At the treatment center where I’m getting treatment for my bulimia, we just moved to a new building. This means a new art room with clean, fresh walls. So, the art therapist decided to turn one wall into a recovery wall. She is having all the patients paint a symbol that means recovery to them. The anatomical heart above is what I painted on the wall. I chose a heart because I wanted to symbolize courage and to me, courage comes from the heart. I used red to symbolize the blood pumping through your veins when you are doing something courageous. I used yellow to symbolize life because recovery is about reclaiming your life.
The picture above is what I did in art last night. I wanted to try to process a little the trauma I’ve experienced in my past. This was a HARD piece to do. I cried throughout it, and I had to take a break at one point, but it was a good experience, very therapeutic. I used black to represent the feeling of oppression that the trauma gives me. I used the red slash marks to indicate the wounds to my body, spirit, and soul that the trauma caused. Then I wrote words that the trauma brought and things that I felt I lost because of the trauma. Next week I want to either paint something pretty over it or on the back of it to acknowledge that the trauma will always be there, but it doesn’t need to control my life or be my focus, I can still build a beautiful life for myself.
I’ve been binging and purging non-stop for the last 2 weeks. It seems to have caught up to me physically. My left side and stomach (anatomical stomach, not my abdomen) hurt so much! The pain is excruciating. I just finished purging and I am doubled over in pain.
My ex wouldn’t let me cut my hair. My hair was pretty long. The last few days, I’ve been thinking about cutting it. Partly as a “screw you” to my ex and partly because I wanted a change and I was feeling like if I didn’t cut my hair, I might do something stupid like drop out of school or fly to another state to live (with no job and no plan) so I cut my hair. I cut about a foot off. I really like it. And I feel so light now.
Today I find myself back in the pit of despair. I found out that a friend of mine died from her eating disorder. Everything seems so pointless. Everything feels too overwhelming. I want to hide and never be found.
Today was my last therapy session with my eating disorder therapist. She’s leaving the eating disorder center where I go to go into private practice. While I can’t fault her on this, it’s been rough on me. I have a hard time connecting well with therapists and I thought we had a good connection. I felt comfortable with her. I’m not looking forward to starting over with a new therapist. And I’m scared to not have a good relationship with the new one. My mind has been telling me this is a good point to just stop recovery and take a break from it all. I know, however, that this would mean going back to my eating disorder 100%. I’m not prepared to do that. I’ve worked to hard for the little bit of progress I’ve made. I need to keep working on recovery.
Sometimes I just feel like giving up.
The boyfriend proposed! I’m so excited! I said yes! More to come. ❤
My fibromyalgia was so bad yesterday. My whole body hurt. I spent most of the day in bed because it just hurt too much to get up. Because I was in so much pain, I didn’t go to my DBT group or treatment. Even though I didn’t go because of a legitimate reason, I feel like a naughty child who skipped school.
Also, because of the pain yesterday, I didn’t work on anything school-related. I am now behind and feeling overwhelmed. I have a test due today I haven’t studied for and discussions I need to post that I’m lost on and an assignment due tomorrow I haven’t even started. Plus, my fibromyalgia, while not nearly as painful today, still hurts and has me feeling absolutely exhausted today. I just want to crawl back in bed and forget I’m a person for the day.
It’s Easter Sunday. Gone are the days of Easter baskets filled with candy, and I can’t say I’m sad. As a recovering bulimic, a basket of candy would just be asking for trouble. However, I at least expected my family to get together today.
I tried several times to firm up plans with my family to get together today for at least part of the day, and everyone reassured me they wanted to get together, but no one would actually commit to anything. I feel disappointed. I feel relieved that I don’t have to worry about an Easter dinner, but disappointed that I am not with my family today. It makes me miss my late sister and her kids even more than I normally do. She always got everyone together for holidays. She planned elaborate get togethers. She had a knack for planning and getting people together. I don’t have that. And I miss her today. And I miss my family today. And it makes me both want to binge and purge.
I had to give up my scale today. I cried when I walked past the spot where it normally sits. I miss my scale. It’s so hard not weighing myself obsessively. It’s so hard not knowing that number. It’s so hard giving up that control. Imagine the song below is a song to my scale.
I miss my scale so much, and it’s only been gone less than a day. I might do some art around this. My scale really is the voice inside my head. It dictates so much about how my day will go, how I will eat, how my mood will be, how much I will exercise, etc. I feel lost without it.