She's gone

Heather moved out. I prearranged a movie night with Amy during the hours that she would be moving her stuff out of my room so I wouldn't have to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. Now I'm lying down on the carpet in my room, soaking up the empty space. I feel like writing a dark and tortured poem about the loneliness.

One more week of summer. Technically, I guess. I think my brother and sister start school again next week, and that's when my class starts too. My friend Sarah came home for a couple of days before flying back to Seattle for college, and we were THIS close to going to the beach yesterday but something came up and we couldn't get a hold of a car to drive there. I was mighty grateful indeed. Nobody should be subjected to seeing me in a bathing suit right now.

I don't think I'm ready for fall. And NOT because I'm one of those people who lives for the warm weather because I certainly am not. In fact, autumn is my favorite season. It's just that last fall I was so much skinnier and now it's all I can think about again. It's doing that thing where the memories creep into my head at night again and it makes me want to cry!!

So in conclusion, I'm depressed and large. My favorite cousin is gone, and now I want some Nutella.

Long time no blog

I can't remember the last time I went a whole week with no posts. For me, summer sort of creates this false sense of reality where it feels like every day is the same day over and over again. It's not a bad feeling. Since every day is the same as yesterday it feels like there are no responsibilities or consequences.

So here's what I've been doing...

-bingeing quite frequently :( no consequences, right?
-mini golfing almost every day- SO much fun. I finally tied with Jake yesterday. Every once in a while we get the ball in the special hole and win a free round of putting!!!!
-cooking dinners for the family to keep the evening boredom at bay
-watching 24 with Netflix online- best show EVER!!
-shopping around for new therapists, or at least pretending to.
-playing with my new guinea pig. I named her Georgia :)
-arguing with mom about what classes to take this semester

Registering for courses online has been a hellish ordeal. I'm going to be doing night classes at Boston University again, but it sucks because most of the classes I want to take are science classes which involve labs on Tuesdays and Thursdays and those evenings don't work because I have group therapy at MEDA. So it's a poopy situation but I've settled for a Psychology course that meets on Monday evenings. My first class is in a week.

My brother and sister had their yearly physicals yesterday. BOTH of them were told they were underweight and that Rachel especially needs to start packing on the pounds because she is about to hit puberty. Jake is 6'3 and with his rampant teenage metabolism he stays thin as a freaking rail. I hate them. These two eat whatever the hell they want without gaining an ounce. I HATE THEM!!!! My mom says it will catch up with them when they get older, that it won't always be like this, that I was actually underweight too when I was eleven and it's just a kid thing. I hope so. I will not tolerate my siblings being so much thinner than me for long.

Heather is moving out tomorrow! She found an apartment in Somerville and is packing up all her stuff as we speak. No more roommate fun time. It's going to be weird. But on the bright side I'll have my room all to my self again so I can stay up as late as I want without worrying that my reading light is bothering her. I can keep the air conditioner on at 60 degrees all night without her freezing to death. I can watch 24 without headphones in. I can read out loud again! I know that seems a little weird but I like to pretend that I'm doing an audio book and that people are listening to me.

Enter MEDA

I had my assessment today at MEDA. I drove over to Newton with minimal difficulty thanks to my handy dandy GPS (how did we ever get around without them?) and made it on time at 3:00. The place is actually kind of nondescript and plain... at first I wasn't quite sure if was the right place. I don't really know what I was expecting- a nice classic victorian mansion like Day program had? Anyways, I really thought I had screwed up the address or something because west Newton is not as nice as regular Newton. Whatever though. Maybe it just looked a little dismal because of all the rain.

