… Let’s pretend to be normal.
Anything but what we are.
… Let’s pretend to be normal.
Anything but what we are.
OK life keeps happening and faster than I can turn out past posts to update.
Quick back story: please note this is not how I wanted to tell yall.
I am engaged.
Yes you read that right. Cassie is fucking engaged. For real life. MTV TRUE LIFE: I Am an Anorexic Who is Engaged.
Very mindfucking surreal. Derealization big time.
Anyways. The one thing of two I have dread the most about this whole wedding process is Ed’s voice and the combat that would ensue.
And when would it come up?
Two times to be exact: 1) wedding dress shopping and 2) walking down the aisle.
I do not….not want all eyes on me. People judging me. The dress makes me look fatter. Oh you see her juggling arms? She looks like a whore because I can see cleavage. Omg double chin?!
Honestly going naked sounds so much more appealing than the whole dress trying on.
My hand was forced and before I knew it there I was on 2.5mg of a benzodiazepam totally experiencing derealization.
Everyone else cries and is ecstatic and is pumped for this day. I’ve put it off for months. I cried going in. There is no “real dress moment” for me because none will make me feel pretty enough to be a bride. Ed and Edie are already on that.
I feel so unworthy. I watch as a skinny ass butch near me tries on the exact same dress I had on and of course she looks good. She has no books or hips. It fits perfect. She’s just having a joyous occasion. I’m trying to not cry.
Bridal gown shopping is not meant for girls/women with body image disorders. Period. And this needs to be fixed Stat.
I left exhausted and hating myself. I can’t deal with the world.
Of course I’m pmsing at the same time.
Fuck being a bride. Can I go toga?
While I’ve been crafting my multiple tales behind the scenes to release unto you [ooo so fancy sounding] life clearly keeps happening. Anorexia and anxiety don’t just disappear. Those who are cured I am disgustingly envious of.
Again, I am a lifer.
I may have learned to cope with it and how to “interact” with anorexia and anxiety, but I will never be cured. Alas, my only cure is death. And while I have begged for it at times and needed it as well, I could never do it.
I have been struggling a lot lately with stress and eating. I’m doing decently in the sense I’m eating at least one meal a day. This is major for me. It’s not like I’m actively trying to avoid it; I have no hunger instinct so I can go a whole day without even noticing I have not consumed anything. It’s bad.
My job is unnecessarily stressful. A post to come. But I also have a new stress trigger that is really driving Ed’s voice into overdrive. It will come out in another post, but let’s just say there is an extreme amount of pressure on how I will look and eyes will be on me.
OH heyyy Ed! Edie, you’re here, too?! Omg it’s a party!!
Let’s throw in all that PTSD training trying to counteract all that. Mmmm joy.
A few months ago I was cleared to return to the gym. After 2 years of physical injury. And 1.5 years before that of restriction for therapy.
Just a reminder, I have hypergymnasia: I have spent excessive amounts of time at the gym in an attempt to lose weight. It was my purge. And when I go to the gym, I lose myself and all sense of time. It’s a total mindfuck to be honest.
The last time I was in a gym, ugh I was so unhealthy!!! I had just broken my ankle and shoulder. And I was at the gym running on the treadmill while in pain. That was 2 years ago OH SHIT TO THIS WEEK!!!
Well, I made plans with one of my besties to return to the gym. Part of my recovery contingencies [for life] is I’m not allowed to workout alone. We were supposed to go last week and again Monday.
I got so anxious I panicked and canceled.
Between the stress of work and this pressure to be thin, I did the healthy thing and did not go.
I know if I went, I would be starting under the wrong intentions and it would be downhill from there. My bestie knows everything that’s going on and has been so supportive.
So today we went. And I was so anxious. And scared.
I was worried I was too fat in the gym outfit I had. I was honestly fearful of the judgment by people at the gym. I was scared I would lose control. I was afraid I would spiral; that Ed would slide into control.
What I was most fearful of? My injuries being so bad that they would incapacitate me from doing the exercises I know and love. And I would have lost my identity.
Good news: the broken shoulder has healed enough through physical therapy that I was able to do the exercises I have done in the past!! I actually cried at the gym. The ankle has as well.
