Tag Archive | toxic

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!!


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?!

A Pocket Full of Fails

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.

Especially when:

“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.

Not Pretty: Moving

Not really sure how I feel.

Glad PC saw how my dad was a total asshole.

Sad that PC saw it.

Embarrassed that PC saw me weak.

Saw how my father and parents have refused to help me at all with my move process and then outright refuse to come with me the day of my move.

I don’t understand why I’m not good enough. I can’t figure it out at all. Like wtf goes through their heads as parents?

They said they would pay for my moving truck.


Both times my delinquent sister moved, my parents: paid, emotionally helped, and physically helped. They were all over it. They bought her things for the move; for her new place.

Same as my other sister. Paid for her stuff too.

But me? The oldest who strives for everything and perfection and has pretty much damn achieved it compared to her siblings?!


No offers to do laundry. No help packing boxes. Not even interested in seeing the new place.

My mother faked sick and stayed home one day to watch. Nothing else. Stresses me out more.

The negative commentary and critiquing.

I cried in front of PC. I lost it. I cracked.

I need out.

I can’t be in this toxic environment anymore. Where I’m told I look fat or pregnant. Where I’m yelled at and belittled. Where I have to cower and am a victim so that I don’t start shit or step on toes. Not buying food because my mother says it’s a waste of my money I need to save it. Too old for that shit.

So I’m lying here, in my bare bones childhood bedroom, and I don’t know how I feel. All my safety items are packed. So glad to leave these toxic people behind. So scared of the unknown. Where all the food places are. Where all my safe places are. All the backstreets.

So ready to start over; start my life. It’s like college all over again. Except this time I’m not letting the guilt of this toxic family bring me back to save them. They’ve ruined and destroyed enough of my life. They don’t support me. Positive vibes only.

Probably why I’m feeling so anxious right now even with the Ativan on board.

Tomorrow’s  the day. Tomorrow is officially the start to my real recovery. I’ve lost one of my major excuses.

Lying here looking at all the old memories, I’m ready to let go but so sad for it to go. A lot of comfort in the past because we know what happened. But living in the past is Depression.

I just want to be loved. For who I am and what I offer.

It’s That Time–Attempting a Comeback [Pictures]

Here is the scrubs drawer. With the last pair of scrub butts [that’s what I call them but they are scrub bottoms] in it before I pull them out.

And here is the drawer: all happy, positive, radiant, vibing good energy!! On the left side are my gym/dance tops and the right side my running tops. This just makes me so damn happy you have NO idea.

I feel like an Old Navy spokesperson and advertisement because uh yeah all my tops are Old Navy active… And so are my gym shorts and running shorts and pants. I love their active line! Cute, comfy, supportive, durable, and most importantly affordable!! And it comes in plus sizes up to 3x maybe even 4x. Yes ladies that is real life.




No, I was not endorsed or given anything by Old Navy to say what I just said, but I would gladly accept something considering how much I buy from them 😀


So there is my comeback. And yes please call it that! I love to be filling my life back up with the things that I love and seeing my Old Navy Active workout clothes gives me my happy vibes and excitement of times to come!

I feel my PLUR! 💖

It’s That Time–Attempting a Comeback [Explanation]

Guess what my amazing and loyal readers?!?! I am attempting a comeback to my photo challenge!! I hate that I had to stop.

For those of you just tuning in, I have been dealing with workplace violence–harassment and bullying from my boss[es], peers, coworkers, well all levels. I just took it because I needed the money and health insurance.

