Bulimia & the Ocean.

My life is an ocean. A deep and dark ocean, spanning further than I could tell, with no land in sight.

I sink. Further and further. Darker and chilled. I begin to realize that I've been under for too long. Panic sets in.

I jolt, furiously racing upwards. The Binge.

I burst through the surface, and gasp a deep breath. I breathe again, again, and again as the panic starts to fade, and I feel: "you're okay, you're breathing." The Purge.

I rest, floating on my back, allowing the lingering after-effects to hold me up, to cradle me in comfort. But it only lasts a little while. Slowly, I begin to feel myself sinking again. And the cycle repeats.

That is my bulimia in relation to my life. It is a momentary gasp for air, in a suffocating existence. And I can't lie. Part of me loves it.

There is seemingly no better thing, than the feeling that comes over me after purging. I rinse my mouth, wash my face, and clean up after myself. I stumble out of the bathroom into a haze of nothingness. Emptiness. I am empty. Physically, yes. But more so, I hear nothing, I feel nothing, I see nothing. The noise is quiet, the harsh lights dim, and the pain subsides. It is the calm after the storm. Bingeing and purging is painful, but it is rewarded with a type of peace. If only for a little while.

And that is the problem. I know the peace, the freedom of an empty mind, is a lie. It is only an illusion, because it isn't lasting. It is not a resolved peace, but rather, a fleeting comfort that holds itself to no promises.

In the ocean, the issue isn't "how can I keep my head above water long enough to survive the next sinking?". The real question I should be asking is "WHY am I sinking at all? What is so heavy, so burdensome, that it would drag me to the ocean floor, and, if not for the instantaneous rescue of a damaging coping mechanism, drown me there?"

The reality is, one day, all of the bursting energy lifting me to the surface, will fade. I will become weaker. My body will fail me, no longer just in my thoughts, but in the literal sense of flesh and bone. And my last thoughts will most likely not be ones of comfort, but of regret. "I should have sought release from the heaviness, no matter how hard it would have been." Eventually I would have found my way to the surface, and stayed there, I would have breathed freely.

Instead, I face one final sinking.

Healing Hurts.

Tonight finds me broken. Crying. Hurt.

As all of the distractions I have continually used begin to fall away one by one, I'm left with hollow space. It's empty. There's nothing and no one to fill it.

I've had to grow up so much in the last year. Alone. And its been terrifying yet satisfying at the same time. I focused on ANYTHING but the terrifying part of it all. Unfortunately, when all of the other things to focus on are stripped away, there it lies, waiting for you. And it finally surfaces.

All the fear, worry, loneliness, difficulty, and stress suddenly rushes over me all at once. I've gone through so much. Alone. I had a supportive boyfriend during that time, good friends, and a wonderful treatment team. But the truth is, its hard for me to really be genuine with people. So, inevitably, I trick people into thinking that they know who I am and are close to me...but my reality is very different. I often feel like I don't genuinely connect with anyone because of my inability to be honest and vulnerable. I lose touch with people easily, I flake out on plans with people and lie about the reasons why.

It's lonely. And I don't know how to even begin to be who I really am. I don't even KNOW who I really am. I don't know what makes me happy, I'm never really in touch with what I'm feeling, nor can I articulate it, I have a few hobbies but I don't put very much effort into them because I'm sure I'm awful at them anyway. I don't even know what my personality is really like. All I really know in that area, is that I'm INCREDIBLY stubborn.

I don't know anymore. I'm just alone. And I've always had an aversion to being alone. That's why I've always had to have a boyfriend or some sort of love interest. But I know that I NEED to be alone right now. I just wish it didn't suck so bad. I keep telling myself that this is the first time I've ever really allowed myself to explore and be focused on myself, not someone else, so of course its painful and scary. And much to my dismay, I can't speed up the process.

 Healing takes however long it takes.

I hate to say it, but I still love my bulimia. It's the only form of identity I've ever had.

X.

Here we go again...

Well, I've now entered a full-blown relapse. I'm back to bingeing and purging multiple times a day. I've lost about 5 pounds in the last week and a half from the relapse.

It all happened incredibly fast. My last boyfriend and I broke up about 2 months ago. I was okay for a while, I was actually starting to move on...and then he sucked me back in. That was about 3 weeks ago. And then he ended up telling me that he doesn't even really think about me anymore and was incredibly cruel in some of the things he said to me. It didn't make any fucking sense. First, he wants me around, and then he doesn't.

I completely lost it. My sanity was rocked by that asshole and his games, and I couldn't fight the urges anymore. I gave in, and have been on a spiral back into my bulimia and self-injury. I've cut about 4 times in the last 2-3 weeks.

The thing is, I don't really want to stop. I want to get back to the weight I used to be before inpatient. Bulimia, as destructive as it is, makes me feel better. I know it shouldn't, but it really does give me an identity. It's mine. Bulimia is there for me when no one else is. It never leaves me, never abandons me. Lady Gaga once said, "My music will never wake up next to me one day and tell me it doesn't love me anymore." Honestly, that's how I feel about my bulimia. It has comforted me when no one else did. It lulls me to sleep at night when I'm restless and sad. It gives my mind a release when I need a break from the storm of thoughts and noise that flood it. It brings me peace, even if its from physical weakness and fatigue, it is still SOME sort of peace.

About a month ago I told my therapist, "Instead of talking about it all the time, part of me just wants to accept that it will always be a part of who I am, put it in the back of my mind, and go on with life. Maybe I can manage it to a certain degree over the course of my life, but I'm tired of talking about it and fighting it constantly." I guess I should have known that I was heading for a relapse at that point.

