Update: Escaping, Spiralling, Opting Out Of Life – And Choosing To Opt Back In Again.

ICanWeatherTheStorm

It’s been a long time since I’ve done a serious update, or a really serious post. There’s a reason for that – I’ve been not out of action, but hunkered down, holding on for dear life. As you do when things get stormy!

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Sometimes, that’s all we can do – hang on tight. And that’s okay.

My biggest ‘storms’,  as usual, have been the PTSD most, and the depression and anxiety. I had my monthly appointment with the consultant psych on Monday (the head of my treatment team) hoping that he could help in some way that would ease the worst period of both anxiety and depression in my life – and that’s including all the years of abuse and bullying. Instead, he complimented me again on how far I’ve come, and how well I’m doing.

I’m still far more functional than I was for over a decade, and for them, that is more important than the level of depression and anxiety I’m feeling. I do worry that these will make me lose function – avoiding doing things and hermiting, being too lethargic and miserable to move most days – doesn’t make functioning very easy! The PTSD, I’m hardly even asking for help with that any more – trying instead to keep using my strategies and wait for the new psych appointment – finally – next week! It seems like I am haunted by the nightmares and the sense of horror  every waking, and not waking minute. There is no easy cure to any this, I wish there was. There is only really bearing it.  But I guess I have to just suck it up and hang on tight.

I’m feeling worse now, because I’m not running away any more. I ran so far, for so many years.  In the past, when the depression was this bad, I used to go out stomping across the city, counting everything I could possibly count – calories, steps, kilos lost, kilos to lose, grams of this and that to two decimal places, to block out everything else. Later, I would cut myself to bits. Or I would take an overdose and hope that this was it, it was all over now. Or I’d  purge until I was sure my stomach itself was going to come up. A lot of the time, I did all of the above, and still hadn’t escaped far enough from myself.

When I became bulimarexic, I would spin out of control – rushing around at top speed, in and out of shops, amassing as much food and other odds and ends (clothing, housewares, bits and bobs, most often gifts for other people) as I could afford and hold.  Stuff them all in the back of a taxi or struggle onto a bus,  and charge on home to binge and purge, binge and purge, collapse for a few hours of exhausted slumber, wake up and survey the mess and the things I’d bought that I neither needed or could afford. Taking them back to the shops was a good excuse to buy more food and repeat the whole thing again. And again, until the money was gone, or more likely, I collapsed in a heap.

Then, came depression so deep that I couldn’t move. I’d spend days in bed, blocking it all out.  Opening my eyes was painful and took too much energy. Life had too many problems to face and I just couldn’t cope with them – so I didn’t. I pretended I wasn’t there instead. I fell deeply into that dream world, the one that I wished dearly I could stay in. This lethargy was heightened because when I came down from whatever frantic phrase, I would always have lost all the weight I’d gained last hospital stay, plus interest, so I’d hit rock bottom like a lead bomb. In later years, I was still too sick on being discharged to even be able to go on that frantic spree, so I went straight home and to bed most times.  This would go on until one or both case managers came round to shovel me out of bed like one might shovel roadkill off a road – and ship me back for hospital admission number whatever.

It wasn’t a life. And I’m not surprised I wasn’t able to function at all. It shocks me how much pain I put myself through in order to avoid pain – even writing this sentence – it’s crazy! It’s like chopping off your whole arm because of a little scratch on your finger. (I know paper cuts can hurt like hell, but really?)

Thinking about this more – I’m sure this overreaction was because of FEAR of the pain – I find that the fear of things is often far worse than those things I feared.

Anyway – I’m now feeling things. Staying with it. The sky still hasn’t fallen, despite that ever-present feeling of doom approaching. I do still struggle with bingeing and purging, and with restricting – and this makes me feel like I haven’t made progress at all. That my weight maintenance and great bloods (this is a big deal for me) and actual ability to do things, are  flukes.  That at any moment it’s all going to come crashing down around me. I’m not just letting it happen – I’m trying to approach each meal as it comes. Trying to have meals, and then at night, trying  not to binge on anything I didn’t eat during the day that I was meant to. How I hate that word, “trying“. Every time I write it I wince.

It makes me think “not enough” immediately – another of the myriad problems all tangled up in this web of disorder. I’ve never been good enough, I’ve always felt like an imposter. My best efforts always fall short, I’m not trying hard enough, I’m just not enough. Except when it comes to my body and then I’m too much.

I never wanted to be slim, beautiful and vogue. I did want my dancer’s body back at one point – but that was more about my belief that weight gain had ruined my dancing rather than being sick from chaotic eating habits, and was aimed more at function than form. I never understood how people cared about “thinspiration”. I didn’t want to look like anyone else. I didn’t want to look like anyone at all – including myself.

