Can I?

I don’t know if I can…

I’ve been planning for my service dog for the past 6 months and now I’m panicking.

Can I do this? Is this the right choice? Am I being selfish? Will Avery be okay? Do I have what it takes? Am I worthy? Will this be a crutch? Will it be worth it? Can I do this?

These questions…constantly swirling in my mind.

I’m terrified.

This dog could either be a beautiful thing or a horrible mistake. Or is there grey area?

Could it be hard but also worth it? Can I make mistakes but not fail? Will Avery be jealous but still be okay?

Am I doing the right thing? Will I ever know? Is this one of those moments where you say you only live once and take the plunge?

Or do you back out knowing logistically it’s a huge commitment?

How do I know which is the right choice?

Am I a bad person for doing this? And am I also a bad person if I back out of doing this?

Are all of these questions my wise mind or are they coming from my insecurities and fear?

The exhaustion, it’s real, it’s here…

I just want the questions, the doubts, the fears to go away…The anticipation is killing me.

A part of me wants to back out and waste away…ohh the anorexia is so appealing right now. She is calling my name and it sounds so sweet.

Can I do this? Should I do this?

Am I changing my life for the better or am I turning down a path of no return?

I’m exhausted…

 

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A Sick Mind Living in a Recovered Body

Prison.

That’s what it feels like.

Prison.

Having a sick mind in a recovered body feels even more horrible than having a sick mind in a sick body.

At least having a sick body made me feel like my pain was worth something. At least the pain wasn’t invisible. At least people could see. At least I didn’t feel crazy. At least I was skinny.

Now I live in a recovered body and I’m not dying but my mind is still very much stuck in the sickness, the pain, the torture, the fear, the shame.

Now I’m sick but no one can see. I’m sick but my pain is invisible. I’m sick and I don’t look it. I’m sick and feel crazy. I’m sick and the pain is worth nothing.

I miss my sick body. Some days are worse than others, but lately all the days seem to be horrible.

I want my bones to show again. I want my stomach to be concave again. I want my thighs to be as far apart as the east is from the west again. I want to be fragile again. I want to feel high again. I want people to stare again. I want people to be scared for me again.

I miss my sick body.

And yet, in order to get my sick body back I would have to lose so much. My job. My school. My puppy. My apartment. My friends. My family.

I don’t want to lose those things but sometimes (a lot of the time) I would still rather have my sick body than all of those other wonderful things.

Prison.

I’m stuck in the prison that is my body.

I am a sick mind living in a recovered body.

 

Utter Exhaustion

I lie propped up in bed where I’m supposed to be doing homework.

I have reached a place of utter exhaustion. Fighting for your life is exhausting. Especially when it seems the world is fighting against you.

About a little over a month ago I reached a point of giving up. I fell captive to anorexia with hopeless defeat. I plummeted in a matter of a single day. For about 3 weeks I ate little to nothing and starting purging when I felt I’d eaten “too much”. I quickly lost control. My hair started falling out and my blood pressure dropped to 84/51. I lost xx pounds in only a couple weeks. I was weak, I was freezing cold, I was dizzy, and exhausted. I could no longer think clearly. I was a mess.

In the beginning stages of my eating disorder I could go months doing what I can only maintain now for a couple weeks before my body gives out.

I guess after years of abuse, one’s body simply can’t handle what it used to.

I’m fighting to get back on track. I’m eating. I’m not purging.

And it fucking sucks.

All of the reasons I started using behaviors again are slapping me in the face and knocking the wind out of me.

As hard as I try, I feel like I’m fighting again the world.

I’m completely and utterly exhausted. And tonight, the 11 bottles of pills I’ve saved up over the years are looking like a really good option…

The Power of a Moment

Needed this song tonight. Feeling hopeless and broken. Feeling like a burden to those around me and wanting so bad to give up. I wan the pain to be over.

