That is the question
I'm sill feeling hopeful today
.
Yesterdays meeting went better than I thought.
I didn't realise how much my eating disorder was affecting my mother.
I didn't realise she was doing her best to detach and look after herself.
She has been around her fair share of addicts, my father, my fathers family, my sisters and now me.
She used to be an enabler but now she knows that doesn't work
She spoke yesterday of how she is not getting any younger and won't be around forever and she worries what will happen when she is gone.
I don't like thinking about this, my worst fear since I've been a child is that my mother will die but she will die one day and what will I do then.
I live in her house, she supports me in lots of different ways, ways I can't support myself.
I need to be able to look after myself, to be independent. I can't rely on her forever.
So what do I do?
Feeling hopeful does not mean my eating disorder has gone away. I binged and purged multiple times yesterday but it does make me think recovery might be an option, it makes me think that maybe I should go back to my support group. All the signs all telling me to go back, the universe is screaming at me that it is the right thing to do. My old recovery friend contacted me, my treatment friends contacted me.
I was out for a short time yesterday and I ran into 3 people I used to know, 2 I used to work with and 1 from the support group I used to go. All people from my old life when I was happier.
I don't know if they are signs but I took them as signs. I usually never meet anyone when I'm out.
So what's stopping me from going back to recovery?
Step up my 2 old sparring partners fear and anxiety
I would truly love to go back to my support group, I helped set up that group and them I left them.
But I have been in and out of recovery so many times that I don't want to go back unless I am sure I am going to give it a really good go, this is where anxiety comes in. I'm anxious of what everyone will think of me having fucked up again. I know they will probably be happy to see me but the anxiety is still there.
I think of myself as socially handicapped, I feel awkward a lot of the time around people.
My mother told me yesterday that I'm good around people and you would never know I was anxious but I don't feel that way.
Then there is my old buddy fear.
I have a huge fear of life without my eating disorder.
How will I cope with real life after being in addiction for over 10 years?
I fear everything that comes with real life, relationships, college, jobs etc
I fear that I will fail miserably at life.
I guess that means I don't have much belief in myself.
My eating disorder gives me purpose, it gives me a goal, it is something, maybe the only thing I am goo at.
Dare I say it, it makes me feel special.
Take it away and what is left?
Just an average girl.
I suppose I could do what I did with the drugs.
Try recovery for 6 months and if it doesn't work out I can always go back.
This worked for me with the drugs because I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
I guess it's the same now.
I wish I had more courage, that I could just go for it bur the eating disorder is so seductive.
She makes it seem like having an ed is romantic and glamorous.
But what is romantic about having rotten teeth, no period, lanugo
What is romantic about cleaning up vomit stains from the bathroom floor
What is glamorous about purging 10 times a day
What is glamorous about nearly passing out when you stand up
The idea of an ed can seem attractive but the reality is in stark contrast
I am being held hostage by this ed but only I have the power to run away
I have lost the last 10 years to this illness, do I really want to lose another 10?
No thank you very much
So what does this all mean?
I guess it means I 'm in the pre-contemplative stage of making a decision about recovery
I was wondering about you
What is stopping you from choosing recovery?
Why are you holding on to your eating disorder?
I'd love to hear you r thoughts
Thanks for reading this and as always much love to you xxx
Saturday 16 June 2012
Friday 15 June 2012
Hopefully maybe
I had my meeting with Mary and and my mother first thing this morning.
The anxiety had been building inside me all week.
Butterflies were doing cartwheels in my stomach.
The session actually started before we got to Mary as my mother and I chatted this morning.
My mother told me that she knew I had abused my meds this week and she knew how much I was binging and purging. It's so strange because I actually manage to convince myself that she knew nothing. That my web of lies was working. I guess that is the power denial, you believe your own lies.
She told me she knew how anxious I was about the wedding, I thought I had put up a good front pretending to be excited.
I explained to her the pressure I felt under to look well and be well. How I thought people judged how well I was by how much I weighed when the that couldn't be further from the truth
Then it was time to go.
I introduced my mother to Mary and then went in for a chat with her first.
I told her about the meds, I told her the binging and purging was out of control.
She listened and then spoke to my mother on her own, I sat in the waiting room trying to read their minds while reading about how to combat stress.
Then she called me in. First we talked about the meds and how to get on top of it.
My mother expressed great worry and her fear that I would burn the house down.
I suppose somewhere in the back of my head I knew this but actually hearing her say it out loud was different. I explained how I use the meds to get a break from the eating disorder.
We eventually came to an agreement that I would hand over my meds to my mother and she would dole them out to me. Yes this takes responsibility away from me but I can't trust myself to take them properly just now and eventually handing back responsibility to me.
I think this will work.
Mary then spoke about my mother as a carer. She showed us a document that the Maudsley hospital had drawn up comparing different types of carers to animals like the ostrich, the rhinoscerous etc
We identified that my mother is a mixture of the dolphin and the st Bernard. Calm, confident and supportive.
I guess I am lucky she is that way, I suppose she has learned the hard way how to help an addict.
The great thing about Mary is that she really focuses on the positive and I really need that.
She asked my mother about the dancing and what she thought about it.
She became very emotional and said some truly lovely things.
She said it was a joy to be around me during that time, that I was focused and motivated and it was clear I was really enjoying myself. She said the night of the show was amazing and it was so emotional to see me dancing as I hadn't done it in so long.