I wanted to be gone. Nothing. Zero. Not size zero. ZERO. Not there. Not taking up ANY space. Not seen, not heard, not felt. GONE.

Because it wasn’t my body I couldn’t cope with. It was LIFE. And I was trying to opt out of life and all that I had to feel to be there, in any way possible.

These days, I am coming round to the fact that I can’t be ‘gone’ and still be alive. Rationally, it’s an easy thing to realise – if you aren’t here, you are dead, right? In my brain, despite the rational knowledge, the irrational ‘can be both’ line of thinking persists. As does most of the ED screwed-up-irrational-thinking. See Missy’s post for a good explanation of how her ED brain screws things up too. We know it ain’t true. It’s like always having to argue with a whinging, stubborn child who knows the rules, but wants his own way regardless. It’s another kind of ‘storm’ we must weather – and then wade through the lies to pick up and keep hold of the truths.

I now have a lot more wisdom and insight than I had back in those days. The dialogue (accusations and threats is more appropriate!) from my ED brain is still the same as the worst years – but now, I am able to tell the difference between ED brain thoughts and rationality. Not just that – but I’m getting closer to being strong enough to change what’s not right. One step at a time.

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When it comes to life – I have to stay here. Take all that comes my way. Accept it. Tolerate it. Hang on tight. And trust that this too, will pass, and I can survive it.  Cause let’s face it, it hasn’t killed me yet, right?

So that’s it. For me, right now, it’s about -

  • Weathering the storms. They will pass.
  • Trusting my team, life, my body, the process.
  • Not backing down when anxiety fights my ability to get out and engage in activities and socialisation.
  • Using my strategies – mindfulness, acceptance, being in the present moment, distracting myself.
  • Not fretting over the small things – keeping in mind the bigger picture, but
  • Not trying to leap huge bounds instead of taking one small step at a time.
  • Refuting lies – hanging on to the truth.
  • Challenging myself constantly, and
  • Remembering there is no failure – only the failure to try. 

In future blogs, I’m thinking of writing about my experiences as a long term patient of the public hospital system in Australia, specifically going through a psych ward ED unit. I’m wondering if there is anything in particular you might like me to write about in this context, or any other subject. Thank you :)

Finally, I just had to share this with you. I was google-image searching for pictures and came across this hilarious thing! Enjoy :)

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I Didn’t ‘Used’ To Be A Dancer – I AM A Dancer.

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It’s Friday evening here in Australia, and I’m still shaking my head about something – the impossible happened. I actually went and did a ballet class yesterday morning. ME. BALLET. IMPOSSIBLE?

It happened!!! It was real! I did it!

Thank you so much to everyone who commented and passed on encouragement and happiness for me! I was overwhelmed with how many of you care – you are all quite awesome :)

I think that yesterday had quite a few ‘wins’ for me.

Social anxiety prevented me from getting myself anywhere for quite a few years – the last straw for me was when my legs started giving out on bus stairs. I could no longer catch a bus without help to get into it, and when my legs gave way, people would stare. Same with the train. There often wasn’t so much of a step up to get on, but getting to the station, the travelling, being surrounded by people.. it was all too much.

I also fear hugely the unknown – unknown places, finding my way around, maybe getting lost.

Yesterday morning I left at 7.30am for a 10am class. It was frightfully early, but I was planning to be there an hour early, to scope things out, warm up, etc. Also in the back of my mind I said “Well, something always goes wrong when I don’t leave enough time!”

You can plan your journey online using a government travel site, and it told me to catch a train to a far off suburb, walk a fair distance, and catch a bus round and back to where I wanted to go.

It started off fine. I caught the train, and got off at the correct station. Referring to the map I’d drawn, I walked out and followed the directions. However the street was no longer there – instead there was some huge construction project going on. Neither was the bus stop.

A worker directed me onwards when I asked him where people caught the X bus now, and I went that way, but ended up hopelessly lost. After wandering around in a totally strange to me place for half  an hour, a different bus went past, I flagged it down and simply said “I’m lost!” and the lovely driver gave me a lift to where the bus departed from now. I was a long way out of my way!

From there I caught the right bus, shot past the stop I needed by about 15 minutes walk, but finally found the right place – with 15 minutes to spare.

Even a few months ago, I would have melted into a pile of tears in this situation. Panicked so badly that I hyperventilated, or simply retraced my steps to the station, turned around and gone home.

Yesterday I not only made it to where I was going, I was able to laugh at it. It really was kind of funny!

