Thanksgiving, Halloween, Christmas…cue the nightmare season for ED where everything revolves around food.
Thanksgiving, Halloween, Christmas…cue the nightmare season for ED where everything revolves around food.
Last week was filled with anxiety and ED. I restricted every day mostly existing on black coffee and grapes. At night anything I ate got purged immediately. I am seeing a man who has 2 kids from 2 different women and things are not going well with one of the exes. All I could think about was running away the more we talked about the subject. On the weekend my kidneys started hurting. They are so fragile these days that at the first sign of infection, I am in trouble. When I saw the doctor on Monday she gave me a stern lecture. My body is so run down that every couple of weeks I am sick. She gave me antibiotics and told me to go straight to hospital at the first sign of it getting worse. It got worse, of course, and I decided not to go to hospital but to wait it out. I couldn’t face explaining the situation to my boyfriend, a doctor, a nurse, my work, my roommates. I just don’t care anymore. The last time I had a kidney infection I ended up on an IV.
I tried to eat better but ended up starving for 2 days and then purging instead. Tomorrow I have to go and have blood work to check my electrolytes. The anxiety I feel is debilitating. I can’t eat. I don’t sleep. When I do eat, it calms me momentarily and then I panic. I am in a situation where I cannot see any outcome other than heartache. I feel like I love a man who doesn’t have room for me in his life. I have this horrible sinking feeling that when it comes down to dealing with his psyhco ex-girlfriend/mother of one of the kids, he will make the wrong choice to keep her happy and I will have to walk away. I have a feeling that it is all going to explode this weekend. I wish I could be calm and look after myself, but I don’t know how.
My interview with Grace On The Moon
Originally posted on Grace on the Moon:
21 Questions is a series of interviews with people who currently have an eating disorder or have recovered from one. The same 21 questions are asked of each person. Each interview sketches a picture of someone who has been in the depths of the reality of an eating disorder and is either still working on blazing a path out of it or has gone on to recover. Some of the names used have been changed at the request of the interviewee. If you would like to be interviewed for this series, please contact us.
Interview with Darcy:
Q: How old are you?
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You can get away with a lot when you label things. I met my boyfriend’s family at Thanksgiving and was nervous about the food situation. When you say you are vegan or vegetarian you can hide a lot of disordered behaviour. On top of that, I always explain about my hypothyroidism and the need to watch my calorie intake. It works like a charm. No one questions my obviously bizarre attitude to food.
On the first morning Heath’s mom suggested that we take the kids to McDonalds for breakfast. My heart started pounding and I could feel the anxiety rising. When we got there he looked at me and asked if I would eat anything. I shook my head and shot him a pleading look not call attention to it. He is so good that he just goes along with everything and doesn’t make a big deal of it.
Later in the day when I was doubled over from starvation, I told him I had to have celery.
“I love celery.” I said without even thinking about the stupidity of the statement.
He laughed, “No you do not!”
We went to the farmers’ market and were given a free muffin each to sample. Without even batting an eyelid, Heath held his hand out for the muffin he knew I did not want. I gave it to him and he pocketed it. No one even saw it happen.
At dinner he tried to help me navigate the vegetables that had been cross contaminated with meat or drowned in butter and sugar. There was nothing safe to eat. I wonder if my panic was obvious.
For the actual Thanksgiving meal, they decided on Raclette and not turkey which was not good for me. I am dangerous around melted cheese on anything. I ate with abandon. I knew after two bites that I would be purging the meal immediately. I drank most of a bottle of wine to help the process. I made an excuse to my boyfriend and went downstairs to throw up. The house was so busy and loud that I am sure no one even noticed.
At one point Heath’s dad talked about my “healthy” eating of fruits and veggies and I went into a detailed explanation of my vegetarianism and hypothyroidism. He marveled at my ability to eat so little then said that all I was waiting for is to get married and then I would eat everything I can see and weigh 400lbs. It has become the running family joke. It is funny because it will never happen and they don’t know why.
I am sick again. Every other month I come down with something. It is as though my immune system is so overwhelmed that it barely functions. Two weeks ago after days of purging, I ended up with a sore throat. Cue swollen tonsils, purple streaks down the back of my throat and the inability to swallow without pain. I tried to be good and keep purging to a minimum where I couldn’t avoid it. I hate being sick. It means I cannot go to gym or hot yoga because exercising seems to prolong the illness. Most days I am battling chronic fatigue or migraines as it is. I do not need this, but I know it is my fault. For my birthday we went out for dinner and I was unknowingly served meat in the bread. Who puts meat in bread? Without making a scene, I left the table and went to purge.