In a nutshell: I finally saw freedom–was/am making a lateral move to another department which impacts my ego but it is out of the toxic environment I am in [so bad that about 20 people have left in the past year….yuuuup] –my boss who is resigning still had to make his mark and refused my two weeks notice–then stated that he would be renegotiating my transfer date–I saw my freedom slip away–I lost it–I nearly self harmed–PC my amazing boyfriend in addition to my amazing therapy team kept me safe and out of the hospital for the weekend–my therapy team and Doctor pulled me off work for the weekend–I was so stressed which why I wanted to self harm but I had not slept in a week–I was so anxious and overwhelmed [no not depressed] I could not shower or do anything but panic and cry– I got prescription for Ambien–I spent last weekend with PC–I have been slowly getting sleep back–which in turn is decreasing my anxiety–which in turn is helping me manage my anorexia and keep me from involuntarily stress vomit–and I still have no idea when I am transferring and I work tomorrow.

Ya that was a lot. So anyways with the Ambien and a day of just sleeping all. Day. I have finally started to calm done, cope, and gain energy.

Which meant slowly returning to normalcy.

I am binge shopping though which is not good.

Like bargain shopping on designer purses. Ugh. The Jew in me cannot resist a good deal!! Dammit!!!

I have however been cleaning.  

A lot.

I had to make room for my new work clothes.

I have worn gym clothes, jeans, and scrubs for 8 years. Actually much longer. This is the first time in my life that I have to wear business casual. So I needed to make room for that.  

At the same time, I wanted to make a drawer for my running clothes, gym clothes, and dance clothes. All require different clothes. Especially when you are fat.

I ended up getting rid of some gym shorts to make room for ones that made me feel confident.

I also decided to have my two drawers be bottoms and tops: gym on the left, running on the right. I already have my dance drawer so I tidied that up.

What does this all mean?

After years of having a scrubs drawer filled with awkward underwear dedicated for scrubs and sports bras because you get to be comfy in scrubs, I am ending this chapter of my life.

This is huge.

This job was my favorite place to be. I used to countdown going to work. I still love my patients and some of my doctors. And I will miss the trauma excitement–ohhh that rush!

But I will not miss what it has become in the past 4 years. The toxicity. Friends turning on friends. Isolation. People spreading false rumors and gossip. Throwing you under the bus to protect themselves. The lies and manipulation. The laziness. My positivity being a negative thing.

No one should leave each shift and cry.

No one should constantly fear for the safety of their patients.

I’ve lost my fight. I’ve lost my energy. This job literally killed me.

So I was ecstatic to clean out that scrubs drawer and put in my gym and running tops! I felt the biggest weight lift. I feel like a bitch because I am so happy and want to brag that I am putting in my new positive life in that drawer instead. My 5k training and *hopefully* healthy gym exercising.

Total catharsis.

Now for the pictures. See the next post. :]

Thanks for baring with me through the past few weeks. It has been rough is truly an understatement.

xOxOx Cassïe

Cheese Factor: Nacho

Okay this is super cheesy, but I am really ecstatic to say I have 100 followers!!

Thank you to all of you who find what I write and post interesting enough to subscribe!

And a bigger thanks to those of you who interact with comments, likes, and reblogs!! ❤

You have no idea how much all of this means to me!!

Literally, it has been a huge goal of mine for the past 2 years! Thanks for making this happen!

I set out to blog to share my voice on eating disorders so people could hear the struggle.

I still aim to do that and I hope that it has proven educational, helpful, and a close human element. That human face to the silent and lonely struggle that kills.

I am an open book.

I do not EVER promote proana or promia material.

I do apologize if my struggles have ever been triggering to anyone. But this is me: Cassie.

This is Cassie and Ed’s voice.

As I continue to blog, I hope to add a few things to my experiences with anorexia.

I will stick with my weekly list challenge and try to keep up with my daily photo challenge. I still encourage others to join!! I would like to incorporate in some research that is healthcare based as well as topics as suggested by you, my readers.

Anything y’all want to hear? Please comment! Or shoot me an email or kik.

I still want to promote community and am here as myself; flaws and all.

Contact me:

•Email: soundofedsvoice@gmail.com

•Kik: CassiexEdsxVoice

To another 100 followers, whenever it might happen! I am grateful for all of you! love you ❤

in it together