lost
I'm lost. I don't know what it's like to laugh and play, to be spontaneous, creative and carefree. I don't know what it means to goof off and to be free from worries, to take a wait and see attitude toward life. Going with the flow is an alien concept to me. I've made a habit of being serious, controlled and driven. I don't know what it's like to be myself because I can't let go. What could my life be like without constantly obsessing about thinness, weight and calories? How can I ever leave these obsessive thoughts behind? I am trapped in a living hell. The funny thing is- is that part of me wants out yet the bigger part of me won't, can't let go.
I want out- I think?. I want to be normal again (was I ever?)I’m tired of my hair falling out, of my stomach aching and of living with my head stuck in a toilet- How disgusting! How abnormal! I rarely am able to eat anymore, unless I am just doing it to make other people think I'm ok, then take care of it later. Sometimes I can eat, but just enough to allow my body to keep breathing, to keep thinking of food and to keep obsessing about everything. I can’t sleep through the night anymore. At first, I was so tired from not eating that I slept all the time. But now it’s different. I lay in bed and cry that I can’t live like this anymore and sometimes even pray for it all to end. I ask God to forgive me for what I’m doing to my body and promise to be better tomorrow-but somehow it never is. In my heart I know I can’t do this alone, but I don’t know how to let anyone help me. I just keep telling them all to back off- I’ve got it under control. Somehow though, the disease that I started out being totally in control over now has total control over me. My mind then begins to wander off, thinking about all kinds of things. I wonder if I lost any weight in the last two hours. I get up and weigh myself. A half pound (something must be wrong with the scale). But, it says I lost weight. I’m so happy. I climb back in bed smiling. Thirty minutes later, I’m up, measuring my thighs, waist and arms and compare them to this mornings measurements. Back to bed. I pray some more. I turn on the light and look at the calendar. I determine (for the fifth time today) what I should weigh in a week and in a month. Back to bed, again my mind wanders, more praying. 7 AM arrives. My day starts, more of the same stuff as all the other days, usually starting with whether I can handle going to work that day or not. More of the same: more obsessing, more hunger pangs, more fear of food, more purging, more staring at myself in the mirror-criticizing my body, more self hatred. Joy comes only for a short while when the scale says I’m smaller, lighter and I think, well, if it says I weigh this today, tomorrow I can be half or even a pound lighter if I don’t eat today. More sadness and anger when two hours later it says I’m worthless because the glass of water and crackers I rewarded myself with for the earlier weight loss made me gain a pound. More laxatives, diuretics, diet pills. More ridding myself of the food….This is my day! IT IS HELL!
My body can’t and won’t spare blood for my periods, how can it spare the tears I cry? I hope this makes sense. My memory is shot. I can’t think straight anymore. I shake a lot, from cold intolerance or low blood sugar, I don’t know which. Maybe from both. I’m often dizzy. I fall into walls and pass out if I get up too quickly. My hair is falling out and what’s left is limp, dry and brittle. My hips and back hurt, the bones stick out- so now I have to change how I dress to make it look like I've actually improved to others (they don't realize it's as bad as ever)It hurts to lay or sit too long. There’s a lot more, but you get the picture. This disease is slowly killing me and ruining my life and takes my family and friends along with it. I can’t let my kids grow up without a mom, and my husband without a wife, but what kind of mom and wife can I be like this? Although, honestly, it terrifies me to consider giving up my control and admit that I am powerless over this disease and that it has gone way beyond what my family and weekly therapy can help. Will I ever be able to actually trust someone enough to stop pushing them away and allow myself to be vulnerable to their help? It scares me to think-What if I don’t? When I push people away, I have the space to continue to obsess about fat, analyze yesterdays eating, todays eating and whether or not I have to starve all day so that I can eat normally at the party tonight so that no one will say something to me about my eating and weight loss. Then I can go on and see if I’ve excercised enough or not-check the firmness of my limbs and reflect on whether I could have pushed myself harder that day. It would be so nice to be able to turn that over to someone who understands that on a professional level and can help me work through all of those issues without refusing to talk to me, let me take a shower or talk to my family if I don’t gain enough weight that day. I really do want to understand how one day I woke up and made the decision that its not ok to eat anymore and that being healthy, well nourished and hydrated is something to be scared of. I want (but am terrified) to look forward to the day, if it is possible, when obsessions about weight and body image are no longer what makes the world go round for me and what the scale says is not what dictates my mood for the day. I want to stand in front of the mirror and see beauty-stretch marks and all. I don’t want my power to come from starvation, skinniness or exercising another hour. I want to embrace life unrestrained and unashamed of who I really am. Most of all, I want to know what it’s like to smile, laugh and play again. I think my family and friends want to see that too.
