Tag Archive | restricting

Never In My Life Thought I Would

**eating disorder trigger warning**

Well. We all have those things that we would never ever do. Like maybe never ever eat escargot because it is a snail. Or go skydiving. Whatever your jam us.

Mine is I will never purge via any method except exercise.

I know the medical ramifications of laxatives. And I hate the intestinal cramps and diarrhea. Same with vomiting. I also hate hate hate throwing up. Flu season and I yuck.

Well. So I thought.

Maybe it was the combination of factors. Maybe Ed’s voice is so loud that I can’t distinguish anymore. Maybe stress has gotten to me.

Between starting my new job [which is awesome and super easy and chill], the 24/7 medical care of PC after his surgery a few weeks ago [that has beyond gotten to me], and today’s family drama related to wedding prep added to I am tired…I guess I cracked.

I took my wedding dress in for alterations earlier this week. I was scared to death. Like extremely fearful. I was convinced it would not fit because I was too fat.

I put it on…and it was loose!! I lost weight!! I was utterly shocked!! It goes to show you that my anorexia recovery of actually eating helps me to lose weight. I mean I lost so much weight the dress was a size too big I was startled.

But then she fit it tight on me. And there is Ed popping up telling me to freak out because in a few months I will not fit into it! And Edie is like girl just keep eating and we will lose soooo much weight!

Today I come home from work and I have a ton of To Dos on my list it’s overwhelming. But I always manage to get it done. Not too worried I guess.

PC and I had a fight because well his family is rude and presumptuous. And they yelled at him and he tried to roll over. Uh no.

I ate. Food. It’s probably a normal portion to people. But to me and my stomach it was maaaaassive! It was technically the largest meal I’ve had in a few weeks.

I tried all my CBT and DBT skills. But the stomach pains were too severe. I was nauseated and my heart was besting extremely fast.

There I found myself. Over my bathroom sink.

You can do it, Cassie. A finger down the throat. You know where to go anatomically. You get the urge all the time…that feeling. Maybe PC will hear you and realize you really are not OK. That your eating disorder is bad. But after you evacuate like 20oz [the milkshake and something else].

The milkshake will make it smooth. It won’t burn. You won’t feel it. The acid is neutralized.

All Ed. This was all Ed’s voice I realize now.

I sat there for a few minutes looking down at my porcelain sink while my multicolored night light flashed between colors. Battling.

Then I did what I thought I would never ever do in my life. My right index finger made contact with my throat.

What’s disturbing, to me, is the relief it did bring. It didn’t hurt. Because you literally open the valve it all comes up and your chest muscles are not crunching like in the flu. It was disturbingly a smooth action. Granted I bit myself and the I know the signs are on my hand now.

It relelieved that awful pain I felt in my stomach.

This was not a calorie fear. Or a I’m going to be a fat fear. At least not that I could identify. I truly physically hurt in my stomach.

And that relief from evacuation!

I get it now.

Then after a few more times, I realized the not so pretty side effects. No one tells you that when this happens you pee yourself a little. Thanks for that heads up!!

It was so surreal. Pure derealization. Did not feel real at all. That’s why I had to blog right away. Because I would never believe it if someone told me I did it. I needed proof.

I think I’m still there. I’m watching myself because it’s not me who did it but me. Derealization.

OH fuck I think I just puked up my meds.

I didn’t see them….

Moral here is never say never ever.

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I’ve Lost Everything…So I Thought

Last night, or I should say very early this morning, I woke up to some chick screaming and cussing outside my window. Then the fire alarm in the apartment complex across from mine went off.

PC woke up and questioned the sound.

“OH probably some bitter university girl because I heard her scream profanity especially before it went off. She probably pulled it because she’s a brat.” -me

Yes. My complex is filled with entitled Millennials. They’ve done stupid shit before. This nice expensive area has recently gone down hill thanks to these entitled children. Their parents pay for them to have a 4 bedroom apartment to themselves. Must be nice! I’ve never had the option. Ever.

Aren’t able to follow the rules either.

Then the police show up. My curiosity gets me and I want to see the brat getting arrested. I stick my head through the blinds and see him yelling at everyone to get out of the building.

