Monday, April 2, 2012
Messing Up
I'm starting to freak out a little bit about going to see my dietician tomorrow. I didn't do so good with the meal plan this week, and I'm dreading trying to explain to her why I messed up again. Every logical course of reasoning points to: A) follow the meal plan, B) drink the damn Boost, and C) get the hell over the fact that your butt will get bigger. It all makes perfect sense. But then why is this so damn hard to actually do?
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Playing with Fire
Hey guys - I'm sitting here on a Saturday morning with not a whole lot of homework to do and a pretty open day I just gotta say, I'm so happy right now. I don't even know why, but I'm feeling super chilled out and at peace and just like, content. All week, I kept waiting and waiting for this happiness to end and for me to lose my mind and go nuts again, but (knock on wood) that hasn't happened and I'm so, so grateful. At therapy yesterday, R asked me how things were going, like he always does, and for the first time since I started seeing him almost seven months ago, I was able to say "Great!" and really mean it. It was nice to show him a positive side of me. Usually, it feels like I spend the entire session whining and moaning about how hard my life is. I am really sensitive about coming across as mopey and unmotivated and self-indulgent with him (or with anyone), and R definitely only sees me at my bitterest and unhappiest 90% of the time we spend together. So it was an awesome change to shake off that negativity and be this happy, engaged person who feels more like my real self.
I got hired for an internship this summer, which I am SO excited about. My interview was on Tuesday and I got hired on the spot, which has done wonders for my self-esteem and I'm still on a bit of a high from that. Since I'll be staying in College City, I am also trying to get involved in a research project with a professor, which sounds fascinating. Yesterday, I discovered that my advisor is good friends with this professor and promised to put in a good word for me. (Networking, networking.) Plus, my roommate will be here too, meaning that we can live together through the summer. Some of my other friends are also staying in town, so hopefully we can maintain a semblance of a social life during the time when everyone usually scatters across the country.
As I was telling R about all this exciting goodness going on and everything that I was looking forward to in the next couple months, he seemed genuinely really happy for me and concluded: "That's excellent. Now there's just that pesky eating thing."
And I suppose I shouldn't gloss over the one iffy thing going on (my eating), but honestly, it hasn't even been on my mind a whole lot compared to most of the last year. Since getting food poisoning, I've definitely been eating more restrictively and my weight is down a few pounds that I - full disclosure here, don't be disappointed in me - do not really want to regain. I was not prepared for how easily triggered I'd be by the small, unexpected loss. Since then, I've basically settled into this pattern of halfhearted restriction, but I'm not actually obsessing about food or calories or weight all that much. It is just sort of like my thermostat for how much is "allowed" was quietly turned down without much fuss, and that was that.
The irony of improved mood correlating with deteriorating health is not lost on me, and I am absolutely not suggesting that restriction is a viable solution to depression - it's a stupid, short-sighted solution, and honestly, it's playing with fire. I'm not unmotivated to get back on the recovery bandwagon full throttle, but I am still a little wary about messing with this newfound happiness.
I got hired for an internship this summer, which I am SO excited about. My interview was on Tuesday and I got hired on the spot, which has done wonders for my self-esteem and I'm still on a bit of a high from that. Since I'll be staying in College City, I am also trying to get involved in a research project with a professor, which sounds fascinating. Yesterday, I discovered that my advisor is good friends with this professor and promised to put in a good word for me. (Networking, networking.) Plus, my roommate will be here too, meaning that we can live together through the summer. Some of my other friends are also staying in town, so hopefully we can maintain a semblance of a social life during the time when everyone usually scatters across the country.
As I was telling R about all this exciting goodness going on and everything that I was looking forward to in the next couple months, he seemed genuinely really happy for me and concluded: "That's excellent. Now there's just that pesky eating thing."
And I suppose I shouldn't gloss over the one iffy thing going on (my eating), but honestly, it hasn't even been on my mind a whole lot compared to most of the last year. Since getting food poisoning, I've definitely been eating more restrictively and my weight is down a few pounds that I - full disclosure here, don't be disappointed in me - do not really want to regain. I was not prepared for how easily triggered I'd be by the small, unexpected loss. Since then, I've basically settled into this pattern of halfhearted restriction, but I'm not actually obsessing about food or calories or weight all that much. It is just sort of like my thermostat for how much is "allowed" was quietly turned down without much fuss, and that was that.
