A Cautionary Word

Greetings,

I wanted to briefly state my purpose in creating this blog before you commence reading. I did not design this page nor do I post these trite and nonsensical ramblings of a girl who's losing her mind, surpringly quickly I may add, in order to advocate eating disorders of any variety. I make no apologies for my candid yet humble outpourings of a troubled soul; I attempt to make enough amends with myself and loved ones daily. Rather, the confines of my brain are simply becoming too small to contain the vast amounts of thoughts that crop up daily. Thus, I write in an attempt to save whatever remnant of sanity remains within me. I write to alleviate the pressure that has become unbearable to keep encapsulated. And I write for those of you who understand the struggle and interpret my words as your own.

Best,
xHungerFeedsx

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Homeward Bound

I can’t quite remember the last time I wrote.  I haven’t had Internet access in quite some time and have been so busy with work that I haven’t had an opportunity to write nor to check my last posting.  So I’ll start with what I can remember….
I am officially back to work and one of my worst fears has come true.  I was so nervous to return to work coming off of summer vacation because I feared that I would begin eating again.  My job takes an incredible amount of physical, mental, and emotional exertion.  It requires me to constantly move around, appear enthusiastic, remain focused, and expend an exorbitant amount of energy on processing and synthesizing information.  Now, this could work to my advantage considering the number of hours I spend awake burning a shit ton of calories.  However, when you lack self-control and start eating a shit ton of calories, the two sort of cancel each other out. 
Now, the week I returned for professional development, I was still managing to do pretty well.  I didn’t eat at all during the mornings, only ate a few bites of measly salad in the afternoons, and was sticking to my fat free cottage cheese and cucumber sandwiches on lavash bread.  I had a couple of slips during the hurricane when I was still dating my boyfriend where I binged on a box of Milano cookies and cheese and crackers (purged), ate a sushi dinner, and consumed that bowl of Ramen noodle soup.  I believe I was weighing in around that time at about 99-101 pounds.  I also remember managing to get down to about 97.4 the day before my other binge of donuts, Bertucci’s, and Friendly’s before my visit to the eating disorders hospital at which point I was weighing in at around 98.6 after my laxative spurt.  Slowly but surely I creeped back up to 99.5 where I have remained for at least the past two weeks.  (I managed to weigh in at 99.0 pounds one day, but that didn’t last very long.)  So, as you can see, I have been doing pitiful.  I have been yo-yoing and my body has finally settled on gaining weight and hasn’t budged an inch backward. 
I did have quite the interesting experience last weekend, however, when I returned home to visit my family which made me feel proud in a sick way that I must have done something right at some point in this twisted mess of a situation to warrant what happened next.  I didn’t eat anything the entire day (minus a coffee and a handful of nuts and a bite of my sister’s bagel) as my mother was preparing an “end of summer” barbeque for us later.  I was incredibly tired (due to waking up at 4am every day that week for work), bloated from my period (which only lasted two days), was constipated (I can’t dump anymore without the aid of laxatives), and felt like a fat cow.  I spent the day walking around, touring Newport with my sister in the heat on no food which made me even more lethargic and the bones in my lower back were beginning to ache in excruciating pain.  I don’t know why that happens, but anytime I fail to ingest a substantial number of calories for some time, the bones in my lower back/hip region and my knee joints begin to ache.  When we made it back to my parents’ place for dinner, I allowed myself to eat…and eat…and eat.  I started cramming trail mix, party mix, oatmeal raisin cookies with icing from the bakery, oreo cookies, ice cream, goldfish, and crackers into my mouth whilst waiting for the mouth-watering ribs, potato salad, corn on the cob, and focaccia bread to finish cooking.  By the time I had finished dinner, I was so full that my stomach was disgustingly distended and I felt like I was going to be sick.  I also became ridiculously tired.  