Food for Thought

Hello, anyone who cares.

So it's been about five days since I've updated.  A lot has seemed to change.  I didn't mention last week that my doctor took me off of my Lithium and put me on Celexa for my depression.  I didn't think it was a very good idea to cold-turkey me off the Lithium, but I didn't think to say that to her until after I left.  I could have easily weened myself off of it by cutting the doses myself, but I didn't, so I just stopped it and started the Celexa as directed.

Well, since then, things have been a little different, and I'm sort of surprised.  I'm not sure if it's a placebo effect or if the med is actually working already (doubt it), or if it's because I was cold-turkeyed off the Lithium and I'm hypomanic.  But in any case, for starters, I'm apparently no longer physically capable of taking naps.  I wake up around 8am instead of 10am, and do my usually first-waking-up things, and then I try to go back to bed but I just lay there with my eyes wide open and stare at the wall because I'm unable to even keep them close and I'm so awake.  I'm not even tired!! But I lie down anyway for a good hour until I think of something I can actually do since I can't sleep.  It's really hard.  Another thing is I do have a better mood.  Yesterday I went into work and I was so chipper and excited to be there practically.   I was extra pleasant to every customer and did extra work that I didn't necessarily have to do.  I even made a list of things to do at the self-checkout for whomever to look at when they're bored (although I'm guessing by the time I go in tomorrow, someone will have thrown it in the trash).  I don't know what came over me though - it was really weird.

As for eating, I'm eating less but, as of today, I'm not really eating "anorecticly" (just thought I'd make up a word there).  For example, I didn't eat a lot today, but what I did eat were fear foods for the most part.  Today was a big jump from normal, and I didn't really think of it making me gain weight for the most part.  I weighed myself tonight, after I'd eaten all that crap today, and I weighed the same as I did the other morning which means I lost a pound or two (since the food and diet sodas I'd had probably made me weigh about that much more).  I'm not quite sure, really, what I thought of that.  I kind of just mindfully weighed myself without judging the number.  Which is actually amazing, recovery-wise.  I don't know where I am overall.  I think I'm just having good days and bad days.  Because yesterday all I had to eat was two ice pops and half of a roast beef sandwich, and today I had junk.  Hmm.  Food for thought.

October Depression

October has come and it's been rough.  This is my favorite month of the year, because it is so pretty and peaceful nature-wise, but it is one of two months that leave me in a deep depression (November being the other one - my father died in said month).  So this being a naturally depressing month for me on top of already being super depressed... I can't take it.

As far as my pseudo-recovery goes, it's not going; however, it's not as bad as it was before I was hospitalized (maybe the hospital did do something for me?).  I'm not weighing myself every day, but often enough I suppose.  I'm maintaining the five pounds I'd lost since being discharged, so that's a good sign recovery-wise.  I just can't get over, though, the thought of gaining weight.  I still want to lose weight.  I don't want to eat anything with fat in it.  I'm restricting both food and fluids.  Living off of Diet Pepsi and ice pops and occasionally food my mom makes (she's been trying to cook since I've been home).  I'm back to smoking a pack-and-a-half of cigarettes a day.  So basically, not much is different from before I was hospitalized except for 1) I'm not restricting as much, 2) I'm not weighing myself every day, and 3) I weigh 6lbs more than I did at admission.  I want to say that I'm so, so sorry that I've let everyone down, but I know I should really be sorry to myself because I'm doing this to myself and causing more problems.  But the problem is, I just can't come to terms with taking care of myself and eating properly without having a problem with how I look.  When you have an eating disorder and a professional in the mental health field, who knows of your ED, asks if you're pregnant, it leaves a scar.  I can't say I totally blame her for it but that is what influenced me to relapse, along with already budding body image troubles (worse than normal recovering issues) at the time of her comment.