The irony of improved mood correlating with deteriorating health is not lost on me, and I am absolutely not suggesting that restriction is a viable solution to depression - it's a stupid, short-sighted solution, and honestly, it's playing with fire. I'm not unmotivated to get back on the recovery bandwagon full throttle, but I am still a little wary about messing with this newfound happiness.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Treatment Recap
I suppose I should update about my last couple of sessions before I go for my next one tomorrow. Therapy on Friday was, in a word, frustrating. Traffic made me five minutes late so I was already flustered and stressed out. Then I sat in the waiting room for fifteen more minutes until R came out. Seriously, how are you already almost a half-hour behind schedule at nine o'clock in the morning? Lateness is a major pet peeve...can you tell?
But that wasn't the main reason I was frustrated. It should have been a positive and productive appointment because things are going really well for me lately and I am feeling a lot more like myself. But then it ended up being lame and pointless - like if I'm doing okay, then there's nothing really left for us to discuss. Even though I had lost some weight and admitted to R that I was eating pretty restrictively since getting sick on spring break, we didn't really talk about that or anything else substantial. Then he let me out almost ten minutes early. So my hour-long session was reduced to a whopping total of about thirty-five minutes. Granted, I know that I'm pretty withdrawn and do not make it particularly easy on R to get stuff out of me, but still, I was irritated with the way we left things.
Reading back over that, I hope it doesn't come across as bitter or snotty or entitled or anything. I know that I need to work harder in therapy and that this thing is a two-way street, but it just bugs me when R doesn't try very hard to push me.
Then on Monday, I saw my dietician J after having procrastinated and not made an appointment with her for about three weeks. Technically, I think I am supposed to see her weekly but honestly, that's overkill at this point. (Not to mention expensive. And she's even $90 cheaper per session than my old D was!)
In the past couple months, I've noticed that J has changed her approach with me. She used to be very methodical about writing out my meal plan and setting goals like eat 100% of breakfast three days this week or buy butter or order a non-salad entree at a restaurant that I usually never accomplished. So my weight fluctuated within about a 3-lb range for six months as I waffled week-to-week on how compliant I was actually going to be.
Now, we barely even talk about specific foods at all anymore. J is always sweet and perky and upbeat, but I'm getting the sense that she's pretty frustrated with me, and basically at a loss as to what to do. She keeps telling me that I'm "stuck" in my motivation for recovery and that she's "stuck" about how to proceed. On Monday, she kept asking me what I want for the future - like specifically, do I want to have kids someday, and do I want my kids to pick up on Mom's screwy eating habits. (Just to be clear: we were speaking hypothetically. Although I do want to have kids, this is not happening ANYTIME SOON.)
Anyway, it's hard to hear that stuff when in all other respects, I'm doing awesomely. I finally seem to have more of a handle on my moods and emotions, I'm not crying all the time, the anxiety (knock on wood) is lying dormant, despite being off all meds - and I do not want to be confronted with Serious Conversations about how I'm destroying my fertility. And I don't feel like I'm in denial - I know that I have an eating disorder and I know that I'm not recovered, but it's odd that R doesn't seem to have a lot to say while J is only saying what I don't want to hear.
But that wasn't the main reason I was frustrated. It should have been a positive and productive appointment because things are going really well for me lately and I am feeling a lot more like myself. But then it ended up being lame and pointless - like if I'm doing okay, then there's nothing really left for us to discuss. Even though I had lost some weight and admitted to R that I was eating pretty restrictively since getting sick on spring break, we didn't really talk about that or anything else substantial. Then he let me out almost ten minutes early. So my hour-long session was reduced to a whopping total of about thirty-five minutes. Granted, I know that I'm pretty withdrawn and do not make it particularly easy on R to get stuff out of me, but still, I was irritated with the way we left things.
Reading back over that, I hope it doesn't come across as bitter or snotty or entitled or anything. I know that I need to work harder in therapy and that this thing is a two-way street, but it just bugs me when R doesn't try very hard to push me.