The assessment itself went pretty well. The lady I met with, Amy, was really friendly. She basically used the time to get my history. How old were you when the ED started? Fourteen. Anything in particular that triggered it? High School and gymnastics. Any treatment? Just Day and IOP this past year. Nothing else before that. Any gambling or excessive shopping? No. Any trauma or instances of abuse? No sir. Any self injury? Some. Not recently. Any thoughts of suicide? This question always comes after the self harm one. I paused and said nothing I would ever act on. For the record, when people ask you if you've ever thought about suicide, unless you REALLY have, just say no. Because then she asked what kind of thoughts of suicide and if I'd ever made any attempts. I told her that sometimes after days and days of constant bingeing I feel like there is no end in sight and I wonder what it would be like if I just disappeared for a little bit so I just go to sleep for really long periods of time. She said that's passively suicidal. What was the intent of the self harm? I guess to just distract myself. From? My body. So that's when we finally got back on track with the ED stuff and she told me about some support groups they offer on a weekly basis. I guess the point of this evaluation is so that she can figure out what I need the most and then direct me to it. She should be e-mailing me tonight with a list of names of ED specialists and DBT groups in the area. Good good getting back on track.

Food wise things were fine today. I had two grains worth of cereal for breakfast with milk, and then an egg salad sandwich for lunch. Came a little under at dinner. I had a Cliff Bar and some broccoli. There's this huge part of me that's like, "You've gone a whole week and one day without bingeing! You can totally handle restriction if you want so go ahead and try it out again!!" Argh so frustrating.

Update

It has been exactly one week since my last binge. I cannot remember the last time I was able to go a whole week! Probably back when I was in treatment. Hard to say what's been the primary motivator for me lately... I think it must be weight loss. Weight loss and guilt. Guilt for having to stay home another semester, and for being so huge.

My dad and brother have gotten me totally hooked on the show 24. That's where I've been the past couple days just FYI. Holed up in my room with Jake watching Jack Bauer save the world. AAAaaaah it's so good! I'm about to start the second season.

Tomorrow is my preliminary assessment at MEDA. My parents already went over there the other day to check it out and they said it seems like a great place and the lady who will be seeing me is super nice and friendly. I'm neutral about the idea. My session is at 3:00 which cuts into my gym time so now I don't know when I'll work out.

I think I'm going to start cooking more often. Tonight I made potato fennel gratin as a side dish to my mom's roast chicken and it was super yummy. Might have eaten too much at dinner but all I had for lunch was greek yogurt and a granola bar so I figure it evens out.

Heather is looking at apartments because she is moving out in September. Hard to believe it's been a whole year that she's stayed with my family. Booooo I'm going to miss her. She's sort of become my big sister.

This post is silly and lacking structure so I'll write tomorrow after my assessment.

Dark clouds

Well yesterday was my honest to god last appointment with Dr. Biteme ever. Hopefully the last one. You never know. I'm actually super tempted to go back and see her in another couple months or whenever I lose this weight just to prove to her that I'm capable of restriction. She's always thought that I could never be truly anorexic because whenever I restrict I ultimately end up bingeing at some point, and lately I've been really wanting to prove her wrong. Isn't that twisted?

I've always had moments of sadness and grieving for the loss of my thinner body, but lately, especially at night, it's all I can think about. Certain images are clouding my mind when I try to fall asleep and it's very painful and unnerving. I lie there in bed trying drift off and all I can see is myself 6 months ago- running off to class in my size two jeans, wondering excitedly when I can check my reflection again in the mirror, counting down the days till I go home and all my friends can see how awesome I look. I don't know why these obsessive thoughts and memories are especially bad right now, but they're making my will to lose weight stronger than it's been in a long time.

This week has been good on the food front. No binges since Sunday, and not a lot of restriction either. Exchange wise, I'm probably coming in just ever so slightly under what my meal plan calls for. But this is okay I figure, since I'm still eating when I'm hungry and not ignoring hunger cues. My hope is that after a couple weeks of steady balanced eating, I can start taking out snacks or other exchanges here and there without going into panic binge mode. I don't want it to feel like restriction. Even when I was at a super low weight last fall it didn't really feel like restriction because I had my body totally browbeaten into running on so few calories.

And now it's almost ten o' clock and I am terrified of going to sleep.

