Photo: mine
It’s been nearly a year since things with my former eating disorder ‘therapist’ went far enough down the tubes to feel like therapy, such as it was, was over. Nobody had asked about my intake for a couple of years, so it seemed like it didn’t really matter if I ate or not. I knew I’d have to make myself get in enough fluids and food to make sure that my kidneys had enough on board not to get worse. It’s been hard, and there are a lot of days when I think about just going back to what was less physically uncomfortable. The emotional end of things has been much harder considering all that has gone on with my former non-therapy.
I’ve tried multiple times over nearly 4 years to get rid of the nasogastric tube that gets enough fluids in for adequate kidney function, as well as blood pressure support. The tube is back in after another try at not having it last month. I made it a few days, with lower volume food intake (tried to eat higher density foods, but I don’t like a lot of them), but then struggled for 3 days, and that’s my self-imposed limit. I can’t risk going longer since I’ve been in acute renal failure twice in the past 4 1/2 years. But I am still maintaining fluids, even if I need the tube to do so.
Food is still a problem. “Normal” eating is still something I don’t feel I deserve, and it’s physically unpleasant with bloating and feeling too full. I’m not a purger, so once it’s in, I have to put up with the side effects. I’m not as ‘avoidant’ with the types of food I will eat, but am still consumed with not eating over X number of calories per day. Tracking food is something I tried to get away from, but I have to know carbs for insulin dosing, and protein for my kidneys. It’s very difficult to get in enough protein when I have to restrict the options because of gout.
I’ve been trying to do the opposite of what my head says, and at times I can do that, but only with some types of food (single serving sizes are helpful). I’ve wanted to let myself have one meal a week or month when I just have what I want, but that hasn’t gone well for several reasons. The medical restrictions on food, only getting X amount of insulin per month, etc are hard to deal with when attempting to break some ‘head rules’ about food. The current “never restrict” goals of eating disorder recovery are hard for someone who has literally always been restricted (when I was a child) or my own active and passive restriction… For me, active restriction is when I relapse and passive restriction is eating how I did for my entire life, eating about one meal stretched over the day. For me, that was ‘normal’. And what I see in the mirror still doesn’t look like it deserves food, even though I’d give more to someone else, whether they were larger or smaller than I am.
I am starting to understand that like dogs, birds, fish, or whatever family of animals, humans have different sizes and shapes that ‘just are’. There’s no ‘defect’, just natural differences. I’m not sure what my set-point weight is (natural weight without restriction) because I’ve never NOT restricted in some way (or been externally restricted). I’ve read or heard (YouTube) that it takes time and an extended period of not restricting to get to that place, so I’m nowhere near that since I’m still restricting to some degree with the fear of going over X number of calories that are below what the dietician I saw told me is ‘normal’ for my age, activity level, and body type. I will never be a greyhound. I’m more of a Labrador retriever. And I still have the urge to be a greyhound.
I understand that repairing the damage I’ve done to myself over decades takes time and food. I know that I’ve gained muscle in my arms and legs, and that there is a difference in swelling if I don’t eat enough protein (hardest thing to get in with medical limitations). Some of that muscle gain is starting to atrophy a bit. I’m tired of most ‘safe’ protein sources, so there is a lot of forcing in of stuff just to get to the minimum, and honestly, I miss that mark many times a week. But I’m still trying. My heart rate is still wonky, and my blood pressure stays low normal unless I’ve taken trash out to the dumpster; then it goes to high normal for about 10 minutes. The higher blood pressure is probably better for my kidneys since poor perfusion is why they are damaged.
Most days I don’t feel like anything will really work to get me rid of the restricting. I still feel worth less than I did 5 years ago when I relapsed, after 3 1/2 years with my former ‘therapist’. It’s hard to feel worth anything when I’ve felt worthless for decades, and I felt kicked to the curb by someone who had no interest in me getting well even though that was the sole purpose of that relationship. I also know it had nothing to do with me personally, I was just another failed patient because I was too broke to be worth the time to get well. I’m not alone there… lots of examples online, which helps in knowing it’s not about me, but also sad that so many have been left suffering more because of that relationship that fizzled out without the decency to finish what was started. I’m working on getting past that, which is hard, but it’s not like this is the first person to be a disappointment and something to recover from. I generally land on my feet, and thankfully am as independent as I can be within physical limitations. There is no limit to my emotional independence since that’s pretty much all I’ve known. So, while I’m broken, I’m not destroyed.
Category: Eating Disorder
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Have I Gotten Anything Right Yet?
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I Don’t Know How To “Just Eat” Without Shame
Photo: Mine
For something that most people never think about, food is a ‘threat’ in my head. I know it’s irrational, and I know how I’d tell someone else to view food, weight, etc- but in my head, the rules for me are different. A lot of this likely started when I was bribed to lose weight as a 6-7 year old, with literal cash for each pound lost …. I wasn’t remotely fat. I don’t believe it was malicious, but it was very damaging. My mom wanted a child who looked like kids at church who simply had different body types. I am much more like a labrador retriever than a greyhound, and trying to ‘shape shift’ me became a part of my thinking that is automatic. I want so much to change that, and have for more than 45 years.
My parents were very focused on weight and looks the entirety of my memories. I can remember the floor plan of the duplex we lived in when I was 2-3 years old, so I remember a lot (creeped out my dad). Mom was always on a diet. Dad would eat nothing but yogurt and bananas if his pants felt a bit snug. There were no snacks in the house. No desserts unless it was someone’s birthday. There was nothing in the pantry aside from some soup and cereal. The spices had purple inked prices stamped on the boxes or tins from the 60s (after I moved back home, I saw the same kind at an antique mall). I was taken to some weird womens’ workout place with those butt jiggling bands that vibrated, while my mom did her quota of butt shaking. It was all I was exposed to about food, other than holidays or school lunches for the 2 years I attended public school where neither of my parents worked.
I feel ashamed that I feed this thing I see in the mirror. And at the same time, I know that my head is lying to me. If I saw someone much larger than I am eating X kind or amounts of food, it wouldn’t even register. When I’ve watched “600 Pound Life”, I see those morbidly obese people eating huge amounts of food, and my first thought is wondering what hurt them so badly that they are destroying themselves. Not judgement like I do to myself for simply eating a ‘normal’ meal without knowing every calorie and grams of macronutrients. I have to watch carbs and proteins because of health reasons, but otherwise, I WANT to be able to “just eat” without shame. I’ve tried to ‘let’ myself eat what I want for just one day, without limits on what (need to limit quantity on some things for insulin and kidney reasons), and I haven’t been able to do it.
My head is no different than it was when I was diagnosed with anorexia at age 17, days before classes started at a good state university. I used to count curds of cottage cheese, and allowed myself 3 curds, and not the biggest ones in the container. I have gotten better about portions, but my head still tallies up calories (and I log them to have some kind of accountability, as well as knowing I’m getting minimums in- or at least close to what I’m supposed to eat). But I have never known normal eating. I’ve read that it’s about enjoyment as well as nutrition- two things that were never part of the equation in my life. I’m trying to change that, and it’s like putting me in the middle of China and expecting me to be able to use one of their computers without knowing the language at all.
I’m in my early 60s, with decades of direct and indirect chronic medical issues related to malnutrition and lifelong restriction of food. I’m getting things from the grocery store to challenge myself, and am so ashamed to have ‘junk food’ because I don’t “look” like I need food. I have been able to get single serving sizes of some foods that have ‘OK numbers’ and I am so acutely aware of how much I’m stressed by deviating from the usual stripped down options I generally eat. One meal stretched over the entire day is what I’ve had for most of my life. When I’ve been in hospitals, treatment centers, or in public where i need to look normal around food, I’ve eaten more- and then compensated afterwards for my transgressions.
It’s not about how I look, or ‘controlling’ anything (control is shot so quickly with each relapse of overt restricting). It’s about not feeling that I deserve the same as anyone else, no matter their or my size. I don’t know how to fix that, and never got any guidance on that in 3 1/2 years with my ex therapist. I’ve had to wing it with various YouTubers who have eating disorder recovery content, and it’s hard. I’ve had an NG (nasogastric tube) for fluids for 3 1/2 years because I can’t tolerate the volume of food and fluids too close together. At this point, I wonder when it becomes cruel to expect this body to consume what it never has. I’m trying more calorically dense foods to minimize volume, hoping that i can then tolerate eating and drinking without the tube.
I just want to know “normal”. -
February Update 2026: Working on Moving Forward
Photo- mine.
I’m still a long way from where I was in 2021 when this current relapse started, but without the external pressure and ex therapist’s general absence most of the time, at least I don’t feel like I have to follow her orthorexic food rules that go against any of the more recent views on eating disorder recovery. ANY restriction is discouraged, no matter the person’s weight. I’m struggling to get back to my ‘normal’ eating which was still restricting, but different. I was used to one meal spread across the day, and I know that can’t work if I want to prevent going backwards re: my body healing from decades of depletion. Five years is the longest ‘overt restriction relapse’ I’ve ever had – while under the ‘care’ of someone who claims to be the last hope for eating disorders.
https://tabithafarrar.com/2018/06/unrestricted-eating/Restriction is also felt to be the biggest reason people binge- regardless of the type of eating disorder diagnosed. I know a lot of heavy people who eat far less than others- and I have been in that group much of my life. The body is designed to survive, so if it feels it’s not getting enough, it triggers the body to eat to get its needs met. And the BMI chart was never meant for general use- it was designed by a Belgian astronomer in 1832, with no scientific vetting, even for the times. It is pointless- it’s like telling a poodle to look like a chihuahua… stupid. Every BODY is different, and has different needs.
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC10693914/
https://www.therapeuticcounseling.org/post/breaking-the-binge-restrict-cycleI’ve been fortunate that regular bingeing left me when I left the U of IL in 1982 – where I’d pick cheese from pizza boxes in the trash room on the dorm floor, after the other floor mates were asleep. That was the end of weekend bingeing, that included cheese, ice cream, chips, dip, chocolate, and the occasional bit of ramen. During the week, I ate 1/2 potato or 1 apple per day, and took 40 laxatives PER DAY, 10 at breakfast, lunch, dinner, and bedtime- without eating. I drank Diet Rite by the 2 liter bottles- and labeled mine for the big fridge in the floor study room with “herpes”, to keep people out of it (I didn’t have it, but nobody bothered my soda !!).