Then on Monday, I saw my dietician J after having procrastinated and not made an appointment with her for about three weeks. Technically, I think I am supposed to see her weekly but honestly, that's overkill at this point. (Not to mention expensive. And she's even $90 cheaper per session than my old D was!)
In the past couple months, I've noticed that J has changed her approach with me. She used to be very methodical about writing out my meal plan and setting goals like eat 100% of breakfast three days this week or buy butter or order a non-salad entree at a restaurant that I usually never accomplished. So my weight fluctuated within about a 3-lb range for six months as I waffled week-to-week on how compliant I was actually going to be.
Now, we barely even talk about specific foods at all anymore. J is always sweet and perky and upbeat, but I'm getting the sense that she's pretty frustrated with me, and basically at a loss as to what to do. She keeps telling me that I'm "stuck" in my motivation for recovery and that she's "stuck" about how to proceed. On Monday, she kept asking me what I want for the future - like specifically, do I want to have kids someday, and do I want my kids to pick up on Mom's screwy eating habits. (Just to be clear: we were speaking hypothetically. Although I do want to have kids, this is not happening ANYTIME SOON.)
Anyway, it's hard to hear that stuff when in all other respects, I'm doing awesomely. I finally seem to have more of a handle on my moods and emotions, I'm not crying all the time, the anxiety (knock on wood) is lying dormant, despite being off all meds - and I do not want to be confronted with Serious Conversations about how I'm destroying my fertility. And I don't feel like I'm in denial - I know that I have an eating disorder and I know that I'm not recovered, but it's odd that R doesn't seem to have a lot to say while J is only saying what I don't want to hear.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Getting Weighed
I had an appointment with a new (non-ED related) doctor today, which always means rehashing my medical history and making judgment calls about what information is relevant (anorexia? osteopenia? period stuff?). The nurse took all my vitals and, of course, made me hop on the scale. I've been to enough doctors in the past year to know that this is routine, but it still throws me for a loop. Inevitably I had to fight the urge to interject and make sure the nurse was aware that 1) I had on jeans and a belt 2) there were two cups of coffee in my stomach 3) my dinner was extra salty last night 4) I hadn't peed very much yet that morning etc. etc. etc. Not that she cared about the five million factors that could have contributed to a 3-lb fluctuation one way or the other, but I didn't want her to think I was fat!
Usually the weight thing is not an issue and nurses simply write it down without comment, but this morning I got a lot of Wow, I wonder if you're even over XXX...so tiny...we might need to get out the newborn scale hahahahaha. When she was taking my blood pressure, she couldn't get a reading because the cuff was too big and she had to borrow a children's one, so she got a lot of mileage out of that as well. While you'd think that I would have been flattered and eaten that crap up, I was actually more uncomfortable and freaked out. Comments about being small or skinny validate my current weight in my head, and make me think that I shouldn't gain above it or else. Especially since I have a follow-up appointment at this office in six weeks, so I worry about being scrutinized if they weigh me again and I'm suddenly not tiny anymore.
Getting weighed at my therapist R's office isn't that stressful anymore, partly because it's blind. I still weigh myself at home (trying to quit that!) so the weight isn't a secret, but there's something about not being confronted with the actual number at my appointments that lowers the stress level a bit. R tells me whether my weight has gone up or down, and then we usually move on. He only really addresses my weight if it goes down significantly, or goes down for a couple of weeks in a row.
Something I'm not proud of is that I am still very conscious about how much I eat/drink before my appointments. I don't restrict, per se, but I usually skip the second cup of coffee. I don't know why I have this compulsion, especially since R wants my weight to go up and I usually get a talking-to that makes me feel like crap when it goes down. It's more of a habit at this point and I'm not exactly sure what my motivations are - or if I even have any, other than a deep-seated, eating-disordered desire to be the lowest weight possible, regardless of any outside factors.
