I love this photo.

Fuck Eating Disorders!

MY Eating Disorder.

And Society.

For trying to convince us that Pizza is “Bad”!

CARBS.ARE.EVIL.

It was Pizza Night at my House last night.

I was excited!

We ordered our FAVORITE-

“Mac-n-Cheese” Pizza.

MY choice.

It is SO.GOOD.

Seriously.

I scarfed down 3 pieces, without even batting an eye.

Was SUPER full afterwards, but it passed.

I took this picture, right before I ate the last piece, feeling NO “shame” for unbuttoning my pants.

I think that this is probably a pretty normal practice for most people…!?!

LOL.

It felt good.

Screw YOU, Anorexia.

You, TOO, Bulimia.

I was Hungry last night.

And for once, didn’t question whether or not I could “afford” to eat it.

Well, maybe for a WEE bit.

Pretty much just had “liquid” meals yesterday, so I figured having some pizza would “make up” some lost calories for me.

No guilt.

I escaped your “wrath” for the time being, Anorexia!

I won.

So, Suck it!

P.S. I, for ONCE, am adoring my little chub rolls that I can spy thru my Tank top.

Honestly.

It’s kind of….

Cute?

I’m trying to not freak out.

I bought some Food Packets.

Yes, Food Packets.

Ok.

I’ll be honest….

They were “Pureed Fruit”.

Shit, I bought BABY FOOD packets, ok!?!

They’re better for me nutritionally than just Applesauce packets.

They ARE!

However, with that, comes ADDITIONAL frickin’ calories!?!

I’ve gone from 150 Calories/day, to 240 Calories/day.

That is an EXTRA 90 Calories!?!

Fuck.

I’m trying to lose weight, NOT gain it!!

With Creamer in my “day-long” Coffee cup, I’m probably more at 300 Calories.

Still TOO many.

I’m trying to find where I can lower that number.

But I don’t know how.

Coffee without Creamer is NOT my thang.

NO THANKS.

And,

Without completely removing a “meal”.

I CAN do that, but feel better if I’m able to “eat” 3x day.

WHY Baby Food?

I can’t totally explain this, to make sense to you.

It’s fast and convenient.

Perfectly portioned.

Yummy.

And the texture.

Smooth.

Rich.

No chewing required!

Just suck ’em down while driving to my next Job.

I don’t know, it’s easy.

Did I already mention that they’re perfectly portioned?

No thinking.

No Cooking.

No Cutting.

No Talking.

No being stared at.

I honestly right now, struggle with eating in front of people.

Sometimes I CAN.

Sometimes I CAN’T.

NO “Eating”.

Easy.

Please, and thank you!

I can literally open my refrigerator door, scan all of it’s delicious contents, and will STILL firmly shut the door, and settle for a Fruit packet.

The only decision I have to make, is what Flavor.

Banana, Pear, and Sweet Potatoes.

OR,

Banana, Pear, and Raspberries.

YUM.

Seriously, I’m not lying.

I think it’s the ONLY way my Vitals weren’t all messed up when I went to Rodger’s last Fall.

You see, these magic packets are FULL of good stuff!

Vitamins.

Minerals.

And one that IS needed so that my body doesn’t go totally crazy!?

Potassium.

If you’ve ever had a Potassium drip at the hospital, you know how unpleasant that IV is!

For those of you who haven’t, it feels like someone is injecting you with the coldest ice water that you can IMAGINE, right into your vein.

Low potassium can literally stop your heart.

Instantly.

I believe that this is WHY people that suffer with Eating Disorders, end up having heart attacks.

By the waaaaay.

For inquiring minds-

MY Heart Attack 2 years ago WAS Cholesterol and Stress related.

It WAS.

And thank God, truly, that I DID have that Heart Attack.

If I hadn’t, the next time I DID have a heart attack, I think I would have died.

It was that serious.

And being Adopted, you have no idea WHAT your Medical or Family history is.

The Doctor’s found 2 Main Arteries blocked.

Right down the middle of my Heart.

I’m not sure, but people have told me that’s called broken heart syndrome!?!

Those 2 Arteries were 90% blocked.

So yes, I think if the next time I had a heart attack, I don’t think I would be around to talk about it…

That’s messed up.

I did have quite a few things that happened within the 3 months surrounding that whole scenario.

A dear friend of mine that owned a Doggy Daycare in my town passed.

I found out that the job that I had worked at for so long, was closing, And I was the last one invited to the party.

That really pissed me off, and so the weekend before my heart attack, I was seriously stressed about giving my notice.