I also ran the 11 flights of stairs to the top of Trelease Hall where my room was-1224 was my room. It’s no wonder I passed out in the dietician’s office just before Christmas break when I was asking how to survive the month away from school at fast food places where my folks would be stopping. I wouldn’t be where my “habits” were unrestricted or even seen most of the time. My folks never bothered to think someone could eat too little, so that helped, but the bathroom access for my laxative consumption was nerve wracking. I was thankful for young sphincters, and timing any laxatives taken between known meal stops.As far as eating goes now, I still have to pay attention to “numbers” for insulin doses and making sure I don’t have too much protein. I don’t really limit what I eat, but I’m still glued to the total numbers each day, and have a very hard time eating enough per the ‘final’ calorie goal (my former dietician gave me the ‘end goal’ for calories; protein won’t change, and carbs are only restricted by the amount of insulin I’m prescribed). With drinking again, this has caused some issues with feeling really full, so I’m eating more calorically dense stuff to avoid coming in too low on food intake or feeling too full.
I guess I’m getting closer to the “normal” restriction I’ve always done- which isn’t great, but at least I’m not bogged down by food rules that I don’t agree with, or told to eat stuff I don’t normally eat (I do keep kefir around for fast protein- but it’s not a daily thing). I tend to eat fairly dull stuff in general, but like to try new things (couple of bites). I’m eating more than one meal per day, and it’s not terribly comfortable. But I’m still eating without having a therapist lurking around (which she kind of wasn’t for a big chunk of the last 6 months I was still a patient, and prior to that, there had been the gradual breadcrumbing discussed in other posts). She hasn’t known what I was eating for years, so her ‘supervision’ was not good- and I knew it. I did eat what I said I did IF she asked, but mostly, I was invisible.
I’m glad I got the NG out (again). I kept it in for 3 days while I started drinking %100 by mouth, to help relieve some pressure to do it all at once, but I don’t mind drinking non-caloric fluids. The ones with calories take up insulin, and I only get so much per month, but I will drink a bit of soda with real sugar (high fructose corn syrup is bad for gout and triglycerides) if my stomach is upset or I have a headache- but just a few sips.
It was a colossal failure to want help from her, and even more that I didn’t read the stuff written about her in greater detail before signing on. I really liked her as a person for a lot of the time with her- but being blown off over a 2nd colonoscopy prep that was too much to handle physically, when she said she’d discuss some possible options, was the last straw. I felt more worthless by her refusal to help with something that could eventually kill me. She would deny that, but words are cheap when actions scream. She has given various odd medical accounts for her absence- but then flies to see patients in other European countries, has patients living with her, and could send photos of London, but couldn’t pick up the phone. I will never understand that kind of callous disregard for someone she supposedly “love like a daughter”. Gads, I hope not. I will also never understand needing a different name in Europe. -
Perspective From The Past
Photo- mine (single footprint on dry riverbed in Kerrville, TX)
Something that helped me during my 1995 relapse was a gratitude journal, which sounded ridiculous at the time, but I gave it a shot. It was free (minus the notebook and pen), and couldn’t do any harm. I had nothing to lose. It started out fairly pathetically with “my socks match”, “the milk in the fridge doesn’t have chunks”, etc- but it built up into a log of 5 things per day (no repeats) for an entire year, and made a huge difference in how I viewed things. I had a LOT to be thankful for, even having been told I had about a month left to live if I didn’t get my act together. It also showed me how insignificant my ED was in the greater context of the world. It didn’t make it go away, but it gave me perspective, and for decades, I did OK ‘enough” with food.What we put into our heads stays in our heads. I can choose to look at what is left that’s good (living indoors, clothing, my late dogs’ photos to remind me of what love can feel like, etc), or I can focus on how miserable I am (and sometimes, it’s both). But the overall ‘stuff’ I think about IS WHAT I BECOME.
Rewiring our brains doesn’t just include what we think and do with food- but also how much negative we dwell on. It’s not a smooth path- lots of ups and downs, but the point is to look for the good, even in the bad. You can’t expect to have sweetness if you sit in vinegar.
Does that mean ignore feelings like pain, resentment, disappointment, etc? NO- it means being thankful for what good there is- and there IS good. If I CHOOSE not to believe it, then that’s on me. My family wasn’t perfect by a long shot (like everyone’s), but I’d give anything to have them back again.
If I surround myself with negative people or dwell on painful things, what use is that? Yeah, everyone has a crap day/week/month/year (and trauma creates another layer of chaos to that), but even though I’ve been through, and am going through now, some doesn’t mean EVERYTHING is .
My skating coach’s husband murdered their 6 kids when I was 14. It was a lot for a kid to deal with; I knew the oldest girl. I was brutally raped/beaten/etc for 6 hours- but I wasn’t murdered as planned; police arrived after he passed out and I escaped, and one cop shot Numbnuts (my name for him) in my bedroom… I had to clean it up when my apartment was released as a crime scene (1987). He didn’t die, and I had to testify at the trial; he changed his plea after my testimony, and is still my bitch, on parole or back in prison until 2048. I was pregnant from the rape, and thankfully miscarried it- though I felt guilt because of those who miscarry wanted pregnancies. I survived leukemia that is often diagnosed at autopsy. I’m disabled and chronically ill with multiple ED and non-ED (many painful) diagnoses- but I’m not dead. I’m often frustrated and nearly always isolated- but I can still think and watch the Olympics (volunteer or work on a dementia unit for perspective). Every person on the planet has their own version of this.And that forms how they see things and how they react to others.
Bottom line- I might not choose my circumstances, but ONLY I am responsible for my attitude. Nobody else can “make me” feel any particular way unless I let them. And I avoid negative people (not people going through rough times- and there’s a difference… up to a point).
I don’t want to BE what I’d avoid.
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Tired Of Waking Up In This Body, But Can’t Get Weight Off
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. -
Well, I Tried Not Tracking Every Thing I Ate
Photo- mine
Well, I tried a week of not tracking everything, and had NO idea if I was getting enough calories in. I was tracking carbs, protein, and sodium. But I didn’t know if it was getting enough calories. My internal calorie calculator said no… I wasn’t eating enough. So, back to MyFitnessPal.
My biggest concern with not knowing ‘numbers’ is with my kidneys. If I don’t consume enough calories and carbs, but not too much protein, I end up in acute renal failure. My kidneys have been through that twice in four years, so I am afraid of that again. My ‘head’ gives me less grief about what I eat if there is a specific reason for doing so.
I hope that I can eventually get away from anything other than carbs (also needed for insulin dosing), protein, and sodium- to be sure I get enough. My nephrologist told me that I shouldn’t try to aim for only 2 grams of sodium, as our twisted US recommendations push. It messes up the balance of sodium and potassium, and with already lowish blood pressure, I need enough sodium to make sure that my blood pressure is enough to ‘feed’ my kidneys. Everybody is different- so the “one goal for every body” is pretty stupid and narrow-minded.
At any rate, I bombed not using the tracking gizmo. -
What Kind Of Parents Restrict Food From Their Kid?
Image- Shutterstock royalty free
In general, my folks were good people. They weren’t perfect, but they weren’t psychos by a long shot. My dad was a great dad, but when it came to appearances, I had to buck up. Mom was broken and tried her best. I think she did the best she could with what she had to work with in her life. Her mom was an orphan at age 6 because of the Flu Pandemic of 1917, and was distant with her kids. When my mom was 18 months old, she became a big sister, to an asthmatic baby, so she was the “good”, quiet one who learned that she was not as important in her mind. .
My mom and dad weren’t “mean” by nature. They’d lost 2 very newborn babies two years apart, from what was called hyaline membrane disease at the time. Each was born about a month early with placenta issues requiring emergency C-sections. The second one made it to day 6… 4 1/2 days longer than his late older brother, who didn’t even get a name on his birth certificate… just “baby boy’ and his footprints. They didn’t weigh him, either. Mom never saw either of them. He always had a name with my parents and me (and they are appropriately memorialized on the family tombstone). Anyway, a bit of a tangent, but I think it’s important to show compassion even when I was inadvertently given a life sentence regarding a severely wonky relationship with food. I don’t believe for a minute that they would intentionally hurt me.
I was adopted by them before I was 2 weeks old, after spending over a week in the hospital for “feeding problems”. Eventually, after a week in a large Chicago hospital, they got me to take some kind of formula, and I was cleared for placement in my folks’ home. They’d been through the loss of 2 babies just 3 and 5 years before they got me. They wanted me. Mom struggled, I think because she was afraid that I’d be taken away before the adoption was finalized. Dad was initially reluctant to adopt after the babies’ deaths, but said once I was there, he wanted a bunch of kids- he had a lot of fun. Mom said no.
My parents didn’t bat an eye when I would count out three thin slices of hard salami, one small-ish kosher dill pickle, and a cut up carrot, and take that with me to school as my complete lunch (I’d get a diet soda in the cafeteria). That added up to about 175 calories for an entire day. I rarely ate breakfast, and we’d (mom, dad, and I) would share a 15 oz can of ravioli, Hamburger Helper, or a box of mac & cheese- with the expectation that we’d have leftovers from the boxed meals. Mom bought that food.
Teachers at school noticed when I’d start to crater, but if they said anything that got back to my dad (principal at the school), I’d be told to always say I was “fine”. One English teacher, bless her, gave me a depression questionnaire, and took the results to my high school guidance counselor, who had been a neighbor at one time. I’d known him and his family since I was two years old. Dad was furious. I was allowed to drop physics, since I had 8 classes with Driver’s Ed, so no lunch break- and dad was fine with that. He demanded it so I could graduate a full year early. I did manage to bail after the first semester of my Senior year- and was so glad to be rid of that place. I hated high school, and thankfully don’t remember a lot of it. I remember names, and a bit more about people I saw away from school. But for the most part it’s a 3 1/2 year stain on my life aside from some people. I later contacted that English teacher after dad died, and told her that I remembered her kindness, and thanked her for trying to help me. She had been transferred to a different school after her ‘intervention’ with me- and I felt so guilty.
Food was an expense to dad. He had no concept of what made up normal eating, though his mom was a great cook and baker (from Sweden), and his father had gardens of organic veggies every year. He just knew that if something was filling and tasted good, that was enough. The nutritional aspect and how that relates to health wasn’t considered. He didn’t want to spend money on something he saw as a waste. Nutrition/malnutrition be damned.
