For months I've been talking about hitting rock bottom.... Everytime I hit what I think is rock bottom, it's clearly not because I continue on a path of self destruction. It's been a few weeks since I have written and not because of lack of time, but more because of shame. I once believed I had control over this eating disorder but now, I realize it has complete control over me. For example: ordering off a menu has become difficult. I can't do it. My husband either cooks or brings dinner home and put it in front of me because I have no desire to eat so when I'm asked "what would you like for breakfast/lunch/dinner?" I can't answer-- because I don't want anything.
In the time I've been back to work, which is about 5 weeks now, I've lost an additional 7 lbs. I know that's fucked up. I can hear the whispers behind my back at my job so I kow that they've noticed too. My husband has been very supportive and suggested I Netflix a documentary so he could learn more--- which turned out to be a ploy. He wanted me to watch it as an eye opener. So, this weekend we watched it. And it scared the shit out of me. I was emotionally drained, scared, confused, ashamed and sad all at the same time. But, I still said to him, "I'm not as bad as those girls though, right?" He couldn't believe that I still don't see that I am-- but they were getting ont he scales weighing 82 pounds, 90 pounds, 79 pounds, etc. I'm still way above all that. I guess what people see, which I don't see is I am on the same exact path as these women.
Watching the documentary made me curious about how long and how intense this eating disorder has been for me throughout my life. I've kept a journal which goes all the way back to my freshman year of college and so yesterday, I sat and read and cried for the girl who wrote about her pain. The girl who could have been in that documentary. The girl that was me. I hid this from some people for so long. I honestly don't think anyone had a clue except for the handful of roommates I've had. My anxiety has been off the charts and I'm trying to work through it. But..... ya know what? I STILL have a goal weight. It pains me to even type that but I do.
Everyone around me wants me to get help. Sadly-- I have a ton of excuses why I shouldn't go. But watching this documentary, I realized what my biggest fear is. I don't wnat to put weight on. I want to be thin. I really do. I don't want to give up the control. Yet, at the same time, I'm so tired. It consumes me.... I think about it all the time. There is a really small part of me that wants to go.... but it's very small.
I feel like shit. Every single day I feel like shit. My stomach hurts and I'm nauseaus. I live on Turbo Dunkin Donuts coffee which means my stomach has to be a mess. I fear the damage I have done or doing to myself. And at the same time, I still don't wnat to go. I wish I knew what was going on with me and why I relapsed. I have no idea and I don't think anyone can fix me. There are nights I go to bed and wonder if I'm going to wake up. Is my heart going to stop beating in the middle of the night? One would think this would definitlete make me want to go but it doesn't.
Surprisingly I'm not depressed. I'm overall pretty happy with most of my life--- I see more good in it now than I did before I was in the hospital. I just don't know how much further it's got to go before I get help. I say I'm going to voluntariliy admit myself but, honestly, I don't think I'm going to. This week, I'm going to NewYork where my best friend lives. For some reason, I think she's going to have all the answers for me--- but she won't. She'll be able to guide me and she'll be honest with me (which everyone, except my mom who is in denial, has been).
Being anorexic at 22 is much different than being anorexic at 36. My body can't handle this anymore. I just don't have the motivation I need to go. I wish I did. I wish I wanted to go and get help, but honestly, deep down, I don't. I just want to be thin. I want to stay thin forever. I like what I see in the mirror.... but again, I don't see what everyone else is seeing. I know I'm sick. But what's the bottom for me? Death?
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