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.
Tag: self-loathing
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Tired Of Waking Up In This Body, But Can’t Get Weight Off
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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.