They were both on constant diets. Dad’s ‘go-to’ was bananas and yogurt until his pants fit as he liked. Mom went to every ‘diet club’ and tried every stupid diet on the planet- Weight Watchers, Diet Workshop, cabbage soup, just cabbage with either soy sauce or taco seasoning on it, and dragged me along to one of those “fitness” places where they’d strap in to some contraption that made every last ass in that place look like a 3-D seismograph. It was appalling to a 8 year old. It’s still appalling when I remember those quaking asses.
Mom started to bribe me to lose weight when I was in 2nd grade (6-7 years old)… a buck for each pound, and then the schizoid large bag of CANDY for every 5 pounds. I wasn’t remotely overweight at that point. She wanted a ‘greyhound’ like skinny kids at church. I’m more of a golden retriever in my natural body type- not the one forced on it by a mom who was too terrified to have a kid with ‘defects’, presumably because she was afraid I’d be taken away. Later, in my teens, she’d weigh me before figure skating lessons, and if I didn’t weigh what she wanted me to weigh, she’d refuse to pay for lessons. Skating was my escape- so I’d run around the neighborhood to sweat off the weight. It was a recipe for a life of eating disorders. She was never as interested in me as she was when I was on a diet. She’d whip out her wallet so fast it was like time travel. Steak for the diet? No problem. Eating grapefruit and eggs for 2 weeks – no issue. Until I started to fall apart from starvation.
I didn’t look like I had eating issues. Nobody knew what was going on at home. Nobody knew that I needed to be rescued from her. Nobody knew that we were all malnourished in that house- and it would be decades before I learned of the Minnesota Starvation Study by Dr. Ancel Keyes (he later became a total douche with lies about saturated fat and heart disease…. there is NO link; he lied with his own research). That study explained everything about what lack of nutrition does to thinking. And I’ve been in that head space for over 55 years.
My folks were struggling with their own self-worth, and that was compounded by the grief over two newborns. Mom never seeing them was a travesty and fit with the view at the time that they weren’t gong to live, so don’t get attached (as if pregnancy hadn’t done that already). I was damaged by their views on food- but I don’t think it was malicious. It was very misguided, but I still think they were mostly good parents, and decent people. -
Struggling Without The NG Tube For Fluids
Photo- mine
Except for a month and a few odd days here and there, I had a NG tube to ensure enough fluid intake to protect my kidneys for the last 41 months, changing it out every 4-6 weeks as needed. It was only supposed to be in for the duration of a bladder infection, but that was early on in treatment, and with increased food (from my ‘normal’), it was too much volume to eat and drink, so the slower fluids via the tube helped. As a RN, I was trained in how to insert and manage NG tubes. ****** it is crucial that nobody who hasn’t had this kind of training attempts to do this on their own****** You could essentially drown yourself if the fluids aren’t going into the stomach, and make a detour at the spot where the esophagus and trachea share limited real estate.
At first, it was so helpful, and stayed that way for quite a while. Then my body started viewing it as the foreign object that it was, and I had horrible post nasal drip, sneezing, and coughing. I’d attempt to take it out periodically, but I seldom made it through more than 2 days without the tube, and struggled to get enough fluids and electrolytes into my system without it. I don’t mind drinking water, but then I had some bad labs come back, and my nephrologist told me that my labs were not normal and that the only way they end up like that is from not eating enough. He gave me 2 weeks to get more fluids and Liquid IV in, or I’d be admitted for IVs.
With the NG, I managed to get things back on track, at least for the time being. I got through a month of no tube, but then the colonoscopy prep wasn’t going to get in without it, so I put it back in for the test. I tried to keep the tube out, but the severe pain from the prep was awful, and frankly, it was traumatic. I’ve had trouble getting enough in again. I keep trying new things- teas, diabetic friendly drinks, some juices (if my carbs allowed for them), and broth based soups. I don’t mind drinking/eating those things, but I have trouble with “enough”.
So now, I’m at a crossroads once again. I have another day to get it together, or I’m going to have to put the NG back in for ‘topping up’ if I can’t drink enough. It’s SO frustrating to want to do things like a normal human being only not to be able to sustain it. I can’t risk my kidneys- that’s the bottom line. And yet, I can’t stand the tube and all of the snot that comes with it. So, I’m hoping that I do better for the rest of the night, as well as tomorrow. That’s my deadline.Since I’m managing it on my own (every MD has seen it, and said very little). I KNOW I don’t “look” like I need it, and ideally, I’d be able to tolerate both food and fluids, but without the tube, something gets short-changed, and right now that’s food and fluids. The fluids I am drinking just fill me up too much, and then the reflux gets worse. With water with Liquid IV, I can let it go in slowly, and avoid the major bloating of 1/2- 1 liter of fluids in my stomach until they take their sweet time heading down the pipeline, so to speak. Low volume- high density foods help, but I don’t like eating like that. I’m more of a cheese board sort rather than someone who likes much on a plate.
I never thought I’d have that stupid tube for 3 1/2 + years, though i’m thankful that I could protect my kidneys with it. But I just want to move on with this, and do things like normal people do. Drinking fluids shouldn’t be that big of a problem. But I’ve never been great at drinking fluids, and growing up, we all had water with meals, but there wasn’t much talk about between meal fluid intake. I did drink a lot of diet soda for years, but quit that because of the nasty sweeteners.But I’m working on this. It’s so much better in other ways without that tube.
-
It’s Been A ‘Bleh’ Couple Of Weeks
Image- online search
The past couple of weeks have been exhausting for no good reason. My activity level essentially never changes with being housebound, but I’ve not felt great. With the colon cancer screening fails, that’s a bit unnerving, but the main areas of discomfort aren’t located in the iffy anatomical neighborhood, so that’s a little bit of a relief. I’ve had what feels like bruised ribs under my right armpit, but haven’t hurt anything there, so I don’t know what’s going on. I have a history of blood clots in my right lung, but that was 18 years ago, and I have no respiratory or cardiac symptoms. I need to make another THC dispensary run, since that’s what allows me to sleep, especially when I’m in pain.
The aftermath of the ex-therapist’s harm continues to be an emotional rollercoaster. I’ve heard and read so much more about her pattern of breadcrumbing and in some cases abuse that can’t be part of any normal therapy. I finally read a book about her, and was surprised but also not surprised. There was one situation in particular that she yelled at me when she called. The way she explained away that type of “therapy” in an interview was that the patients actually want that, so their eating disorder ‘mind’ isn’t as upset over the activity being yelled about, which is generally related to eating.
I’d had a rough day about 7 months into ‘therapy’ with her, and the patient she had talking to me on a regular basis had let her know that I hadn’t eaten what I was supposed to, so when Ex-T was home from her ‘food police’ time with the guy who showed up from Oz, she called me and yelled what I had to eat while she was on the phone, and then “don’t take all day with one cracker” (they’re dry, and I have physical issues with swallowing), “get X and eat it now”, etc. I was stunned, and miserably full when she got done shouting ‘orders’. She sounded SO different than the person I’d spoken with prior to that night. It was frightening.
In an email sent to her a while back, explaining how damaging the lack of contact had been, especially around the 2nd colonoscopy prep my GI doctor wanted done, her only response was how it all impacted her. NO comment about what I, HER PATIENT, had been going through. Then some vague comments about her health (a common explanation for lack of contact), with nothing specific disclosed (her prerogative), which was also a pattern. So, I’m trying to figure out what to do, and she’s having a pity festival over being butt hurt by my email about what was going wrong with the so-called therapy. The health stuff may be true (hope not) but it all fits into the breadcrumbing pattern of toxic control and psychological manipulation, so I don’t know if I can- or should- believe her. She’s still wanting some kind of contact, but I’m so far past wanting anything to do with her that I can’t see a situation where I’d want to talk to her again. At least I could block a couple of ways she could contact me, along with anyone I know who might be used to find out info from me, but I can’t block her on my email, unfortunately.
I am having more days when I’m not as bothered by her behavior, but it’s still hard to come to terms with how much worse this all was than what I’d envisioned. I didn’t think I’d be afraid to speak about her (via blogging), or find so many other examples on videos or in books where she was completely past any type of therapeutic ‘reason’ in what she did. She made up her own ‘condition’ to explain eating disorders, and there are parts of that that do resonate with a LOT of people, including me, though not as much now. She had some very good ideas at times, and when I first heard about her, I was amazed that she ‘got it’. But then having contact with her showed me someone unrecognizable from who I saw on a news program about her clinic. I also found a document on a financial website showing that the clinic had made over $9M CAD. Dun & Bradstreet is a known name, and it just came up when googling the clinic. This corresponds to the comments about how she lost interest in patients who ran out of money. Everything I’d seen in court papers from an investigation into her clinic pans out- and for so long, I didn’t want to believe any of that. That was my foolishness.
The holidays are also rough, not only with most of my family gone (who are around here and with whom I grew up), but with the eating disorder. I have a friend who invites me to every family holiday meal she hosts, which is SO kind, and I truly do appreciate being included. But I still can’t eat around others, and the autonomic disorder makes being inside a space with a thermostat set for normal people difficult, the stuff I’d have to drag with me is nuts, and also the temperature of what I eat impacts my declining invitations. I hope I get to the day when it’s not so hard.
I’m hoping that the pain of not getting well with Ex-T eases consistently in time, and that I get to the point of it being completely behind me. I won’t seek out help from another virtual therapy situation (or any new humans in general), and Medicare won’t pay for much- though I do have a very good dietician, so that helps. In the meantime, I’m exhausted physically and mentally, and am looking forward to possibly getting some snow this weekend. That generally perks me up for a while. -
Getting My Spiritual Life In Order
Photo- mine
I’m not a ‘religioius’ person. Organized religion has become associated with hate, and I can’t ‘do’ that. I was raised in a church way back when they were still fairly inert when it came to discussing social issues. I had a good experience at church during my entire childhood and early adulthood, but when I moved to Texas after getting my nursing boards results back, I worked a LOT of weekends and nights, so church kind of fizzled out, though my beliefs are still strong… they’re just much more moderate and accepting of all kinds of people. I am a Christian, but I’m not going to judge others for their beliefs, or who they love, or anything else that isn’t my business. AS a Christian, I believe that if there’s no compassion involved, I want nothing to do with it.
Because of lifelong pain from humans, I tend to prefer animals and God. It’s much easier for me to believe in something that doesn’t want to hurt me, than a human, whose species has been the source of ongoing pain for as long as I can remember. With animals, there’s no agenda- they just want to live their lives doing their animal thing. With my dogs, they were more emotional support than any human has ever been, though a few have given it a good effort with what they had to work with.