I am, once again, hurting and broken....and I don't know any other way to handle it.

Friday Night.

I'm at work, getting ready to leave with a few of my co-workers to grab some dinner and drinks. I'm so glad this week is over, it's been crazy at work, and crazy at home. I've felt very chaotic lately. My place even looks chaotic. Clothes thrown everywhere, my bed is never made, my garbage can is completely full, my pantry is disheveled and there are empty boxes/bags still left in there. Ugh, its a mess. I guess that will be my Saturday....cleaning.

I've been doing better about getting up early to practice....as long as I go to bed on time. It's like, as soon as I actually get in bed, I WAKE UP. It's ridiculous. But my practice is getting better. Slowly but surely. I hate having to wait for things to happen.

As far as food goes, I'm again, chaotic and all over the place. Some days I do fine and eat "clean" and feel good. Some days I binge and purge. Some days I eat things that don't make me feel good, but don't purge. I don't have a game plan, a meal plan, or even a shopping list. I don't know where to start. I hate to admit it....but I think I need a dietitian again.

Anyway, I'm off for drinks! I hope all of you have a wonderful weekend.

X

7/21/2013

Just finished my Primary Series practice. I'm tired, but I feel good. I can tell I made quite a bit of process by the way my muscles are already starting to feel. The "full" practice of Ashtanga is done 6 days a week, with Saturdays off. I'm working up to that, but right now I'm at 4 or 5 days a week. Traditionally you do the practice early in the morning before sunrise, but I find it ridiculously difficult to get myself up that early, even if I've had a full 8 hours of sleep throughout the night. In fact, I have issues waking up at all! I think I have thyroid issues, but no doctor has ever said anything about it, even when I've had labs done (multiple times). I don't know...My psychiatrist prescribed Trazodone to help me fall asleep, but I'm terrified to take any sort of med that induces sleep because it's nearly impossible for me to wake up on them, so I haven't actually taken it.

Anyway, as far as food....I've done pretty well with just eating when I'm hungry and not binging or purging. The problem is, I still don't know WHAT to eat, or how much to eat. It's frustrating, and sometimes it makes me feel so crazy. I hate cooking, I despise it....but I'm trying. I'm trying to navigate my way through this whole recovery mess. Right now, that's exactly what it is. A mess. Maybe I'll post some of the recipes I try.

I hope all is well with all of you out there.

X

Love the transformation of this girl <3 p="">

7/14/2013

So sorry for the lapse in posting...particularly for the last year >.<

 I moved out!

 I'm in my own place, working my own job, driving my own car, paying my own bills.....and it's awesome. I'm loving the freedom, the independence, and the quiet time. I've always been a person that needs "me time". I love being around people, but I also need some time to myself, to unwind for the day.

I'm currently working 40 hours a week, I do my traditional Ashtanga yoga practice every morning (or sometimes evening) 6 days a week, still see my therapist every week, and started seeing a new psychiatrist. Those are the "staple" activities of my week. I also make time to go out with friends, mostly on the weekends, and spend plenty of time with my boyfriend, without being attached to his hip every second.

It's.....refreshing.

It's literally like a breathe of fresh air to be okay on my own. To not be co-dependent, financially dependent, or feel lazy. It's wonderful.

That being said, I am still struggling with the bulimia. I've found myself feeling like my head is going to explode trying to think about what to eat, when to eat, how much to eat, etc... That's one part of recovery that I never really grasped. When I was inpatient, the model that was used was "intuitive eating", which can be great, depending on the person and the progression of the eating disorder. I DON'T think it was beneficial for me at all. I mean, I'm bulimic....I don't know what a "normal" portion is. I don't know what "moderate" hunger is supposed to feel like. I don't know where the line is between still hungry and "full". I used to binge and purge 10 times a day or more, and I've never had "normal" eating habits. My body has been fucked with so much that I don't get normal hunger/fullness signals.

There are so many questions....how do I eat a "binge food" in moderation? What IS moderation? What if I feel too full? What if I'm still hungry? Where is the line between too much and too little?

Ugh. I don't know. I'm trying to figure it out. I keep going back and forth...some days I'll do nothing but binge and purge. Other days, I don't purge, try to eat in moderation, but I'm always worried in the back of my head about if I've eaten too much. Then there's the issue of my body. I don't love it. I don't like it. I feel trapped in it. I want to lose weight.

Some days, my yoga practice helps me appreciate my body. Other days....not so much. Especially when I kick up into a handstand and am trying to work on balance, but my body won't cooperate for as long as I would like. Sometimes I get mad at my body.

Anyway, that's my updating/rambling/venting session. I will try to update at least 3 times a week from now on! I will be catching up on all of your blogs to see what you've all been up to!

X

It's been a long week...

I'm struggling. I'm bingeing and purging, or sometimes just purging, about twice a day, sometimes more. I'm tired, and starting to get those old chest and stomach pains that I used to have.

Today in particular was pretty rough. It started off as a pretty bad body image day to begin with, then I got some bad financial news while I was at work, so I got pretty stressed (and still am), and when I got home, I decided to work on my handstands in yoga. That DID NOT go as planned. I ended up in a ball on the floor crying about how my body won't balance in inversions because I'm too fat.

And then I purged dinner.

Tomorrow I'm taking a half day at work. I have some errands to run, and I'm seeing my therapist around noon. Maybe shaking up my "routine" a bit will help with the urges.

I'm counting down the days until I move out. I'm so excited about having my privacy back and my own space.

X