I had my heart attack symptoms start literally, no lie, 15 minutes after I sent my resignation letter to my bosses.

I just had no idea. I just knew that I didn’t feel very well, I can tell you that.

And I also know that I do not handle stress very well.

I don’t eat.

I don’t sleep.

I llllliterally lay in bed and make lists of Shit that doesn’t even need to be done.

Ha!

Anyone else?

Where my Ladies at?

See.

Again, fucking NUMBERS!

SO, lots of Potassium!

And Daily Vitamin Gummies on TOP of that.

Gotta stay “Healthy”!

So.

Do I round up or down?

Mmm.

It’s all about the number(s) for me.

I truly DON’T know why.

Gahhhhh.

I hate this.

It really is like being tormented in a cruel way.

By MYSELF.

NUMBERS…..

Sooooo,

I have only eaten 150 calories today.

Yesterday?

The day before?

And the day before THAT?

About the same.

I’m actually quite a bit nauseous as I write this…

I really hope it passes soon!

I wonder how long I can seriously survive on just 150 calories a day?

So far it hasn’t been that difficult.

When my stomach feels like it’s about to chew it’s way out, from the inside, I try to drink water.

Or suck down another Apple sauce packet.

Those things are ingenious, by the way!

Perfectly packaged.

And perfectly portioned.

At 60 Calories a pouch.

Brilliant!

Calories, Schmalories!

Do you ever feel like your life is crashing down around you, no matter which way you turn?

The issues and burdens that you are dealing with,

Carrying…

Are threatening to drown you?

That no matter how hard you try to keep your head above the water.

It’s like you have huge weights attached to your ankles.

Pulling you down into the dark depths of sleep.

Waiting for someone or something, to SAVE you!?

To snatch you up!

Breathe REAL life into you, and start you on a new Journey?

Definitely one of the main reasons I hate being an “Adult”!

Straight UP.

Even has a kid I had some messed up issues that I was dealing with.

Mostly privately, but even then…

I used to hope,

PRAY,

That somebody would just save me!

Help me!

Yes, help arrived, but never in the form of that longed for Knight in Shining Armor.

I guess what I mean by “help arrived”, is that somehow I survived!?

Trial after trial, and hardship after hardship….

I always managed to have hope that tomorrow would be a new and brighter day.

What’s changed?

Well, for starters, I’m not that 10 year-old girl with bright, and un-jaded aspirations for the future.

Looking at tomorrow with rainbow colored glasses…

No responsibilities except to just….

Live.

Go to School.

Church.

Family Outings.

And even then, there was still sometimes a lingering Darkness.

You always manage to suck it up and put a smile on your face.

That sometimes it’s really hard to do as a 40-ish something Human.

Because now you have other depressing things that come into play…

Bills.

And MORE Bill’s.

A Job (s).

A Spouse.

A House.

A Dog. 🤗 (Or DOGS!)

Friends.

A Church Family.

Parents.

In-laws.

The list could literally go ON and ONNNnnn.

*(And they’re NOT all bad, by the way….)

Overwhelmed by everything else, except for the MOST important.

Herself.

MYself.

Always putting others first.

In Treatment, They called it “People Pleasing.

It’s ALL I feel like I know how TO do.

All the time.

ALL.THE.TIME.

SO now, I am trying to figure out WHY.

Because I was taught to?

Yes, I believe so.

It has, and was, the “RIGHT” thing to do.

You always put others first.

That’s what Jesus DID.

And WOULD do.

It’s just what you do.

WE, as Christian’s do.

So WHEN do you decide to put YOU first?

YOUR wants.

Needs.

Respect is HUGE with me.

I know my Value.

AND I know my worth.

When someone or something isn’t able to see that anymore,

I feel like it’s time to move on.

Quickly,

And quietly…

Gather my things,

And leave the situation.

YOU may call it running.

But, I call it survival.

Whether or not,

Others thinks it’s the right thing to do.

I’ve always had to do what’s best….

For me.

Because since day ONE,

I’ve had to fight to SURVIVE.

I’ve HAD to.

Remember, I was born to a Drug Addict.

Who “used” while pregnant with me.

I was carried full term, but weighed 3 lbs. when I was born.

I was transferred after a Month to another local Hospital.

Stayed in an Incubator for another 3 Months.

Put into Foster Care.

Placed into a Foster Family.

Then another one.

And another one.

The one I stayed at the longest,

Was an older couple.

He found out he had Cancer.

Byyye.

Went BACK into the System.