SO, I tend to rely on spiritual things to get me through rough times. For me, that could be finding interesting rocks, the seasons, weather, stars, wild critters, or other things in nature. I feel like the outdoors is my ‘church’, and a favorite activity before becoming disabled was to take my camera out and take a bunch of photos of flowers, storms, tornados, rivers, hills, etc. I’m also getting a lot out of meditation books. They come in all ‘flavors’ with the choice of one’s own spiritual life being left up to each individual. Books like “Chicken Soup for The ______ Soul” are also ones I gravitate towards, along with some of the Hazelden meditation books, or ones like those. They have short chapters, and leave me thinking about a variety of things. They get me out of MYSELF, and looking at the much bigger picture around me. It’s critical for me to have an anchor, and that has always been God for me. But I see God through other things.
I used to be more rigid, when I was going to church as a kid. Thinking was fairly black and white (typical kid stuff), and since social issues weren’t really a church ‘thing’ back then, I had a LOT to learn after leaving home. When I moved to Texas, I encountered my first transvestite- a very nice man in the line at Walgreen’s where he was getting his make-up. I worked during the early years of AIDS, and met so many young men who would never leave the hospital back when everyone died. I got used to different cultures living in Central Texas, and for all of it, I’m so thankful. I met some amazing people of different races, beliefs, LGBTQ (one was a very brave trans man who was transitioning at a time when nobody was talking about it; he was a great co-worker), and other social interests. That was also all part of my spiritual growth. And I’ve stuck to the “everyone deserves respect and to be treated with dignity” way of thinking. I owe a debt of gratitude to the people who showed me how to be a better person from having met them.
I’m far from perfect as a Christian, mostly because perfect doesn’t exist. I’ve been human longer than I’ve been a Christian. I still swear (working on it, just for the sake of really identifying what I’m feeling, and not just blurting something out). I have a lot of work to do, and have realized that nobody knows everything about what God thinks or said. The Bible is important to me, but so is the context of social norms at the time it was written, the things are NOT spoken about, and the fact that nobody could record everything that went on in the thousands of years it was written by humans, inspired by God. But the bigger thing that I was taught is that being compassionate and decent towards ALL people is the most important. With the recent things going, on in my life, that has been challenging. But I’m still trying not to forget what was good. It’s been a minute since there was anything to be an example, but it was there. I’m not sure how real it was, but it was there for a little while, and when I was most unstable medically and nutritionally. I’ve still got to look for the good. -
Waves of Grief and Anger
Photo: Mine
Even though I fully understand that the manipulation and emotional control measures used by my ex-therapist is her pathological shit, it still deeply impacted me. She doesn’t seem to feel remorse about much, and sent me a message saying she hoped i didn’t turn all of the crap she threw at me against myself. WTF? She KNOWS my history of poor attachment and abandonment, and it seems her ‘kindness matters’ schtick is reserved for those who pay for it. I ran out of money, so my former therapist ran off for greener pastures, resulting in a month going by between calls, and always with some reason that didn’t stand up when she said what else she’d been doing. I’m guessing, based on 3 1/2 years of hearing various things from her, that she’s got more patients that are ripe for the squeezing (of parents’ bank accounts). God help them.
I’m still dealing with the grief of not being a success story with that particular therapist, but still hoping that I can do what so many have done, and do it with YouTube videos and the books by those whose channels I prefer. I’m still struggling a lot with what I see in the mirror, and to justify feeding that thing, but at the same time, I know I have to eat enough to stay out of acute renal failure. Chronic kidney disease from poor perfusion (related to decades of inadequate fluids, food, blood pressure, and heart rate) is lousy enough with the protein restrictions.
I’m grieving the person I saw early on in this fiasco, who WAS very attentive, kept in fairly regular contact, went above and beyond a few times when I was sick, or my blood sugar tanked and I was having trouble keeping it up, etc. That person was gone in January 2023. I completely understand that contact lessens with more stable intake and coping with the hell of learning to eat, but then don’t say that a call is coming when the schedule is already booked.
Don’t tell me about multiple (odd) medical issues, that aren’t taken care of, but while being “too ill” to even phone me, she’s off to London to see a patient, off to Canada to see a patient, assessing patients in various parts of Europe, attending conferences in Macedonia, and moving countries again… if she’s so damn sick, she’s certainly not slowed down by it.
When I’ve had medical issues come up, I’d send screenshots of lab work or test results. I can show proof of what is going on. I’ve had multiple chronic disorders since 1995, with pain, dysautonomia, fibromyalgia, epilepsy that was diagnosed in 1986, degenerative disc disease, degenerative joint disease, SI joint inflammation, gout, diabetes, kidney disease, and something I’m forgetting. The epilepsy diagnosis was ‘fine tuned’ diagnosis in about 2005 or so, with a 5 day video EEG that showed increased risk of seizures in the first stages of sleep- however I end up there… bed, low blood sugar, dysautonomia. There have been numerous times when what she told me about her medical stuff, or her daughter’s just hasn’t made sense. She’s not stupid, but I’m not sure if there was some misunderstanding from what the docs told her, or what. But 35 yrs of being an RN, with 20 of that working in various types of nursing (heavy on the ortho and neuro, as well as general med-surg), I can sniff out a skunk fairly well. But it could be that not being a medical person, it was a misunderstanding. All I know is that shit didn’t make sense.
I’ve been doing fairly well with getting food in to meet minimums with macros, and have for a while. I’ve also been using Liquid IV, in order to get enough sodium to keep my BP up (check with your doc before manipulating electrolytes, protein, fat, and carbs for your particular situation). Today, I even managed an apple-cinnamon bagel (scary) with some cream cheese and apple butter, and really liked it. It’s hard for me to say I like something, because my head insists that means I’m going to go nuts and eat an entire package. I was stuffed after that ‘normal’ (not massive) sized bagel and toppings- but I also know that it’s something that is filling, tastes good, and even though I was apprehensive, I got it down without a lot of inner dialogue about eating it.
Individually portioned products are also helpful, and feel safer (depending on what it is). And I’m trying some new things here and there, even if just a bite or two. I do like to try new things, but it’s still scary. Food shouldn’t evoke that kind of emotion. It’s simply a fuel to get my body through the day, as well as repair damage from decades of under-eating.
I am angry at the load of crap I was fed during the love-bombing, and believe none of it at this point. It all seems like one big scam. I feel so stupid for sticking around as long as I did. I think that by not having consistent contact, it’s supposed to make me more appreciative of any crumbs of attention she gave me, but I don’t operate like that. If someone doesn’t do what they say they will, I back off, and take notes. When the BS outweighs anything useful, I don’t let the door hit me in the ass on my way out. And I don’t think she gives a shit that she made things worse. She implied some kind of medical issue that was bad, but in her usual manner, she chooses words wisely that could be interpreted in multiple ways, including pure BS. If she really is sick this time, I don’t wish her any ill will. But I doubt everything she says now. Hopefully, the messages in the archived section of WhatsApp will stay quiet.
I also hope that my head calms down about this. She’s really not worth being upset about, and yet the waves of anger and grief still pop up. Writing helps. So, I write. -
Birthdays With An Eating Disorder
Photo- mine
Birthdays (or any holiday or gatherings around food) are painful for people with eating disorders. I’d hoped to do better this year, but fell short. The ‘plan’ was to order something I wanted without regards to the nutritional information (calories and macros in particular), but it didn’t quite turn out as I planned.
I did manage to get a 5″ cake, but it tasted of the phony ingredients in the sprinkles, so it was disappointing. I did eat about a cupcake’s worth of it. I got a side order of Popeye’s Red Beans & Rice, which I did get down, along with a biscuit. Then things went sideways. I wanted to have a single burger from Culver’s, and onion rings, but when I put those into my food tracker, I freaked out at the total “numbers”, even though I was below my eventual calorie range. It was too much of a jump from where I’ve been.
This goes on with holidays as well. I’ve got a friend who always invites me to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter meals with her family, and has for years. I have a lot of reasons for not going that don’t involve my panic at eating around other people, or other eating disorder freak out triggers. The dysautonomia makes temperature regulation away from home difficult, and requires that I have an ice vest and extra inserts (so another big bag to lug around). My stomach also reacts to hot food, and that can be rough away from home if it sends the meal careening towards the ‘back door’ in a hurry, which isn’t great at someone else’s home where more people will be using the same bathroom. And hot food can trigger a full blown autonomic ‘episode’ where I end up passed out from my BP dropping too low. I also can’t have various foods in ‘normal’ amounts because of diabetes and kidney disease, or much animal ‘flesh’ protein because of gout. I don’t like a lot of holiday food (pumpkin pie, sweet potatoes, cooked carrots, etc). So, I suck at being a guest. I don’t like to stick out as some weirdo.
The eating disorder is also a factor. I feel too fat to eat around other people, even though I think nothing of someone larger than I am (or smaller) eating whatever they want. It’s a holiday- have fun ! Eat the goodies ! But not me. My eating disorder ‘voice’ tells me that when I’m small enough, THEN I’ll ‘deserve’ to enjoy food– not just put something in to make the “numbers” look good. I haven’t eaten around anyone (and that was in the car after initial COVID vaccines) since 2021. I haven’t eaten IN a restaurant since 2017, and that was with my uncle. I know nobody is paying attention to what I’m doing when they’re out having a nice time, but I still feel like what I see in the mirror isn’t deserving of food. Not knowing the exact nutritional information is also hard- some of that is necessary for insulin dosing and not exceeding daily protein amounts, but some is just panic.
I want to be able to just enjoy a holiday like a ‘normal’ person, but I haven’t been to a holiday dinner with family or friends since about 2002. I would go after meals and hang out for a while, but always skipped the food, using the dysautonomia as an excuse (and it is a valid one), But the food part is what scared me more. I grew up going to big family Swedish Christmas Eve parties, and love those memories. I try to get some of those foods to have at home, alone.
