This is the food I had in my cart today while waiting in line at the register when a commercial came on for binge eating disorder.
I have since binge and purged all of it, but the discomfort remains. The whole time it was playing, I could feel people’s eyes on me, wondering, judging, watching me squirm.
Unless you have an eating disorder. Then, that voice is probably wrong.
This morning, I waited about 4 hours for my parents to wake up so I could ask for a ride to the ER…again.
The emergency room I went to has you sign in via kiosk by scanning your ID and selecting why you’re there. They have about a dozen buttons for common ailments. Below that, they have an option to type in your own reason. I was very tempted to type “bulimia’s a bitch” as my reason, but instead just put “bulimia and laxative abuse”.
I was given a room pretty quickly (they know me well there) and was given fluids and poked for blood. My potassium was low. Big surprise. The re-hydrated me, gave me potassium pills and prescriptions to fill at my pharmacy, and sent me home.
When I got home, I was NOT doing well. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I was feeling very depressed and wanting to stop existing. I had some disturbing internal dialogue that made me realize I needed to get out of my room and do something. I still wasn’t feeling well, but I made myself get out of bed. I determined it would be better to get up and binge and purge than to self-harm in that state of mind.
I came out to the living room and ordered Chinese food I can’t actually afford. I spent money set aside for future bills. However, I feel like it was necessary.
I shouldn’t have to choose between paying my bills or cutting my own fingers off…
Tomorrow, I am supposed to hear more about the partial hospitalization program. Depending on how long they say I need to wait, I may go back to the hospital and demand to be admitted. I am afraid of my own thoughts.
This picture has nothing to do with the post., I googled “stock photo” and thought this one was pretty.
Last night, I only exercised for an hour. About half an hour in, my ankle started to hurt like crazy, but I knew I couldn’t stop before an hour, so I pushed through it. After, I hobbled over to bed.
I actually slept very well last night, which was great!
Today I’ve mostly binged and purged. Oh, and I keep soiling myself. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t abuse laxatives.
In about an hour, my dad gets home from work and we’re having a family dinner. Yay…
In other news, my mom and I were watching The Vicar of Dibley earlier and the vicar was invited to consecutive Christmas lunches and very full and sick by the end (because, you know, no one on tv knows how to say things like, “Oh, I’m already attending a Christmas lunch”) and while watching the scene of the second lunch, I mentioned to my mom that this type of situation is when it would come in hand being bulimic. She laughed and said she’d thought the same thing, but didn’t know if it’d be appropriate to say anything.
I’m very, very nauseous from all the laxatives. Then, I noticed I needed a new bottle, but couldn’t remember where I hid the rest of my laxatives. I ended up searching all over my room hoping they hadn’t been found by someone and discarded. Luckily (unluckily?) I did find them.
Tonight, I’m going to eat the obligatory Father’s Day meal, purge, and then probably work out until bedtime. Yeah, I’m living the life.
Yesterday, I woke up with a migraine. I also awoke with high levels of anxiety. The two of them together meant I was NOT going to my appointment with the behavioral health guy. I called him up and explained and rescheduled for next week. He again urged me to go to the hospital.
I spent the rest of the day engaged in either lying in bed or binging and purging or exercising, or taking pills. I tried to sleep last night but couldn’t. Then, in the early morning hours, my brain started telling me I needed to get up and exercise and I needed to do it right now.
So, I got up and exercised for 3 hours. When I finally went back to bed, I was exhausted. “This is good,” I thought to myself, “maybe now I can sleep!”
Nope. I didn’t get any sleep last night.
Finally, this morning after my parents got up, I asked my dad to take me to the ER. He dropped me off on his way to work. I spent most of the day there, my migraine was being stubborn, and they wanted to give me lots of fluids.
I considered, after the getting up in the middle of the night to exercise this, asking to be admitted for a couple days just to give my body a break and maybe help break the cycle I’m in. However, since tomorrow is Father’s Day, I decided not to.
After I got home (around 5pm), I went immediately to bed. The 4 rounds of pain killers made me very tired, especially with not sleeping last night. I slept for a couple hours. I got up with every intention to write letters to my fellow bloggers, but was just too tired and out of it. (I promise, I’ll try to get them out in Monday’s mail.)
I’ve taken nearly a whole bottle (1,000 pills) of laxatives in the last too days. Needless to say, I’m not feeling the greatest despite the fluids and pain killers today. I do, however, feel waayyyyy better than this morning. I’m really hoping to sleep tonight. My plan now is to go workout, then sleep. I hope, hope, hope I can sleep.
Tomorrow, at some point, we’re having a family dinner. I think that’s all that’s planned because my dad works tomorrow. Though, I do have a feeling he will want to play a game of Risk if we can find the time.
Wish me luck with tomorrow. Have a good night. Hopefully I won’t see you again before tomorrow morning.
I call you brother and sister because we are on this painful, misunderstood, stereotyped, mysterious journey together. Though we have never met, though we don’t agree or believe the same on everything, though our stories are different, at this moment in time, we understand each other like so few do, like so few can.
And you, you right there, you are beautiful.
I was struck by this truth as I read the blog of a fellow sufferer. There is a beauty in you that comes from the pain, that comes from struggling each day, each meal, each minute, and continuing to continue. There is beauty in your strength. There is beauty in your vulnerability. There is beauty in your struggle, and beauty in your resilience.
That includes you.
I wish me telling you this could make you see your own beauty, could make you understand that you need to stop abusing yourself in your own mind. I know it won’t. But know that I believe it’s true for you.
This includes every parent, friend, bully, significant other, stranger, and everyone in between. It also includes the voice in your head that tells you you’re not good enough.
You are beautiful. Try to mull that over for a bit. Not only that, you are strong. You are so much stronger than you realize. You are here, you are reading this, and that means you’ve overcome every obstacle in your life so far, and you’re still here. You may not have the best coping mechanisms, you may not know or see your strength, but you are strong just for surviving. And you are worth it. You are worth being on this earth. You are worth that food. You are worth the air you breathe and the space you take up. You are also worth recovery, and I hope that if you don’t see that you, someday you will.
Thank you for being here. When your head tells you you’re not worth it, or that you shouldn’t be here, remember that I am so grateful that you are here. Keep existing. ❤
a2eternity 