Posts tagged eating disorder

I’m really trying here not to shoot off on some drunken tirade about what a shit night and shit morning I’ve had and how shit shit shitty I’ve been feeling for the past few days. Oops, there I go. Let me just compose myself for a second…

OK. I’m OK now. Back to our regular programming. I’m not drunk really. However, I woke up this morning tipsy, but that’s subsided and now I’m hungover. I’m lightheaded, dehydrated, bloated, out of breath, weak-kneed and whatever else you can associate with the morning after a night of drinking and staying up late. I was out with honey B last night. I’ve probably mentioned her somewhere in my tumblr. She’s my best friend, my partner in crime. We’re Thelma and Louise or Bonnie and Clyde (minus the male addendum and romance, of course) Anyway, I brought a bottle of wine to her place; half of which we finished in her flat and the other half we finished while driving around the city going from place to place. B and I went to two places last night, but most of the fun we had was goofing in the car drinking wine out of the bottle. (Yeah, we’re classy like that. Urgh.) Remind me to thank God for drivers. Er, they’re both a blessing and a curse. You don’t have to worry about drinking and driving, but you do have to worry about letting yourself go and drinking too much because hey, you have a designated driver so yeeeah let’s get sloooshed right? Wrong.

Anyway as you can see I’m not in the right state of mind to type out some melodious and lyrical post that’s easy on the eyes; you know, my usual inspirational recovery posts and whatnot. However, we’ll see how this post progresses but for the time being, I’m free-hand typing. I’m not feeling too good. My mood has dipped significantly over the past few days, even if I’m taking my medication everyday. I feel the change in me. I feel weighed down. Pardon the pun. Why? For a number of reasons. Well I’ve gained weight. 5 pounds to be exact. Trigger. I haven’t really been taking care of myself these days. I haven’t been going to the gym like I used to, for lack of time, opportunity or energy. I’ve been going out too often, drinking too much, smoking more. I don’t get enough sleep either because I go out late at night and come home early morning. I don’t even eat regularly anymore. Sometimes I go the entire day without eating, surviving on water, caffeinated beverages and cigarettes, and then eat at dinner. Trigger. I suppose by now you’ve gathered that this makes for a messy cocktail (Really, urgetopurge, more puns? Really?) Not going to the gym puts me on edge. Trigger. Going out late at night and drinking makes me peckish in the wee hours of the morning, and I’ve developed this sort of need to binge and purge when I get home. Sometimes I manage to purge, oftentimes I pass out from exhaustion. That doesn’t do well, does it? That happened last night actually. Got home, binged, passed out from exhaustion, woke up bloated, had an episode. Trigger, trigger, trigger. Funny word, by the way. Trigger. Sorry, not making sense. It’s all triggering my old habits of needing to starve myself. Hence the not eating and surviving on water, caffeine and cigarettes. Buuut we all know that doesn’t work.

God this post isn’t working out for me. I’m all a mess right now. I’m going to pop out for a bit, but I’ll be back (hopefully with something more insightful for you all). I’m meeting S in GH. He says we’re going to talk. Sounds serious, I know. Catch you later, lovelies. I hope your days are filled with love, laughter and happiness.

(This will be post-dated, but I actually wrote this on the morning of March 30th, Thursday.)

Good morning, er, day. I slept in a bit after a night out w N and her mates. I joined them at S’s place after their meeting for the March 10 event. It wasn’t the typical bright lights, loud music, gyrating bodies type of wild night. S’s place is closed on Wednesdays so there was nothing going on. It was a relaxed, subdued, after hours sort of thing - just a small group of friends goofing around, pilfering the bar, and ordering take-out from a neighborhood eatery. That’s exactly the kind of night I look forward too these days. While I do enjoy the occasional party night out, I can safely say that I am well done and over those days. Even if I’m 22, I think I’ve fully exhausted myself in terms of partying. Well, for now, at least. Last night consisted mostly of me drinking and talking to S, while N and her boy talked things out.

Anyway, I had an episode last night. I meant to post something too, but I was just too tired. It started off with, “I’m sitting in the attic, smoking the same old cigarettes, nursing the same old headache, hammering heartbeat, swollen face and shaking hands…” Dramatic, I know. You’d think that after being at it for so long I’d have gotten used to it by now, but it’s more than a blessing to me that I haven’t. I rue the day that I get used to headaches, hammering heartbeats, swollen cheeks and shaking hands because in my heart and in my head it’d mean that I gave up. My last episode was 3 days ago; between the last session with my doctor and the one today, I’d have had 2 episodes. To be honest, my average per week has increased; it used to be an episode weekly, but now it’s two. Naturally I can’t exactly be thrilled that my episodes have increased in frequency, and some of you might wonder if there’s anything to be thrilled about at all, but I am proud of the way I handle the post-purge.