Usually the weight thing is not an issue and nurses simply write it down without comment, but this morning I got a lot of Wow, I wonder if you're even over XXX...so tiny...we might need to get out the newborn scale hahahahaha. When she was taking my blood pressure, she couldn't get a reading because the cuff was too big and she had to borrow a children's one, so she got a lot of mileage out of that as well. While you'd think that I would have been flattered and eaten that crap up, I was actually more uncomfortable and freaked out. Comments about being small or skinny validate my current weight in my head, and make me think that I shouldn't gain above it or else. Especially since I have a follow-up appointment at this office in six weeks, so I worry about being scrutinized if they weigh me again and I'm suddenly not tiny anymore.
Getting weighed at my therapist R's office isn't that stressful anymore, partly because it's blind. I still weigh myself at home (trying to quit that!) so the weight isn't a secret, but there's something about not being confronted with the actual number at my appointments that lowers the stress level a bit. R tells me whether my weight has gone up or down, and then we usually move on. He only really addresses my weight if it goes down significantly, or goes down for a couple of weeks in a row.
Something I'm not proud of is that I am still very conscious about how much I eat/drink before my appointments. I don't restrict, per se, but I usually skip the second cup of coffee. I don't know why I have this compulsion, especially since R wants my weight to go up and I usually get a talking-to that makes me feel like crap when it goes down. It's more of a habit at this point and I'm not exactly sure what my motivations are - or if I even have any, other than a deep-seated, eating-disordered desire to be the lowest weight possible, regardless of any outside factors.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Oops
...and I completely underestimated the trigger-potential of an inadvertent X-lb weight loss. I keep telling myself that I'm still sick and need to be careful about what I put in my delicate little tummy, but it's clear by now that the real reason I'm not back on my meal plan is this: I'm tickled pink about the weight loss. The thought of regaining it is like suddenly the worst thing ever. A week ago, I had no intentions of losing weight; now that I have, though, I can't fathom how I let myself be seen in public at a weight X lbs higher.
I am amazed, actually, at how easily I dropped my calories and left them there. My appetite isn't totally back to its pre-stomach bug state, but it's getting there, and there's no reason for me to be eating skimpy portions of my old meals and snacks. Suddenly, I find myself with all these new self-imposed rules about what and when I can eat. I almost don't even notice them because I've been off my regular meal plan for a couple weeks now (first when I was away on vacation, and then when I was sick) so it's hard to remember what my normal plan looked like, but this isn't it. Now I'm just sort of left standing here wondering how did this happen?
I'm also amazed at how crappy it feels to be in an energy deficit, even if only for a few days. I am so, so tired. Not sleepy tired; more like my whole body is weak and heavy and totally wiped out. Every little movement seems to take a hundred times more effort than usual. I get winded walking around campus, and climbing stairs is complete torture.
Okay. Since I'm fully aware of what is happening and I'm not an idiot, here's the plan:
1) Eat full breakfast tomorrow. Maybe that will put my head in a sane enough place that will allow for full lunch and full dinner to follow.
2) Don't freak out and assume that I've overeaten if I am not hungry at any given meal time. My appetite is still out of whack, and the best way to get my body running properly again is to feed it.
3) Be honest with my dietician at my appointment tomorrow morning, even though it means she will probably send me home with a beefed up meal plan that I will want nothing to do with. Deal with that later.
I am amazed, actually, at how easily I dropped my calories and left them there. My appetite isn't totally back to its pre-stomach bug state, but it's getting there, and there's no reason for me to be eating skimpy portions of my old meals and snacks. Suddenly, I find myself with all these new self-imposed rules about what and when I can eat. I almost don't even notice them because I've been off my regular meal plan for a couple weeks now (first when I was away on vacation, and then when I was sick) so it's hard to remember what my normal plan looked like, but this isn't it. Now I'm just sort of left standing here wondering how did this happen?
I'm also amazed at how crappy it feels to be in an energy deficit, even if only for a few days. I am so, so tired. Not sleepy tired; more like my whole body is weak and heavy and totally wiped out. Every little movement seems to take a hundred times more effort than usual. I get winded walking around campus, and climbing stairs is complete torture.
Okay. Since I'm fully aware of what is happening and I'm not an idiot, here's the plan:
1) Eat full breakfast tomorrow. Maybe that will put my head in a sane enough place that will allow for full lunch and full dinner to follow.
2) Don't freak out and assume that I've overeaten if I am not hungry at any given meal time. My appetite is still out of whack, and the best way to get my body running properly again is to feed it.