And the world continues to turn

Not much to report in the way of news... I'm very sullen and disinterested and it's totally effecting the frequency of my posts.

I bought a Guinea Pig yesterday. My mom sent me to the pet store to buy food for Rachel's hamster and I came home with a Guinea Pig. It was an impulse buy. She's so cute. She is my new best friend.

Anyways, yeah. Sometimes I wish I could just fall off the face off the earth for a couple of weeks. Hide out on an astroid like in The Little Prince. I'm thinking a lot about outer space today. Might have something to do with watching Planet of the Apes for like the fifth time this week. I just really like the part where George Taylor and Dr. Zira kiss.

Tomorrow is my LAST session with Dr. Biteme! That's right, I'm finally cutting her loose! I have been granted/sentenced another semester at home and if I intend on taking another shot at recovery I can't waste any more time letting that woman make me feel like some binge eating dimwit. My mom called her this morning to break the news that tomorrow would be it. I was too scared to do it myself.

I scheduled an assessment next week at the Multiservice Eating Disorders Association (also known as MEDA). Maybe somebody there can help me.

Floundering

Today I binged for the first time since the crisis. I've been having urges a lot lately but the guilt from Sunday has been so fresh in my mind that it's been keeping me at a relative distance from the behavior. Also, since the family has gotten home from Michigan it's been more difficult to get away with bingeing. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but in order to take the car out to the store I'd have to lie and say I was going somewhere else, then when I got home I'd have to sneak around eating ice cream in the bathroom and that is never fun. This weekend however, my dad is in London on business, Heather is at Mike's in the South Shore, my Mom is taking a week long intensive class that will allow her to have a duel teaching license so she can teach High School in addition to middle school, and Jake and Rachel are just kind of off doing their own thing. That being the case, it was not difficult to get away with indulging in my own little food festival.

I guess I'm not going back to school in September. Yesterday I went to the park next to my house and sat on the swings for like an hour and half deliberating. I made a pros and cons list of reasons I should go back vs. stay home but I thought about them for so long that they stopped making sense. It's like when you repeat a word over and over again. Firefly. That's one of those words that loses meaning once you say it enough. Firefly. Really? A bug that flies around with a glowing behind? Really?! It sounds like jibberish to me. Anyways, the point I starting trying to make is that I just feel so broken that I don't really imagine how I could muster the strength to renew my little life in New York. Chair is another good one. Chair. Chair. Chair. It makes just about as much sense as the word zvonk after you say it twenty or so times. I feel a little deflated by my decision actually. For the sake of this blog at least I thought it would get much more interesting when I went back to school and started having a life. Now what? Another five months of me leading this pathetic existence of Nutella and sleeping in till noon? My god what has become of my life?! I swear I wasn't always this boring, you have to believe me! It's hard when you are doomed to do the bidding of an unruly eating disorder 24 hours a day 7 days a week. It doesn't leave much time for hobbies or friends.

I'm doubly worried about how things are going to operate next week since today was my last day of work at camp. Without some sort of occupation in the mornings I'm going to be so tempted to fill the time with bad decisions. I need to come up with a nice long list of places to go that aren't triggering. Maybe Mt. Auburn cemetery. Or Booksmith.

Everyone is losing it

Today a little girl at camp named Lilliana had a meltdown during lunch because the chair she was sitting in was shorter than all the other chairs at the table. We're trying to teach the kids how to be flexible in negative situations, especially this girl in particular because she has a rampant temper when things don't go her way. Anyways, she cried for five minutes about how she wouldn't eat lunch until she had a taller chair. "Your chair is a small problem so it doesn't need big tears." We're supposed to say stuff like that. She finally managed to get herself together and was still hiccuping these little sobs and grumbling under her breath, but when she opened her lunch box she just LOST IT completely. She took out a sandwich, which evidently had been smushed and was now inedible. She started shaking and clenching her fists and then I guess it was like the breaking point in her bad mood because she was screaming and thrashing for a good half hour threatening to never eat again unless someone found her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that didn't resemble the one she had. Eventually I had to bring the devil spawn into another room and wait out the hysterics with her because the two head teachers needed to wrap up lunch with the rest of the kids. I suggested to Lilliana that we write her mom letter explaining how she would want her sandwich next time so this situation wouldn't happen again. I thought my idea was pretty inspired but after I read what she wrote... maybe not so much. I'm sorry, I just had to copy it into this post because it was so intense and hilarious:

