other things led to the continuance of the disorder.
There were the months I lived on fat-free, sugar free yogurt and Raspberry Nutra-grain bars. Nothing else. 220 calories a day. Switched to eating only spaghetti-o's. Then to only eating small portions of plain Cream-of-Wheat, occasionally allowing myself to "indulge" in the chocolate flavor. The month in junior high I spent living solely on a bottle of diet coke and half a package of Skittles every day. Years later, my twin and I in our first apartment together, living for two entire months on dill pickle slices and diet mountain dew.
I don't know if an eating disorder is something that actually has a beginning--- or an end for that matter. Yeah, one may find recovery-- that elusive "other side". But how can you not have the idea in your head that ( post-recovery) if things get bad enough, you can always 'go back' to the eating disorder. Why? Cause you know it worked. Yeah, there are far better ways to deal with life, but when you reach a certain point, you go with what you know, even it's a bit self-destructive.
Simply put, I can't give a definitive beginning. I did not wake one morning and decide to starve myself. Ana had a life of it's own, and had it's own agenda for mine. By the time I realized that something wasn't quite right, wasn't quite normal-- I was already too far down the spiral to climb my way back out again. And by that time, I felt rather safe, small, secure in my own little world of anorexia. I didn't WANT to climb out again. I couldn't deal with life, with the world, with everyone else, and in my world-- I didn't have to. It wasn't a selfish endeavor. It never really has been.
Some will disagree with me. Some will say anorexia is selfish. Well-- they haven't lived my life, so they don't really know. And I refuse to be categorized into some 'description', some textbook classification of what my anorexia is or isn't. Yeah-- I may share some characteristics with other anorexics, but none of us are exactly the same. None of us will ever fit the same DSM-IV 'requirements' to the same degree. I've never viewed my anorexia or the reasons behind it, as selfish. If anything-- it's quite the opposite. I've always felt the world was better off without me taking up as much space. Disappearance was the goal, but not for my own sake. I was doing it for them. All of them. I wanted to be out of the way, less noticeable, unobtrusive. In short, I didn't want to be seen. Wanted my existence unknown. Just a silent bystander passing by. Alone. On my own. So I remain silent, keep everything inside. Continually build the walls and keep people out (most of them, anyhow). On the surface I have it all. Everything is perfect and life is great.
But on the inside I am falling apart.
December 5, 2005
Some more pics
Winter's here. UGH... i hate the cold, but it makes the landscape look neat. Great for photography, i guess.
These were taken Sunday, driving back on I-80 from Lincoln.
December 1, 2005
Just some photos of Avery from the apple orchard. Oct. 2005. i actually like these pictures. Usually I find something wrong with every pic i take... the lighting.. contrast... shadows.... But i'm liking these ones....
i also have a thing for black and white photos..... so I'm pretty happy with the way they turned out.... (if i'm allowed to admit it).