I notice that after I binge, my blood sugar levels (normally low) skyrocket through the roof and I crash and burn.  Rather than giving me a boost of energy, my body spends whatever little stored energy it has on raising my glucose levels and processing what has become a foreign entity to my blood stream that after this is all over, I pass out.  I dragged myself up to my childhood bedroom, lied down, and thought I was going to die.  My heart was racing, I started to feel nauseous, and my stomach felt like it was literally about to burst open.  It was the worst feeling.  My entire body was squirming from the inside out and all I wanted to do was either die and get it the hell over with or throw-up.  I heard one of my parents walk to the bottom of the stairs, listen.  I know they were determining whether I had snuck away to the bathroom and whether I was throwing up.  I think they suspect I might, but as I was not in the bathroom and no retching sounds were issuing from my bedroom, they walked away content that I was simply resting.  I ended up passing out until I was woken up by my sister…dessert was ready.  I managed to haul myself out of bed, eat a s’more, and returned to bed at 8pm.  I ate three laxatives before bed, woke up at around 1am, and snuck downstairs to binge again (even though I was still full and feeling nauseous and wasn’t even hungry).  I ate a huge bowl of cornflakes cereal with honey and raisins, a piece of cinnamon raisin bread toasted with butter, a toaster strudel, some more Oreos with milk, more ice cream with whipped cream, and a bunch of other things I probably just can’t remember.  Went to bed feeling disgustingly full again and promising myself I would fast on Sunday.  Woke up five hours later…the laxatives were taking hold.  I snuck downstairs again and relieved myself on the toilet, stomach writhing.  I felt awfully sick and knew it was simply a matter of waiting for the laxatives to fully take effect until I would feel better and could return to bed.  So I laid a towel down on the ground and proceeded to catch some zzz’s on the bathroom floor until my next dumping spell.  I remembered hearing that if you lie on your left side, it helps your body digest and relieve itself of constipation and gas.  So to speed up the process, I lay on my left side, and right away a terrible wave of nausea washed over me and I began vomiting, and I mean vomiting, into the toilet.  Mouthfuls of undigested food was spewing forth from my wretched mouth.  Granted, I felt better after it was all done, but I got to admit…it was scary.  I realized for the first time that I couldn’t binge eat anymore.  Not like I’ve always had.  My body couldn’t take it anymore.  My stomach was too shrunken and my body couldn’t digest all that food.  So it only had one option, throw it back up.  As usually I make myself vomit after I’ve eaten a good amount of food like that but couldn’t self-induce it due to my circumstances and location, my body took it upon itself to do it for me. 
Two hours later, I found myself in my mother’s bed, crying that I was sick and did not feel good.  I ended up leaping up from bed thirty minutes later as my body went into its second spell of hideous vomiting.  Secretly, I was relieved that my body was tossing back the feast and would not be digesting all of those hundreds of calories I’d consumed and was proud in a fucked up sort of way that my body was literally going into shock as a result of all that consumption.  It proved to me that my body must literally be starving as a “normal” meal was foreign to it.  It could not digest food anymore and simply did not know what else to do but to get rid of it.  At the same time though, I felt like hell, was morbidly embarrassed, and knew I was in deep shit.  I mean, it’s not every day your child comes home looking rail thin, pale, and rickety, gorges herself, and spends the entire next day explosively vomiting and shitting into the latrine while wearing pink flannel pajama bottoms patterned with puppies and dog bone biscuits (I am 24 and no longer live at home by the way).  I was freezing to the bone, shivering, shaking, was pale as a ghost, terribly exhausted with dark circles under my eyes, and knew I was scaring the hell out of my parents.  As I keeled over the toilet bowl, I heard my mother run downstairs and begin whispering hurriedly to my father…”not well,” “sick,” “eating disorder,” “this is serious,” “doctor’s appointment,” "needs to move back home," were some of the words and phrases I caught.  My parents know for sure now that I have an eating disorder, although they are still unaware of its full extent.
