College and Eating Disorder

First, I wanted to apologize.

The days of class I skipped.

The days I couldn’t pay attention.

Or, the days when I would skip your class, and you would catch me running around campus walking back to your office.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was that I was just more consumed with burning calories and making my Eating Disorder happy that I didn’t want to sit in class.

I didn’t want you to take my struggle as apathy or anything like that, and for the professors that did know about my struggle, I’m thankful for all that you did.

It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to go to class, I physically didn’t have the energy to be there. I was freezing, exhausted, and all I wanted to do was go out and run this anxiety off. Running was more important to me than school, studying, or any sort of life.

Classmates would comment on how athletic I am, and how impressed they were at the distances I was running and how often I went to the gym. (Little did they know I had eaten an apple in maybe two days, and the violent shakes were from the Hydroxycut, not the coffee like I told people.) They didn’t see the girl who laid in her bed crying because of her electrolytes and her legs were locked up again, or the girl who ran to the toilet at 2 am because I had taken the laxatives too early and was up in the middle of the night.

College just seems like one big blur to me. Life was a half-hearted perfunctory routine of get up, run, go to class, run, go to work, maybe go to the gym, and start all over again.

Recently, I had the opportunity to catch up with one of my professors. I had her class during the semester that I left for treatment. We sat outside, laughed and caught up on all that we had missed. She told me that I looked happy and she was so proud of me. That, was what I needed to hear. That I didn’t disappoint her, or had somehow failed at being a “normal” college student.

She went on to say that she talks about me frequently, how I never asked for special treatment, and did continue to show up and do well in her class. The only thing I ever asked was if I could take my final early, (I was admitted on finals week).

I was honest and told her that while I was in her class I was consuming more diet pills and laxatives than actual food, she shook her head in a concerning way.

The most difficult was a male professor, only because my senior research also included a food log, which I was sure would lead to me failing my senior research if I didn’t have any data to actually document. He was very understanding, and I missed half of the following semester since I was still in treatment. Returning in March to his Biostatistics class, he was shocked and surprised to see me walk in the door. I had three tests to make up, multiple practicals, and I was determined. He was willing to work with me and said I could take an incomplete and finish the semester when I was feeling better. I told him I was supposed to graduate this semester, and I wanted to catch up.

I did, I finished school on time and graduated on time, missing half of a semester of Biostatistics, Virology, and Biochemistry.

I am very thankful to have the support I did through my academic career. Both of those professors actually wrote me letters of recommendation. They believed in me, even when I didn’t think I could.

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Abuse Soccer

12/21/2014
Currently, I’m pissed at the world.
Saturday was family day, everyone came. Grandma brought fucking cookies! Dumb ass! The primary therapist said something to my grandma, she got mad and left.
                I felt hurt and pissed at her. She wasn’t even invited by me, but she came anyway and is in such a state of denial.
                My sister and I were curled up on the yoga room floor the whole time and I loved it. Then yelling Rudolph the Red nosed Reindeer while in the bathroom together. I struggled, didn’t finish dinner and had Ensure.
                The next day Ridley came in, we had lunch, then wandered downtown. It was so cute and I loved all of the shops. That was super fun. We got back and I snuck outside for some soccer. I was juggling and kicking it around, then Anna came around the corner, she asked what I was doing, I told her I was being easy, but admitted I didn’t ask Ridley.
                Anna wasn’t too keen because I had been “sneaky” before and she was worried about me being triggered. Few minutes later Ridley came outside to peak on me. Anyways I didn’t abuse soccer, yay!
                                Background story:
                12/14/2014
                                Yesterday I thought I was going to be sneaky and play outside with some residents. Anna said I could get my soccer ball from my car, I was so thrilled. We got in trouble for running, so we were kicking the ball back and forth. Then I got cocky and went all goalie style. Diving andblocking shots, running, omg I loved it. My legs got all cut up, scraped and bloody- I loved it.
                                Then, I got a headache and got really dizzy. I struggled through snack, suffered nauseously through dinner. Then B and I went to talk to the RC. From diving so much I was so dizzy and B knew what it was. The RC had already seen my legs and probably knew I was being rough. I humbly admitted I was diving and being rough…and got reprimanded…and no more soccer…
                                I was so pissed at myself for trying to be sneaky, for fessing up, and for abusing soccer. I was finally given the ok and I cut off my nose to spite my face.
                                I cried during snack because I didn’t want to get kicked out and just feel like I can’t get my shit together.
                So anyway, today. I woke up with plans to go to yoga, but the therapist came in the kitchen and wanted to meet today. I missed yoga but really opened up. Part of my breakfast also involuntarily came up and the RC saw, so I had to drink an Ensure during my appointment.
                Cleaning was also taken from me, and I can’t do the dishes anymore and need to sit for 15 minutes after each meal. My body hates food, and just wants to get rid of it, like it has been doing for a long time.