3) Be honest with my dietician at my appointment tomorrow morning, even though it means she will probably send me home with a beefed up meal plan that I will want nothing to do with. Deal with that later.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
A Good One
Things are going really, really well right now. I am superstitious enough to worry about saying that and jinxing it, but I figure it's better to just enjoy the moment and acknowledge that hey, I'm happy. I have a lot going for me right now and it's okay to recognize that and feel good about it and not start worrying about what could go wrong tomorrow or next week or next year.
A rundown of the goodness:
- I just got back from one of the most amazing vacations of my life. I got to see a part of the country that I've always wanted to visit and it was even more breathtakingly beautiful than I had imagined. I wish I were brave enough to share pictures from my trip in here, but I'm super duper nervous about privacy so you will just have to let your imaginations do the work., I got to spend the week with my mom and dad, who are wonderful and loving and spoil me rotten.
- My summer plans are maybe sort of almost falling into place. It took a ton of e-mails ("Hey! Remember me? Hire me! Please?") but I think I may have lined up some stuff that should be really interesting and fun, and will hopefully make for a much better experience than my godawful internship last summer.
- I'm still having a lot of unresolved health issues, between my heart and my eyes and some other stuff, but I also have access to some of the best doctors in the country - plus the insurance to cover it. So I am relatively really really lucky. Next week, I finally have my appointment with a specialist (and only had to wait six weeks for the opening...), so that should clear up some uncertainties and hopefully put my mind at ease.
- Tonight, I am going to a sorority formal (I'm not actually in the sorority, but some of my best friends are and we're going as a group). Not going to lie, I've been ruminating a little all week about the food/drinks/change of routine issues, but at the moment I'm actually pretty excited. Getting out is always good for me, and I've been more of a hermit in the past year than ever before, so taking risks and putting myself out there again is a really positive step.
- My roommate and I got our housing arrangements settled for next year and we are super happy with the result. Our apartment is going to be a little smaller than this year, but it's on the building's top floor - which means no more running and pounding from above at all hours. Good trade-off, I say.
- Also, my roommate is the best. Seriously, best roommate - and best friend - that I could have ever asked for. She is the only person that I talk about ED stuff with, and she's always completely understanding and supportive and helpful. One of the best tools I've found in recovery is the fact that we make and eat dinner together every single night, and I don't really know where I would be without that constant.
- The weather fucking rocks. Is it summer already? I can't even describe how happy it makes me to be able to walk around in a t-shirt and feel the hot sun on my skin instead of a bulky winter coat while still getting chilled to the bone. Suck it, winter.
A rundown of the goodness:
- I just got back from one of the most amazing vacations of my life. I got to see a part of the country that I've always wanted to visit and it was even more breathtakingly beautiful than I had imagined. I wish I were brave enough to share pictures from my trip in here, but I'm super duper nervous about privacy so you will just have to let your imaginations do the work., I got to spend the week with my mom and dad, who are wonderful and loving and spoil me rotten.
- My summer plans are maybe sort of almost falling into place. It took a ton of e-mails ("Hey! Remember me? Hire me! Please?") but I think I may have lined up some stuff that should be really interesting and fun, and will hopefully make for a much better experience than my godawful internship last summer.
- I'm still having a lot of unresolved health issues, between my heart and my eyes and some other stuff, but I also have access to some of the best doctors in the country - plus the insurance to cover it. So I am relatively really really lucky. Next week, I finally have my appointment with a specialist (and only had to wait six weeks for the opening...), so that should clear up some uncertainties and hopefully put my mind at ease.
- Tonight, I am going to a sorority formal (I'm not actually in the sorority, but some of my best friends are and we're going as a group). Not going to lie, I've been ruminating a little all week about the food/drinks/change of routine issues, but at the moment I'm actually pretty excited. Getting out is always good for me, and I've been more of a hermit in the past year than ever before, so taking risks and putting myself out there again is a really positive step.
- My roommate and I got our housing arrangements settled for next year and we are super happy with the result. Our apartment is going to be a little smaller than this year, but it's on the building's top floor - which means no more running and pounding from above at all hours. Good trade-off, I say.