I saw my psychiatrist today and we talked about my hospital stay and what it did for me (or in this case, did not do), and she asked why I thought I was struggling if I have a job and a boyfriend (because apparently both of those things = forever happiness).  I told her I think that one of the big reasons for now at least that I have an eating disorder is that I'm trying to hang on to my childhood.  When I'm sick people take care of me and I feel nurtured and cared about, and I didn't necessarily have that growing up.  Also, being sick almost sort of waives me from adult responsibilities.  I leave work early for having chest pains, for example, or I get an early break because I feel dizzy.  This is not why I engage in eating disordered behavior, but just examples of how it affects my responsibilities.  I mean, I guess that is part of why, as I just clearly stated that beforehand, but I don't want it to seem like I'm an irresponsible little bitch... but I guess I am.  I don't even know how to do half the things I probably should know how to do at age twenty.  I don't know much about being an adult.  I haven't experienced many adult things yet, and half of the reason why is because it scares me.  Growing up scares me.  I know you're probably thinking, Get with the program and deal with it like the rest of the world, and you're absolutely right.  I beat myself up for it.  But something just holds me back.  I don't want to do anything new, especially not by myself, but I can't have the world hold my hand anymore.

In other news, I'm pretty proud of myself (so far) because so far today I haven't taken a single nap (shocking!).  I don't really feel tired when I take naps, I just get bored so I sleep to kill time.  I don't want to be awake and experience anything.  I just want to escape to dreamland.  But anyway, I didn't take a nap today yet, but I probably should because I'm closing the store tonight and I know I'll be really tired if I don't take one because I went to bed a little before dawn and had about 3-4 hours of sleep because I had to wake up for my appointment.

I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while (if anyone cares), but I just haven't felt like it.  If anyone is interested in reading my pathetic blog anymore, then I suppose I will try to update more often.

Disappointment

Today was a disappointing day.  I'm not so much disappointed in myself as I'm sure others are disappointed in me.  I weighed myself today for starters, and I've lost four pounds since Monday.  I didn't try to lose the weight, it just sort of happened.  I completed all of my meals yesterday, but I can't say the same for today.  I pretty much skipped breakfast except for a glass of grape juice.  I almost completed for the rest of the day though, so I suppose that almost makes up for it (not really).  I went for two walks today.  It felt really good, especially since I was locked up on an eating disorders unit for eleven days with no exercise.  I wrote out my menu for tomorrow - I keep a little dry-erase board on the fridge with my meals for the day - and I was overwhelmed while doing so.  It feels like so much food, and so much preparation (it's really not a lot of preparation though), and I just don't feel like putting in the effort.  I don't want to try anymore.  I want to give up and go straight back to the eating disorder.

I have a therapy session tomorrow, so I suppose it would be good to talk with her about it, even though she doesn't understand at all and will probably just give me some bullshit responses like, "you just have to eat."  Well, no shit, Sherlock.  I don't want to eat.  I don't want to gain weight, and I don't want you to sit there and point out the obvious and then clearly express your disappointment in me.  But the problem is, I don't know what I do want.  I don't know what I'm getting out of living the way I do.  I suppose not much, but I'm not comfortable with eating so much yet.  I suppose I want to be happy like every other normal person, and I know that recovery will show me a glimpse of that (maybe?), but I'm just not ready.

My mother has taken a sudden interest, after five years of my struggling, in my "recovery" and asked while I was in the hospital for information on eating disorders.  We read some of the information together last night, but now she doesn't feel like reading anymore.  She just thinks there's nothing she can do so why bother basically.  At least she tried, I suppose.  I guess there really is nothing she can do, and I'm not sure if I'd want her to do anything anyway.  It's much easier if she just ignores it like she always has.  Much easier for me to relapse anyway.  I don't consider myself in recovery right now.  I just consider myself partially stable for the moment.  I don't know what's going to happen from here on out, but whatever happens, I just have to deal with it.