Sunday morning when I finally hauled myself out of bed and showered, my mother forced me to eat breakfast consisting of French toast and fruit salad.  Monday, it was back to work.  I have been trying to survive throughout the work week on 200-300 calories.  I’ll just say that I am doing horribly.  I went grocery shopping and bought a bunch of foods other than my usual selections, and although they consisted mostly of vegetables, it was way too much variety for me.  I find it much simpler to eat the same things every day.  It ensures you’re consuming the same amount of calories and reduces the amount of stress and anxiety over what to eat and pack for lunch.  I have been “picking” and “biting” foods after my daily caloric allotment has been consumed, have been eating half of one of my colleague’s sandwiches at lunch, and have been snacking far too frequently.  I’ve also been having too many chew/spit episodes, especially at work which scares the hell out of me.  I need to control myself.  God forbid anyone ever walked in and saw me.  Or God forbid they walked in when my mouth was crammed with food and I’d be forced to swallow.  Anyway, if I step back and am honest with myself, all that chewing and spitting and snacking and eating others’ leftovers is accounting for hundreds and hundreds of excess calories per week.  No wonder I’m not losing any weight. 
And low and behold, I binged this weekend.  Thursday I left work after eating a shit ton of chex mix, candy bars, and trail mix, stopped at Dunkin Donuts, got a coffee roll, muffin, and munchkins with a sugary latte, stopped at McDonalds and got a Big Mac with fries, stopped at the grocery store and got nacho chips with dip, cookie dough, whipped cream, ice cream, Celeste pizza, goldfish, trail mix, cookies, cereal…I mean you name it, I got it.  I binged and purged and then forced myself to stay at the gym for two hours where I burned 500 calories.  I went from 99.5 to 102.7.  I took three laxatives and felt them during the first half of the next day at work, managed to get down to 101.2 (this morning 101).  Then, I was supposed to go to the Greek festival with my family Friday night, but in my bulimic stage of this disorder, food is a drug to me and I am an addict.  All I wanted to do was get home, polish off the rest of my binge foods in privacy, and purge.  So I did, but not without stopping at Dunks again, buying another sugary coffee, a bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich on a plain bagel, candied chex mix, and a bag of candy corn.  I ate all that and the rest of my binge foods from the previous night, purged, ate five laxatives, and passed out.  This morning, avowing I would fast today and tomorrow before returning to work on Monday, I yet again fucked up.  Binged on Reese’s cups, candy bars, cinnamon pretzel sticks from Annie’s with sugared frosting, a chicken Panini with pasta salad and potato chips, a piece of pumpkin bread with cream cheese and pumpkin latte from Starbucks, a pumpkin muffin from Dunks, a large white hot chocolate, a small hot apple cider, a cheese danish, a chicken pot pie, lollipops, and puked.  All I can fucking smell and taste is throw up.  I feel like my entire apartment reeks of throw up although it’s immaculate.  Maybe it’s just in my head.  My throat is raw and I’ve developed a cold from cramming my sticky, unwashed fingers down the back of my throat in haste.  I no longer sleep anymore, and I am a disgusting, fat cow. 
So, after all of my past couple of weeks’ snacking and frenzied, crazed chewing and spitting and bingeing and purging, I have a new plan.  Not to eat. 
Today is Saturday.  It is 3:30.  I have already binged on an exorbitant amount of food and purged.  I feel tired and disgusting.  I am waiting for the five laxatives I ate last night to take hold.  My throat is raw and swollen and infected and it hurts.  I am sick, physically and mentally.  Today has already been blown.  This week has been blown.  Last week was blown.  I am in the low hundreds on the scale (which feels huge to me as I am used to being less), I am bloated and flabby, I have not exercised in two days, and I am fucking determined.
I have fucked up long enough.  Besides, if I’m honest with myself, I really hate bulimia.  It sucks.  The panic, the crazed, frenzied anxiety over finding food, as much food as possible, shoving it into your face as quickly as possible, and then having to throw it all back up amidst tears and cursing your own human weakness.  It’s all quite pathetic really.  Starving might be really hard and might suck just as bad, but at least it’s much more controlled and neat.  And at least it yields positive results.  All bulimia gets you is an empty wallet and a smelly apartment.  Oh, and fat.  I went to the grocery store today and my plan is this….