And then,

I THINK that’s when,

My Parents found me.

Well, GOD led them to lil’ ole ME.

And my Brother.

We were a Double-Deal.

Placed faster into my Parent’s Home because we came together.

A “Special Needs” Adoption.

The first time that my parents took me out on a Visitation Outing from the Foster home, we went to a park.

Apparently, I got up, took off running, and literally barreled down a hill.

Towards the lake below.

LOL.

My Dad said that’s the FASTEST hes EVER had to run.

But, he saved me!?!

Scared the shit out of him, but he caught me in time.

I love that story.

I think it captures “ME”, pretty accurately.

Charging through Life.

Boundaries,

Limits,

And Expectations.

2 Years later?

Adopted.

It’s funny in a weird and twisted, fucked up fate-

YEARS later I made the decision to cut my Brother out of my life.

It was extremely difficult, mainly because he’s the only blood relative that I know.

I gave him chance after chance after chance.

Especially as we got older and were out of high school.

Even after everything that he did to me as a kid, I still found it hard to break that tie!

It wasn’t until I felt like my eyes had been opened to his cruel mentality of others.

And he never showed any remorse.

For an act…

ACTS so Henious,

And Horrible,

That HE deserves absolutely nothing from ME.

Nothing.

N.O.T.H.I.N.G.

He has my Forgiveness.

And that’s pretty much about it.

Because I had to.

HAD to.

In order to LIVE.

But that’s an entirely different story for a different time.

“THRIVE-TO-SURVIVE”….

Yep, that’s ME.

But the guilt that follows me,

Guilt for just wanting to do what’s right for Me?

Stifling.

What I CAN’T tell?

The difference between MY own personal guilt,

And guilt that I am assuming others are putting on me.

Before I have made, or acted on any decisions.

Either way, I’ve decided that other People can’t “save” me.

They CAN’T,

And WON’T.

I’ve got to save MYSELF.

I love you, but I love Myself more.

A lot more.

So…

It starts with getting another J.O.B.

Saving Money.

I’ve know I’ve got some difficult roads ahead.

Roads I may have to travel alone.

💔

Excuse the “language”.

I can’t lie.

I’ve been secretly AND purposefully, TRYING to lose weight.

I don’t feel like I have.

But OTHER people seem to have noticed that I look thinner.

Voiced their “concern”.

I’m sure I haven’t lost THAT much.

I seriously DON’T know how much I’ve lost, IF I truly have.

I do NOT own a Scale.

“It” is truly the Devil.

For MYSELF, and MOST Women I know.

Deep down, and all “Recovery aside,

I HOPE I indeed, HAVE lost weight.

Even IF it’s just a few pounds.

Duh, that’s IS the goal.

My “Applesauce and Coffee”, with a few Meals and some Candy thrown in, Diet REALLY needs to start working.

It’s been 2 weeks.

I’m Hangry.

As FUCK.

I FEEL lighter.

I bought a pretty new Summer Sweater a few days ago.

I carefully cut the tags off.

And shyly put it on.

Asked my Husband HOW I looked.

Now, I KNOW it’s a double-edged sword, BUT at least he’ll give me an HONEST answer.

He’d BETTER!

I turn sideways, pull in my stomach.

Holding my breath, I TRY smiling at him.

It TOTALLY ends up looking more like I’ve got a severe wedgie.

Damn.

I ask him if HE thinks looks like I’ve lost weight.

And he says?

“NO”.

Are you kidding me?!?!

I ask him if he’s serious.

He asks ME if I’m TRYING to lose weight.

I say yes.

He rolls his eyes, and then stares blankly at me.

“Nope, you look the same.”

NEVER SAY THIS TO SOMEONE WHO IS STRUGGLING WITH AN EATING DISORDER!

Why?

Because NOW?

Not ONLY do I feel disgustingly HUGE,

IT becomes a Challenge.

A Game.

GAHHHHHH.

Fuuuuck.

REALLY?!?!

I honestly wanted to die.

I need to try HARDER.

SHIT. 💩

I can do that.

Yes,

Yes, I CAN.

And so?

I WILL.

Try, Try, Again.

I went to visit my friend back at Inpatient today.

She had a 1-Hour pass to leave the Eating Disorder Unit, so we decided to sit outside on the grounds.

Roger’s Hospital has a very beautiful, spacious and very well manicured ground with a Gazebo, and a nice bench Swing that seats 4.

We chose the Gazebo.

The very SAME Gazebo, that not even 6 Months ago, I was asked by MY Behavior Specialist, to RECORD my story of being Raped.