 

12/21/2015

I went to work, ate a Clif Bar, among many other delicious foodies, walked my dog, called people about trying to find a place to live since I am moving. I didn’t run today because I didn’t have time, plus it was raining.

Life is Good

Trust the Process.

xoxoxo

 

Accident Prone Lately.

Lately I feel like a lot has happened. There has been one job, school, my other job, looking into treatments, etc. 
I found out Sunday that C is no longer going to be working with the place I had been going for outpatient. I wish nothing but the best of luck for her, and I am so grateful that she called me and told me herself. It is odd. I am thankful she made a point to say it was nothing I did/said, and gave me a few options. I struggle so bad with a fear of rejection and upsetting people that it meant so much to me that she called me herself and told me.
I had told C a couple of days ago about my horrible leg cramps and that my foot had locked up. It was like a charley horse, but 100x worse, I couldn't just stretch it or rub it out, and it lasted for what seemed like eternity. C expressed concern during our short talk Sunday. She said that one of her nutritionist friends explained it could be a precusor to something in the future and the next time it happened I needed to go to the doctor ASAP. 
One of my jobs has been so busy, and the other one is at a school with kids.
I think I am getting sick, mainly the whole kids back in school, everyone shares germs, kinda sick. 
I haven't been eating at all again, Last night my "dinner" consisted of a cup of hot tea and a handful of laxatives. Day before that? I consumed grapes. I'm not eating, I don't want to eat, and I wish my body wasn't so damn resilient.
I have also become extremely accident prone recently though. I'm not sure if it is just related to the foggy brain and light headed-ness, just being so tired, lethargic, or malnourished. It has been awful though. Bruises, clumsy-ness, falling, running into stuff. This has become daily, and painful. 
Yesterday I was carrying something at work and ran right into a pole with my hip. Holy crap that hurt so bad, I have a huge bruise.
Today, I was covering a Moomba boat after I had driven it from the dock onto the trailer. I was covering the front part and was under the cover putting the poles in there. I turned my head and bashed it right on the windshield. As if my head wasn't hurting bad enough from lack of food and water. Then, I was inside a ski nautique, driving that on the trailer, I fell back and landed right on my tail bone, *CRUNCH*. I saw stars and got that nauseating feeling in my stomach. Walking/sitting/ pretty much anything right now hurts so bad. Blacked out at work today, I was so sure I was about to just pass out. I got very dizzy, weak, my vision began to go; I sat down (the best I could with my ass hurting) and sipped some ice coffee my boyfriend-ish, had brought me for lunch. I am pretty pissed that I hurt myself so bad that I won't be able to run for a couple days because the impact and jarring from walking hurts my lower back and butt so much.... damn tailbone... 
 

I Just Kinda Fucked Myself Over Didn’t I?

Attempting to lace up my shoes for a race when I can barely stand. 

I felt awful and called out of work. I showered because I was so cold, but could barely stand. 

I spent a good half hour wrapped in my towel on the floor, trying to find shorts and a shirt for the run. 

After I was dressed I made my way to the car and headed out. 

For those of you that don’t know, I have been looking into residential places lately for my eating disorder. Everything in me screams, “Don’t do it!!” “You aren’t sick!” “C is just trying to use a fear tactic.” “You aren’t 90 lbs and emaciated, you are fine!”  Another part of me realizes what I am doing isn’t healthy, whether I am 90 or 490 lbs.

