It's hard to believe that I haven't written anything in nearly two and a half months. I wish I could come up with a better excuse than I have been busy but thinking about it, honestly, I have gone through another stint of avoidance.
I wish I could report back and say things have been better but they haven't. Mom has been in and out of the hospital (still cancer free :)) but now experiencing unknown medical problems which may or may not be complications of her surgery. The positive is I have practiced some of the skills I learned in my first outpatient program and remained calm. It wasn't until they decided to do a catscan of her brain that I lost my mind. Thankfully, that came back clean. Where do we stand now? Well, I wish I had the answers. Her doctor's words were "I'm baffled." I guess you could say that it's time for a second opinion? I don't know. I have resigned myself to the fact that she is being taken care of and isn't alone. There is nothing I can do and this is completely out of my hands.
I guess the biggest struggle has been the EDNOS (I still prefer anorexic but who am I to fight with the DSM IV). I was ok for a bit. Maybe the first month out of treatment but things have taken a huge backslide. Alarms on my cell phone go off to remind me to eat and I don't... I skip meals intentionally and completely survive on coffee/lattes with an extra shot of espresso. I can only imagine that my stomach is screaming for help at this point but I don't hear the noise.
My husband and I made a deal when I started the EDP (eating disorders program). He would take BOTH of my scales and hide them. I promised not to look for them and when he and my therapist decided I could have them back, they would be returned to me. Fortunately (or unfortunately) depending on how you look at the situation, I found them. It was all very innocent. I was looking for slippers under the bed and there they were. He admits that he moves them from time to time but now I know where they are. For days it was all I could think about.... I shared it with my therapist-- which as much as I adore her, I regret since she threw me under the bus by telling my husband I found them.
.....it was almost like the gravitational pull the moon has on the ocean waves. Knowing they were there. Easily accessible..... I broke down. I haven't weighed myself since August 2, 2011 until one morning when I couldn't take it anymore..... I just had to do it. I always had strict rules-- I wouldn't weigh myself unless it was after the first pee in the morning, completely naked (including no jewelry), the scale needed to be placed on the same exact bathroom tile and I could not have my period. You would think having my period that day would have stopped me but it didn't.
I carefully removed the scale from under the bed, making sure I knew the exact position so when I placed it back, no one would be the wiser. I brought the scale to my trusty bathroom tile, disrobed and stood on it only to be scared, ashamed and guilty of what I had done. Prior to being admitted to the EDP I had a goal weight.... I never hit it. But now, here I was nearly 3 months out of the program, below my goal weight. I actually weighed less then I did before I sought help.
I just opened a Pandora's box of emotions. I felt guilty. Not only had I lied to myself, but I betrayed the trust of some of the most important supporters, especially my husband. In my EDA (eating disorders anonymous) group, i shared this but right now I am writing/saying it out loud for the first time. I'm sick to my stomach over it but it's done-- and I have to move on and I fear I will lose my scale as a result of this blog but I can't live with the guilt anymore.
In the fairy tales I read to my daughter, the princess always lives happily ever after.... but not this princess. A wise member of my EDA group told me to sit down, write about my daughter and all of the reasons I love her and then think about how I would feel if another woman raised her. It would kill me. Instead I am intentionally killing myself but I don't know how to stop.
My fairytale would end like this: ".....and one day the princess began eating again. She learned to love what she saw in her mirror. No magic, no tricks, just her own inner and outer beauty. The princess realized that the numbers meant nothing. She realized she had no control. Control is an excuse for out of control behavior. It's something she told herself to feel better. Yet, she finally realized how important it was to be happy, healthy and eating and being a size 0 is nothing to be proud of, but ashamed of and then, and only then did she live happily ever after."