Birthday is a wrap, so on to what to do about Thanksgiving. I’m thinking about doing a Cornish game hen- small enough not to be intimidating, as well as not having as much waste because i can’t eat a lot of it (I can freeze the extra). Maybe some stuffing. I WANT to eat that. I hope I do better in a few weeks. I am determined to get well. It’s just slow going, with trial and error. I don’t feel like I necessarily failed today- but I do think I’m learning how to minimize panic, while eating things that are still scary. The cake may have sucked, but I still ate it. Next time, I’ll get something different. Live and learn. -
Eating Disorders & Age
Photo- mine
When I first was diagnosed with anorexia in 1981, it was thought that eating disorders were something that only impacted teens and those in their early 20s. That is absolutely NOT accurate. More and more women AND men, from all backgrounds, socioeconomic levels, and ages are being diagnosed with eating disorders. Some were never diagnosed accurately earlier in their lives, but many are being diagnosed for the first time in middle age, or older. Only %6 of those with eating disorders are medically underweight (according to the highly flawed BMI chart; someone can be within the “normal’ weight range, and be underweight for their body type). Every 52 minutes someone dies as a result of an eating disorder. More than 27 people per day are lost to eating disorders. Someone’s mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son, cousin, aunt, uncle, grandparent…. gone.
General statistics on eating disorders-
https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/statistics/#general-eating-disorder-statistics
Eating disorders in older adults-
https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/bjpsych-advances/article/disordered-eating-in-older-people-some-causes-and-treatments/0F154FFC05FD133ACAC04A19ECF3258F
There is a huge disparity between age groups as far as correct diagnosis and treatment, with those who aren’t underweight being essentially ignored. I’ve had chronic medical complications from over 5 decades of disordered eating and restriction, with many of the symptoms of starvation (low blood pressure and heart rate for long enough that my kidneys are damaged, dehydration, feeling cold, delayed gastric emptying, etc), and not one doctor ever questioned my eating habits at the time, even though I’ve got anorexia in my medical history. My nephrologist was the one who identified that my chronic kidney disease was NOT from diabetes as was assumed, but from hypo-perfusion of my kidneys. He also looked at lab work that is routinely done for kidney patients, and with certain things being low, he told me that the only reason those labs were at those levels is from not eating enough. He gave me 2 weeks to eat more, get more fluids in, and a lab recheck or he was going to hospitalize me for medical issues related to restricted eating. I have been in acute renal failure twice in 4 1/2 years from restriction. I’m in my early 60s.
I worked at a nursing home in the 90s, and there was a lady there that starved her way down to 50 pounds, in spite of a lengthy list of interventions. She was in the facility along with her husband, and they shared a ‘room plus’ (a sitting area outside of the bedroom area) on the wing with the most independent residents. She was eventually transferred to a psych hospital (only place that would take an elderly patient) in a larger city about 60 miles away, after hours of talking to EMS transport (only medical transport we had in that town then), her psychiatrist (nice guy), and the family. Because of her age, she was given some wonky diagnosis that really didn’t fit. She came back about 25 pounds heavier (she was petite to start with), and lost some weight again, though not as severely as before. She eventually died. I don’t remember the official cause of death, but I’ve always thought that she was blown off in regard to anorexia nervosa because of her age.
I’ve seen several interviews of anorexic middle aged, or older, women. Some didn’t have any eating disorder history until a spouse/partner died, children moved away, a family tragedy, severe illnesses, or other traumatic events. Others had been anorexic in earlier life, but had decades of time when their eating was stable, and they weren’t losing weight. And a few had developed anorexia in their teens, and had never had a period of stable eating and appropriate weights. You can search YouTube for ‘eating disorders in older adults’ or ‘ middle-aged eating disorders’ for videos on this.
The genetic component is also interesting to me. I’ve got a paternal aunt who has been anorexic since her teens. She must be in her late 70s now. I’ve never met her (I was adopted but found my biological family), but have seen many photos from across her lifespan, and her diagnosis of ‘late onset schizophrenia’ doesn’t match with the degree of interaction or engaged affect in photos (I worked with many schizophrenic patients when I was a RN). But she is very petite, and a close family member of hers said she’d been anorexic for as long as she’d known her. She wasn’t ‘scary thin’, so again, my gut reaction is that her eating disorder damaged her brain because of nutritional deficiencies that have been in place since her teens, as well as how long she’d been engaging in restrictive eating in general. She could easily pass as someone who is just ‘smaller framed’- and with her age, nobody questioned her nutritional state in regards to her symptoms. Who knows what kind of psychiatric meds she’s been put on, when it’s possible she might need nutritional support.
It’s pretty common in older age to have some type of nutritional deficiencies as appetites change with age, along with grief and depression that occur following the loss of family and friends. There are many vitamin and mineral deficiencies that can cause or mimic mental illnesses. It’s important not to start supplements without talking to your primary care provider. But it’s also something to be aware that nutrition impacts mental health. The best ‘fix’ for nutritional deficiencies is better nutrition!
Nutritional deficiencies and mental health-
https://doctor.ndtv.com/nutrition/9-mental-health-issues-nutrient-deficiencies-it-could-indicate-8812494Vitamin B 12 deficiency can cause psychotic and dementia like symptoms. It can be reversed if treated in time. If not, it can be permanent. Vitamin B 12 deficiency can also be a big issue in vegetarian and vegan diets in all ages (which can be used by those with eating disorders in order to avoid higher calorie protein sources). As someone who was a RN for 35 years, I do not advise getting B 12 shots at shops in malls, that give them without medical assessment or lab work. The strength of the injections may not be what is appropriate for everyone. Talk to your doctor if you suspect any nutritional deficiencies, and get the appropriate lab work. There are places that will do lab work without a MD order if your doctor dismisses your concerns; you can search for these online in your area.
Find a lab-
https://www.ultalabtests.com/?msclkid=49a2b9308ef414bdf2e5d022da946273&utm_source=bing&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=Generic%7CNonbrand%7CBroad&utm_term=medical%20laboratory%20tests&utm_content=Ad%20group%201
Vitamin B 12 and mental health-
https://www.newstarget.com/2025-09-16-vitamin-b12-deficiency-overlooked-cause-psychiatric-symptoms.html -
I Saw My Dietician Today- My Head Is Changing! *insert happy dance*
Photo- mine (and blurry)
My dietician asked me something today, and I hadn’t even realized that I’ve been doing it for about 6-8 months. She asked if I still freaked out about having to eat X, Y, or Z, but knew that I needed to do it because it was the healthy thing to do. Yup. I do !! I AM thinking differently. I think the YouTube videos are sinking in, at least “enough” to make a difference. I knew I’d been able to put enough in a bowl to get food in- but not paid attention to my thinking around it. It has been just a chore to get done. But there is the focus on not letting carbs drop too much to strain kidneys.Since Ex-T has been MIA for nearly all of the last 5 months (and sketchy consistency before then x 2+ years), I know it has nothing to do with her. I still have trouble ‘feeding’ that thing I see in the mirror, but I know that to keep my kidneys from going into acute failure again, I have to get minimums in of protein, carbs, and fat. That’s the ‘loophole’ in my head – keeping my kidneys going. And Ex-T’s absence and lack of phone calls actually made has forced me to figure it out on my own when I’m in the moment. She tended to want people to come to her and ask for more contact, and I’m not into that- either do what is discussed, or quit saying that any phone call is coming. SO, her absence has made me stronger.
I’m still stuck when it comes to eating something because it sounds good, but I can consistently get the macros in, even if the assortment is a bit odd (breakfast tomorrow- cheese, crackers, strawberries). While I still fear gaining weight, and don’t enjoy eating or food prep, I’m still getting it done. And my weight has been stable since regaining what I’d lost, and is going down slowly again. I am wanting to lose quite a bit of weight, but I don’t want to go backwards. This has been hell to get to this point, and I’m nowhere near comfortable with food sitting in me.
Body composition has also changed for the better. I used to have visible tendons behind my knees from muscle atrophy- which is why I have a wheelchair for larger areas. The tendons aren’t visible (not thrilled with that if I’m honest, but at the same time, I know that muscle atrophy isn’t good). My right bicep and both calf muscles were essentially gone. They’re back, though I still have too much fat. I have little bits of hair on my arms for the first time since it all fell out during chemo in 2010. Protein has been an issue for decades d/t prep and cooking time, and the changes in how much muscle has grown back is noticeable. I’ve never eaten this much protein for this long in my life (60 grams/day per kidney disease limits).
It took me until tonight to realize what that question (and answer) meant in the overall picture of recovering. I’ve got a toehold now ! I don’t cry when I open the fridge door and have to choose something. There are days when I really don’t want food, but I make something happen, even if it’s just snacky stuff or a protein bar. My dietician talked about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (not allowed when I was a kid) because of limited protein options, quick/easy prep, and the healthy fats in peanut butter. Even 4-5 months ago, I would have freaked, but I think it’s OK to try. I know I like them, and especially with Aldi, they are very affordable which is huge now. It’s all about how i portion it.
I’m pretty pleased with this and at the same time, it’s scary. Getting ‘too’ comfortable with food is still a threat in my head. I still manipulate the numbers so I don’t go over my ‘quotas’. If I eat something unplanned, I redo the rest of the day’s food plan. BUT, at least there is a shift towards the good, and getting well. That is the most encouraging thing that’s gone on in 3 1/2 years. . -
It Started Out Pretty Well Before the Breadcrumbing
Photo- mine, turkey tail mushrooms
I have to be fair about how ‘therapy’ was – not just the bad ending. It started out well. I wasn’t in good shape, after not eating solid food for about a week, and in the middle of ’round 2′ in 2 years of losing weight rapidly. The first part of the relapse started in May 2021. When my labs came back, my kidneys were in lousy shape – as in getting used to the idea of a transplant list. I was in acute renal failure from cutting carbs too much, breaking down muscle that my kidneys had to deal with circling around in my bloodstream. I got out of that by increasing carbs, but still restricted. Then I restricted more, but kept ‘enough’ carbs on board not to make my kidneys worse. I’ve had chromic kidney disease for about 8 years, from inadequate blood pressure and heart rate along with dehydration after decades of restricted eating.
I’ve been through enough relapses (vs. my ‘normal’ restricting that I thought was fairly normal) to know when I’m getting into trouble, and it didn’t take long when I started losing again. Over the past 4 1/2 years, I’ve lost/gained/lost/gained a total 220 pounds (45 down/up, then 65 down/up). That’s hard on a body. When I was having more and more difficulty with just getting in my 500-600 calories/day and unable to ‘snap out of it’ (labs were stable) I decided to contact the eating disorder therapist I’d seen on Facebook, after first hearing about her on 20/20 in the late 90s. After I’d found her on FB, I told myself that if she was still treating people, AND had an opening, I’d take that as a sign that it was meant to be. I also thought there was no way all three of those would happen, but they did.