One of the ballerinas who runs the school had come in especially to greet me, another  reason I wanted to be early – not knowing how early ‘early’ was. Thankfully I was there at a good time for her, too. She came up and was just beaming! Such a magical smile, so genuinely happy to see her again. I first met her about 20 years ago and it’s amazing that she and other people haven’t aged in that time. Ballet must truly be an elixir of youth :)

I felt so special being welcomed so warmly! Hugged and introduced to the class teacher (who turned out to be another ballerina I remembered who also remembered me!) They presented me with a lovely tshirt and tote bag as gifts and some free classes – so I have nearly a year’s worth of classes to go to! One of the best things she said to me was that she saw my name still on the honour board every time she went to the [redacted] Ballet studios – and thought of me. And the excitement she shared with me because I was finally actually walking onto a ballet floor in a ballet studio was so infectious I forgot most of my nervousness. It was a truly special welcome.  (Image Source)

Class was awesome too. I actually had little idea of what to expect – it is a ‘Ballet Barre and Pilates’ class. We did a lot of floor exercises, core strength exercises, leg exercises and some barre work at the end. I loved it. I wasn’t expecting to be able to do as much as I did, but I did all of it, and felt that I did it quite well considering that I hadn’t danced for more than a 15 years! I did struggle with things like keeping muscles working that I’d forgotten even existed – and with my own strength and stamina but pushed on. I’m proud of myself for doing everything in the class, completing the entire class.

I felt totally comfortable! The other class members came in all shapes and sizes and ages seemed to range from early 20′s to perhaps late 60′s. There was a really varied group of women. Also everyone was dressed comfortably. Leggings and/or trackpants, jumpers or skivvies or tee shirts. Socks seemed more common than ballet flats – only three of us wore them. Socks would have been more comfortable for the pilates exercises but I was thankful for my ballet shoes when we did the barre work – socks are very slippery for that sort of stuff! And the atmosphere was lovely, the women were all down to earth, friendly, warm people. No body shame, no bitchiness, all in a ballet class? Heaven!

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The only hard part for me was that there was one girl in the class (a younger one) who was emaciated – obviously, unavoidably anorexic. I studiously ignored her (except when saying hello, thankfully she didn’t come near me anyway) because I wanted this place to be free of that – I didn’t want to spend my classes looking at her and comparing myself. I hate that I do this, but I do, every time I see another disordered person on the street. I also hate that I find myself thinking things like “I’m not thin enough, I’m a failure, I should be thinner than her..” because I KNOW what a hell it is to live what she’s living – I know that hell. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It hurt and infuriated me so much every time someone said to me, “I wish I could have a bit of your anorexia so I could lose weight” or even “I wish I was as thin as you”. It was horrible! I can’t believe I do that, myself, think that of someone else, KNOWING their hell.

Also, I was extremely aware that the school’s owner and the class teacher knew I had been out for years because of the anorexia, that I’d been very sick with it. So I found myself looking at this girl and thinking I bet they are looking at her and me and thinking “but that is anorexia – why aren’t you really thin like she is? “

I know that’s not true at all, that’s stupid thinking, and that they know I’m here now doing this class because I’ve come a long way – put weight on, kept weight on, etc. And they are very non-judgemental people. It’s just an example of how screwed up ED can make us and how it twists a situation.

Today I woke up sore all over and barely able to move with Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness – there wasn’t an inch of me that didn’t ache. But it was worth it! And next time, it won’t hurt quite as much :)

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So that was my first ballet class after all these years – my return to doing what I love. Next Thursday can’t come quickly enough for me! It was the first time in years that I can remember not feeling depressed AT ALL. I felt on a high, totally singing and dancing in my heart even after the class was over. And I realise that this could be the key to recovery for me. I remember what it was like to place more importance on what my body can DO than what it looks like. I remember how good it felt to feel my muscles all working. To feel strong. To express myself.

If I can place more importance on being strong and being able to dance, hopefully I can let go of the ‘too fat, must be nothing’ obsession that still is there, all the time, despite me choosing not to act on it. Perhaps I will be able to comfortably gain the rest of the weight I need to gain, knowing that I’m creating a functioning dancer’s body – an instrument – rather than it just being ‘size’ and ‘weight’. I really hope so.

At the very least, that feeling of absolute joy – is enough to help me get through the rest of the week. I haven’t felt that joy in forever. I’ve missed it.

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Yesterday it was like I was coming ALIVE after years in some forced hibernation. I was waking up. I can’t wait to see what else is on the horizon for me.

Thank you again for all your lovely comments. I’m so happy to be able to share something so positive. And I truly wish that if any of you have dreams that you have lost to your illness, dreams you are putting off because something has to be ‘right’ first, and/or dreams that you dearly hope for but deep down can’t believe they can ever possibly happen for you – don’t give up. My dream was impossible – and yet it’s happening to me! So never, ever think it can’t happen for you too, and hang on to those dreams.