Dear Mommy,

A bad thing happened when you put my water bottle in after the sandwich because it smushed it and since germs from the water spills into a peanut butter you can't eat it then. I wish you to know how the real sandwiches are made because that way it wouldn't be all your fault.

Love, Lilliana


I still don't know what to do about this whole going back to school in the fall or the spring dilemma. I really want someone to make the decision for me that way I won't feel like I'm letting anyone down. I hate that awful health services woman for making me have to choose. Maybe I should write her a letter...

A fork in the road

Yesterday I had my phone interview with the director of health services at school. I didn't really feel the need to prepare beforehand because everyone has been telling me that all I need to be is honest with her; honest about how I've been doing lately, honest about how ready I feel to go back to college, honest about the things I've learned in treatment, etc. Based on how I assume these conversations go, I'd give ours a solid B+. I was honest and good-natured, told the truth about going off my meds and how reckless it was. I talked about all the things I'd been involved in outside of treatment for the past six months like part time work at Quaker meeting, summer camp job, and the Anthro class at Boston University. So I was awesome. The conversation would have gotten an A if it weren't for her dissentient and naysaying attitude.

Her two main concerns were that a) I'm still "symptomatic" and b) I showed "questionable judgement" in going off my medication so close to the start of school. When she mentioned the part about me still having symptoms of the ED (i.e. bingeing), it threw me for a loop because I never told her that so she must have read it in the report from Dr. Biteme. I explained very confidently that while I am still having binge episodes, I am able to delay urges now for up to FOUR HOURS before engaging in it, whereas before treatment I usually just gave in the moment I even thought about the word Nutella. She didn't seem comforted by this information very much. I guess a binge is still a binge no matter how long you put it off.

We went back and forth talking about the future and how I plan to continue outpatient treatment in New York but ultimately what she decided is that if I want to request a return to school she'll recommend me to the dean, but with "heavy reservations." I asked her what that meant and she said it means that if I want to go back I probably will be readmitted, but she wants me to strongly consider coming back in the spring instead.

Now I am conflicted and anxious to the point of total despair and I have no idea what to do.

Crazy shit hitting the fan

I think I'm having an psychotic episode because I feel like my chest is really tight and sore and going to burst and I can't stop crying even as I type this. I really want to binge right now and at the same time bingeing is impossible because I am more committed than ever to losing this weight and above all proving that I am stronger than my eating disorder. I had a binge urge about ten minutes ago so I drove to the supermarket to buy ice cream and I hadn't even pulled into the parking lot before something attacked me. Did I just have a binge urge and a restriction urge at the same time only no no no because there are no words to describe what I just went through so no that doesn't work. That is why I think I'm having a real breakdown because I can't relax my lungs and I think I'm choking. Later on I'm going to read this post and realize that everything I'm saying sounds incredibly cliche and hackneyed but I can't care right now because I can't make it stop. Why wouldn't bingeing work? Why couldn't I just buy five fucking jars of Nutella and go home and at least end the urge? WHAT IS GOING ON?! I just want to know why this is happening and why I feel like there is a pillow over my face because did I mention that there isn't any air going in? OH MY GOD. It would be different if I WANTED to binge and waited out the urge but this is something new and weird and very complicated. I want more than anything to WANT to binge but I just don't want to right now. What else am I supposed to do? Every time I talk myself into grabbing the car keys and going back to the store I can't quiet the voices of everyone who wants me to get better. During a binge I usually disregard all the skills and advice I've ever gotten because I don't want to feel guilty but so many reasons not to engage in bingeing are coming to mind right now I just can't ignore them. And as I'm writing this sentence my cheeks are dry so I think I'm done with the sobbing jag and now the only thing that still hurts is my chest and my heart.