By the time I had my first phone session with Ex-T, I was barely even drinking enough water. I was getting just enough in, but that was about it after I’d cut the tube feeding formula out 5 days earlier. Ex-T was at an airport flying home, and she talked me through an 8 oz bottle of kefir. I’m not sure how long it took, but it was hard. My head was so against anything with calories, and it was a fight to get every sip down. She had a connecting flight, and called me from the next airport, and again when she got home, like she said she would. To distract me, she sent a video of some deer she’d seen near where she’d been staying. She was very kind and patient, just as I’d seen on the TV show.
For the next several weeks, she called a few times a day to check in and tell me what to eat. That was very helpful, because it took the ‘blame’ of eating away from me, so my head wouldn’t go after me as much. It was also difficult, because I wasn’t used to some of the foods she wanted me to eat (though she never told me I had to eat anything that I really didn’t like) and the amounts were not what I was used to. She didn’t asked me to eat a lot at one time, except for once (2 whole bagels and cream cheese). I just wasn’t used to eating what normal people did, because I never knew what that was like. From that, we both realized that I had no clue about what normal eating was- I don’t remember it. So, she was trying to undo 5 decades of food restriction, whether imposed or when I went off the rails during the summer of 1981 and haven’t been the same since.
Refeeding syndrome was a risk, and both Ex-T and my dietician said the same thing. Ex-T was in charge of food, but I had to see someone local, in person, in order for Ex-T to accept me as a patient, which was prudent. I’d seen the dietician a year or two before then, so had a bit of history with her, and knew I could work with here on this end of things. I hadn’t heard of refeeding syndrome, but looked up some stuff on it, though retaining information was a problem, and still isn’t back to my ‘normal’ of reading 3-4 novels a week. Ex-T gave me firm instructions that I was not to eat anything she didn’t tell me to eat, and if I wanted something else, I needed to check with her, and this was to keep me safe at that point. It wasn’t about controlling my food (or me) as much as it was to keep me from getting into potentially fatal complications.
I ended up with a concussion about a week or so after moving from my childhood home to an apartment, and that was problematic because of vertigo, nausea, memory issues, and constant ringing in my ears (still have constant ‘cicadas’ chirping nonstop 3 1/2 years later). That move was about a week or so after the first phone calls. Then, there were a bunch of infections and a sepsis scare, and she was very attentive with calls and messages. My blood pressure and heart rate were still erratic, and I was on activity restriction limited to being up for 10 minutes three times a day except for getting food or showering. My dietician said the same thing, without talking to Ex-T, so that helped that they were on the same page. I passed out a lot, and also have seizures (diagnosed when I was 22), which were more unstable. I was a mess. Being conscious was never guaranteed.
For about 5 months, if Ex-T said she was going to call, she generally did. I knew that the contact would decrease as I got more stable, and was fully on board with that. There were some humorous conversations and messages, and the relaxed ‘tone’ to the ‘therapy’ was pleasant. I had ‘homework’ assignments, to give background info on family, food history, trauma history, medical issues, etc. Those first 5-5 1/2 months were fine. I didn’t have any ‘red flags’ going off about anything. I had hope that I was going to get better.
Then, Ex-T asked me if I could pay double for more intensive contact for 6 months. I agreed, hoping that it would cut time off of the back end of the estimated 2-2 1/2 years the five stages would take to work through. Within a couple of weeks, the first signs of trouble started. Ex-T had gone back to Europe for the winter, and was working ‘in person’ with several patients who were further along in their therapy with her. I heard nothing from her for a couple of weeks (and was in chaos with what to eat). I finally contacted another patient who I’d been in phone contact with for a few months, and she told me that things had been very hectic, and a guy from Oceania had just shown up at the airport. When I did talk to Ex-T, she told me he was only 29kg (about 64 pounds), and she couldn’t turn him away. Turns out, he weighed more than that when he got there… 29kg was his lowest ever weight.
I have a hard time believing that someone just showed up at the airport to start ‘live-in’ treatment from another hemisphere without there being some planning involved. I believe she knew about this when she asked me to pay double. My heart sank, and the first very serious doubts kicked in. I understood not wanting to turn away someone that ill- I had no problem with that. But I did have trouble paying for more intensive time that was sporadic at best, and didn’t start for several weeks. I asked Ex-T if we should postpone my more intensive ‘therapy’ until the guy was more stable. She said no; she could do both. But it didn’t turn out that way. I never really got past that point in the ‘five stages’ in her program (stage 2), but I was so ashamed to send photos of what I’d eaten (how she checked what and how much I was having), or have someone on the phone talking me through food when she had the 64 pound guy there. It messed with my head a lot.
I was stalled with food for months after that, and then ended up with issues related to gout medication, so I had to change the types of protein I had. That was just one more thing that focused on food and medical stuff. All of that makes eating disorder recovery so much worse. In the past, I didn’t have to weigh out protein or limit (severely at times) how much protein food I ate. Even being diabetic wasn’t that big of an issue since I was diet controlled for 12 years. I’ve been on insulin for 18 years now. So, I wasn’t supposed to focus on numbers, but had to for insulin dosing, kidney disease, and gout flare prevention. Ex-T was agreeable to me managing the amounts of protein since I was here alone, and knew what I needed to do. She would still give input about other foods, at least for a while.
At any rate, the first 5-6 months were difficult only in that eating was so miserable, but not because of Ex-T. I was sick a lot. I passed out fairly often (have had a ‘safety routine’ when I first get out of bed, to avoid hitting the floor). My head was constantly upset about how much I was eating, even though I knew that for a ‘normal’ person, the portions were more snack-sized (though had 5-6 of them a day). I knew she wasn’t asking me to eat too much. My stomach was a mess with bloating, so that didn’t help. I was (and still am) using an NG tube to be sure I got enough fluids in. That started just to get me through a bladder infection, but it’s still in 3 1/2 years later (I change the tube every 4-6 weeks, and was trained as a RN on how to do that; do NOT attempt that if you don’t know what you’re doing- you could literally drown from it). I am doing better drinking fluids normally, but on ‘bad bloat’ days, it’s still hard. I want to remember more of the OK time. The lousy ending is still very raw, so I’m struggling. But it wasn’t horrible at the beginning. And there were some OK months with fairly regular contact after the guy was more stable, when I was supposed to be doing more intensive stuff. There were many calls that didn’t happen, and that got much worse a couple of years ago and continued getting more sporadic to the tune of not getting a call for a month (more than once or twice), but I didn’t know I was being breadcrumbed at the time.
It saddens me a lot that someone whose views I once respected so much became such a source of pain and stress. Trust is gone, and has been shaky for a while. This was a last shot. If I can’t get it together with my dietician and the YouTube recovery videos, I will never be free of the food wars in my head. I can deal with getting enough macros in each day, because my head ‘allows’ for keeping my kidneys from a third run-in with acute kidney failure- that’s been a loophole for several years.
I saw my dietitian today for the first time in 6 months (long summer of biopsies and tests), and she thinks I seem stronger mentally after ending contact/therapy with Ex-T, after I said I felt stronger. She is also checking into the YouTube content creators who share information based on their experiences with being recovered, and believe in a ‘no diet’ mentality. Single serving size packages of foods (frozen dinners, hummus, guacamole, fruit, etc) are also helpful for not being as scary. I’m no longer having to follow more food restricted by Ex-T, so my veggie intake has gone up (especially eggplant parmesan entrees, and bell peppers for a chickpea/feta/veggie/olive salad). So I am moving forward.I don’t have the hope I once did, but I’m not giving up.
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Grieving Hope of Recovery With Ex-Therapist
Photo- mine
It might sound weird to grieve for something that never happened. But I’d dreamed of getting well with someone who seemed to have figured out how to get the eating disorder voice to go quiet for good. She has helped a lot of people, but it seems that she loses interest quickly when the money runs out- even though she said she’d still keep me (after paying $32,700K USD- the agreed monthly amount before she accepted me). The calls petered out, and there was always an excuse. But what hurt the most is basically being blown off while I was still paying. I know that sounds stupid. I’m skeptical of a LOT normally. I’m not one to believe most people after so many violations of trust in my life, or taking advantage/targeting me because I want to be helpful or ‘good’ to others. But I felt I could trust her. I was very, very wrong.
The ongoing and lengthy absences with no warning, constant excuses (I don’t even know what things to believe are true or not), telling me other patients’ private information, and calls that never came just reinforced the feeling of worthlessness, with no acknowledgment of that whatsoever from her. When other patients did something she didn’t like, I was told by her that they were difficult or were somehow worth more of her time, when I did what I could not to cause problems. And that was a huge mistake. I needed squeaky wheels to be acknowledged- like she needed the patients to swarm to her for contact. I don’t do that 4th grade crap. This whole thing has been traumatic and painful. It’s hard when hope gets blown off by a person who is supposed to be a ‘last resort’. Her promises meant nothing.
I wanted the freedom to not think about food and losing weight that has haunted me since I was 6 years old. I wanted to be able to have something just because I like it- not because it’s specifically to fit into the macro numbers. I wanted my head to be ‘rewired’ so that I had a healthier relationship with food, so I could be more social with friends, and get my body repaired. It’s been through a lot.
But those dreams aren’t dead (they are with that therapist), and I still hope to get well via YouTube eating disorder recovery videos that all promote basically the same thing. Don’t restrict food. Period. Weight will even out when the body knows it’s going to get consistent food, and doesn’t have to hang on to calories for fear of not getting enough. I still have trouble with that because I’m not thin- but I have to try something, and with the numbers of people who have recovered with this method (intuitive eating and feast v famine mentality and body response), there has to be something to it. And aside from buying the books that Tabitha Farrar and Elisa Oras have written, it’s free. I also have my IRL dietician, who is very helpful, and knows I’m struggling. She also always responds to questions via email. If she’s out of the office, I get a notification that she’ll contact me when she’s back.I am hoping I have the nerve to have a piece of birthday cake this year- kind of a celebration of being free from the psychological manipulation and control by someone who isn’t worthy of such power, as well as not doing what my head says about being too ‘bad’ to deserve a bit of cake. Little goals.