Wait. What? Why?

I look over and there is smoke billowing out of the building.

OH. This is real. That’s a legit fire. Not even 25 yards away. With trees in between our buildings it could leap and we would be next.

And yet with all that smoke, some people refused to evacuate. And others kept harassing the emergency workers.

Insert mind blown wtf faces here. I wanted to go down and backhand them. As a Healthcare provider who has dealt with traumatic situations, I have never EVER understood why people refuse to help when it is needed but love to make emergencies and traumas more difficult.

Please let the emergency crews do their jobs!!!

Get out of the way and stay back. They will come to you! And if they do–do as they ask!

Here of late I have felt that I have lost everything these last few months. And I mean everything. Like all I have is PC. No money. No real job. Nothing.

But in that moment. That moment where you see smoke billowing out and 10 firefighters running in–I realized how much I could lose:

  • All my pictures
  • All my picture books
  • My nice jewelry that I have worked hard on my own to buy
  • My nice purses, same thing, which I can replace, but still something to lose
  • My clothes
  • My brand new items from my bridal shower
  • My kitchenaid mixer
  • All my documents
  • All my books
  • All my therapy work
  • Everything for my wedding
  • And I had to think like I’ve done as a kid [I used to live in a high prone fire area growing up], what can you grab and where is it so you can evacuate immediately for your safety. The things that can’t be replaced but are needed.
  • That’s when I realized I did have things to lose.
  • Another reminder, I don’t want to die….I’m not ready to die.
  • Anorexia Isn’t Pretty: Long Term Effects

    People make it seem so glamorous. Eating disorders are so marvelous. You lose weight and get attention. That’s how it works right? That’s what the media shows.

    I am still that lifer. I still actively fight every. Damn. Day.

    But here is what they never tell you.

    Anorexia destroys your teeth.

    You always here about how bulimia destroys teeth. How the purging and that acid decays the teeth. No one mentions the anorexia.

    I’ll tell you. Settle in.

    Six years.

    That’s how long since I’ve been to the dentist. Because I was so agitated that they kept finding cavities. I stopped.

    Well that and because I had full blown lost it and was drowning in a massive anorexia battle in 2013.

    If I brush my teeth, that means I ate something. If I ate something, I will gain weight. I am fearful of fat. Therefore, I don’t eat and don’t have to brush my teeth.

    And since I’m not eating, I can’t get cavities so I don’t need to go to the dentist. [Ed’s voice: or she will see it and bust you]. Done.

    Six years pass. Time flies when you are anorexic.

    But guess what? I still have cavities. Why?

    Well my enamel is weak. Because of malnutrition. And because of malnutrition, my gums and teeth are not so hot. I’m on a medication for treatment that has a side effect of dry mouth [and it’s baaaad]. This leaves my mouth cracked and susceptible to infection and more decay.

    I have horrible reflux from all the time I starve and restrict. That acid goes somewhere folks!!! Yup bulimia may have more acknowledged vomiting destruction but GERD and reflux has it too.

    And the anxiety and stress from anorexia [as well as my toxic job] causes even more reflux and periods of vomiting sooo there’s that.

    Add in my lack of brushing thanks to the lovely Ed’s voice and here are my consequences.

    I was brutally honest with my dentist because I have been seeing her since I was a kid. I told her how I was in care for anorexia for the past 6 years and my string of toxic jobs.

    She was amazing and supportive. She was just as surprised as I was that my mouth and teeth didn’t sustain more damage. Only 6 cavities?! I mean that’s actually great!

    She’s creating a treatment plan for me. I’m coming back every other week for some more hygiene and the fillings. I hate it but maybe I can get back into good health again.

    No one talks about eating disorders and oral care. Or anxiety!

    I had severe anxiety while there but thanks to alllllll my therapy I was able to get there, stay there, and go through the 1.5 hour cleaning. Yesssss that long.

    I hate not being perfect. I hate not being in control.

    I hate even more that my teeth now hurt and I am on a liquid diet because the pain is bad. I hear Ed’s voice creeping in telling me to not eat. I remember the days where I didn’t eat for 2 days after the dentist because I loved that clean feeling.