A few months ago, I might not have handled the situation very well. I’d be sitting in the dark, listening to my sad music whilst cursing the world and myself for the misfortune that it had brought me. My world would’ve have been plunged in darkness and I’d be spiralling downwards towards the abyssmal recesses of  mind, contemplating death, and suicide. (Speaking of death and suicide, I’ll be coming up with a post on that as soon as I learn to make it private. Someone close to me has read through my entire tumblr and I can’t risk that person reading just about everything about me.) I’d wake up heavy hearted and wishing that I’d never woken up. Some days I’d spend all day in my room, foregoing showers, food and social interaction, because I couldn’t handle the world that day. I used to dwell so much on my episodes that it’d take me days to recover. However, luckily to say that after a certain incident, those dark days are behind me. I’ve learned to look toward the light and move forward. These days, after an episode, I simply accept that it has happened and move on. It sounds easy said than done, and on some days nigh impossible, but it IS possible. While some people are overnight wonders, it took a while for me to get the hang of going with the motions and recovering quickly from a post-purge. I suppose I have Buddhism to thank for that, and maybe another therapeutic tattoo, but those things aside, it was really about putting things into perspective and seeing the bigger picture. there is a lot more good than bad in this world. Just because I had an episode doesn’t mean Earth and it’s 8 billion inhabitants are loathsome, evil things. Despite the bad and the ugly, there’s always something to be grateful and appreciative of. There are still pockets of beauty and goodness. Acts of compassion and kindess still exist; it just takes an open mind, open heart and a discerning eye to see. 

I’m back! After so many months of not going on tumblr, I’ve finally decided to fully commit to writing on tumblr again. Urge to Purge helped me through a lot of difficult times in my life, and it’s a shame I ever stopped. It was my therapy away from therapy. On the days I couldn’t vocalize, or didn’t feel like vocalizing my thoughts, feelings or concerns, I’d write it all out. It saved me from a lot of episodes too. I do keep a journal handy except these days I haven’t been writing much either. My posts might not be as good as the ones before but I’m not here to win any awards (although I probably should start using this as practice since I’m joining a writing competition in April!).

Anyway, how’s everyone doing? Hopefully you’re all faring well. Hello to new followers and good-bye to the ones who might have un-followed me due to my absence. I hope they’re all in good health (and that they follow me again once word gets out that I’m back in business, teehee). If you’re wondering how I’m doing, well, I’m doing quite well. I’ve matured a lot since the last time I was here - mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I’ve learned let go of former mentalities, like thinness defines who I am, and my tight grip on perfection. I’ve learned to relax and let the currents and tides of life just carry me through. I have a better grasp on who I am, and I’m not letting anyone take that away from me. I’m focusing more on the important things in life, like nurturing the self, family, friends and relationships, and less on the menial things, like other people’s opinions of me, people who don’t matter, or the way I look. Things are actually looking up for me. 

My bulimia is still there, but it’s taken a backseat. My episodes are down to once a week, but then again sometimes two. The most I’ve had in a long time is 8 times in a week. The greatest thing I’ve learned since I’ve been away is that things just happen. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s a bad thing; life will always hand out curve balls, surprises and presents. We can’t control everything that happens to us, but what we can control is how we react to the situation and what we do about it afterwards.

Love and light for you all.

Another episode today. I feel so exhausted. My face is swollen, my heart is pounding and my hands are shaking - the usual symptoms of a post-binge purge session. I was so tired the whole day because I went out last night. I only had several hours of sleep. Maybe 3 or 4. I can’t go without an average of 7.5 hours. I took a nap around 3 and woke up at 4. I had this urge to eat and I stormed the kitchen. I even raided our helper’s ref and pantry. I found cake and chocolate candy bars, saltine crackers and caramel sauce. Peanut butter, too. Where the hell did that come from? A secret stash of leftovers from weeks or months ago. We don’t buy that for the family. We stopped buying that years ago. I purged until my throat stung and burned with stomach acid. 

I was thinking too much about what I’d eaten, and if I should have eaten or should not have eaten. Too many thoughts bouncing around in my head preventing me from really connecting my self and my body.