As I listened I couldn't hold back the tears. She also acknowledged that the fact I started something and saw it through to the end was the real achievement.
It was so nice to hear those things, that I had done something right.
She and Mary also emphasized how I had overcome drug addiction and if I could do that then I could do this. The meeting ended on a positive note and I was relieved it was over.
I am so glad I did this. I came away feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time thinking 'maybe I can do this.
My whole life people have told me I have great potential, my teachers, my doctors, my therapists.
But it meant nothing to me.
All it meant that I could do something, maybe, possibly.
It was no guarantee.
I thought they were just saying it to be nice and I 've never had that belief in myself.
I thought I had gotten away from drugs because I was just sick of the whole thing.
But I walked away from my entire life to start again in a new place where I know no one.
Maybe I do have strength I'm not even aware of.
I've never managed to overcome my eating disorder but have I really tried? Have I really wanted to?
I've been misreable for so long that I've forgotten how great it is to feel happiness.
I can remember the last time I really laughed and it was over a year ago.
I miss that.
I miss laughing so hard you think you'll burst.
I miss hanging out with friends.
I miss dancing.
I miss having a life.
I feel motivated to take my meds properly.
I'm going to the chemist now and I will hand them over to my mother.
If only for her peace of mind. She deserves that much.
I'm feeling hopeful,
Possibly maybe.............
The anxiety had been building inside me all week.
Butterflies were doing cartwheels in my stomach.
The session actually started before we got to Mary as my mother and I chatted this morning.
My mother told me that she knew I had abused my meds this week and she knew how much I was binging and purging. It's so strange because I actually manage to convince myself that she knew nothing. That my web of lies was working. I guess that is the power denial, you believe your own lies.
She told me she knew how anxious I was about the wedding, I thought I had put up a good front pretending to be excited.
I explained to her the pressure I felt under to look well and be well. How I thought people judged how well I was by how much I weighed when the that couldn't be further from the truth
Then it was time to go.
I introduced my mother to Mary and then went in for a chat with her first.
I told her about the meds, I told her the binging and purging was out of control.
She listened and then spoke to my mother on her own, I sat in the waiting room trying to read their minds while reading about how to combat stress.
Then she called me in. First we talked about the meds and how to get on top of it.
My mother expressed great worry and her fear that I would burn the house down.
I suppose somewhere in the back of my head I knew this but actually hearing her say it out loud was different. I explained how I use the meds to get a break from the eating disorder.
We eventually came to an agreement that I would hand over my meds to my mother and she would dole them out to me. Yes this takes responsibility away from me but I can't trust myself to take them properly just now and eventually handing back responsibility to me.
I think this will work.
Mary then spoke about my mother as a carer. She showed us a document that the Maudsley hospital had drawn up comparing different types of carers to animals like the ostrich, the rhinoscerous etc
We identified that my mother is a mixture of the dolphin and the st Bernard. Calm, confident and supportive.
I guess I am lucky she is that way, I suppose she has learned the hard way how to help an addict.
The great thing about Mary is that she really focuses on the positive and I really need that.
She asked my mother about the dancing and what she thought about it.
She became very emotional and said some truly lovely things.
She said it was a joy to be around me during that time, that I was focused and motivated and it was clear I was really enjoying myself. She said the night of the show was amazing and it was so emotional to see me dancing as I hadn't done it in so long.
As I listened I couldn't hold back the tears. She also acknowledged that the fact I started something and saw it through to the end was the real achievement.
It was so nice to hear those things, that I had done something right.
She and Mary also emphasized how I had overcome drug addiction and if I could do that then I could do this. The meeting ended on a positive note and I was relieved it was over.
I am so glad I did this. I came away feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time thinking 'maybe I can do this.
My whole life people have told me I have great potential, my teachers, my doctors, my therapists.
But it meant nothing to me.
All it meant that I could do something, maybe, possibly.
It was no guarantee.
I thought they were just saying it to be nice and I 've never had that belief in myself.
I thought I had gotten away from drugs because I was just sick of the whole thing.
But I walked away from my entire life to start again in a new place where I know no one.
Maybe I do have strength I'm not even aware of.
I've never managed to overcome my eating disorder but have I really tried? Have I really wanted to?
I've been misreable for so long that I've forgotten how great it is to feel happiness.
I can remember the last time I really laughed and it was over a year ago.
I miss that.
I miss laughing so hard you think you'll burst.
I miss hanging out with friends.
I miss dancing.
I miss having a life.
I feel motivated to take my meds properly.
I'm going to the chemist now and I will hand them over to my mother.
If only for her peace of mind. She deserves that much.
I'm feeling hopeful,
Possibly maybe.............
Thursday 14 June 2012
Lather, rinse, repeat........
Apart from anorexia the question I get asked the most is 'how did you end up a drug addict?' and I was asked this just recently. I suppose I was not a likely candidate, I was an 18 year old girl from a good (ish) family, I had just finished school and had the world at my feet.
Instead of going to college or going travelling I ended up on heroin.
I find this question difficult to answer as there is no one reason. I think sometimes people presume I had a traumatic event in my life and that's the reason. I think the answer is a combination of genetics, environment, circumstances and bad luck.