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When Bingeing Is Self-Preservation: Extreme Hunger
Image- Texas Monthly issue on BBQ (not sure which restaurant this is from)
For those who don’t understand the body’s primary goal of keeping us alive, bingeing might not make a lot of sense. But when someone has been restricting for any period of time, if the body senses that there’s an urgent need to offset any calorie deficits, it does a few things. One is the obsessive thinking about food. Another is focused on feeding others. And when the mental cues to eat are ignored, an almost out of body thing happens… it’s like a mandate to eat. For some, it’s a lot. For others, it’s uncomfortable if it’s not planned meal plan food. But the ultimate purpose is to get calories into a body running on empty. Extreme hunger is normal after a period of restriction.
Tabitha Farrar talks about the feast and famine responses in her book “Rehabilitate, Rewire, Recover!” (second edition is out now). It goes back to cave man days, when food was sporadic and seasonal. The people in some areas were more nomadic to help source food, but even if people stayed in the same basic area, people ate when food was plentiful to prepare for times of less food.
I know from nursing school that homeostasis is the goal of the body at all times. Physical hunger cues can be trashed with eating disorders, because they’ve been ignored for so long. Mental cues and insomnia are other ‘kicks in the butt’ to look for food- and again are often ignored. Extreme hunger is like a tornado siren on loudspeaker when the body must. Have. Food.
The fear of “bingeing”/eating and possible weight gain is incredibly hard to deal with. Anything that could trigger weight gain is avoided- until it can’t be. It is just trying to get calories into a starving body, no matter how long it takes, or how long it lasts. I’m still at a place where I resist any mental or physical hunger if it falls outside of planned food. I want that to change, and I’m also very afraid of it. Not being thin, or even ‘normal weight’, I have trouble justifying feeding what I see in the mirror. I still don’t feel I deserve food, and the chaos with the “expert” isn’t helping, since she was restricting what and how much I ate when she was in control over my food. When I get either mental or physical hunger, I panic.
But, it does help to hear multiple accounts from people on YouTube who had extreme hunger (often mistaken for bingeing) and that it didn’t last forever. Some gained considerable amounts of weight, and then settled into THEIR body’s healthy weight- which often has nothing in common with that stupid BMI chart. Extreme hunger can be physical or mental. Both are valid, and the current recommendations are to honor that by eating what your body is asking for, as much as it needs. By replenishing the stores, the hunger dissipates over time once things are again in balance with needs and energy requirements. From what I’ve read, the time this takes varies with each person.
While I haven’t read a lot about binge eating disorder, there are those who believe that the excessive eating is really a response to restriction in those folks as well. That does make sense. I’ve known several people who don’t eat that much to support their weight, but who describe not being able to control their hunger once it hits. -
When ‘Self-Worth’ Therapist Seems To See Me As Disposable
Photo- mine
A big part of the eating disorder therapy with my now ex-therapist was based on increasing self worth. There were a lot of terms of endearment and declarations that I was loved. But words are really, really cheap when they’re not followed up with actions. I feel even less worthy of food or contact with other people now, after being breadcrumbed and manipulated. I was used for payments, with nothing consistent in return.
How are the following supposed to help feeling ‘worth’ something?
– more phone calls not made than made after saying she’d call– telling me how she was spending time with other patients or flying to other countries to see them when I didn’t even get a stupid phone call
– being told that she was making food for other patients at her house while I was barely able to open the fridge without breaking down in tears
– telling me I could call if I wasn’t OK, after a message that wasn’t responded to, but then declining the call and telling me she’d get back to me “if possible” (she’d gotten off the phone with me before when others had emergencies).
– spending over a year recording the audio book for one of her yet to be published books (working on one since blog dated in 2013), contacting me now and then, but nothing consistent
– the whole asking for money for personal reasons, and then greatly reducing contact when I couldn’t send more, after she said she’d keep me on when I told her I couldn’t pay past last December. She asked for another year, knowing I couldn’t pay- and then had very little to do with me when she knew I was going through some serious medical issues- during which time she asked for more money for personal reasons, telling me to sell things. I didn’t have the money to send, and no phone contact from her for a month after that.
– telling me she’d send information, food lists, etc- and not doing them, aside from the food list that took over a year to receive (and she was supposed to be approving what I ate).
– telling me i was like a daughter to her, and that she wished she’d raised me. I was better off with the one I had, even with the abuse and neglect.
– wanting to have control over food again when she couldn’t even be trusted to call when she said she would, and disappeared for up to a month at a time with very few, and brief messages– sending me the wrong person’s messages- like she was cramming more than one of us into some ‘time slot’ at the same time
– making all kinds of comments that she couldn’t back up, or that sounded very strange (referring to her and her daughter’s medical issues). Hearing them as a RN, many didn’t make any sense.– wondering what she’ll say to others about me after she told me thinks about other patients that I should never have heard
– knowing that her words were worth very little, and that I was just another name on a to-do list, when she got around to it. I have no reason to believe anything she told me about anything
How do I work on recovery when I feel worth even less now? I know it’s ‘her stuff’, but it impacted me badly. How can I warn others? Or will they just do what I did, and hope that she truly was how she came across in the media? How does someone use another person’s vulnerability and desperation to get well as some kind of psychological control/manipulation vehicle? What therapist has such low integrity to ask patients for money that isn’t part of the payment agreement FOR therapy? What kind of person does that? I guess one consolation is that I’m not like her. I do get comfort from that. I just wish those still in her talons knew that they were being used. -
Figuring Out Little Steps To Quiet the Eating Disorder “Voice”
PHOTO- mine; window in the kitchen at my childhood home. Designed by Tom Heflin and made by Frank Hautkamp
It is so hard to justify eating when I see what is in the mirror. Logically, I know that food is fuel, but for as long as I can remember, it was seen as something to be avoided at any cost, and the value of nutrition was never in the mix. As an adult, and nurse for 35 years, I had to take a nutrition class (skimpy on useful info) and learned more disease-specific nutrition issues during nursing school. And none of that ever seemed like anything I deserved. Even when I had lost weight prior to college, and was at the lower end of what looked OK in my body type, I still had to compensate for any calories consumed.
SO, I’m trying to find ways to go against my head, but not add weight. I’m back to my pre-relapse weight (again), and some things I’ve read said that it’s more likely my weight will stabilize as long as I don’t start to restrict more again. That is so hard. Eating is uncomfortable physically, and the shame of eating is still strong. I get away with getting food in if it’s going to keep my kidneys from going AWOL, but that’s about it. Everything else is a constant reminder from my eating disorder voice (head) that i’m not good enough to eat food I enjoy. There has to be a purpose for the food to justify it.
My dietician told me it’s OK to have something once in a while just because I want it- no rules other than safety with the chronic medical issues that dictate some food rules that I can’t eliminate- but hope to get more settled. I will be doing a pre-holiday grocery list to get later in November, and I decided on Peppermint Stick Ice Cream, which is seasonal here, and a favorite of mine. My head is already chastising me for something so indulgent, and yet I don’t plan on eating a lot of it, but being able to taste something I really used to enjoy. It’s been at least 12-13 years since i had it, and like usual, I had some and then threw the rest away. This year, I plan to divide it into ‘safe’ portions, and put them in airtight cups to eat during the remainder of the cooler months. That sounds so stupid to have to plan ice cream like that. But it’s either that, or I can’t bring myself to eat it.
Getting fresh fruits and veggies has been good again. I have to be careful that the low calorie nature of produce doesn’t require increasing other foods to the point that volume becomes very uncomfortable. It seems there’s always something physical that keeps the mental aspect on a rollercoaster trajectory, and that can be exhausting.
One of my favorite meals (now that there are no external ‘bans’ on any foods or food groups) is a chickpea salad. I combine canned chickpeas, kalamata olives, feta cheese, red/yellow/orange bell peppers (any one or combo), cucumber, red onion, a few croutons, and a Greek vinaigrette. It’s super simple, and good for a few days, so prep is maximized. The croutons and dressing go on last minute. Lettuce doesn’t really have enough nutrition to justify the expense, so my salad is made from salad toppings. I like meat, but with gout vegetarian options are safer for avoiding gout flares, and I like the fresh veggies in this. It’s taken a long time for my head to let me say something is a favorite. ‘Liking’ something has been too close to ending up on some wild binge, though I haven’t really binged for a long time (decades). I’ve eaten things I didn’t plan on, and that freaked me out, but nothing compared to 1981 when I only had an apple or 1/2 baked potato each day during the week, and then went nuts on the weekend.
The little steps are things most people never think about, and that’s great for them. For me, making the jump from shame to viewing food as fuel seems like climbing Mt Everest on my hands and knees. To ‘want’ something is to risk eating something that has been condemned since childhood. And I still have trouble seeing food as a ‘need’, even though my body (kidneys in particular) have made it clear that they’re fed up with running on fumes. In some ways, the acute kidney failure twice in 4 1/2 years was a wake up call that I could deal with because it wasn’t requiring that I feed myself, but consume enough to protect my kidneys. That probably sounds whacko to ‘normal’ people, but at this point, I’ll take whatever sinks in that leads towards being healthier. At my age, I don’t have more time for failed attempts. -
Why Did It Take So Long To Get Out of A Therapy Relationship That Wasn’t Working ?
Photo- mine
I’ve written about it taking nearly 3 years before I ended therapy with my online eating disorder therapist AFTER I felt something ‘off’. It’s been so difficult to leave- partly because I’m out $33K USD, and am not much better off than I was when I started- so hoped I could still eek something out of ‘therapy’. The other part of it is that this has been kind of like an indoctrination, along with some Stockholm Syndrome-like reactions (not full-blown, but being sucked into the drama). It’s sort of like how I imagine grooming in a cult or sex-trafficking. It’s not all at once, and when it’s happening, it doesn’t seem that problematic. But it’s a calculated form of manipulation that is often used to make future exploitation easier, and to get psychological control.
https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/22387-stockholm-syndrome
https://neurolaunch.com/emotional-grooming/
Everything started out feeling acceptable, and I felt accepted. There were lots of terms of endearment, and even a nickname she’d use with me. The interactions at first were focused on refeeding safely (even when overweight, it’s possible to have potentially life-threatening complications when eating resumes). I was in contact with the therapist a few times a day for a while, so she could let me know what to eat next, and see where I was with everything. It got a bit more complicated when I ended up with a concussion, and slept for about a week. But for the first 5-6 months, there weren’t any red flags. That’s the basis for being able to BE groomed. It’s got to seem within normal boundaries, and there has to be ‘enough’ trust. I wanted to believe that she was good.
