I thought some of you would appreciate this one by Maria Mena. She's got such a nice voice and she's so young. I look forward to seeing what she does with her talent as she digs up more of her heart songs.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Eating disorders lecture given by, Howard Steiger, PhD
This is a recent talk given by Howard Steiger, PhD, the director of the Eating Disorders Program at the Douglas Institute.
That's new? Might I suggest scrapping all you think you know about eating disorders and beginning again. Most researchers blather on about this and that, but all I seem to hear is: "Sorry, but we've yet to learn anything conclusive about these mental illnesses. Thank you for your continued financial support."
That's new? Might I suggest scrapping all you think you know about eating disorders and beginning again. Most researchers blather on about this and that, but all I seem to hear is: "Sorry, but we've yet to learn anything conclusive about these mental illnesses. Thank you for your continued financial support."
Saturday, August 28, 2010
meds- trial & error
Image via WikipediaIt's been so long since I've been on medication for anything that I've forgotten the trial and error period. The past two days have been the error part of the deal. I was prescribed a small dose of lorazepam. Turns out that I'm a alprazolam gal. The Ativan has a sedative effect that the xanax just doesn't have for me.I spent all of Friday super anxious because I felt wasted and had to blow off so many responsibilities. I don't want to be wasted. I just want to lose the anxiety. So mister nice Doctor M will give the xanax, mild is all I need. Just a little to stop this crazy cycle of anxiety.
This is a work in progress. Weight is holding at 95. It could be worse. I'll be low again in a couple weeks, then I'm staying there. I must move on with things. Alprazolam, here I come.
Image via Wikipedia
Thursday, August 26, 2010
fuck off already
Image by sammzoo via FlickrI have nothing good to say about anyone. I feel like I live in a world inhabited by fucking retards, people who constantly be told to do something because they've not got the wits to think for themselves. I'm sick of dealing with idiots, and THEY'RE FUCKING EVERYWHERE!
I will never be alright in this life. I hate it. I hate people and their clumsiness, their wayward moral compasses, their lack of self respect. No wonder they get shit upon.
I really haven't a clue what I'm trying to express here other than frustration. It's the same shit over and over and over. People are a disappointment. People fail and fuck up all the time.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Not Bulimia. No Fucking Way.
I'm not going to go into that head space any further than I've already gone. Bulimia is so evil, so, so evil. I don't even get it. I figure it's related to anxiety and relieving said anxiety, but there are other ways.
I guess this is how I respond to extraordinary levels of stress and hardship. I've been barfing at least three times a week. And not just barfing. I've been eating things I normally wouldn't then barfing.
It hurts. It irritates my throat, leaves marks on my hand and it takes so long. Yet no matter how much time I spend getting everything out of me, I know there's always something left. Over time, I'll gain and gain.
Fuck no. I went down this road in my twenties. A road that left me feeling so desperate that I thought death was the only way out. I nearly succeeded. It's a wonder that I survived the overdose because I really shouldn't have. I have no recollection of the police, the ambulance or any medical procedures. I'm not sure how they found me in my apartment. Maybe a neighbor called? I'll never know.
I never want to feel that hopeless again in all my life. With determination, I'm squashing this shit now. I'm cleaning out my bod. I see the head shrinker for anxiety Wednesday. I'll have to see what he/she comes up with for treatment.
I'm so tired. Bulimic behaviors really zap your life force. Evil. Just like I said.
I guess this is how I respond to extraordinary levels of stress and hardship. I've been barfing at least three times a week. And not just barfing. I've been eating things I normally wouldn't then barfing.It hurts. It irritates my throat, leaves marks on my hand and it takes so long. Yet no matter how much time I spend getting everything out of me, I know there's always something left. Over time, I'll gain and gain.
Fuck no. I went down this road in my twenties. A road that left me feeling so desperate that I thought death was the only way out. I nearly succeeded. It's a wonder that I survived the overdose because I really shouldn't have. I have no recollection of the police, the ambulance or any medical procedures. I'm not sure how they found me in my apartment. Maybe a neighbor called? I'll never know.
I never want to feel that hopeless again in all my life. With determination, I'm squashing this shit now. I'm cleaning out my bod. I see the head shrinker for anxiety Wednesday. I'll have to see what he/she comes up with for treatment.
I'm so tired. Bulimic behaviors really zap your life force. Evil. Just like I said.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Where Is My Motivation?