I have a strong support system of family and friends at home. I want to hold out the hope that with their help that someday soon this powerful disease will loosen its grip on me. Someday, I will finally accept myself and might even believe that “just another few pounds” is not what it will take to find happiness.
GOD-IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?????????????????????
I want out- I think?. I want to be normal again (was I ever?)I’m tired of my hair falling out, of my stomach aching and of living with my head stuck in a toilet- How disgusting! How abnormal! I rarely am able to eat anymore, unless I am just doing it to make other people think I'm ok, then take care of it later. Sometimes I can eat, but just enough to allow my body to keep breathing, to keep thinking of food and to keep obsessing about everything. I can’t sleep through the night anymore. At first, I was so tired from not eating that I slept all the time. But now it’s different. I lay in bed and cry that I can’t live like this anymore and sometimes even pray for it all to end. I ask God to forgive me for what I’m doing to my body and promise to be better tomorrow-but somehow it never is. In my heart I know I can’t do this alone, but I don’t know how to let anyone help me. I just keep telling them all to back off- I’ve got it under control. Somehow though, the disease that I started out being totally in control over now has total control over me. My mind then begins to wander off, thinking about all kinds of things. I wonder if I lost any weight in the last two hours. I get up and weigh myself. A half pound (something must be wrong with the scale). But, it says I lost weight. I’m so happy. I climb back in bed smiling. Thirty minutes later, I’m up, measuring my thighs, waist and arms and compare them to this mornings measurements. Back to bed. I pray some more. I turn on the light and look at the calendar. I determine (for the fifth time today) what I should weigh in a week and in a month. Back to bed, again my mind wanders, more praying. 7 AM arrives. My day starts, more of the same stuff as all the other days, usually starting with whether I can handle going to work that day or not. More of the same: more obsessing, more hunger pangs, more fear of food, more purging, more staring at myself in the mirror-criticizing my body, more self hatred. Joy comes only for a short while when the scale says I’m smaller, lighter and I think, well, if it says I weigh this today, tomorrow I can be half or even a pound lighter if I don’t eat today. More sadness and anger when two hours later it says I’m worthless because the glass of water and crackers I rewarded myself with for the earlier weight loss made me gain a pound. More laxatives, diuretics, diet pills. More ridding myself of the food….This is my day! IT IS HELL!
My body can’t and won’t spare blood for my periods, how can it spare the tears I cry? I hope this makes sense. My memory is shot. I can’t think straight anymore. I shake a lot, from cold intolerance or low blood sugar, I don’t know which. Maybe from both. I’m often dizzy. I fall into walls and pass out if I get up too quickly. My hair is falling out and what’s left is limp, dry and brittle. My hips and back hurt, the bones stick out- so now I have to change how I dress to make it look like I've actually improved to others (they don't realize it's as bad as ever)It hurts to lay or sit too long. There’s a lot more, but you get the picture. This disease is slowly killing me and ruining my life and takes my family and friends along with it. I can’t let my kids grow up without a mom, and my husband without a wife, but what kind of mom and wife can I be like this? Although, honestly, it terrifies me to consider giving up my control and admit that I am powerless over this disease and that it has gone way beyond what my family and weekly therapy can help. Will I ever be able to actually trust someone enough to stop pushing them away and allow myself to be vulnerable to their help? It scares me to think-What if I don’t? When I push people away, I have the space to continue to obsess about fat, analyze yesterdays eating, todays eating and whether or not I have to starve all day so that I can eat normally at the party tonight so that no one will say something to me about my eating and weight loss. Then I can go on and see if I’ve excercised enough or not-check the firmness of my limbs and reflect on whether I could have pushed myself harder that day. It would be so nice to be able to turn that over to someone who understands that on a professional level and can help me work through all of those issues without refusing to talk to me, let me take a shower or talk to my family if I don’t gain enough weight that day. I really do want to understand how one day I woke up and made the decision that its not ok to eat anymore and that being healthy, well nourished and hydrated is something to be scared of. I want (but am terrified) to look forward to the day, if it is possible, when obsessions about weight and body image are no longer what makes the world go round for me and what the scale says is not what dictates my mood for the day. I want to stand in front of the mirror and see beauty-stretch marks and all. I don’t want my power to come from starvation, skinniness or exercising another hour. I want to embrace life unrestrained and unashamed of who I really am. Most of all, I want to know what it’s like to smile, laugh and play again. I think my family and friends want to see that too.
I have a strong support system of family and friends at home. I want to hold out the hope that with their help that someday soon this powerful disease will loosen its grip on me. Someday, I will finally accept myself and might even believe that “just another few pounds” is not what it will take to find happiness.
GOD-IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?????????????????????