Trying

So, there is a lot to say.  I returned home from the hospital yesterday afternoon.  I was there for only 11 days.  While I was there I completed all of my meals, despite the fact that I really didn't want to, nor did I feel a single bit of hunger the entire time I was there.  I barely interacted with the other girls for the first half of my stay there.  I just wasn't myself.  Usually I am very sociable and bubbly, but I spent most of my time there (while I wasn't in group) isolating in my room.  I barely spoke up in groups except for yesterday morning in psychotherapy.  The treatment team obviously wasn't very happy about this, and threatened to take away my weekend passes if I didn't contribute in groups, socialize, and stay out of my room.  I had the same therapist I had the last two times, which was good because I like her and she knows me well already; however, she's a real hard ass, but I suppose I need that.  Most of the girls there were great (there was one who really annoyed me the whole time) and some of them hugged me when I left and gave me notes, and one even made me a bracelet (which was too big for my wrist so I wear it as an anklet).  I gained eleven pounds while there, and am still a bit underweight, but I'm not really interested in gaining any more weight.  I'm not extremely underweight, only a couple of pounds.  I'm at about 86% of my IBW.  And they discharged me at this weight so I guess it's fine.  I didn't quit smoking because the whole time I was there I was going crazy for a cigarette.  They had me on the patch and the nicotine gum, and I was also given Klonopin because the need for a cigarette was making me so overly anxious I thought I was going to die.  But the Klonopin helps with the regular anxiety I have anyway, so the doctor gave me a script for it on my way out.  The sad part in all this, for which I'm sure some of you might be disappointed in me, is that I've realized the whole time I was there that I don't really want to get better.  I'm not ready.  And I told them that.  However, when I came home I still ate and am still eating (already ate breakfast) and I've planned meals for this week and went food shopping with my mom and brother.  I figured I will give it a try anyway even though I'm still really depressed and don't feel like eating.

A friend I met in a previous treatment may be staying with us next month when she gets out of inpatient because she lives in a neighboring state but her partial will be 20 minutes from my house and she has no way to really get there every day, Monday through Friday without staying somewhere close by.  This is another reason why I decided to try recovery because she is really sick and I don't want to trigger her in any way if and when she stays with us.  We both figured we can help each other out and maybe plan our meals together too.  I hope it works out.

I haven't weighed myself this morning so I'm just telling myself I weigh the same as I did yesterday when the doctor told me.  I'm trying hard not to think about it.

I'm going to try to be more productive.  I'm not as depressed as I was when I wasn't eating, obviously, but it's still there pretty strong.  I don't go back to work until Sunday so I will have a lot of free time to myself, and that means a lot of opportunities to sit on my ass or sleep like I love to do.  I'm going to go for walks (when there's better weather because it's supposed to rain for the next two days or so) and I'm going to keep reading the book I'm working on (it's really good!).  I'm happy to be able to enjoy a book because it's been so long since I've even thought about reading one.  I'm always either too depressed or can't focus, but this book is amazing.  It's The Help.  I've actually already seen the movie (which was awesome!) and for me that makes it easier to read because it's very close to the book (except for the ending I've been told) and I can picture the characters from the movie and their voices and mannerisms.  Also, my mom and I plan to cook almost every night (BIG change there) so I will actually be learning how to cook.  It was a more exciting idea when I was sick, for some reason.

Anyway, I don't know how things will turn out, but I'm trying.  That's all I can do for now I suppose.

Hypothyroidism & Last Sick Post

So here's how my day went:  I woke up and had to go to work with my mom because I had an appointment with the clinician around the corner from my mom's building (in the same building all my other appointments are in).  We got there and I slept in her car until it was time to take me to my appointment.  When I got to see the APN, Victoria, she reviewed my labwork that I'd gotten last week.  Apparently I have hypothyroidism so she prescribed me something for it, as well as an acne cream and birth control to regulate my hormonal imbalance.  I left and went back to my mom's work, but slept in her car for a few more hours until it was time to go home.

On the ride home my phone rang.  It was the hospital.  They want me to come in tomorrow morning to be admitted.  That was such a huge relief to finally get the call.  We got home and I took yet another nap (Victoria said that the hypothyroidism is what could be causing me to be sleepy all the time) before going to get my meds at the pharmacy and stopping by work to get my disability papers and my last pack of cigarettes.  I'm quitting smoking since I won't be able to smoke there at all anyway, so I think it's the perfect opportunity.  Anyway, we got all that done and I said goodbye to Jen, who was working tonight, and gave her the address to the hospital and told her I would call her and tell her when visiting hours are.