But God keeps me going, and sometimes it is through little things like a song.

demons

Not For a Moment by Meredith Andrews

You were reaching through the storm
Walking on the water
Even when I could not see
In the middle of it all
When I thought You were a thousand miles away
Not for a moment did You forsake me
Not for a moment did You forsake me

CHORUS
After all You are constant
After all You are only good
After all You are sovereign
Not for a moment will You forsake me
Not for a moment will You forsake me

You were singing in the dark
Whispering Your promise
Even when I could not hear
I was held in Your arms
Carried for a thousand miles to show
Not for a moment did You forsake me

Chorus

And every step every breath You are there
Every tear every cry every prayer
In my heart at my worst
When my world falls down
Not for a moment will You forsake me
Even in the dark
Even when it’s hard
You will never leave me
After all

Chorus

Not for a moment will You forsake me

Catch 22

The last few months have been incredibly difficult, and while I am aware of some of what has been causing such pain, there are other aspects of my life where I just feel out of the loop. I walk into my therapist’s office twice every week and recently there has been a theme. I don’t know what is wrong and yet I’m a mess. She asks what is going on…I don’t know…she asks what I need…I don’t know…it’s really quite frustrating and makes me feel as though I need to get over myself and get my shit together. And yet, the pain and emotions are so real I don’t know how to ignore them.

I suppose this is why I haven’t been blogging much. It’s hard to write about my life when I can’t even seem to figure it out in my head.

lost

Everything is so chaotic and counterintuitive.

I’m depressed and yet I find myself resisting seeing a doctor or getting back on medication.

I want to restrict and yet I need to keep my life together.

I want to SH to end up in the ER and be taken care of but I don’t want to end up in the ER.

I want to feel connected to people and yet I turn down opportunities to do so.

I want the pain to end but I don’t want to die.

I want to get high but I don’t want to eat.

I get high anyways.

And then I eat.

My weight hasn’t been this high in a long time and I am panicking. And yet I can’t seem to lose weight because I can’t seem to not get high every day. Because if I don’t get high I don’t get a break from the pain.

It’s all a catch 22.

I’m hurting. I’m stuck. I’m alone.

And I don’t know how to fix it…

The Good ‘Ole Holidays

As I head home for the holidays I am flooded with such a dysfunctional mix of emotions. I love Christmas and I love my family and yet I’m also reminded of my past through every second of these holiday months. The societal emphasis on this season is so great that it only makes memories associated with this time more difficult to combat.

On Thanksgiving I get to remember my brain surgeries and months of hospital stays during my Junior year of high school. I’m also reminded of all the Thanksgivings spent with my family during the years my parents were still together. And yet it doesn’t end there…because these memories aren’t about remembering the joy spent with my family as a child but rather the constant fear I lived in for 17 years.

Then on Christmas I get a bit of a continuation of these family memories, except now I am remembering a time of year that was the most grand of all growing up. We always went all out: tons of presents, lots of decorations, church, music, baking, everything you can think of to describe the Christmas season.

I’ve always loved Christmas. It is my favorite holiday and it holds a special place in my heart because of our family traditions, but also because of my beliefs. Christmas is a day when I get to celebrate the birth of my Savior. My Savior whom one day will save me from the torture of this world and of the memories that have taken up permanent residence in my mind.

So as I head home, I am so utterly excited to celebrate and also horribly scared of the memories and emotions associated with the holidays.

I head home to a place that is home to my mom and sister (and therefore home to me) but also home to my father, which makes me want to vomit from anxiety. So these are my dilemmas and one’s I’ve been battling for quite a while, and yet no one would ever know…

The Pain of Knowledge

I’ve recently been reflecting a lot on the difference between my life in recovery and my life in my anorexia and how vastly different the two are for me and yet how vague they probably appear to others.

I think for the first time in my recovery I have┬áreached a point where I want so badly to use behaviors for some relief but the amount of knowledge I have about myself and my disease keeps me for being able to do so. Which is good, I suppose, but also extremely frustrating. I’m stuck in this terribly uncomfortable middle ground where I know I can’t use old behaviors but I’m also unsure of how to affectively utilize new, healthy coping behaviors.

I’m stuck having to feel the pain of depression, anxiety, and ptsd, where as in the past I could simply not eat or throw up in order to numb the pain. I know this is a phase of recovery that is very much necessary and important, and at the same time that doesn’t make it any easier. I’ve been stuffing my pain for YEARS (like 18 years..) and now that I am allowing myself the space to feel the pain and not run from it, 18 years is hitting me all at once.

numbing the pain

It’s overwhelming, it’s suffocating, it’s terrifying, it feels like it will never end, and it hurts more than I could ever explain.

But I have to keep going. I have to get out of bed every day. I have to keep talking through it and taking one step after another.

And sometimes it doesn’t feel worth it…sometimes I wonder why I fight so hard. Can I be allowed to give up for once? My whole life I’ve fought like hell. Can I have little break? I’m exhausted.