I took too many laxatives this morning and I am dying. Not literally, thankfully. Unfortunately?
My stomach is cramping like crazy, I’m nauseous and vomiting, and I’ve shat myself, which is completely unpleasant. All I can do is lie here, close to the bathroom, and writhe in pain. At least I’m not binging and purging…
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.
Facebook reminded me yesterday that it was the one year anniversary of us being “facebook official”. Yesterday was the day I left. My heart broke again when I saw the reminder and I burst into tears, sitting at the stop waiting for the shuttle to take me to the airport.
This last week I was in California with my fiance. A few days ago, he started hitting me. At first, I tried to shake it off. But by Thursday afternoon I couldn’t anymore, and I bought the first available ticket home for Friday. Yesterday morning, I left before he woke up, sneaking out, afraid to tell him I was leaving. I left my ring on the dresser.
Sometime on my trip home, he figured out I wasn’t coming back because he blocked me from Facebook. Total travel time, between the uber, the shuttle, my delated flight, and driving home, was over 14 hours. It was a long day filled with many tears. I am heartbroken. Even though I know I made the right choice, I still love him. It still hurts to have the broken promise of a future with him. I went from having my whole future planned out to having nothing. I’m lost, alone, and wounded. I feel foolish. I feel used. I feel like I’ve done something wrong by leaving him. I’m so confused right now.
I didn’t make it to the rec center. I made it about half of the 2 mile walk to the rec center.
One of the joys of fibromyalgia is that it can lie in wait, silently, and POUNCE the moment you do anything physically stimulating. The pain started almost immediately, and escalated consistently as I walked toward the rec center. After about a mile, I knew I wasn’t going to make it. I sat down for a few minutes to let my body rest because the pain was so bad I wasn’t sure I could walk in any direction.
After a short rest, I started walking back toward home. The pain continued to increase as I walked home. It became nearly disabling. I kept having to stop to rest to let the pain subside just enough to allow me to continue my trek. By the time I was 5 minutes out, I was in tears from the pain and feeling the world’s biggest fool for crying just because I had to walk home, something people do and take for granted all the time.
I entered my home with gritted teeth. I walked straight to my bed, kicked my shoes off, and collapsed on my bed. I just lay there for probably 20 minutes, breathing deeply to keep the tears back, and waiting for the pain to recede to a manageable level.
The pain is still pretty bad. That’s another fun part of fibromyalgia. Just because you stop being active doesn’t mean the pain goes away. It sticks around, sometimes for 2 or 3 days, just to miff you.
I ran out of fibromyalgia meds about a week ago and since my insurance dropped me I can’t afford to get it refilled. The pain is very bad tonight. It keeps waking me up. I just want to sleep. It hurts so much.
“It’s not about food or weight…It’s about feeling unsafe in the world. It’s about feeling like we can’t trust anyone, not even ourselves. The Eating Disorder becomes “the reliable one”.
It’s about the feelings we can’t verbalize, that can’t be expressed through words so we try to “say” it with our bodies.
It’s about an extreme, intense feeling of being inadequate. Like nothing we do or say or feel is “right”. “Not thin enough” often means something more painful to admit. That we are not enough. full stop.
It’s about feeling overwhelmed by life. Like nothing makes sense. Nothing is simple. The Eating Disorder gives us a sense of calm…to an outsider our life may look like it is in absolute chaos but it gives us the false sense of security we so desperately need. Problems that seem too big and complicated to deal with, feelings that are uncomfortable to sit with; the Eating Disorder provides us with simple, concrete answers to our distress. Our bodies are the problem and we need to fix the problem by losing weight.
It’s about needing to feel loved and comforted but feeling unworthy of real love and comfort. It’s about hating having needs and desires. For some of us, needs make us feel greedy and selfish. For some of us, having needs means we can easily get hurt if those needs are not met. For some of us, we don’t believe we deserve to have our needs met. We try to convince ourselves that we don’t need anything by avoiding food, one of our greatest primal needs.”
Read the rest here.
I came across this video completely be accident while surfing youtube ASL videos. It left me sobbing. It makes me think of my sister, who died 3 years ago. Words cannot describe how hard it is to lose a sister, especially one who is a best friend.
I’ve been some form of sick for over a month now.
Yesterday, when I woke up after my drunk escapades, my throat was raw and and I had a cough and my chest hurt. Everything hurt. Just walking from the living room to the bathroom was an ordeal.
Today I slept until after 4pm. My throat hurts more than yesterday, still coughing, have a fever, my chest still hurts and my ears are hurting. Luckily, the general body pain has decreased significantly.
I just want to stop being sick. -___-
At least I can’t eat.
The 3 year anniversary of my sister’s death is on Tuesday.
Three years and I still don’t know how to get past it.
I still can’t think of her without falling apart. I still don’t know how to deal with the pain. I still hate this time of year. The anniversary of her death, Thanksgiving, Christmas, her birthday.
I decided to go online and look for a grief workbook.
I couldn’t even do that without crying.
I feel so stuck. And broken.
I showered this morning. In fact, as I type this, I’m sitting on my bed in a robe with wet, and partially brushed hair.
This may seem like no big deal to most.
However, when you are clinically depressed, it might just be.
I didn’t shower for over a week before this morning. I hate admitting it. I don’t admit those kinds of things to my closest friends. My mind equates poor hygiene with laziness, and I literally cannot admit to anyone anything that might even imply laziness.
It’s not that I didn’t want to shower. I felt vile and disgusting and fee things will make you feel worse about yourself than truly awful personal hygiene. I didn’t want to see or be seen. I hated myself for not showering.
So why didn’t I just shower?
Did you know that depression can cause extreme fatigue? I’m not talking “I went to bed too late so I’m tired”, I’m talking “I haven’t slept in days and my whole body aches with weariness and my brain literally hurts from exhastion and even thinking about moving feels overwhelming and I might cry if I consider it too long” complete and total fatigue.
Did you know this kind of overwhelming fatigue can completely override your life? Your sense of hunger, your will to maintain your hygiene, any interest in anything at all?
Did you know that depression is often accompanied by another illness such as fibromyalgia, low thyroid, or any number of things that can ALSO cause fatigue?
I have hypothyroidism and fibromyalgia. At the moment, I’m not on anything for the fibromyalgia because the last med I took to control it left me wanting to stab myself and literally sew my mouth shut. My doctor thought it best to taper off of it instead of continuing the risk of me doing some permanent, and possibly fatal, harm to myself. So now I have to wait until Thursday to discuss new options.
In the meantime, I’m left with uncontrolled fibromyalgia and uncontrolled depression and when you combine those, it’s hard to function at a level that resembles human.
Sothis morning, I finally have the tiniest spark of energy and I FORCE myself to shower. I throw on a robe and collapse on my bed for a while. Finally, I’ve regained enough energy to brush my hair.
Where is my hairbrush? I couldn’t find it anywhere, which is odd since I only use it in one place.
Suddenly, it occurred to me: it might still be in my duffel bag.
You see, last weekend, I went to my brothers’ place. Naturally, I packed my brush. And since I’ve neither showered, nor brushed my haor, in over a week, I had never unpacked it.
Naturally.
a2eternity 