AtypicallyRecovering

Photo- mine

I’m not suicidal, so don’t alert the online mind police. There’s a difference between wanting to die and being tired of this excuse of a life. I’m in the latter category. I’ve spent the last 22 years on disability, and it’s just getting to be a tiresome and self-loathing “life”. I’m housebound because of severe heat intolerance, and have a laundry list of chronic medical disorders. The eating disorder (and being raised on a starvation ‘diet’) is responsible for a few of them. Others are common with aging, though I’m hardly elderly. The epilepsy has been around since a nasty concussion when I was nearly 13, and another 6 months later.

I wanted SO much to get well from the eating disorder, but that was a bust. I ended up feeling more worthless than when I started, with a therapist who wasn’t at all engaged for about the last 2 years I was with her- but she’d have just enough contact to make it seem like something it wasn’t. She wasn’t going to help me with chronic reneging on phone calls. When that went south last Autumn, and I finally got that sinking feeling in my gut that I was worthless to her as well as myself, nothing has felt like it will ever be OK. The damage was done.

I’m ‘atypical’, and overweight, so I can’t stand being in this body. I don’t know how to see my body as just a shell holding me together in space. I was conditioned from a very young age to equate weight with worth. Toss in society’s disgust with anything not abnormally thin, and I feel like a parasite on the ass of humanity. Disgusting to be anywhere near. And when the ‘self-worth therapist’ loses interest, that is the death knell for all things worthy of self-tolerance. I know that her shit is her shit- and it still hurts like hell to end up thinking anything she told me was pure BS. Just to keep getting paid- which now leaves me with nothing IF I’d want to get help elsewhere.

I’m stopping with my dietitian as well- seems hypocritical to keep going when I can’t get myself to do anything “normal” with food. I want to go back in time before I ever heard of that therapist, and not be in this prison of worsened mental health because of her indifference. I needed that last phone call she never made… my life literally may end up shorter because she CHOSE not to call me to discuss a test prep that wasn’t possible; she said she might have ideas to make it easier. And she never called. I’d already flunked 3 colon cancer tests (including one colonoscopy). But without a prep that I can tolerate, there’s no second colonoscopy to remove a 1.5mm polyp. The Cologuard was abnormal (not an acid test for diagnostics, but with the other stuff it’s not good), and an MRI showed some abnormalities. So, that phone call that never happened mattered. The doctors won’t work with me. I’ve tried several different ways to try and get them to understand that the volume is too much. I got my nephrologist to sign off on a prep that I can tolerate, but the GI docs said no.

How am I supposed to be interested in anything to do with being well when I’m kicked to the curb no matter where I look for help ? Why keep working on the eating disorder if I’m not worth a phone call ? What is the point? I’m still looking at stuff on YouTube hoping that something resets my thinking, but I’m not holding my breath.