My father was a heavy drinker when I was growing up, this completely turned me off drink because I had seen the effects at home. There is a lot of addiction on my fathers side so I probably was predisposed to becoming addicted.
Another reason I think, happened when I was about 10.
We got word from England that my fathers brother had died. I'll call him T. We were all told that he had died from a brail haemorrhage but I soon started hearing rumours from my cousins that this was not true and he had in fact died from a drug overdose and was found on the street.
You would think this would have turned me off drugs but instead it created an air of mystery around them
Years later when I started going to pubs and clubs at age15/16 whenever anyone heard my surname they would ask me if I was related to T. When I said I was they would always say what a great guy T was and relay stories about him. They were always the same, T was a great guy but he was mad in the head.
I built up a picture of T in my head, he was this popular guy who everybody loved, unpredictable and troubled but everyone accepted him. At this age I was also desperate to belong and to be accepted
and I started to think maybe if I took drugs and was wild and crazy, maybe then I would be part of something. I found out from my mother years later that he was indeed very troubled and there was nothing glamorous about his life. He caused so much trouble at home and in the town that in the end my father gave him money and bus ticket and told him to leave town. Maybe if I had all this information at the time I might have looked at him him differently but at that time in my mind he was a rockstar.
For the next couple of years I dabbled with different drugs but it wasn't until I met my then boyfriend that I was introduced to heroin. I smoked it the first time and the second time I injected it, going on to inject in my neck because the veins in my arms had collapsed.
At first this new world was exciting and we only did the drug at weekends so I could hold down a job.
Then the weekends spilled into the week, I started stealing from my job and I soon found out that this was no glamorous world, it was a nightmare. But once you're in this world it's so hard to get out, like trying to find your way out of a maze. I know some of my family blamed my boyfriend but it was not his fault, he just happened to be the one that gave it to me first. I would have come across it eventually.
I am a person who has to find out the hard way, you can tell me until you're blue in the face not to do something but I have to go and find out for myself.
The next few years were a neverending merry-go-round of drugs, methadone, treatment, lather, rinse, repeat, doing unspeakable things for money. I firmly believe I would not have got through it alive had it not been for my mother. She never gave up trying to help me, for a petite lady she has endless strength and energy. I am eternally grateful to her for that.
I consider myself one of the lucky ones, I got out alive and relatively unscathed. I moved away from the drugs, the people and triggers. I got the chance to start my life over. Yes I've had an eating disorder to deal with and I can't deny that I abuse my meds but things are a lot better than they were.
I am no angel and never was, I make mistakes every single day but I do try and learn from them.
People also always say to me that if I can beat drugs I can beat the ed. I'm not so sure.
This ed is so sneaky and cunning that it makes me believe I don't have it at all. I haven't given up hope but it wears me down a little bit more every day. As I write this I am planning my next binge. I have a fridge full of food and an empty house. My ed's idea of heaven.
Writing this has kind of helped me understand my drug taking a little better,
Thanks for reading this and much love to you xxx
Instead of going to college or going travelling I ended up on heroin.
I find this question difficult to answer as there is no one reason. I think sometimes people presume I had a traumatic event in my life and that's the reason. I think the answer is a combination of genetics, environment, circumstances and bad luck.
My father was a heavy drinker when I was growing up, this completely turned me off drink because I had seen the effects at home. There is a lot of addiction on my fathers side so I probably was predisposed to becoming addicted.
Another reason I think, happened when I was about 10.
We got word from England that my fathers brother had died. I'll call him T. We were all told that he had died from a brail haemorrhage but I soon started hearing rumours from my cousins that this was not true and he had in fact died from a drug overdose and was found on the street.
You would think this would have turned me off drugs but instead it created an air of mystery around them
Years later when I started going to pubs and clubs at age15/16 whenever anyone heard my surname they would ask me if I was related to T. When I said I was they would always say what a great guy T was and relay stories about him. They were always the same, T was a great guy but he was mad in the head.
I built up a picture of T in my head, he was this popular guy who everybody loved, unpredictable and troubled but everyone accepted him. At this age I was also desperate to belong and to be accepted
and I started to think maybe if I took drugs and was wild and crazy, maybe then I would be part of something. I found out from my mother years later that he was indeed very troubled and there was nothing glamorous about his life. He caused so much trouble at home and in the town that in the end my father gave him money and bus ticket and told him to leave town. Maybe if I had all this information at the time I might have looked at him him differently but at that time in my mind he was a rockstar.
For the next couple of years I dabbled with different drugs but it wasn't until I met my then boyfriend that I was introduced to heroin. I smoked it the first time and the second time I injected it, going on to inject in my neck because the veins in my arms had collapsed.
At first this new world was exciting and we only did the drug at weekends so I could hold down a job.
Then the weekends spilled into the week, I started stealing from my job and I soon found out that this was no glamorous world, it was a nightmare. But once you're in this world it's so hard to get out, like trying to find your way out of a maze. I know some of my family blamed my boyfriend but it was not his fault, he just happened to be the one that gave it to me first. I would have come across it eventually.
I am a person who has to find out the hard way, you can tell me until you're blue in the face not to do something but I have to go and find out for myself.
The next few years were a neverending merry-go-round of drugs, methadone, treatment, lather, rinse, repeat, doing unspeakable things for money. I firmly believe I would not have got through it alive had it not been for my mother. She never gave up trying to help me, for a petite lady she has endless strength and energy. I am eternally grateful to her for that.