    Battling this is so tiring. Fighting my own thoughts. People don’t get it. They don’t get the stress. How easy it is to slip back into not eating again. Into counting calories and restriction. Any excuse to segway back in.

    It’s scary. It’s frightening.

    For now I stick with my sea salt rinses and liquid diet praying I can overcome this. Not slip. I’m already slipping. It’s been a long long few months.

    And to think, anorexia is supposedly without any issues and is soooo wonderful! At least, that’s what the movies say.

    Too Much for One Title

    I have kept myself alive.

    This has been huge considering the events of the past few weeks.

    I have not sabotaged. I have not succumbed to Ed’s voice let alone what I feel like the universe keeps trying to tell me.

    I am struggling with the whole eating thing but I am doing some of it. There are days when I feel I have no purpose in life but I find purpose in the day.

    I always thought I was at the lowest point in a career. I thought that it could not get worse because I never thought people could behave any worse than what I experienced.

    My previous job was horrid. When I left it I thought, phew it could never be this bad anywhere else.

    Universe was like: challenge accepted!

    So the past few years, this lady, one who has never let anyone/anyplace/anything change who she is; changed by a department.

    It literally ate at my soul.

    Yes. They do exist.

    Outside of this blog world, I am a very happy and positive person. I never want people to experience anything I ever had nor do I think that people deserve my “wrath” unless they truly do something morally injust or ethically wrong to get it. This place is the inside of my head.

    My workplace? They thrived on trying to bring me down. For several years, I was bullied and harassed on a daily basis. Sometimes by staff who came and went, but always by these 2 people old enough to be my mothers. I always tried to understand what could drive someone to be so cruel; to do what they do. A psychopathic person has more rationale than these two. At least it’s in their head.

    They thrived on making my life miserable from stealing my things to actually deleting my work [in Healthcare that’s baaaaad] and falsifying claims saying I did not do it. Mainly because I made them look bad.

    I ignored it. But it got to a head.

    We got a new manager. Because yes our entire department in the few years I’ve been there has gone through several FULL staff turnovers and 6 managers. Say something?

    I stupidly stuck through it. I tried to leave multiple times but the patients begged me to stay. And there was something more complicated but my concern had me stay a bit longer at one point.

    Well this new manager decided they hated me for who knows what. They made no effort to actually know me. Considering I kept their department afloat, started two committees, and was head of several massive board projects you think I’d be one to know.

    They publicly threatened several times over my job.

    For several months I cried every day.

    Why was I not good enough? I work my ass off. I sacrifice myself. I follow all the rules. I am opening a new sub department for them.

    I. Am. A. Good. Person.

    But that doesn’t mean good things will happen to you. That is not reality.

    This manager threatened to terminate me on falsified information by one of the older ladies who bullied me. While this manager was part of the constant bullying and harassing, they kept making me look like a fool even to our patients whom in return despised this new manager.

    I quit.

    It was the hardest decision, by far, I have ever made in my life.

    I walked away.

    I left patients in harms way. But I, too, was being threatened and harmed.

    In trauma, we are taught to do what’s best for the greater good. If I can’t even take care of myself…how am I to take care of the greater good?!

    My constant self sacrifice was taken advantage of and abused to the max.

    No more.

    My family and friends begged me to quit. One cried on the phone with me to quit. And so I did.

    A week later, and more trauma from the event later, I realized why it’s been so hard.

    I have been in abusive relationships: dating, family, friends. I have also grown up in a world of invalidation. This job was just that. It was an extremely abusive relationship. Until I was out, I could not see it. I tried to leave but it did not work. The cold cut quit is what did it.

    Given my history of PTSD, this has been a rough few weeks. A TON of nightmares and terrors. I am barely sleeping.

    The trauma exposure only recently ended 3 days ago…. And frankly it’s probably not over yet. I couldn’t even get a clean fucking cut.

    But I am still alive. I am keeping myself alive. Fuck am I a survivor.

    It would be nice to have some control over my life at some point in time, for once. I’m tired of having to be hopeless and let whatever happen to me happen.

    For now, baby steps.

    For One Night…

    … 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?

    Let’s Call It A Comeback

    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 digress.

    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!!