In as much DETAIL as I could remember.

What in the actual FUCK!?

I can’t even tell my own PASTOR, who I trust, about my past, WHY would I tell a complete STRANGER!?!

IN detail!?

The Doctor’s “theory” behind it, was that by sharing all of the traumatic events that I had ever endured, over and over and over again, by listening to my OWN story, in my OWN voice, that I would be “desensitized”, and would therefore, be able to “move forward” in Life.

Okayyyy.

Um, NO.

The sexual abuse that I suffered was SO traumatic that I do not even allow MYSELF to go there.

EVER.

I can’t.

I just CAN’T.

That fragment of my shattered heart, is SO broken that I honestly don’t believe that it can, or will, EVER be able to go back to what it once was.

I DON’T KNOW HOW!?!

I can TRY to convince my Brain that it never happened.

But THAT obviously has NOT worked.

And is NOT working.

That shit was, and STILL is, branded into my mind.

My body.

And my soul.

With such a deep penetrating stain, I don’t even feel like JESUS can wash it out 100%.

People SAY that he CAN.

I WANT Him to.

In fact, I remember getting Baptized during those “dirty” years, SPECIFICALLY so that it could ALL be washed away!?!

So that I could be made “clean”.

NEW.

So WHY do I NOT feel like I’ve escaped that internal Hurricane that rips through my silent mind, leaving nothing but screaming devastation!?!

Everywhere.

Seriously.

Needless to say, sitting IN that exact same Gazebo, being brought back to that PLACE and mind SPACE, every single one of those emotions rolled over my body, leaving me anxiety ridden to the point of wanting to throw up.

I wanted to run away.

BUT…

I couldn’t LEAVE, so I had to make the best of it.

And so I DID.

HOWEVER,

As I’m sitting there, I’m also starting to feel more and more guilty.

Why?

Because as someone who has been a past Patient, AND who is trying to be an encouraging Friend to someone who is CURRENTLY there receiving Treatment, I sometimes feel unable to meet her gaze.

I feel like a Fraud.

A failure.

I am still caught and dangling haphazardly in the sticky Web of deceit that an Eating Disorder spins.

I use every “Behavior”, if not MORE, than I should be.

I’m supposed to be IN Recovery.

And I am not.

I starve.

I binge.

I purge.

I hoard.

I isolate.

No, I am NOT fine.

I will say that I AM,

With that bright smile you expect.

But I am not.

I am far from it.

A smile can hide a lot.

It IS “easier” @ times.

I honestly don’t even NEED to write anything more IN this Blog post.

Except that I absolutely FEEL every.single.word.

To my core.

I have read this, over and over again, and over again.

And OVER again.

To the point of driving my OWN brain insane.

Extremely wise words to describe my OWN shattered desired Dreams.

Expectations?

Maybe even my own Self-Worth?

I am STARVING.

I WANT to eat.

BUT I am afraid.

When I’m THIS hungry,

A B/P has been sent an Invitation to attend the Feast.

No matter HOW small the Buffet.

The last few days have been rough.

BUT, I’m TRYING to see the “good” in every day.

My Depression isn’t lifting.

And so,

I am getting used to eating less.

And less.

The weight does not feel like it’s falling off as quickly as it did a few months ago.

THAT pisses me off.

A LOT.

That means………

I have to eat less than I ALREADY am.

Ok, so instead of 2 Halos, I will only eat 1.

And I will probably cut out Bananas.

TOO much Sugar.

FML.

Binging and Purging is probably NOT helping my cause.

The problem?

My Body is STARVING.

Binging allows me to eat.

I just have to get rid of it after.

Maybe I’m NOT doing a good enough job at bringing it ALL up.

Maybe THAT’S what is causing me to NOT lose?

Puking up Applesauce isn’t MY idea of a good time.

THAT is NOT puke-worthy!?!

Sugar, Calories, and Fat, ARE.

The more the merrier.

Trying to fill that Endless Void.

I threw away my scale.

Weighing myself BEFORE and AFTER a B/P cycle isn’t an option.

I really don’t WANT to buy one.

In fact, I’m Overnight Pet-Sitting at someone’s House, and I HID their scale that was conveniently located in their Bathroom.

NO thanks!

Tucked that Sucker underneath the Sink.

Out of sight,

OUT of mind!

Numbers can get OUT of control for me.

Adding, subtracting, multiplying-

It ALL adds up to equal MY self-worth.

Let’s NOT lower it even MORE.