I consider myself one of the lucky ones, I got out alive and relatively unscathed. I moved away from the drugs, the people and triggers. I got the chance to start my life over. Yes I've had an eating disorder to deal with and I can't deny that I abuse my meds but things are a lot better than they were.
I am no angel and never was, I make mistakes every single day but I do try and learn from them.
People also always say to me that if I can beat drugs I can beat the ed. I'm not so sure.
This ed is so sneaky and cunning that it makes me believe I don't have it at all. I haven't given up hope but it wears me down a little bit more every day. As I write this I am planning my next binge. I have a fridge full of food and an empty house. My ed's idea of heaven.
Writing this has kind of helped me understand my drug taking a little better,
Thanks for reading this and much love to you xxx
Wednesday 13 June 2012
Honesty is the best policy?
I got up early to walk my dogs as I was seeing Mary at 10am
I was so tempted to cancel to avoid the dreaded weigh in but that would just be prolonging the inevitable
She hasn't weighed me in 2 weeks and what with all the binging and purging I've been doing I expected it to be up a couple of kilos
But I went anyway
The first question she always asks is 'how have you been?'
I tell her about my week and how I went to see my doctor and am now going into the chemist twice a week to pick up my meds. I lied and told her I had taken them properly this week.
I don't know why but I just couldn't face telling her I had fucked up again. I hate seeing the look on peoples face when they're disappointed. I wanted to tell her, I really did, I just couldn't find the words.
So I back to square 1 with the meds
Back keeping secrets again
At this point she suggests doing the weigh in. I tell her that I'm not going to look.
I'm dying to know but I know I'll be crushed when I see the number go up
Then I show her my food diary. I hate revealing what I eat and how many times I've purged, yet another thing I want to keep secret. She identifies that I'm leaving too long between eating and this may be why I binge and then purge. She points out that eating little and often would help this. I agree and say I will try but all the while she's speaking I am planning my next binge in my head.
She asks about the shoplifting. I am honest and tell I have a few times.
We come up with ways to stop this like bringing someone with me and not bringing a bag.
Then she asks me if I'd like to know my weight as it would give an indication to how the b/p is affecting my weight. When she says this I immediately think 'oh fuck, it must be up loads'
In the end it was up 0.3kg from 2 weeks ago
Relief floods through my body, that I can handle
It just goes to show that I can't trust how I feel or even the mirror. I was sure I had gained more.
To enforce her point Mary does a little experiment.
She gets 2 chairs and puts them back to back. She asks me to move them apart so I could walk through them easily. I move them to where I think I could fit through. She asks me to walk through and there is space either side of me. She tells me to move the chairs in to where I am. There is a significant difference.
I'd recommend this experiment if you are trying to get a real picture of your size.
It simple but effective
She then asks me about bringing my mother in to the next session. I'm nervous about this but I know it would help my mother so I agree, the appointment is on Friday and then Mary is on holidays for a week.
She finishes the session in the usual way by asking me to write down my next steps which are
- address purging
- address shoplifting
- sort out clothes for Italy
- make daily meal plans
I left the session and could feel a binge coming on.
I drove to the nearest supermarket and stocked up on binge food and shoplifted dog treats.
I know it makes no sense, you would think I would be all motivated after my session,
Apparently not
So here I am with the day stretching out in front of me with a press full of binge food
I feel guilty for not being honest about my meds and my eating disorder will get great mileage out of that
I was wondering about you, how do you handle binging and purging?
How do you manage to break the neverending cycle?
I guess Mary answered that question for me today, eating regularly. I suppose I'm looking for a quick fix and there probably isn't one
Anyway we''ll see how today goes,
Thanks for reading this and as always much love to you xxx
I was so tempted to cancel to avoid the dreaded weigh in but that would just be prolonging the inevitable
She hasn't weighed me in 2 weeks and what with all the binging and purging I've been doing I expected it to be up a couple of kilos
But I went anyway
The first question she always asks is 'how have you been?'
I tell her about my week and how I went to see my doctor and am now going into the chemist twice a week to pick up my meds. I lied and told her I had taken them properly this week.
I don't know why but I just couldn't face telling her I had fucked up again. I hate seeing the look on peoples face when they're disappointed. I wanted to tell her, I really did, I just couldn't find the words.
So I back to square 1 with the meds
Back keeping secrets again
At this point she suggests doing the weigh in. I tell her that I'm not going to look.
I'm dying to know but I know I'll be crushed when I see the number go up
Then I show her my food diary. I hate revealing what I eat and how many times I've purged, yet another thing I want to keep secret. She identifies that I'm leaving too long between eating and this may be why I binge and then purge. She points out that eating little and often would help this. I agree and say I will try but all the while she's speaking I am planning my next binge in my head.
She asks about the shoplifting. I am honest and tell I have a few times.
We come up with ways to stop this like bringing someone with me and not bringing a bag.
Then she asks me if I'd like to know my weight as it would give an indication to how the b/p is affecting my weight. When she says this I immediately think 'oh fuck, it must be up loads'
In the end it was up 0.3kg from 2 weeks ago
Relief floods through my body, that I can handle
It just goes to show that I can't trust how I feel or even the mirror. I was sure I had gained more.