On days I wake up hungry or have early classes and need energy, I will eat cereal with skim milk and blueberries.  I bought these Quaker oat squares and Kashi autumn harvest shredded wheat stuff.  That way, it’s substantial and a tad sugary whilst a tad nutritious and will fill me up.  It also puts me at around 300 calories which means that on days I eat the cereal, I will drink lots of diet soda and water for the rest of the day and be done.  If I am incredibly hungry, I may have a raw pepper with some mustard and black coffee and/or tea but that is it! 
On days I have afternoon classes and need energy or am simply not hungry in the morning, I will eat a low carb lavash wrap with fat free cottage cheese and cucumber.  On these days or days where I am craving sugar and a “treat,” I bought tootsie roll lollipops.  Hopefully, this will be enough sugar to boost my energy and focus levels and curb my ravishing desire for sweets and a binge. 
I will fast on Saturdays and Sundays.
I will work out twice a day (strength training/exercise DVD in morning  and cardio consisting of stationary bike riding and/or walking/jogging on treadmill in the evenings). 
For days and/or nights where I am particularly hungry or am bored with my wrap lunches, I will consume a bag of popcorn for lunch and a latte for breakfast.  This will ensure that I am staying within my caloric limit each and every day, that I still have little doses of sugar like in the lollipops or the cereal to avoid bingeing, and won’t feel “deprived.”  I mean, obviously what I’ve been doing hasn’t been working so it’s time to switch things up.  I am going to try and keep the cereal days to a minimum though…maybe twice a week.  There’s still a lot of carbs in cereal.  Plus, it's hard to face the rest of the day knowing you've already consumed your daily allotment and have nothing to look forward to.

I’m considering going back on my Zoloft and maybe this will help eliminate the manic stress and anxiety that starvation causes.  I also notice that when I’m feeling stressed due to work, I binge as binge eating disorder was my original disease.  So anything that gives me a more controlled edge will help alleviate these binge cycles (as well as incorporating the lollipops and popcorn with salt and zero calorie spray butter, lattes, and cereal).  That way, I’ll feel like I’m eating and won’t feel so deprived whilst managing to stay within my caloric allotment, still manage to consume a low calorie, low fat, low carb diet, and exercise twice daily.

....
Well, I just made a list of all the "safe" foods I am allowing myself and made an Excel spreadsheet document listing all of the nutritional information of each food including calories, carbs, sugar, protein, fiber, sodium, and fat grams.  I then created five different meal plans which all equate to 300 calories per day and are all low fat, low carb, low sugar meal plans.  They also vary in when the food will be consumed.  For example, some days consist of a breakfast meal plan, other days a lunch meal plan, and other day a grazing meal plan where small portions of healthy things are allowed to be consumed at various points of hunger throughout the day.  I can't tell you how good and in control this makes me feel.  I am printing it out and taping it to my fridge.  That way I know exactly the same sets of foods I am allowed to consume and the exact combinations of these foods which will yield the exact caloric amount I am allowed per day.  In addition, each of the meal plans consists of a variety of carbs, proteins, fruits, veggies, and dairies (not all food categories are consumed per meal plan).  It feels so fucking good to have a plan.  My goal is starting tomorrow (Sunday) I will cleanse my system by fasting, exercising (a cardio and upper body strength training regiment), and hopefully those laxatives will kick in come tomorrow (I am considering taking a couple more tonight...).  Thursday through today (Saturday) I have binged and purged everyday.  But my purging has been in no way sufficient enough to account for all of the fat and calories I have consumed and allowed to stay in and not going to the gym.  Sigh.  Anyway, I'm definitely feeling ridiculously fat and SEE it in my pudgy face and stomach.  So tomorrow, fast.  Then my plan is to stick with my diet plan (300 calories per day Monday through Friday based off of my pre-planned meal plans), fast on the weekends (no food Saturday or Sunday), exercise twice a day consisting of both strength training and cardio allowing myself one rest day per week (probably Sunday), and take laxatives to avoid bloat, gas, water/sodium retention, and constipation.  I am going to remain dilligent to this plan until Thanksgiving where I will celebrate my achievements with a wholesome Thanksgiving feast and visit home.  That is exactly two months of being a "good" anorectic.  If I truly stick to this, I know for a fact I will lose at least ten pounds and will finally be around 90 pounds.  I know this will work wonders if I can keep my mind sharp and my mouth closed.  Now, I know this is not going to be easy.  This is a difficult plan and schedule to follow.  It will certainly take some getting used to and the temptations will be hideous.  However, I figure if I can use this as my outlet and write and express when the times are tough, keep myself busy, and try to avoid temptation (like bringing a book to work and reading through my lunch break in the library for instance), then I can keep myself busy, focused, distracted, calm, and on-task.  I can do this and know that I have to if I want to see and feel the change in myself.  I've been doing horribly and I'm getting bored and tired and frustrated with it.  The only one standing in my way is me and this plan is fool-proof.  If I want this bad enough, it can be mine.  I just have to step out of my own goddamn way.  But in a fucked up way, I'm excited! 
