A saw the sign

Today began as many Saturdays often do. I woke up at 10:30, had a bowl of Cheerios with milk and frozen blueberries, did the crossword, went on a Starbucks run for mom and myself, then took Georgia for a walk around the block. (Note: if you are an easily frustrated person like me, I don't advise attempting to train any sort of rodent how to walk on a leash- it may be cute but I'm pretty sure my Guinea Pig thinks it's a punishment so she just sort of sits there glowering). I'd managed to get her to move about ten feet from the house when I saw a familiar shape and figure resting in a crate on a neighbor's grassy curb. It was white ceramic with black rubber footpads and the all too sinister dial of numbers under a circular window of clear plastic. Now, when I see a scale, I'll tell you what it feels like. My heart jumps about two inches into my throat and I feel like I've been spotted in the hall by my High School History teacher who's class I just skipped. It's terrifying and guilt producing.

I haven't weighed myself in over three months, and I honestly don't plan to anytime soon. I know I'm heavy right now and honestly, I don't need that judgmental red needle shoving it in my face. However, finding a lone scale right outside my house feels a little like fate and I'm not one to pass on something that feels like it's meant to be. How to snatch the fifteen pound apparatus without Mrs. O'Leary poking her head out the window and bellowing at me though? I thought about this while Georgia hovered under my ankles, chirping to go back in her cage. I brought her back into the house and thought about it some more.

About ten minutes later I just went for it. I grabbed one of our empty blue recycling bins and wandered innocently down the street. I picked up the scale and put it in the bin, then walked innocently back towards my house. When I was hidden from sight I laid it on the ground and pressed my palms down on it, just to see if it appeared functional. I think it works... I took it over to our car, opened the trunk, and slid the scale under my dad's golf clubs and gym bag. It is safe and sound for the time being, until I can find a time to move it to the basement or something.

Thing is, I don't really want to use the scale. In all honesty, it might not even work! It was in the trash, right? But I have to believe that having it in my possession is good. Not healthy, but... somehow good. The only times I've ever used a scale religiously was when I was at a low weight and needed to make sure I stayed there. Those were the days when things felt good. I have to hope that things will be good again.

Booooo

Nothing is working out the way it should, and it's making me want to lash out irrationally. Actually that's not really true. I don't feel like lashing out irrationally. I just like to say "lashing out irrationally". It makes me me sound like a vampire.


My session with Dr. Gordon was awesome. She is super nice and totally on the same wavelength as I am. A few times she even finished my sentances, coming up with words to describe my eating disorder that I had never even thought of but that totally worked. The bummer is that my family just changed health insurance providers, and Dr. Gordon doesn't take our new plan. Sooooooo, I 'm back to square one.

Also, I was supposed to feed my neighbor's cat over the weekend but I guess somewhere in the vast clutter of garbage that is my memory, I forgot to. Luckily it was only 48 hours so the kitty is still alive but I felt horrible and spent like twenty minutes apologizing over the phone. Think I might buy the cat a present actually... catnip mouse or something?

I also really need to find a job. I filled out an application to work at Rosie's Bakery near my house... but I'm in such procrastination mode I haven't been able to muster the strength to actually go over there and drop off the form.

The only glimmer of a silver lining in my life right now is my Psychology class. The professor is awesome, really down to earth, and incredibly smart. Too bad it's only once a week :( I can't wait for my textbook to come in the mail.

Just four more months till I can go back to college for real!!!!!!!!!

I'm hopping the next train to Crazytown

Today sucked major balls, emotion and behavior wise. It was Rachel's birthday (little sis is turning eleven!), and she had a party with all her friends. My mom hired this guy to come and show us his exotic animals for an hour and half. It was cool. He brought a woodchuck, a cockatoo, a python, flying squirrel, tarantula, alligator. It was quite a show. The excitement proved too much for me though, so I ended up feeling anxious all over the place. I really wanted to go running but I couldn't just ditch my little sister's party so I sort of just stuck around and munched on chips and m&m's. All in all I wouldn't call today a binge... I mean, I had cake and ice cream and seconds for dinner and then more candy but so did everyone else! It's just really hard when my mom pulls me aside and asks if I'm okay because she sees me eating more than usual. It's unfair is what it is. Everyone else gets to enjoy the celebration with a little extra food but it's like the moment I look like I'm overeating people assume I'm having a nervous breakdown.