To enforce her point Mary does a little experiment.
She gets 2 chairs and puts them back to back. She asks me to move them apart so I could walk through them easily. I move them to where I think I could fit through. She asks me to walk through and there is space either side of me. She tells me to move the chairs in to where I am. There is a significant difference.
I'd recommend this experiment if you are trying to get a real picture of your size.
It simple but effective
She then asks me about bringing my mother in to the next session. I'm nervous about this but I know it would help my mother so I agree, the appointment is on Friday and then Mary is on holidays for a week.
She finishes the session in the usual way by asking me to write down my next steps which are
- address purging
- address shoplifting
- sort out clothes for Italy
- make daily meal plans
I left the session and could feel a binge coming on.
I drove to the nearest supermarket and stocked up on binge food and shoplifted dog treats.
I know it makes no sense, you would think I would be all motivated after my session,
Apparently not
So here I am with the day stretching out in front of me with a press full of binge food
I feel guilty for not being honest about my meds and my eating disorder will get great mileage out of that
I was wondering about you, how do you handle binging and purging?
How do you manage to break the neverending cycle?
I guess Mary answered that question for me today, eating regularly. I suppose I'm looking for a quick fix and there probably isn't one
Anyway we''ll see how today goes,
Thanks for reading this and as always much love to you xxx
Tuesday 12 June 2012
The joys of inpatient
The new system for taking my meds correctly isn't working.
I took double methadone and double zyprexa yesterday and have just popped 2 zyprexa today
I spent a lot of yesterday sleeping and therefore not eating and also wasn't up in the night binging and purging
Now do you see why I take them?
I'm seeing Mary tomorrow, will I tell her?
Probably not
These pills are the only escape I get from my eating disorder, the only thing that calms my racing mind
I know, maybe if I took them properly that would help
I know I should, I'm only hurting myself
Like a true addict, I look forward to taking them, I'm in great form the day I collect them
I remember in treatment someone called me 'a dustbin junkie' because I would take anything
Sadly they were right
This behaviour is keeping me stuck
Everyday is the same, lather rinse, repeat.......
Anyway I'm not in as bad form as you would think. Having spoken to old treatment friends at the weekend I've been thinking a lot about treatment. Would I be willing to go back? There are only 3 inpatient facilities in this country and I've been to 2 of them. The first time was a disaster, when it came out that I was a drug addict they refused to treat me and I left after only 3 days. The next place was much better, I've been there 3 times but never finished the programme successfully because they discharge you if you don't continue to gain weight.
There is one thing stopping me from going back to treatment and I touched on it in a couple of other posts.
It was my second time in this programme and I was on bedrest. We were weighed 3 times a week and if you fail to gain weight twice in a row you are put on bedrest. This is as it sounds, in your pyjamas, in your bed all day. You are only allowed to leave for groups. So I was on bedrest but I was not very good at staying in bed and would be up every hour for a smoke. This particular day my mother had been to visit and the nurses had not come near me all day, not to check on me or say hello to my mother. She thought this was a bit strange but thought nothing more of it. My mother then left and I was getting cabin feverish because it was a Saturday and we had no groups and I had been in bed all day.
I went out to the little kitchen to make myself a cup of tea when I was cornered by one of the nurses.
She gave out to me and told me in no uncertain terms that I was breaking rules. Her tone was very unkind and I could feel tears stinging my eyes. I walked away without saying a word and went for a smoke.
On my way back to my room I stopped at the nurses station, 2 nurses had their backs to me and hadn't seen me. I heard one say to the other 'I think I'm after upsetting Ruby, she's crying'. The other nurse turned to her and said in a very sarcastic voice 'Oh my God, you are such a bitch' as if to say big fucking deal.
At this point they turned around and saw me. Her face said it all, she knew she'd messed up.
I ran to my room and started to cry. The nurse followed me and said 'Ruby I wasn't calling you a bitch'
I said 'I know what I heard, you were taking the piss' She asked me if she could speak to me in the office so I followed her in. In fairness to her she could see how upset I was and was apologetic.
I was still upset and crying and I rang my mother who was on a train home. She immediately rang the nurse manager who said the nurse had done nothing wrong. The whole thing just escalated and I was so upset and ended up self harming that night. I still don't know if I over reacted or not but I couldn't help the way I reacted. What do you think, was she in the wrong?
In the days after things were tense. The nurse that ran our programme backed me and said the nurse was definitely in the wrong but other nurses were on her side and I don't know if I was imagining it but they seemed to treat me differently after that. In the end I wanted to get out of there and orchestrated my discharge. I must stress that this incident was a one off and only involved a couple of nurses, most of the others were very kind. I've always played down how much this affected me but the truth is I was so hurt.
They were supposed to be helping me get well and instead they were taking the piss put of me.
I'd love to know what you think, were they in the wrong? Did I over react? Tell me honestly.
So this is one of the reasons stopping me going back to treatment, it's not the only one mind
I'd love to know what you think.
Thanks for reading this and as always much love to you xxx
I took double methadone and double zyprexa yesterday and have just popped 2 zyprexa today
I spent a lot of yesterday sleeping and therefore not eating and also wasn't up in the night binging and purging
Now do you see why I take them?
I'm seeing Mary tomorrow, will I tell her?