During those earlier months, I did go from eating nothing for about a week prior to officially starting therapy (food is first with recovery, obviously), after having been doing tube feeding – either supplements or nearly all nutrition- via NG tube (tube from nose to stomach- do NOT try to do that if you’re not trained- or you can literally drown with whatever is in the feeding bag). Before therapy started, I’d restricted down to about 500 calories a day, and ended up in acute renal failure. Eventually, I was eating some solid foods- mostly yogurt, oatmeal, hummus, a few crackers, kefir, and eventually some fruits and veggies, as well as fish (until gout reared its ugly head). And, it also became obvious rather quickly that I’d never known ‘normal’ with food, and this was basically who I thought I was- I couldn’t separate the eating disorder ‘voice’ (like loud thoughts) from myself. Things were more ‘stuck’ than I imagined. And I hated having to eat as much as I was told to, even though the portions weren’t excessive. They just were sent to a stomach that had been in retirement for decades.
Then I was asked if I could pay double for more intensive therapy for 6 months. I was hoping that would shave time off of the back end of therapy, so I agreed. Within 2 weeks of that, I couldn’t reach my therapist at all. I think it was about 10 days before I reached another patient that I was in contact with as a supplementary support person. She told me that a “kid” (everyone is a ‘kid’ which reinforces the authority of the therapist) from Oceania had shown up at the airport, weighing about 64 pounds, and my therapist was tied up with him at restaurants getting him to eat. I was never notified by my therapist until a couple of weeks later- and it’s hard for me to believe that he just showed up with his mom, from another hemisphere, and it wasn’t planned. I think she knew he was coming when she asked me for double the therapy fee.
That’s when the “not right” feeling started. I also didn’t need to know his weight- I wanted to be underweight. I understood logically that he needed more intense help, since I understood triage as a RN. But to ask for double the money, for no contact for a couple of weeks, and then a bit more contact for a while, before going back to erratic calls. She said she’d call more often than she actually did. I even asked if we should postpone the intensive time (that went to the skinny guy), and was told no- she could handle both. Not the case. I basically felt like I’d been shoved into a dark corner, and only brought into light when it was convenient. The ‘intensive’ was an intensive drain on my bank account, but I still wanted to get well so badly. Being terrified and desperate makes for poor decisions on my part. I cried a LOT every time I sent in a payment, having to decide if a bit of contact was better than no contact. (Hindsight: NO).
Things settled into an “irregular regular” set up. I knew that phone calls may or may not come, so I stopped putting off laundry, taking out the trash, getting the mail, taking a shower, getting groceries delivered, etc so I wouldn’t miss calls. Food was still very difficult to manage on my own, so hearing that 2 “kids” living with her were getting stuff handed to them multiple times a day while I was in tears every time I opened the fridge door was more than difficult. It felt like rubbing my face in not having more money to ‘deserve’ more contact. In the beginning, she agreed to the price for one call/week and the ability to email or message 24/7. I’m not the sort to want to contact someone when i know they’re busy, and she knew that. Later, she told me when she was flying to different countries to ‘see kids’ when I was waiting for a stupid phone call. It was more than painful. And yet, there was enough to still think she was at least still a little bit invested in helping me. She had me hooked on her bait of empty promises.
My therapist then moved from one continent to another, and during that time, we had some contact, and I still had contact with the other patient. Once settled in the next country, calls were happening, but there wasn’t much substance to a lot of them. I started to feel a bit like I was the comic relief for the therapist’s benefit. We did a few actual therapy sessions, but I don’t remember anything that made a difference as far as getting better. That’s all I wanted- was to get better. Not have an international buddy.
There was always some reason for missed calls…. sick (that was frequent), fell asleep, emergency, migraine, etc. ALWAYS some excuse. OR she’d fall asleep when she was on the phone with me. I asked her repeatedly NOT to tell me she was going to call until she was ready to talk. One night (she liked calling me later when everyone else was asleep), she told me she’d call in 15 minutes, and couldn’t manage to stay awake for that. Then DON’T TELL ME there’s going to be a call that ends up triggering more “not worth the time” stuff.
Sure, she asked how I was- and she was very good at listening, which kept things feeling like they were “normal” therapy…. except when the calls not made exceeded the ones that actually were made. There were times when some emergency call would come in that she had to take, so I was the one who felt shorted out by contact going to someone else AGAIN. For a therapy that is supposed to build self-worth, not even having a phone call made when others were living with her, or with whom she visited in other countries, was a big blow to any self-worth. I was already running on fumes in this department.
When the ex-therapist started recording her next book, that took her out of commission for about a year. I did hear from her “enough” to seem like things COULD still move forward, but I was having more doubts. Again, the ‘crumbs’ of contact kept me engaged while allowing her to do other things. But I knew if she’d seen messages or not, and days could go by when that ‘lifeline’ wasn’t being monitored- or she just blew me off. I’ll never know what was true about anything she ever said to me… because that’s part of the whole mess. Confusion. Inconsistency. Hot/cold contact. No response to really rough times.
During the “good” times, I really enjoyed the phone calls, and kept wondering when the therapy part started. There were some humorous times. But gradually, the calls decreased more, until I heard from her more when she wanted money for a family member or herself, or a quick check-in when it was convenient for her. When I ever mentioned not wanting to keep going with therapy, I got the “you’re not capable of making that decision at this point”…. uh, lady- if a doctor hasn’t declared me incompetent, I can make any damn decision about my health that I want to make… I just wish I’d had the strength back then to get out.
When I’d run out of money that I set aside for therapy, I told her 3 months before I’d be stopping because of using up the money I’d allotted for therapy, and she said she would still continue therapy, even if I couldn’t afford it. But the grossly inappropriate requests for money continued. I said no a few times, and with one situation, she messaged me to sell everything I could to get her $1000 to “invest” in her website. She has had multiple deadlines for the ‘website’, and I don’t gamble like that. I can’t afford to. I don’t have the energy to sell stuff if I wanted to. I’ve never gotten back to ‘normal activities’. I never got off of activity restriction from the beginning of therapy, though I’ve been able to increase it somewhat. For a therapist to ask for money from a patient for anything but the agreed upon therapy fee is a huge red flag to run like hell… but that isn’t what ‘did it’ as far as totally cutting her out of my life. And I don’t even know if there is a website or other books… on an old blog site, she was working on the book since 2013. I don’t know what to believe.In April of 2025, I had some potentially lethal medical issues come up, that eventually involved a biopsy under general anesthesia, and later a colonoscopy and upper endoscopy for more biopsies. My dog was also very ill and was put to sleep on May 22- my only daily contact with a living thing for the previous 12+ years was gone. Then, after doing what she said I could do if things were seriously wrong ( message her, and if I didn’t hear back in 15 min, go ahead and call), I had the call declined, and a message “I’ll call you in an hour IF POSSIBLE”…. what the hell? I understood not being able to get off the phone (though she did when others had emergencies and she was on the phone with me). I didn’t contact her for urgent calls often AT ALL (maybe 2 times in over 3 years). I still don’t know if that polyp is cancerous yet. I can’t deal with the prep volume they’ve doubled, and they won’t work with me at all with that, so I guess I know how I’ll croak.
Then, I messaged her later that they wanted to do a 2nd colonoscopy with twice the prep over 2 days when I couldn’t get one dose down for the first one. I was in tears, knowing I had to make a life/death decision. She called right away, and said we’d talk the next day about ways to minimize the volume intolerance of a gallon of prep spread over a specific time period. The next day, I never got a call. Or for many, many days after that. Between September 10th and October 3rd (30 min voice call), there was no contact. Then on October 10th or 11th, she wanted to talk to me. I asked why, and she said it was important to both of us. She wanted to tell me she had COVID (one of 120 in the town of 62K where she said she was living). That could have been said in a message.
She knew I’d flunked the colon cancer screening (Cologuard), had an abnormal MRI related to my colon, and they’d found a large polyp (‘with more possible’ on the report) but couldn’t remove it for what they called an incomplete prep. The message about calling me “IF POSSIBLE”, and then no call were the final straw. The message was crystal clear: I didn’t warrant a reply to an SOS message and call. I was done. I’d already emailed her in mid September 2025 about the problems on my end, and no reply until I called her out on it, and got the reply of “I wrote back. I love you.”. THAT was the reply. To about 2 1/2 pages of emails. She addressed none of the things that I was having issues with re: therapy.
I don’t know if I can believe a damn thing she ever said, or that she saw me as more than some drained-dry ATM/cash machine. Before accepting me she knew I was selling my house (auctioned, and got a fraction of what it was worth; medical issues made that the least draining physically). That was NOT her money to tap into, and telling me to sell things was way out of line. If she’d been in the US with a licensing board, I would have reported her.
My feeling is that she’s used to patients acting like some supernatural being is in their presence when she’s around, when she’s actually looking for a payday from patients or their families. I don’t beg anyone for contact- either they have the integrity to do what they say, or they don’t. So, when I saw the article on breadcrumbing, I knew what I was dealing with- a form of emotional manipulation that was never going to change for the better. I think she’s used to getting away with “any contact is better than no contact”, but I don’t play those exploitative and manipulative games. I told her I wouldn’t lie to her and I never did. I wish I knew that she never lied to me, but I think a lot of what she said was bullshit. Her first book even talks about finding things to build someone up- true or not (that’s paraphrased, obviously- I won’t link her first book here). The “I wish I’d been your mother”, “you’re like a daughter to me”, and other quasi-comforting catch phrases all feel like things I want to rid myself of. She also talked about “saving your life”, like if I didn’t get help from her, I was doomed. Um… no. IF anything she’s made my life worse. It pains me to say that.
I wanted to believe in the person I saw on TV years ago. I wanted to believe that someone who knew that eating disorders aren’t about control, fashion, models, or other superficial nonsense. What I got was more painful than if I’d never contacted her. I should have done what I’m doing now- sticking with my dietician, and YouTube folks who have recovered by not restricting. It’s not easy, but at least I don’t have to wonder if the phone will ring, or if I’ll be stood up again.
But when I’ve had it, and it’s no longer even remotely healthy to maintain contact, I’m done. I’d sent the emails about issues with therapy and got no reply a month before the last contact. And then I blocked her from the contact platforms that I could. I wish her and her family well… and well away from me. I’d hoped so much that this would have turned out differently. But when I am not worth more than blown off calls or “I’ll call if possible”- yeah, that’s a line in the sand when I’m literally writing “SOS” on the message.