I got home and ate some ice pops.  All I ate today was 4 ice pops, a popsicle and some pickles.  I hung out with my mom for a bit, took a shower, and waited for her to go to bed so I could go on the computer.  Now it's about 1am and I'm getting ready for bed early since I have to wake up early.  I probably won't fall asleep for a few hours anyway, but it's worth a shot.

This will be my last update until I return from treatment, at which point I will be in recovery and there will be no more weigh-ins or anything of that sort.  I'm going to try to develop a healthy relationship with food and eat healthily when I return.  I pray that this works for me and that it is the last time I have to be hospitalized.  Wish me luck.

Oh, the Anticipation...

I couldn't really sleep last night.  I have this thing I do, that I'm guessing is from anxiety, where I feel tight pinches (that's the best way I can describe it) in my joints and shoulders, neck, arms, etc. and they get so tight that I have to clamp up my arms and legs and neck to make it feel better.  I've had this problem off and on for about six years or so, and no one knows what it is.  But I just guess that it's anxiety.  Anyway, this woke me up again last night, and the worst part is, is that there's no way that I know of to make it go away.  So I didn't sleep well until later when I slept during the day (so grateful that I'm able to do that, otherwise I'd be more of a zombie than I already am).

I woke up and weighed in.  I lost another pound.  The sick part of me feels like this still isn't good enough.  I waited anxiously all day for a call from the hospital, but to no avail.  I'm praying they call me tomorrow.  I have to go to work today to pick up disability papers, but I'm scared everyone will be like, Why aren't you here if you're home? and get upset.  So I'm thinking about sending my mom in instead.  But then if they ask her questions I'm scared she's gonna tell them that I am still home and not in the hospital.  My co-worker texted me last night, because I posted a picture on Facebook, saying, "You're home?"  and I had to explain to her what the situation was.  I'm going to die if I'm not in the hospital this week because I told work not to put me on the schedule for the week since I was sure I was going this week.  This all just creates more anxiety for me and my body cannot take it in its fragile state.  I just wish the freaking hospital would call already.  I have to go to work with my mom tomorrow because our house is being bombed because we have a pest problem, ew.  I really want them to call me tomorrow but I will feel weird taking such a personal call while I'm at work with my mom.

Anyway, we have to do laundry tonight and finish cleaning and covering things for the bombing tomorrow so I will be busy all night.  I was thinking about just cleaning my whole room and reorganizing, but I don't know where to start and it's such a small space and a lot of stuff.

May or may not post later.

What a Good Day

Today was a pretty good day.  I lost a pound from yesterday and I felt good.  This morning my mom and I went for a walk to the corner store.  It was about a twenty minute walk both ways.  Anyway, the morning breeze was nice, although I wish I'd brought a sweater.  I never do things like that with my mom, but she promised me she would.  She's supposed to do cardio exercises for her high blood pressure issue.  I know she probably won't start walking with me, especially because it's getting colder out and she's a person who can't stand it if it's under 85 degrees outside.

I got back to the apartment and got ready and then took a nap before my sister arrived to pick me up.  We went to the bowling alley/arcade that we went to last time I saw her.  My niece and nephew were there as well.  We got there and played in the arcade for a while, and then my brother-in-law, Joe, showed up.  So then we decided we would bowl for a while.  They ordered food but I just had a diet soda.  I know it upset my sister.  We bowled two games and left.  It was fun.

Joe and Joey (my nephew) left and Jess (my niece), my sister and I went to Walmart because she had to pick up a few things.  I got a new belt, a new wallet and a bandanna for my friend.  We went to a couple of other places and then she took me home.

I took a nap when I got home and then we went to the liquor store for my mom and I bought another pack of cigarettes (I'd bought one at the corner store this morning).  Then I took another nap, woke up, took another nap, woke up around midnight and have been up since.

So today was a pretty good day.  Tomorrow we're running a few errands and doing laundry and cleaning, and I'm also going to work to get my disability papers.  I'm anxious for Monday because I'm hoping to get that call from the hospital telling me when I can come in.  I'm still worried maybe they don't think I'm sick enough and that I'll not be able to go.