Breathe.

Two days ago I signed up for a one week unlimited yoga sessions at a yoga studio nearby. I’d done yoga in the past, but I wasn’t sure if the modified yoga at the gym counted. I’d never done bikram yoga, either. Imagine constantly being in movement for an hour and a half in a room nearly as hot as your internal body temperature. Who knew you could sweat that much? I go to the gym regularly but my heart has never beaten that hard or that fast nor have my muscles have felt that stretched or worked.

What I love most about bikram yoga, or yoga in general, is the fact that I am actually learning to appreciate my body. I saw photos online of what people usually wore to bikram yoga (which was near underwear or bikini-like outfits) and I definitely wasn’t confident enough to wear that. I remember the first day I went. I wore running shorts and a fitted racerback. I was already feeling quite conscious of myself, and I was pretty covered up compared to the beer belly guy in the tight spandex shorts. I kept thinking my thunder thighs were jiggling, or that my fat rolls spilled over my shorts every time I bent over or sat down. Mirrors ran across the two walls, and I couldn’t stop staring at myself. However, when the session began, all my thoughts and insecurities quieted down. As I engaged my mind and body in the yoga, I wasn’t thinking anymore about the way my body looked. Instead, I focused on how my body felt and if I was doing the poses correctly. Although I still wobbled and sometimes fell over, I felt centered. Although I wasn’t as flexible as the yoga master in the corner of the room, I marveled in the way my body moved. At the end of the session, we finished in corpse pose. The yogi left the room, turned off the lights and invited us to stay for as long or as little as we liked to enjoy the last breaths of our yoga session. I opened my eyes feeling tired, but calm, collected and surprisingly refreshed.

Yesterday I went back for my second session. I mustered enough courage to wear a black sports bra and leggings. It wasn’t so much as showing off because really, I was still quite conscious of myself. It was just more practical considering how I soaked through my racerback the other evening. As we engaged in the yoga, I couldn’t help but feel extremely conscious of myself. There I was, sweating to the point of shriveling like a raisin, in a black sports bra - my stomach, arms, chest, hips, waist exposed for everyone to see. There is one instance where I learned quite a valuable lesson. Every now and then I’d steal a glance to my side, wondering if my back fat was exposed, or if my tummy stuck out. I realized that if even for a split second I allowed my focus to falter, it threw me off kilter and nearly crashing into the person next to me. I’d stand up, start the pose over and focus on staring intently into my front reflection. I could feel all my effort and energy was focused on making sure I was equally balanced in the stretch and pull of my dancer pose. I realize now that that instance is quite reflective of my life. If I worry so much about the way I look, it’ll throw me off kilter and crashing to the ground. Rather, I should focus all my efforts and energy on what feels good and what feels right for me. I’ll have a stronger core and stronger foundations. I’ll be centered, focused on recovery and ultimately at peace.

“Yoga From The Inside Out: Making Peace With Your Body Through Yoga” by Christina Sells

I am so ashamed of myself, I don’t even know where to begin. I had an episode just now. My head feels swollen and my face is throbbing. The stench of vomit still fills my nostrils and my voice is hoarse. My fingers still smell like the food I just binged and purged. I don’t know why I did it. There was nothing stressing me out, except maybe when I ate lunch and I felt so full I wanted to vomit. I had a salad and a pulled chicken sandwich on whole wheat bread. It wasn’t a lot of food by anyone’s standards; I just felt full for some reason. I wanted to vomit then and there but I didn’t since I was in the car and I kept thinking to myself, “No, I won’t. I can’t. Not after my tattoo. Not after everything. Not after all the fun I’ve had this past week.” But the urge never went away. Around 4PM, I binged and around 4:30PM, I purged.

There’s something about being so afraid of something happening that actually makes it happen. I think it’s that so-called self-fulfilled prophecy. You psych yourself out so much that you end up doing it. Maybe it was because I was bored. Maybe it was because I was looking at thinspo because I wanted to know what pro-ana tumblrs were like. Maybe it was because I was missing my friends and was so afraid of being alone. Well whatever it is, it happened and like what my psych says, there’s no use mulling over it, feeling bad and punishing yourself any more than you already have. What’s important is that you acknowledge that it happened, analyze why it happened and strengthen your being against future situations. It’s 5:15PM now. I have approximately 6 hours and 45 minutes to make the best out of the rest of my day.

I hope the rest of your day is filled with peace of mind, tranquility and inner calm.