When my mom asked about how much I ate, I started crying. She insisted it wasn't the amount of food she was concerned about so much as the "shift in my mood." She says she can tell when I'm getting worked up about something. I told her it was because I wanted to go running but I couldn't. I wanted to get away for a little bit but I couldn't, and that put me on edge. I feel awfully guilty crying in front of my mom because she is the last person who would ever act out emotionally or impulsively. My mom never cries. She's super sweet and very empathetic, but never really feels out of control and upset like I do. Sometimes I wish we were more similar. I wish that she could be more like me or I could be more like her, but there is no rhyme or reason to the genes that determine personality and brain chemistry.

Anyways, I felt a little better talking about it with her, but, like most heartfelt and serious conversations, I felt brutally probed and vulnerable afterwards. I cried some more by myself, and then engaged in a little self harm to try and bring myself back to baseline. Speaking of which, in regards to this blog, I've been wondering whether or not to acknowledge self harm behavior when it occurs. It's not an ED behavior, but it's still a maladaptive coping mechanism that I've been turning to recently, so for all intents and purposes I feel like I should mention it. I don't want to write about it though if it puts people off or makes you guys think I'm weak and deranged. I'll be okay. I think.

Hey, can I get some credit though? I haven't binged at all yet this month and today didn't even come close to the amount of food I usually gorge on.

Who am I?

Well today was a total waste of a holiday. Most people had off from school or work but I spent the morning and afternoon driving around aimlessly, riddled with random anxious thoughts. Actually "thoughts" is too specific a word. Sometimes I just have days where I'm not thinking clearly, so everything sort of fogs up and thoughts and feelings are no longer organized in an understandable fashion. The only thing left is really intense negative energy. Argh! It's so hard to explain. I sound like a psycho trying to articulate it. Anyways, I was driving to the gym but all of a sudden I lost the desire to work out, or maybe I couldn't really process the fact that I wanted to go, so I just kept driving around. I drove and drove and thought about bingeing to make the bad energy go away. But then I remembered that bingeing is what got me fat and getting even fatter wasn't a good call. So I started picking at my arm with a credit card, because sometimes physical pain brings me back to reality. I stopped picking just as I was about to break the skin though. I stopped and got out, went into Newbury Comics and bought a keychain of a little watermelon with eyes.

By the time I got home I felt a little better but still antsy and bingey. I ate a luna bar and then went running. I ran to the High School then home again. Not very fast though. I suck at running.

I wonder why I didn't want to go to the gym today. Any thoughts? It was just like all of a sudden my mind stopped working and I didn't know what I wanted. Does that sound insane? I'm not crazy.

Tomorrow is Friday. Fridays are fun. I really need to find a job. My dad asks me just about every evening if I've heard back from all these different places that I told him I would apply to. I miss school. What on earth possessed me to put it off another semester? I'm already counting down the days until January when I can return to college, FINALLY take my life back, and discover who I'm truly supposed to be. Often on days like these, when my mind does that thing where it stops working, I get worried about who I am and what I'm going to do or be like when I'm all grown up. I hope it's not anything like the way I am now... oh god. That's what I'm worried about.

Things that are awesome and why

Man, I'm bored. I didn't end up having class yesteday so I guess the first one is next week instead, which means I have another seven days left to my own devices. At present I am the only one home because today is the first day of school for everyone else. Rachel is starting fifth grade, Jake's in his final year of High School, and my mom is teaching seventh and eighth grade English at her new job. Poor dad works all the time so today isn't really any different for him.

I came up with a list of things that are awesome and why. Just cuz it's nice to appreciate little things.

- my guinea pig, Georgia. Because she is like a miniture person with four legs and fur who you can play with and feed grapes.

- the previews right before the movie, because have you noticed that a good preview will make even the dumbest plot look intriguing?

- strawberry greek yogurt, because it's got 22 grams of protein and when you're feeling really pathetic you can pretend it's strawberry ice cream.

- driving on route 9 out to Natick, because you can roll down the window and stick your head out like a dog.

- the television show 24, because Jack Bauer is god and also my future husband. Also I enjoy violence. What can I say? Sometimes I think being raised a Quaker has backfired.

- coffee. no explanation needed.