You know, feeling like you're going to die is a big motivation killer for me. Now I feel like I'm fucked. I must be 95 pounds now and I'm terrified to weigh myself. I'm going by what I can pinch.
I'm so screwed. Something about getting in that realm of 90 pounds and under really messes with me. But is it in my head or does my body really start freaking out? Man, I wish I wasn't such a psycho.
Eating, as well as getting some of my needs met, causes me to feel so enormous, so huge, so out of control. Of course this anxiety just builds and builds upon itself. There is no escape. If I eat "normally" I feel disgusting and obese. If I get too thin, I feel ill and weak.
I really wish I wasn't caught in this eating disorder whirlpool. Or if I have to be here, I wish I'd just choose exactly how I want to be so I could do it and be done with it. I already know I can't be a strong athlete and be anorexic. So why do I keep trying to pull it off?
The problem is this: I am thin and I'm in incredible shape (for my age). ;) Actually for any age, but still... I already "have it," that thing that is suppose to make everything alright. So what happens when I stop playing this game with myself? What then?
I'll tell you what then. I sabotage myself.
I'm so screwed. Something about getting in that realm of 90 pounds and under really messes with me. But is it in my head or does my body really start freaking out? Man, I wish I wasn't such a psycho.
Eating, as well as getting some of my needs met, causes me to feel so enormous, so huge, so out of control. Of course this anxiety just builds and builds upon itself. There is no escape. If I eat "normally" I feel disgusting and obese. If I get too thin, I feel ill and weak.
I really wish I wasn't caught in this eating disorder whirlpool. Or if I have to be here, I wish I'd just choose exactly how I want to be so I could do it and be done with it. I already know I can't be a strong athlete and be anorexic. So why do I keep trying to pull it off?
The problem is this: I am thin and I'm in incredible shape (for my age). ;) Actually for any age, but still... I already "have it," that thing that is suppose to make everything alright. So what happens when I stop playing this game with myself? What then?
I'll tell you what then. I sabotage myself.
- I get my weight to 95. (check)
- I freak out about it. (check)
- I decide that I might as well enjoy a little more misbehavior and eat carelessly. (up to 1500-1800 calories a day) (check)
- I get sick of it. (check)
- I restrict to 800 calories again. (?)
Saturday, August 14, 2010
My Migraine, My Oopsie/Sorry
Here's one for the people who research migraine headaches. The day my headache was beginning is the day I lost it on my children. My anger was out of control, my patience absent, and a clear head was way outside of my grasp.
What I'm beginning to realize is that this happens nearly every time I get a migraine. It's preceded by anger, by a feeling of being out of control. I used to think it was linked to my menstrual cycle, but I'm realizing that I was wrong.
This time the headache lasted for about three days. Day one was spent flipping out. Day two I found myself unable to open my eyes for very long, nauseated, hungry beyond reason, and full of regret. I spent that day mostly in bed. Day three I was able to be a bit more active. The migraine lingered but was moving to the background. By day four, it had gone.
I'm too tired to pursue my ideas any further today.I hope to find a few answers soon though.
What I'm beginning to realize is that this happens nearly every time I get a migraine. It's preceded by anger, by a feeling of being out of control. I used to think it was linked to my menstrual cycle, but I'm realizing that I was wrong.This time the headache lasted for about three days. Day one was spent flipping out. Day two I found myself unable to open my eyes for very long, nauseated, hungry beyond reason, and full of regret. I spent that day mostly in bed. Day three I was able to be a bit more active. The migraine lingered but was moving to the background. By day four, it had gone.
I'm too tired to pursue my ideas any further today.I hope to find a few answers soon though.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
going rogue
Holy shit. I am off the charts with my anger. My world feels like it's crumbling. I hate to sound dramatic. Seriously, I do. This prison I'm in is falling apart though.
I thought I had a grip on my little family unit, but I'm so wrong. I called my daughter satan today; told both children they were like devils screwing up my world on a daily basis. When my daughter asked me why I had children, I replied that I had made a mistake.
Here's the sad part. I mean every bit of it. I'm so fucking sick of their nasty ass messes, their inability to follow through with responsibilities, their manipulation, their arguments, their physical fights, their neediness, their laziness. And I refuse to lower myself to "nag" status. I don't nag. Either they do what they need to do or they don't. The expectations are clear and reasonable, as are the consequences, but I lost it today.
What the fuck nightmare did I choose for myself? I told them to make a choice today. Either go rogue or be part of the family. I need to know where I stand; friend or foe. If they're going to keep working against me I need to know it. They need to know it. They chose family. In a way, there was no choice. They have to survive this. I feel so bad for them; so, so bad.
I thought I had a grip on my little family unit, but I'm so wrong. I called my daughter satan today; told both children they were like devils screwing up my world on a daily basis. When my daughter asked me why I had children, I replied that I had made a mistake.
Here's the sad part. I mean every bit of it. I'm so fucking sick of their nasty ass messes, their inability to follow through with responsibilities, their manipulation, their arguments, their physical fights, their neediness, their laziness. And I refuse to lower myself to "nag" status. I don't nag. Either they do what they need to do or they don't. The expectations are clear and reasonable, as are the consequences, but I lost it today.
What the fuck nightmare did I choose for myself? I told them to make a choice today. Either go rogue or be part of the family. I need to know where I stand; friend or foe. If they're going to keep working against me I need to know it. They need to know it. They chose family. In a way, there was no choice. They have to survive this. I feel so bad for them; so, so bad.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Safety & Maslow's hierarchy of needs
It's 2:15 a.m. and I'm taking speed. This tells me a couple things about myself. One, I'm completely out of control at this point. Two, I'm terrified. I literally live in fear almost every moment of my life.
So many times I've tried to imagine or remember times in my life when I've felt safe. With great shame I have to admit to an absence of such feelings. The times that I have felt safe have been so fleeting, so brief.
Did you know that having a sense of safety is at the base level Maslow's hierarchy of needs? Although his work is debated and criticized, one can not deny that he made accurate observations.
"Some neurotic adults in our society are, in many ways, like the unsafe child in their desire for safety, although in the former it takes on a somewhat special appearance. Their reaction is often to unknown, psychological dangers in a world that is perceived to be hostile, overwhelming and threatening. Such a person behaves as if a great catastrophe were almost always impending, i.e., he is usually responding as if to an emergency...
The neurotic individual may be described in a slightly different way with some usefulness as a grown-up person who retains his childish attitudes toward the world. That is to say, a neurotic adult may be said to behave 'as if' he were actually afraid of a spanking, or of his mother's disapproval, or of being abandoned by his parents, or having his food taken away from him. It is as if his childish attitudes of fear and threat reaction to a dangerous world had gone underground, and untouched by the growing up and learning processes, were now ready to be called out by any stimulus that would make a child feel endangered and threatened.[3]
The neurosis in which the search for safety takes its dearest form is in the compulsive-obsessive neurosis. Compulsive-obsessives try frantically to order and stabilize the world so that no unmanageable, unexpected or unfamiliar dangers will ever appear (14); They hedge themselves about with all sorts of ceremonials, rules and formulas so that every possible contingency may be provided for and so that no new contingencies may appear...They try to arrange the world so that anything unexpected (dangers) cannot possibly occur. If, through no fault of their own, something unexpected does occur, they go into a panic reaction as if this unexpected occurrence constituted a grave danger."
I'm bringing this up because I have to wonder exactly what the fuck I'm suppose to achieve when I can't find a sense of safety not only in the world that surrounds me, but also within myself. I don't feel safe being me, being in my body. This body is a battle zone. Every war I've fought has been because of this body.
Is it so hard to believe that I'd want to destroy it? In actual warfare would you not destroy the theater in which your enemy had the upper hand? You'd napalm the jungle, expose the enemy and kill them. This body is that theater. Shouldn't enemies and would be enemies be deterred from entering? Regardless, I'll be awake until the light of dawn guarantees that no stalker, no rapist, no molester will enter this retired seat of war.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
I wish it would feel good again
I can't do it; can't be submerged in eating disorder behavior all the time. It's like the more I chase after that feeling, the farther away I get from it. With accuracy I can tell you when I was last happy in my ED. There are times when it's a real high; it produces the best feelings.But it goes away, just like with drugs or alcohol. Why does it have to go away? Why can't it always feel good? Even if I repeat the same behaviors that produced the awesome feelings, I never seem to be able to get it back. It's not fair.
What I hope for right now is just a glimmer, a little light of hope. Something has to feel good again. There has to be something that will make me feel good again.
I did start therapy yesterday. I'll see a doc soon. I'll get benzos which is what my therapist recommends. Then maybe I can start to get a little bit of my life back. Maybe I can work toward feeling safe; something I have never really known.
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