Sushi & time machines. Wish I had a time machine.

Just wrapped up a somewhat tedious but altogether wholesome evening with Amy. We ordered sushi and watched Hot Tub Time Machine. At the movie rental place she was like, "You will LOVE this movie I watched it a couple weeks ago and the whole time I could not stop thinking about how much you would LOVE this movie." I was like, great. I wanted to get Shutter Island but whatever. I felt uncomfortable disagreeing with her. Anyways, the movie was so bad I'm actually offended that she thought I would enjoy it. Now I'm wondering to myself, wow. She must think I am the most unsophisticated person in the world. I mean, I love ridiculous movies. I am the first one in the theater when a new Adam Sandler stinker comes out and I am always up for a mindless romantic comedy but Hot Tub Time Machine is just... subhuman. No offense to those of you who liked it.

The sushi was delectable though. I got these vegetarian rolls stuffed with tempura yams and mushrooms and seaweed, then wrapped in mango. It's a good thing we drove home with the food because if we had stuck around I'd have ordered like fifty of them.

Speaking of life on the food front, things are steady for the time being. I'm following the meal plan I was on in program... with a few tweaks here and there that I made. Basically I'm eating three meals and three snacks a day but leaving out five or six exchanges altogether. Dangerous, I know. It's only going to set me up for hunger and frustration, which will ultimately lead to unmanageable binge urges and blah blah blah but at this point I'm so fucking huge I could care less. I have a good thirty pounds to lose. Remember when I used to talk about only needing to drop eight? Ugh. Those were the days. As it stands, about twenty of the thirty pounds are from binges in the past several weeks, and the other ten is just the healthy weight I took back on from eating enough food when I was in treatment. So I guess if I'm being rational I really only need to lose twenty pounds. It's still a lot! And I hate waiting for it to come off! Luckily I'm not weighing myself. I refuse. No good will come of looking at those disastrous numbers because they will only smother my hope of ever being thin again.

Whew! Done with that. I'd like to change the subject so that this post doesn't end on such a sorrowful note. But what to write? Hmmm... have I mentioned how excited I am for my family to come home on Sunday!? I can't wait to see them! I also can't wait to relinquish the plant watering and hamster restoration duties. It will be nice to go back to being a guest in my house as opposed to a caretaker.

Tonight I cook

I think someone once told me that the more time and effort you put into creating what you eat, the more likely you will be to savor and appreciate it. Although maybe no one told me this at all... because come to think of it that assertion sounds a lot more like common sense than a wise observation. So never mind that first part. Tonight I take my first step in a journey of a thousand miles: I re-attempt cooking.

I've definitely fallen into a pattern of thinking that food is just calories so just eat it and be done with it. While this is true, that mindset is not a healthy step towards vanquishing the binge demon (I've been watching a lot of Charmed re-runs), and taking control of my life. For dinner I'm starting relatively simple: baked potato with cheese and then this fancy brussels sprouts dish I found in a magazine. You chop up the sprouts and braise them in olive oil and shallots, then add some brown sugar and mustard and it's actually quite nummy. Heather likes brussels sprouts too so everyone will be pleased. And by everyone I mean all two of us.

The rest of the gang is in Michigan still. I miss them. My brother most of all. I haven't seen him since the beginning of July when he first left to work on the farm. Oh and by the way (maybe I'll talk more about it later maybe not because I don't really feel like going into it right now), I'm not going after all. I'm still not sure what the underlying psychological reasons are behind my reluctance to spend four lovely weeks on the celestial peninsula of Traverse City. I can't remember a summer where I didn't spend at least a month there and now all of a sudden I won't go? Huh. We shall unravel the mystery later on when I have more time.