Binge eating makes you renew the cycle of starvvation with newfound determination because you remind yourself how disgusting you are and how disgusting you feel once you've eaten and crave to feel the purity and super-human self-control that comes with emptiness and the anorexia.
At work, people are quite concerned about me and I heard through the grapevine that a few colleagues of mine have taken it upon themselves to go to my boss about me without my knowledge or permission and express concern that I am visibly and clearly sick.  I also notice that people talk to me, look at me, and treat me different.  Even strangers stare at me while I walk by.  Everyone says I look skeletal, bony, and anorexic.  I think I look fat, pudgy, and horrendously normal and average.  Sometimes I might catch my reflection and see the sunken, hollow cheeks, the face that looks haggard and pale and worn, the way my face is all eyes and mouth and teeth which look like odd dimensions that don't quite fit right, I see the bones sticking out of my shoulders and back and chest, the atrophied breasts, and the veins that bulge from my abdomen, arms, and hands.  I see the dark circles, the mossy teeth, the gap between my legs, the hollows on the sides of my buttocks and hips.  I see these things but for a moment, but then the images that were concave become convex, and it is lost.
It pisses me off more than anything, this misconstrued notion people have that we "eating disordered folk" just don't eat.  How naive can they be?  Everytime I eat something, people at work stop and stare at me and what I'm eating or comment on it or ask about it.  I secretly think they're taking notes for themselves.  ;-)  It also aggravates me when my mom tells me to just knock it off and cut it out, that I have the control and power.  I'm just getting really sick of the looks and the comments and the ignorance surrounding this disease.  And all I want to do is to be alone with it.  For the first time in my life, I could care less about men and relationships.  In fact, the mere thought of being intimate with any man makes me want to vomit.  All the touching and exchange of bodies and eating that is involved with relationships.  The lack of privacy and devotion of time and self to another.  I am in no way capable in my state of living at present to devote myself to another human being, and I love that I don't want to.  It's fucking liberating!  My eating disorder has become my friend and my lover, my constant companion.  And even though sometimes I hate it and wish it would just fuck off, other times I love it.  It makes me feel never alone, makes me feel powerful, makes me feel special.  Like any relationship, I suppose it's a love/hate one.  All the friends I did have I've lost because of this and I am learning to isolate myself more and more from other people.  They don't want to hear about it anymore and I don't want to talk about it anymore because I feel like a phony considering how much I've eaten over the course of the past three days.  And the eating disorder makes me not care about such losses, I don't cry anymore over spilled milk (no pun intended).  My parents want me to move back home so they can feed me and monitor me, my colleagues want me to move closer to work and them so they can keep an eye on me on the weekends, etc.  But my apartment enables me and at this point, I am not ready to live around or with anyone.  My eating disorder and I are quite comfortable here and already take up too much space as is....  And so tonight I dine and tomorrow I fast and then I starve for the next two months until Thanksgiving.  Happy Fall everyone!  Here's to hoping my weight falls just as fast as this season has come upon us.  Cheers!