I never meant to not write for seven months. Seven months…it sounds so much longer than it has been. I had so much to say, too much really, and in the end I couldn’t find the words so I stayed silent. It is hard to chronicle a pregnancy with an eating disorder. I wanted to, but I will have to write about it in hindsight instead.
My daughter is here. We are both well. That is all I wanted to say for now.
My twenty year old brother held his best friend as he died today after a motorbike accident. Three of them had gone trail riding and his friend Ray, was ahead of them when someone turned in front of him. He died at the scene from his injuries, my baby brother talking to him and holding him.
Suddenly life is put into stark perspective.
Living so far from home, from my family, my worst fear is getting a call that there has been an accident or death.
Today I thanked God that it wasn’t my little brother all the while remembering that Ray was someone’s brother, son, boyfriend, grandchild…
I wept for my brother who is too young to have buried so many friends already. I wept for his suffering, that I couldn’t take the pain from him. Twenty year olds should not have to watch their friends die.
I am eating as I write this for those of you who will enjoy the irony.
I was reminded today (by a stranger’s comment) that my blog makes me sounds like a spoiled, ungrateful brat. I think if you read my blog closely enough, I mention numerous time what a horrible human being I am. It is as if this comment was supposed to be a revelation for me. The one thing I have always been on this blog is honest. I have told my life story as it is, my feelings as they are. I have painted a picture of who I am even when that picture is gross and disgusting and repulsive and abhorrent. I have not tried to pretend to be a better person when I know I am not. I have not sugar-coated, or glamourized or pretended something other than my reality. I have often been brutally honest about what I am going through, especially my relationship with my boyfriend, and the impact on my ED.
I am that person. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me. If someone doesn’t like what I have to write or say, they are free not to read my blog. There is nothing on here that I have not already discussed with my boyfriend at length. Obviously, my opinion is from my biased point of view. It always will be. I am me. I am free to be so. If you don’t like me, guess what?…I have never liked me. Your approval is not necessary. Your disapproval is not a surprise.
We were supposed to leave tonight for the long weekend. I had us booked into a log cabin in a more remote part of the mountains, far enough away to be secluded. It is perfect weather to be snuggled up in a wood chalet with a fire and a bottle of wine. I had longed for it, imagined it, anticipated it and planned it – down to the menu for the weekend. I had even fantasized that my boyfriend would take advantage of our first romantic getaway, and our last time together before I leave for 5 weeks, to propose to me.
Instead, my boyfriend is out drinking somewhere and I am home in my pajamas: bingeing, drinking, barfing and bathing. The bitter disappointment was too hard to swallow
I went to emergency on Tuesday…shocking, right? I have lost count of how many visits I have made this year. You would think I would start to do the maths on how much my ED is affecting my health and quality of life, but I am not smart if you remember correctly.
After the stress of last week’s fight with my boyfriend, I starved and binged and purged and drank. On Sunday I didn’t eat all day until the evening when I ate half a cauliflower (read a blog post about Cauliflower here – https://thefatballerinablogs.wordpress.com/2014/09/23/3097/ ) and cheesecake (from the boyfriend and kids for Mother’s Day). On Sunday night I started having sudden, stabbing pain in my lower, right abdomen. I ignored it and blamed it on my ED thinking it would go away after a while.
By Monday the pain was worse and spreading to my back. On top of that I had nausea, diarrhea, chills and dizziness. I went to work and was non-functioning. I couldn’t eat and was in and out of the bathroom all day. By the time I had to teach ballet, I could barely stand up. After one class, I called my boyfriend to pick me up and take me home. I spent the rest of Monday in bed in excuciating pain. At this point I just figured I had a stomach bug.
On Tuesday all the symptoms had gone except for the pain. When I stood up I was doubled over. By this time my boyfriend had read the entire internet and had come with all sorts of horrible diagnoses: miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy (he always thinks I am pregnant), gall bladder…the list went on. I had my appendix out 12 years ago, so that ruled out at least one thing. He dropped me off at emergency on his way to work and I spent the next 5 hours there.
My blood pressure was very low, my heart rate was very high. I was so dehydrated. The doctor ran tests: ultrasound, urine, blood. He was not convinced it was a stomach bug and was particularly concerned about my kidneys, given my recent history of recurring kidney infections. Everything came back negative (including the pregnancy test). I had told the doctor about my eating disorder when he asked for my medical history.
“Is that under control now?” he asked.
“No,” I explained why I had attributed that pain to my ED after the nightmare week I had. He noted it down, briefly and never referenced it again.
After pumping me full of pain meds and saline, he had no answer for what was wrong with me so he sent me home. The pain eventually ebbed after 2 days and I still don’t know what caused it. I was blown away by how unconcerned he was about my ED. When I saw my doctor at the ED treatment centre yesterday, she asked about my emergency visit. I rehashed all the details and told her it was inconclusive, that the doctor couldn’t figure it out.
She grunted, “really?” as she raised one eyebrow behind her glasses as she looked at me. She spared any further comments.
Fat Ballerina 