Probably not
These pills are the only escape I get from my eating disorder, the only thing that calms my racing mind
I know, maybe if I took them properly that would help
I know I should, I'm only hurting myself
Like a true addict, I look forward to taking them, I'm in great form the day I collect them
I remember in treatment someone called me 'a dustbin junkie' because I would take anything
Sadly they were right
This behaviour is keeping me stuck
Everyday is the same, lather rinse, repeat.......
Anyway I'm not in as bad form as you would think. Having spoken to old treatment friends at the weekend I've been thinking a lot about treatment. Would I be willing to go back? There are only 3 inpatient facilities in this country and I've been to 2 of them. The first time was a disaster, when it came out that I was a drug addict they refused to treat me and I left after only 3 days. The next place was much better, I've been there 3 times but never finished the programme successfully because they discharge you if you don't continue to gain weight.
There is one thing stopping me from going back to treatment and I touched on it in a couple of other posts.
It was my second time in this programme and I was on bedrest. We were weighed 3 times a week and if you fail to gain weight twice in a row you are put on bedrest. This is as it sounds, in your pyjamas, in your bed all day. You are only allowed to leave for groups. So I was on bedrest but I was not very good at staying in bed and would be up every hour for a smoke. This particular day my mother had been to visit and the nurses had not come near me all day, not to check on me or say hello to my mother. She thought this was a bit strange but thought nothing more of it. My mother then left and I was getting cabin feverish because it was a Saturday and we had no groups and I had been in bed all day.
I went out to the little kitchen to make myself a cup of tea when I was cornered by one of the nurses.
She gave out to me and told me in no uncertain terms that I was breaking rules. Her tone was very unkind and I could feel tears stinging my eyes. I walked away without saying a word and went for a smoke.
On my way back to my room I stopped at the nurses station, 2 nurses had their backs to me and hadn't seen me. I heard one say to the other 'I think I'm after upsetting Ruby, she's crying'. The other nurse turned to her and said in a very sarcastic voice 'Oh my God, you are such a bitch' as if to say big fucking deal.
At this point they turned around and saw me. Her face said it all, she knew she'd messed up.
I ran to my room and started to cry. The nurse followed me and said 'Ruby I wasn't calling you a bitch'
I said 'I know what I heard, you were taking the piss' She asked me if she could speak to me in the office so I followed her in. In fairness to her she could see how upset I was and was apologetic.
I was still upset and crying and I rang my mother who was on a train home. She immediately rang the nurse manager who said the nurse had done nothing wrong. The whole thing just escalated and I was so upset and ended up self harming that night. I still don't know if I over reacted or not but I couldn't help the way I reacted. What do you think, was she in the wrong?
In the days after things were tense. The nurse that ran our programme backed me and said the nurse was definitely in the wrong but other nurses were on her side and I don't know if I was imagining it but they seemed to treat me differently after that. In the end I wanted to get out of there and orchestrated my discharge. I must stress that this incident was a one off and only involved a couple of nurses, most of the others were very kind. I've always played down how much this affected me but the truth is I was so hurt.
They were supposed to be helping me get well and instead they were taking the piss put of me.
I'd love to know what you think, were they in the wrong? Did I over react? Tell me honestly.
So this is one of the reasons stopping me going back to treatment, it's not the only one mind
I'd love to know what you think.
Thanks for reading this and as always much love to you xxx
Monday 11 June 2012
Reality bites
Bulimia didn't listen to me yesterday but then she never listens.
She appeared at regular intervals through out the day and night.
It stops today.
I have no binge food in the house so hopefully bulimia will give up and take the day off.
I have strong urges to restrict. This wedding looms heavily over me and the pressure to look good consumes me. The pressure comes from me, nobody else. People just want me to be healthy.
I wish I wanted me to be healthy.
Also meeting my treatment friends in weeks is on my mind.
I've been given the label of anorexic and I feel pressure to live up to that label if that makes sense.
I just don't know who I am without anorexia. I don't know what would be left if it was taken away.
Me I guess.
Or a big eating disordered shaped hole.
I'm afraid to find out.
I saw my doctor first thing this morning. I was dreading this appointment as Mary had told him about my abusing my meds. I sat nervously in the waiting room waiting for my name to be called anticipating the lecture that would follow. Eventually my name was called and I reluctantly followed him into the treatment room.
He said nothing and just gave me look as if to say 'Ruby, Ruby, Ruby'.
He then pulled out a drug test and sent me to the bathroom. He hasn't tested me in the longest time but I understood why he did today. I returned to the room and even though I knew the test would be clean I still get anxious waiting for the result. I have to be honest here and say that I only admitted to abusing my anxiety meds and not the methadone even though I was. He was actually nice and gentle with me and asked me why I was doing this. I explained that the eating disorder was really getting me down and I was using it as an escape and to get a break from all the food related shit. He was understanding and said that because I was engaging in therapy, it was bringing a lot of issues to the surface so it made sense I wanted to escape. I hadn't thought of it like this and appreciated his insight. He is a big softie really.
I had been getting one weeks supply of meds at a time and he changed this to getting 3 days at a time.
This does and doesn't help. It will help me to spread out my meds but I still have 3 days supply and that is tempting to take them all at once. But where will that get me. It's so easy to slip into denial.
I can trick myself into thinking that because they're prescribed it's ok and I'm not using but that's denial talking. It is using. If I'm abusing them and using them to escape and it's affecting my life in a negative way, then it's definitely using. They are still drugs, prescribed or not.
I took them properly today and am determined to get this under control. I know it will lead me back to illegal drugs and that's the last thing I want. I never want to go back to that hell.
So I guess this a positive result even though it doesn't feel that way just yet. I am trying to build up the courage to go back to my support group. I just know it will help me so much but I keep putting it off.
It's hard to walk in there and admit that I fucked up. I suppose it's a pride thing.
People often ask me which is harder, dealing with a drug addiction or an eating disorder.
I think they are both equally hard but different. I was able to completely walk away from my drug life.
Away from the town, the drugs, the people and the lifestyle. I started fresh in a new town where nobody knew me. With food it's different. I can't cut food out of my life, I have to learn to deal with it in a healthy way. I find though that the behaviours are quite similar, the addiction, the denial and the lying.
Same shit different substance.
So I start this week afresh, attempting to get my addictions under control.
I'm blessed to have a supportive family, an understanding doctor and a great therapist.
Maybe with their help I can do this.
There is talk of spending christmas with my sister in Australia this year. I could spend 3 months there.
That is a huge motivation and gives me something to look forward to. It's such a great opportunity.
Here's hoping.
I'm also blessed to have met some amazing people through this blog and I appreciate every reader and comment. Thank you to you for being there and listening to my daily rants.
Gosh this post is getting very emotional so I'm going to go before we all start crying.
Much love xxx
She appeared at regular intervals through out the day and night.
It stops today.
I have no binge food in the house so hopefully bulimia will give up and take the day off.
I have strong urges to restrict. This wedding looms heavily over me and the pressure to look good consumes me. The pressure comes from me, nobody else. People just want me to be healthy.
I wish I wanted me to be healthy.
Also meeting my treatment friends in weeks is on my mind.
I've been given the label of anorexic and I feel pressure to live up to that label if that makes sense.
I just don't know who I am without anorexia. I don't know what would be left if it was taken away.
Me I guess.
Or a big eating disordered shaped hole.
I'm afraid to find out.
I saw my doctor first thing this morning. I was dreading this appointment as Mary had told him about my abusing my meds. I sat nervously in the waiting room waiting for my name to be called anticipating the lecture that would follow. Eventually my name was called and I reluctantly followed him into the treatment room.
He said nothing and just gave me look as if to say 'Ruby, Ruby, Ruby'.
He then pulled out a drug test and sent me to the bathroom. He hasn't tested me in the longest time but I understood why he did today. I returned to the room and even though I knew the test would be clean I still get anxious waiting for the result. I have to be honest here and say that I only admitted to abusing my anxiety meds and not the methadone even though I was. He was actually nice and gentle with me and asked me why I was doing this. I explained that the eating disorder was really getting me down and I was using it as an escape and to get a break from all the food related shit. He was understanding and said that because I was engaging in therapy, it was bringing a lot of issues to the surface so it made sense I wanted to escape. I hadn't thought of it like this and appreciated his insight. He is a big softie really.
I had been getting one weeks supply of meds at a time and he changed this to getting 3 days at a time.
This does and doesn't help. It will help me to spread out my meds but I still have 3 days supply and that is tempting to take them all at once. But where will that get me. It's so easy to slip into denial.
I can trick myself into thinking that because they're prescribed it's ok and I'm not using but that's denial talking. It is using. If I'm abusing them and using them to escape and it's affecting my life in a negative way, then it's definitely using. They are still drugs, prescribed or not.
I took them properly today and am determined to get this under control. I know it will lead me back to illegal drugs and that's the last thing I want. I never want to go back to that hell.
So I guess this a positive result even though it doesn't feel that way just yet. I am trying to build up the courage to go back to my support group. I just know it will help me so much but I keep putting it off.
It's hard to walk in there and admit that I fucked up. I suppose it's a pride thing.
People often ask me which is harder, dealing with a drug addiction or an eating disorder.
I think they are both equally hard but different. I was able to completely walk away from my drug life.
Away from the town, the drugs, the people and the lifestyle. I started fresh in a new town where nobody knew me. With food it's different. I can't cut food out of my life, I have to learn to deal with it in a healthy way. I find though that the behaviours are quite similar, the addiction, the denial and the lying.
Same shit different substance.
So I start this week afresh, attempting to get my addictions under control.
I'm blessed to have a supportive family, an understanding doctor and a great therapist.
Maybe with their help I can do this.
There is talk of spending christmas with my sister in Australia this year. I could spend 3 months there.
That is a huge motivation and gives me something to look forward to. It's such a great opportunity.
Here's hoping.
I'm also blessed to have met some amazing people through this blog and I appreciate every reader and comment. Thank you to you for being there and listening to my daily rants.
Gosh this post is getting very emotional so I'm going to go before we all start crying.
Much love xxx
Sunday 10 June 2012
Bulimia, are you listening?
I am so very tired this morning.
I didn't sleep last night due to being up in the night multiple times binging and purging.
It's getting worse and it's getting me down.
I don't know how to stop.
Bulimia, are you listening?
Fuck. Off. Away. From. Me
I can't take it today, take the day off, I'm giving you the day off and take ana with you..
I just want one day eating disorder free.