- exercise. because if you do it in a non ED way like I'm trying to, it can feel fun and liberating.

- the Boston Globe crossword puzzles, because up until Thursday and Friday they are super easy and make people of average intelligence like me feel smart.

-ordering stuff online, because you don't have to go out and see people, plus when it arrives in a package you feel like you're getting a present :)

Hmmm... that's all for now I guess.

Tidbits

Just finished clipping Georgia's claws. I feel a little stupid because she is after all, a guinea pig, and most pigs don't need at ton of grooming. Whatever. It's fun and I'm bored.

Tonight I made gorgonzola fettuccine for the family and it was quite good if I do say so myself. I've volunteered to cook more often since my mom is going back to work and won't have a ton of time to make dinner when she gets home in the evenings. Aren't I such an angel of a daughter? Plus I love food and it's a surprisingly good DBT skill.

Tomorrow should be my first Psych class... but I wonder... Labor Day is usually given off for school and work. Oh well. It's not until six so I have time to figure it out.

So I heard back from a possible candidate for my new head doctor. Her name is Dr. Gordon and she lives around here I think. I hope she's not pretty. I begrudge pretty doctors. They're greedy. It's like, is it not enough to have a Phd? You really need beauty to boot? I put the message she left me on speaker phone so my brother could help me analyze her voice and tone. She seems nice. She's quiet and soft spoken, maybe a little overly formal, but that's hard to determine without a face. Jake agreed with my assessment, but thinks she might be attractive.

"She sounds hot." He said. "Sorry."

I just want September to be over. You know that horrible Green Day song, "Wake me up when September Ends"? That's how I'm feeling. I've managed to go a week without bingeing but a week is not enough time to have lost all the weight I want to lose. I'm so done with being chubby. I've done the math though, and based on past experience, if I follow a moderately restrictive diet, it should only be one month till I'm normal sized again, two months till I'm thin, and three months till I'm skinny. God that's such a long time. I don't have that kind of time!

Yesterday I saw the movie Going the Distance, with Drew Barrymore and Justin Long. It was so cute and hilarious and not at all like other generic romantic comedies. I highly recommend it.

Elephant in the room

For the past month or so I have been sort of tip toeing around admitting this, but for the sake of recovery and for the sake of this blog I think it's important to just get it out. I'm overweight. Not by a lot. Not by enough for doctors to staple my stomach shut and put on me on all liquid diet but certainly a good ten pounds over. It's not my eating disorder telling you this by the way, in case you're sitting there rolling your eyes and saying, "OH god, EVERYONE who has an eating disorder thinks they are too heavy." When I entered the Day Program in March I was thin. I wasn't skinny like I was last fall because I'd just started bingeing, but I was thin. I actually managed to maintain that normal thin weight all throughout program which was awesome, but then I was discharged, and all hell broke loose. Since then I've put on about thirty pounds. THIRTY POUNDS. Thirty pounds, and none of it was actually necessary to restore.

I'm saying this because I feel like I've lost what I liked most about myself, and that was my willpower and control over food. How exactly does one go from a total diet and exercise obsessed fiend to a ice cream guzzling couch potato? It just saddens and confuses me. And I know I talk about this all the time, how much I miss being skinny, but I just can't help it. I am not the same person I was a year ago and it breaks my heart.

I guess I hold out a little bit of hope because in reality, I've been overweight before. Freshman year of college was a total death trap for overeating and I really pushed the envelope that year. However, I was stronger then. Much stronger. I was able to lose it slowly and healthfully, over the course of last summer. I was wise-minded about it. I am no longer able to attempt weight loss in that way though. I've tried! I just don't have the patience. Now that I know how much faster restriction works, its like, why do it the old way?

I guess the reason I've been avoiding the subject of being overweight is because I'm embarrassed and ashamed. I have an eating disorder with many faces, some I prefer more than others, and the binge face is the most shameful for me to admit to. I feel stupid thinking I have an ED since I'm heavy, but everything I've learned tells me that it isn't the number which determines your disorder, it's your intent and behavior.

Some day I hope to wake up and realize that my appearance doesn't have to dictate my feelings and actions, that being overweight doesn't mean I'm unloveable and unworthy of happiness. Until then, I'm stuck in a body that keeps me from going back to school, keeps me from wearing pretty clothes, keeps me from calling my friends back, and keeps me from growing up.