Bad news: I can’t turn off the hypergymnasia. My beastie turned to me and was like we have been here an hour time to go. I honestly thought it had been 10 minutes.
Absolutely no concept of time. It’s scary. I could end up hurting myself again. Breaking something. Or, as Eddie points out, getting fatter because I am working out too much without enough caloric intake.
I gain weight when I stop eating. I am am atypical anorexic due to years of anorexia and no formal treatment till my late twenties.
I feel disgusted by myself for feeling pleasure in the muscle burn and stamina I have. It’s not because I’m healthier than I thought but for the idea I can keep pushing myself harder.
But dammit, this is a massive comeback!! Literally years in the making.
Cassie is back at the gym. My happy place. Under supervision of a bestie. Without therapy support. Trying to do this the right way.
Here’s a big challenge!!
This is my return.
I’m overwhelmed with what to say. Like where to start.
There has been so many changes in my life over the past 7 months. I wanted to write as they happened. It helps me process and feel. Experience the moment as they say in DBT.
Thanks to fear and trying to protect my anonymity, I had to give time in-between some significant events so that I cannot be identified.
I have followed of you and am so proud of you. Your accomplishments and strides you are making. These struggles are so. Real.
I guess the first biggest struggle, which will be my first focus, is I completed, and graduated from the Trauma Therapy.
As in I had no choice they basically told me, in one month we are cutting you free because that’s the end goal. After 4 years of intensive therapy. To nothing.
Oooo plot twist?!
Well it’s just how it feels.
And will keep feeling as long as I’m in my invalidating and toxic work environment.
Funny how I flit from one toxicity to the next.
I tried to leave for the better to only end up worse. Ya, it was possible. At least here I’m not throwing up and crying before shifts. Maybe because I’m so numb?
Well, needless to say, by chance of miracles or what, I landed an interview recently.
I feel like it was due in part to a favor to my mother but I’m grateful nonetheless! For it was an interview in a position I’m trained for.
I nailed the phone interview. Felt rock solid. And I usually rock interviews. Never have had an issue.
I always get the offer in the end….it’s just the whole wait for a contract that was promised and it never come.
Well, the timing of this couldn’t be better. Everything is spiraling at work and no amount of DBT skills can salvage.
Yet when I had the interview, face to face, I just feel like I failed. Like I was throwing fails around by fistfuls out of my pockets.
My answers were not as solid as I usually have them. I couldn’t focus it.
I couldn’t sell myself.
“Your resume is very impressive, seriously, but I see here you were licensed in xx so how come you have not held a job [using said license]”
OK too complex to get into it on here without giving away a lot of identifiers… But just know this… No it is not me. Basically society fucking sucks and so does the economy. My resume would make you vomit because it’s so impressive.
But I sacrificed everything and couldn’t get the job because I wclearly as the wrong place wrong time. And in some cases, had some employers tell me I was too fat [while they had 100lbs on me] yes it’s illegal but California gets away with a looooot of shit mang.
I also had to keep working to pay, you know, bills? I have never had anyone to take care of me like that. But California apparently expected that. It’s ridiculous. It’s ludicrous.
Thus my job intimidated others because they thought I’d be bored….
Why doesn’t anyone ask me?!
Wellllll here I sit. I had to delicately and politely answer the question. With couth. Head held high as I was yet again reminded of allll the times I was never good enough.
I walked out just knowing that when I needed something the most, again, I failed. I can’t have it.
And all because someone does not believe in me.
Stay tuned I have not been officially rejected it’s just how I’m feeling. Don’t want to get my hopes up because I would be beyond devastated to lose it again.
I did online dating. And this really does exist. Men are entitled. They think they deserve to have this skinny perfectly shaped Barbie. While they themselves are beyond flawed.
At least that is how it persists in the area I live in. It sucks to be a woman.
But that is besides the point.
How, as someone with an eating disorder, as someone who is trying and fighting every damn day to love themselves, are you supposed to take this?
I know I am not the only woman out there who has dealt with this.
Please share your stories so I can empower you.
Because I have horror stories, too.
Some caused relapse. Some caused sex binges because they were triggering.