One day not obsessing over food and weight and numbers
You can come back tomorrow, just leave me alone today
Did you hear that?
Good
So anyway, I went in to town yesterday. On the way in we stopped at a cute little craft shop to buy my sister a birthday gift. My mother bought her a beautiful bag and matching scarf.
I'm ashamed to admit I stole a bottle of bubble bath.
I stole her birthday gift. Very classy Ruby.
I thought I had stopped this shit. Apparently not.
I can't think about it now though, it will drive me crazy.
We then went to Monsoon where I found the yellow dress I had tried on before.
I tried on the smallest size, a size 8 but it was too big and just didn't look right.
I was disappointed but the sales girl suggested another dress in the same colour. It was still a bit big but the style suited me a lot better and she pinned it for me so I can get it altered.
So yay, I got a dress and am delighted with it. I'll post pics soon.
And in case anyone is wondering, yes I paid for the dress, I'm not that bad!
When I got home I got a phone call from a lad I was in hospital with. I hadn't heard from him in ages, he was my gay bestfriend in hospital. He informed me that a few of them are getting together on the 23rd at his apartment in Dublin. They meet up about once a month to see how everyone's doing.
It's not just people with eating disorders, it's also people with anxiety, depression, bipolar.
So I think I'm gonna go. It would be good for me I think.
I'm a little nervous to go to Dublin as that's where I used to use but he said he would meet me at the train station and I'd be with someone all the time.
He also told me that another lad who had been in with us had killed himself.
I was crushed to hear this. This lad was so sweet and he was one of the smartest people I have ever met.
I know he was in a lot of pain and I guess it just got too much for him.
I hope he is at peace now.
So yea, I think I'll go and meet them.
As I said before I have a bond with these people that will never be broken. They saw me at my very worst and helped me to recover. I have so much love and time for these people
I remember one time in particular, I overheard 2 nurses taking the piss out of me (I'll write about that some other time) I was so hurt and these people rallied around me and really got me through. We helped each other through all kinds of situations and still managed to have a laugh along the way
So that's decided then. I'm going.
I hadn't eaten anything all day by this stage but evenings are my worst binge/purge time.
I broke at about 7pm and drove to the shop to buy/steal binge food
You can guess how the rest of the evening panned out.
It's a beautiful day here today so even though I'm hungover from binging and purging I'm gonna go do the cat cliff walk at the beach nearby. My 2 dogs don't care that I'm hungover, they want to go walkies.
So I hope everyone's doing ok,
Thanks for reading this and much love to you xxx
I didn't sleep last night due to being up in the night multiple times binging and purging.
It's getting worse and it's getting me down.
I don't know how to stop.
Bulimia, are you listening?
Fuck. Off. Away. From. Me
I can't take it today, take the day off, I'm giving you the day off and take ana with you..
I just want one day eating disorder free.
One day not obsessing over food and weight and numbers
You can come back tomorrow, just leave me alone today
Did you hear that?
Good
So anyway, I went in to town yesterday. On the way in we stopped at a cute little craft shop to buy my sister a birthday gift. My mother bought her a beautiful bag and matching scarf.
I'm ashamed to admit I stole a bottle of bubble bath.
I stole her birthday gift. Very classy Ruby.
I thought I had stopped this shit. Apparently not.
I can't think about it now though, it will drive me crazy.
We then went to Monsoon where I found the yellow dress I had tried on before.
I tried on the smallest size, a size 8 but it was too big and just didn't look right.
I was disappointed but the sales girl suggested another dress in the same colour. It was still a bit big but the style suited me a lot better and she pinned it for me so I can get it altered.
So yay, I got a dress and am delighted with it. I'll post pics soon.
And in case anyone is wondering, yes I paid for the dress, I'm not that bad!
When I got home I got a phone call from a lad I was in hospital with. I hadn't heard from him in ages, he was my gay bestfriend in hospital. He informed me that a few of them are getting together on the 23rd at his apartment in Dublin. They meet up about once a month to see how everyone's doing.
It's not just people with eating disorders, it's also people with anxiety, depression, bipolar.
So I think I'm gonna go. It would be good for me I think.
I'm a little nervous to go to Dublin as that's where I used to use but he said he would meet me at the train station and I'd be with someone all the time.
He also told me that another lad who had been in with us had killed himself.
I was crushed to hear this. This lad was so sweet and he was one of the smartest people I have ever met.
I know he was in a lot of pain and I guess it just got too much for him.
I hope he is at peace now.
So yea, I think I'll go and meet them.
As I said before I have a bond with these people that will never be broken. They saw me at my very worst and helped me to recover. I have so much love and time for these people
I remember one time in particular, I overheard 2 nurses taking the piss out of me (I'll write about that some other time) I was so hurt and these people rallied around me and really got me through. We helped each other through all kinds of situations and still managed to have a laugh along the way
So that's decided then. I'm going.
I hadn't eaten anything all day by this stage but evenings are my worst binge/purge time.
I broke at about 7pm and drove to the shop to buy/steal binge food
You can guess how the rest of the evening panned out.
It's a beautiful day here today so even though I'm hungover from binging and purging I'm gonna go do the cat cliff walk at the beach nearby. My 2 dogs don't care that I'm hungover, they want to go walkies.
So I hope everyone's doing ok,
Thanks for reading this and much love to you xxx
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