Tag Archive | self harm

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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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.

Where to Start?!

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?!

Therapy Update

Well so much for getting back to me by the end of the day. Two days later I heard from my therapist. Bitch basically doesn’t want to work with me. She’s turfing me off.

She did not even save my therapy spot. After all we went through with my work to secure a slot. And I’m part of an ongoing study about some bullshit immersion treatment for long term anorexia. I mean 3 years of therapy come the fuck on now!!

She’s made zero effort.

She’s “proposed me to the team to figure out what my next steps in care should be.”

Did I mention it’ll be at least another month before anyone could possibly see me?!

And her comment?!

I wish I could show you the screenshot but it would give too much away.

Why didn’t I seek lower cost care while the insurance was being figured out.

Yes she was fucking serious. Making me look non compliant and like I didn’t really want help.  

She failed to mention in my legally documented note that her visits are FREE UNDER MY INSURANCE THROUGH OUR INSTITUTION  and there end fucked me up. I can’t see anyone else because they are out of network so  no they are not lower cost, nothing is when I am supposed to have free.

So I lost it. Fucking again.

Thankfully that day I saw my primary. That ended with a suicide screen and a reminder that no I don’t actually have to hurt myself to get care even though that is what I am planning I can just walk into the ER and tell them I am having thoughts and they have to give me care.

I still doubt that since I can’t get it outpatient in critical need.

And of course the whole body swelling and bloating weight gain from starving makes me just look fat and overnurished. So no one takes me seriously again.

This is exactly why eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of all psychiatric disorders.

Pissed Off

With myself. With my doctor.

I have come to realize that I have been having an allergic reaction [and a severe one] to a topical medication prescribed for my painful parts post fall. This has included first migraine, flu like syndrome, photophobia [goes with the migraine], severe redness in one eye, severe eye pain in same eye, throat swelling, hoarseness, chest tightness, shortness of breath.

When I reported this to my doctor, as well as the fact that I had to hit my emergency drug –Benadryl– last night, they just brushed me off. I told them it scared me and I could t go to work because I was so drowsy from the Benadryl. 

And yet they tell me they think it’s just a respiratory virus?

No. Whenever your patient tells you something is wrong, it is.

I know my arm is a hairline fracture on my humerus. I also fractured my ankle. But they keep brushing it off. So I just keep it to myself. Suffer alone.

I tell them I had severe adverse effects of a medication that states I need to report immediately and they say it’s nothing? I know my body. Too well. Fuck. 

I’m already so angry with my body right now I want to self harm it. I’ve been nothing but hurt and sick for several months and I cannot deal anymore. I want to fight it back. It’s its own entity–me vs my body. 

I’m physically exhausted. I’m relapsing into not eating bc I’m so tired. 

I am asking for help. Me. Cassie. Asking for help.

Just to be basically told I’m being dramatic or a hypochondriac. 

This is why I don’t ask for help. This is why I don’t seek medical attention. What good does it do?