- Also, my roommate is the best. Seriously, best roommate - and best friend - that I could have ever asked for. She is the only person that I talk about ED stuff with, and she's always completely understanding and supportive and helpful. One of the best tools I've found in recovery is the fact that we make and eat dinner together every single night, and I don't really know where I would be without that constant.
- The weather fucking rocks. Is it summer already? I can't even describe how happy it makes me to be able to walk around in a t-shirt and feel the hot sun on my skin instead of a bulky winter coat while still getting chilled to the bone. Suck it, winter.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
(Sort of) Back in Action
Back to school! I have pretty much jumped in with both feet, even though my tummy is still a little unhappy and my whole body is numb with exhaustion. I'm not yet totally up to eating my usual bushels of fresh fruits and veggies (or meat and dairy), but I've expanded beyond plain toast and white soda. This little bout with food poisoning (I'm think it was food poisoning, although I can't actually say for sure) has really messed with me. Besides the part where I was violently ill for two days and meandered my way back across the continental United States in a nauseated fog, I'm still just feeling completely drained. At this point, it isn't even about me being sick anymore, but about my body being wiped out from the ordeal, and me not taking in enough calories and/or fluids to sustain myself.
Basically, I am terrified to eat too much or the wrong thing - not because of the usual anorexic reasons, but because I'm scared of upsetting my stomach and getting sick again. I'm not on the verge of puking everywhere all the time anymore, but I have no appetite and nothing really looks very good to me. Last night while my roommate was cooking herself dinner on the stove, I was standing in front of the open fridge wailing, "But I don't know what to eat!" It's really easy to forgo food when the thought of it makes you queasy and the memory of puking over the toilet is still fresh in your mind. So I've been letting myself get worn down from lack of calories without really realizing it, and then I wonder why my legs feel like lead and it takes me twenty minutes to climb six stairs.
My weight is down a few pounds - no surprise, really. I'm trying not to let that tempt me back into hmm isn't this nice, maybe I could just lose a little bit more, but I can definitely sense a teensy shift in my mindset. Not that I'm in full-on Operation: Weight Loss mode or anything, but part of me is secretly resisting the idea of gaining back the weight I've lost. Obviously, the lower number on the scale is a result of dehydration rather than real weight loss, but my mind is conveniently ignoring that fact. Like the new weight is suddenly the new maximum acceptable number, by some inexplicable Kaylee-decreed reasoning.
Food and weight stuff aside: I got my period again! Third time in two years. (Is it still appropriate for me to brag about this? To me, getting a semi-regular cycle is a complete novelty and I'm thrilled.) I skipped February and this month's isn't totally normal, but I'll take it! 'Scuse me while I go pop some Midol.
Basically, I am terrified to eat too much or the wrong thing - not because of the usual anorexic reasons, but because I'm scared of upsetting my stomach and getting sick again. I'm not on the verge of puking everywhere all the time anymore, but I have no appetite and nothing really looks very good to me. Last night while my roommate was cooking herself dinner on the stove, I was standing in front of the open fridge wailing, "But I don't know what to eat!" It's really easy to forgo food when the thought of it makes you queasy and the memory of puking over the toilet is still fresh in your mind. So I've been letting myself get worn down from lack of calories without really realizing it, and then I wonder why my legs feel like lead and it takes me twenty minutes to climb six stairs.
My weight is down a few pounds - no surprise, really. I'm trying not to let that tempt me back into hmm isn't this nice, maybe I could just lose a little bit more, but I can definitely sense a teensy shift in my mindset. Not that I'm in full-on Operation: Weight Loss mode or anything, but part of me is secretly resisting the idea of gaining back the weight I've lost. Obviously, the lower number on the scale is a result of dehydration rather than real weight loss, but my mind is conveniently ignoring that fact. Like the new weight is suddenly the new maximum acceptable number, by some inexplicable Kaylee-decreed reasoning.
Food and weight stuff aside: I got my period again! Third time in two years. (Is it still appropriate for me to brag about this? To me, getting a semi-regular cycle is a complete novelty and I'm thrilled.) I skipped February and this month's isn't totally normal, but I'll take it! 'Scuse me while I go pop some Midol.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)