The next day the sore throat was back worse than ever. Today I woke up with a full blown cold: coughing, snotty and spaced out. I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed never mind hit the gym or even go to work. I called in sick which gave me debilitating anxiety. I spent the day in bed alternating between hot and cold, awake and asleep. Not sick enough to be in bed; not well enough to be at work. The worst kind of sick where you can’t justify either. Sadly my cold hasn’t made me sick enough to lose my appetite. I wonder why I can’t get the kind of sick that makes me not want to eat. A few days of that would surely do me some good. More good than purging up what I do eat. I am so tired of being hungry.
I had a birthday this weekend which means I have now had this eating disorder for 22 years officially. I have been sick for more than 2/3s of my life. I had an EKG today and blood work as part of a referral to outpatient treatment. I have no intention of going to the treatment centre. That would mean missing three months of work and confessing to my boyfriend that my ED is out of control. If only I was thin enough to justify all of this; to make it worth while.
Originally posted on WTHITV.com:
TERRE HAUTE, Ind. (WTHI) – It’s an issue that many don’t like to talk about and it can be life threatening.
September marks Eating Disorder Awareness Month.
They are disorders that are on the rise nationwide, and right here in the Wabash Valley.
In a society where body image dominates TV, movies, and magazines it’s hard to separate Hollywood from real life especially in the classroom.
“It’s a bit like having a gun that is loaded, and certain things start to trigger, and it’s fired.”
It is estimated that twenty million women and ten million men currently suffer from an eating disorder.
“The physical and emotional damage that we are doing to our bodies, and our heart, and our soul, they are significant, and we need to address these things.”
Even more so as these habits are starting earlier and earlier.
“Six year olds are going to school and they…
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I restrict all day to counter the bingeing of yesterday. I am determined not to eat until tomorrow. Somewhere around mid-evening my resolve snaps. I decide that I can eat cauliflower and hummus rather than go on another binge. Once I have made the decision to allow myself to eat, I cannot wait. It is urgent, serious, life threatening. I drive to the grocery store. I am frantic. I hit every red light. It is the longest drive in the history of driving. I grip the steering wheel. I want to bang my head against it out of hunger and rage. I am on edge knowing that I could lose control and buy anything, everything except that cauliflower. It is my sole focus.
In the grocery store I run crazily looking for the damn cauliflower. An old man is shuffling in front of me and I am shaking. He blocks the aisle and I want to shout from frustration. There has to be a faster way to get food than this. “Don’t binge. Don’t Binge. Please, don’t binge.” I mutter like a mantra as I start to panic. There is no cauliflower anywhere. I must be delirious. How can there not be the one food that I am allowed to eat? I ask the store clerk for cauliflower. He says he will check in the back. I stand amongst the vegetables ready to weep. I will lie down by the lettuces and sob if there is no cauliflower. I am so terrified of going on a binge if I cannot find the one safe food I crave. I must eat a cauliflower. My existence has been narrowed down to this.
Eventually he returns with one and I am beside myself with relief. I take it, ecstatic. I know I am sick. I am so excited about this cauliflower that I want to cry. I try to rush out the store. The line ups to pay are agonizingly long. Another old person is strolling in front of me. I will not make it. I will not survive this. It will finish me. I will die of this starvation holding a f**king, miserable cauliflower in my hands like it was the holy grail.
When I was growing up, my mother told me often that “everything in moderation” was good for me.
Perhaps she could already see my extremities even then. As a Libra (represented by scales), I am perpetually amused that my life is not balanced at all.
Today I ate 2lbs of mini cucumbers for breakfast. I was so hungry that it felt like I would die from it. I woke up full of bile and acid. I binged and purged my way through uncountable amounts of food last night. Never full enough to be satisfied; never empty enough to be loveable. To look at me you would never know. My fat rolls negate any signs of illness; the cellulite and stretch marks blind everyone to how sick I really am.
I left ballet untouched by my overdose of vegetables and raced wildly for dinner. Obsessed, demented, focused: all I could think about was tofu and rice. It is all I want to eat at any given time. It is on my safe list. Sometimes I can almost justify it.
I start eating and cannot stop. I register that I am full and continue to shovel anything-drowned-in-soy-sauce and acceptance down my raw, sore throat. When I am done, the panic sets in immediately. What have I done? What was I thinking when I imagined not throwing this back up? I pay and run from the restaurant like I am fleeing the hordes of hell. My demons keep pace. I have about half an hour before I am meant to meet my boyfriend at home. I drive with purpose – agitated – run inside and start purging the calories that are sloshing around my insides. The relief is instantaneous. I have minutes to spare before my boyfriend is home. I wipe my face, fix my makeup.
I find a bottle of wine and settle outside on a beautiful, end of summer evening. No one will ever know. Too empty, too full…all I know is it is not enough. I am not enough.
“I’m afraid that by admitting that I have struggled with an eating disorder, you’ll find me disgusting and unlovable.”
The most beautiful article I have read in a long time: