backing away from the edge

Image by The U.S. National Archives via Flickr


I wish I never got out of control with my insanity, my eating disorder, my anxiety; whatever, it's all the same crazy brain. When I'm acting out the self destructive behaviors and feeling like I have no say in what I'm doing to myself, I get so freaked out. Last week, suicidal ideation was my only escape.

Having found myself stuck again in a cycle of binging and puking - and not my more typical oh-the-day-is-over-I-feel-full-gotta-puke-now b/p thing - this was days of non-stop food craving insanity. I'd probably have been better off if I'd have made myself digest one of those boxes of cereal I'd eaten, but come on. No way.

What I'd like to know is this, when was the "magic moment" that snapped me out of it and why did I snap out of it? It's got to be anxiety related because I was under a shit ton of pressure and worry in regards to my quite ill child, unpaid bills, dying friend and thus and such.

Argh, but I don't know! It's not like all the worries have vanished. Maybe it's my menstrual cycle, my brain's need for fat, carbs and protein, my will to survive.

Some force pulled me back a few paces. I'm still acting out ED behaviors, but they're manageable. It's back to the "usual" for me:  restricting calories, obsessive thoughts and actions like, relentless calculations and exercising for hours. This I can handle. I feel much safer this way.

Related articles

• A new study on self-injury behavior encourages quick and targeted intervention (eurekalert.org)
• Treating Eating Disorders and the Depression or Anxiety That Often Accompany Them (psychologytoday.com)

teetering on the edge

Image by yewenyi via FlickrHow is it that I'm so close to the edge again? First, let me define that. For me, the edge is the point when my eating disorder and accompanying mental crutches are no longer working for me.

The edge is when the facade comes down and I have to see myself for what I am. At that point, I become very shaky, very unstable. In order to avoid reality, I crank up the sick behaviors a little bit more. So, I'm fasting. I'm fasting in order to forget everything I am and all that I'll never be.

I'm fasting because I ate in the middle of the night while zonked on benzos. Some things never change.

Related articles

• Eating Disorders in Older Women - Deadly, misunderstood, and underestimated (head-heart-health.com)
• How to treat 'diabulimics': Diabetics with eating disorders (philly.com)

black swan put me out of my head

Image by ario_ via FlickrA few days ago, I saw Black Swan. The film floored me, pushed me way past my comfort zone and left me feeling exposed, vulnerable. It's almost like Aronofsky understands too well the subtle everyday traumas associated with mental illness, with our deeper private selves. Or are we, who live with our illnesses, so obvious to the greater world around us?

I identified with the character, Nina, a bit too much. I was that kind of dancer, always seeking precision and perfection in my movements. I needed to know exactly how my body was to be at each second. I didn't "free form" dance, not in ballet. And I had perfect technique. I needed it. With that, I was held together. I understood how I fit in to space and time as long as I was dancing. Peace of mind was in the studio, in the mirrors, where I could see myself in perfect form.

It doesn't take much to disrupt that balance though. With Nina, we witness an extreme transformation as her illness takes the yoke and flies her to a devastating paradox. Aware of her madness, she chooses to accept it. She chooses love and releases herself from the demons. Her fate is understood. She understands that she must succumb to her madness.

I've been in moments like that. In the moments before attempting suicide, you find that grace. Though your plight may be awful, you accept it with dignity and do what you must. Sigh.

Madness sucks as does getting tired. I want to explore the impact of this film more though. It brought up a lot of issues. I need to get them sorted and put away again.

crazy ex, FUCK OFF!

So I was opening my email as I tend to do, and was stunned by what I saw. My last husband, aka gas lighting pro, sent me a message.

Subject line: happy anniversary ;) 

I kid you not. This dude married me then split a couple months later when he realized that I wasn't going to sign my house over to him, nor was I going to allow him to treat me or my children abusively. Mother fucker. How dare he email me. Says he wants to talk, but doesn't have my number. Dude can get it from someone if he wants it badly enough.

I deleted the message. I'm not going to respond. Ignore. As a matter of fact, I set up a filter to delete all of his sent emails straight away. Whatever he wants, he'll have to find it somewhere else. So there.

Honestly though, I wonder if he's back in my town. I fear he'll come knocking on my door. I hope he's still 1200 miles away. Seriously, I do. The guy freaks me out.

I puked today. Though I did it before I got the email, so it's not like that was an ED trigger. I'm just pissed; pissed that he thinks it's alright to send me a jovial email on the eve of the anniversary of the wedding. What a dick. I have no attachment to this day and I've had no contact with him for almost five years.

GAH. Just when things had gotten calm. :D  Yeah, right.