What is your dream? Do you believe it is possible? 

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Lunch Challenge and Laid Back Sunday Catch Up

Hi friends!

I haven’t been doing all that much lately. I thought I’d share a few snaps from my week that was.

Friday was a triumph! I went to a nearby organic supermarket with my case manager and we had lunch. Very yummy lunch.

Ocean trout patty, raw broccoli, chickpea and sesame seed salad, relish.

It was so delicious. And so huge. That is a big plate (as opposed to a side plate as seen on many Healthy Living Blogs) and the patty was a full inch and a half tall. I was SO FULL. And I don’t know how long it took to eat, but my case manager was finished a long time before me.

Anxiety is a huge problem for me, social anxiety, anxiety in the middle of the night for no reason, any anxiety. I was shaking all over on this excursion. I had an attack of the verbal diarrhoeas. I’ve been eating in public more and more over the last two years, but still very phobic of eating in public. Not to forget that I’m still terrified of the food I’m eating and not okay with it. This patty was mostly composed of potato – one of my big fear foods!

Every time I challenge my fears, I prove to myself that it’s OKAY. That my fears are unfounded.

Hey, stop panicking, the sky is still up there!

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 I even ‘sabotaged’ the ED by asking my case manager to drop me in the city afterwards so I had to make my own way home – no purging. This is the way I achieve the most victories over the ED. I sabotage it. I creep around behind it’s back. I belittle it – call it a dumb stupid beast. The less ‘respect’ I have for it, the less frightening it can be. Well in theory anyway.

We also explored the shop. I have never been in a store like this before, it had sacks  everywhere filled with every bean, grain and legume under the sun, rows of bins of all different kinds of flour, cereal, dried fruit, nut, and CHOCOLATE.. a whole ROW of chocolate (I wish I could have hidden and being locked in the store after closing, all by myself with that chocolate..)

I found Kale chips – I still can’t believe people make chips out of kale – and sea kelp noodles – something I want to try, but at nearly $10 a small bag – no. I looked and looked for peanut flour – another ingredient I’m really curious about but we don’t seem to have it, or it’s called something else.  I really honestly wonder how people sustain the kind of lifestyle I read on the healthy living blogs. That food is just so ridiculously expensive, not to mention hard to find, over in Australia it’s hard to find anyway.

I don’t think our Organic store was anything like Whole Foods but it was an interesting excursion and I will go back there again.

The rest of the week we have slept, a LOT.

I want my part of the bed back!!

I have been extremely, inexplicably tired in the last couple of months, and it only seems to be worsening. I seem to spend about 14 or more hours of my day asleep lately, I would probably be more accurate calling that 24 hours a day asleep, since when I’m awake, I feel like i’m sleep walking. Hopefully it won’t be forever.

Moving on – we have found cats in the sky

Stalked Kookaburras!

This cheeky fellow caught a few of the massive lizards that live in our yard, and ate them about a metre from my poor cat’s face as she watched him through our back door. Poor Shalimar! She’s been chasing those lizards since we got here with no luck. (Partly because I keep sabotaging her.. I have no desire to clean up lizard guts or see her kill something.)

We also mowed the lawn!

brr brr brr brr chomp chomp chomp.. how short do you want it?

She loves her grass. She’s in grass heaven these days.

And we have taken a leaf out of Macgyver‘s book. It was rainy. We needed clean clothes. We had no rope for an indoor line. We were not about to wear a toga, that’s only good when you are in Uni and then only once or twice a year, with lots of alcohol to blur the outfits into stylish options rather than bedsheets a strong breeze away from x-rated.

I did not do this.

In your dreams.

Instead I did this.

I bet you can't see that this is actually a long extension cable for my TV aerial that I no longer use. Knew it would be handy!

It’s a little crowded here! But I will be decently clothed tomorrow.

So that’s all. Apart from becoming more and more irritated with a few facebook friends who insist on being attention seeking little twats (more on that in another post – a post about Victim Narcissim perhaps) and looking forward to Hydrotherapy, I have been very idle. And it’s not a good feeling.

I cannot wait to get into something productive. Like a job. And the wheels seem to be turning very slowly.. nay maybe not at all, at the employment agency I’m starting with that help people like me – who have managed to get to the ripe old age of 34 and never have had a paid job – get jobs. Okay, they are more than that. People who have a mental illness or have been very sick, and out of the workforce for a long period of time need someone to bribe prospective employers into giving them a go. wouldn’t employ me, unless there was some bonus.

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I’ll keep you all posted as to who rings up with their credit cards handy.

Wishing you all a great week ahead!