Well, my therapist seems to have some radar that just knows when to email/text/call me. There was a few times that she caught me at either the right, or wrong, time:

1. I was in the bathroom throwing up when I got her email on my phone.

2. I had taken laxatives and was literally running out of class to use the bathroom when I got her text.

3. Headed on a run when I got another email.

4. Popping diet pills as she was calling me.

So, anyway, here I was, had made it to the race. After feeling like shit all day. I hadn’t eaten in days, I could barely stand, my head was spinning, so lethargic. I had just gotten my packet pick up with my bib and all of that when my pocket started to buzz. The first thing to go through my head, besides the throbbing from my headache, was “It’s Saturday, who in the hell is call me?!” As I finally grabbed my phone and was looking at the number I had missed the call….

…. I got on Google to see where/who/what they wanted, and if the number would pop up. As I was typing it in my phone started buzzing again.  

Without thinking, I answer it. 

Hello, this is Joe Schmo with XYZ, calling for Susie Q….

I can barely hear anything at this point, my head is throbbing, my legs are ready to give out, I’m not sure if I am going to shit myself or throw up, and of course the damn band for the race had decided right then that me answering my phone was their cue to start jamming out….

“I’m sorry, give me one second, I can barely hear you.”

That’s fine, take your time.

“Ok, now who are you?”

—————————–

After a few minutes (I swear I wasn’t drunk/high/etc I was so out of it from feeling awful and not eating in days I was so groggy) everything clicked. “Oh God, he is calling about ED related bull shit.” I thought to myself. 

He got information, asked general bull shit questions. 

So, tell me about your struggles, so I can help find a facility that can help. Like if you struggle with anorexia, compared to binge eating.

“Um, sir, I am at a race right now, I can’t really, uhhh, work out a lot, eat very little.”

Hmmm, a race? are you running in it or cheering someone on? *I could feel his wheels turning*

How much do you work out?

“I don’t know, I try to run anywhere from 5-7 miles.”

The conversation went on like this for quite a while until I reached my car.

What kind of treatment were you thinking about looking into?

“Honestly, I don’t know. Apparently outpatient wasn’t the smartest because of driving over an hour there on little food.”

Ok, well if you struggle with anorexia, but have a BMI of under X, then we would have to see if you were even healthy enough for some places. 

“Yes to the first part, but I run and work out so much, no to the under X.”

So anyway… talk about timing huh? I have a race that is starting in a half hour and here I am on the phone with some dude trying to get me into treatment. It was kind of surreal. I still see myself as fat. Boobs, stomach, thighs (a couple people think that is mainly the dysmorphia), but to talk to a complete stranger about my habits, and have him say, 

“Given just the little bit of information you gave me, the knowledge and experience from being here, your intake, exercise and so on, you would fit the criteria for residential.” 

Well, fuck me…..

Yay, and fuck. I’m not sure what I want. The ED is screaming, I am ready to cry, my best friend is happy and nervous for me, one other person keeps saying, “School and work won’t matter if you are DEAD.” and I refuse to tell my mother because she will probably say the same things the ED is screaming. 

8 Meter Laxative Dash

I feel awful. It’s a mixture of a few things. Nerves, and different aspects of the eating disorder.
Nerves because of school and looking into residential places for help. Those two things stress me out beyond belief.
The eating disorder, because if anything, I’ve gotten worse, not better.
My best friend and I had a good long talk about residential, outpatient, me, food. It was enjoyable to have someone to talk to. She doesn’t understand and doesn’t know how to help me, but at least having someone there to listen is nice.
So, it’s almost 4:26 in the morning, I can’t sleep, and I feel awful. Afraid to move to fast and set off a chain reaction of laxative abuse in my body.
The thought of food right now makes me sick.
Going away to a place for help sounds scary because I fear I will be the…oh God do I dare say it…fattest, fattest one there.
I woke up, the familiar gurgle in my stomach from taking laxatives. I went to stand up to head to the bathroom and realized how dizzy I was, and shaking. You would think this would scare me, but it doesn’t. Unfortunately.
It took me a good 8-10 sec to get my balance back well enough to be able to walk to the bathroom.
I’m freezing, I’m shaking, I’m killed over in laxative pain, and I’ve been taking diet pills on top of this (which I think is responsible for the shaking). Making the dizzy dash to the bathroom. Hah, dizzy dash. There isn’t even anything in my system 😒 On top of that, the pants I wore are “too big” says C the other day, and I’m tripping over them and trying to pull them up between gathering energy, balance, my vision and weaving like a drunk down the hallway to the bathroom.
I ate an orange yesterday and air popped popcorn.
Day before that? Like 8 almonds.
How the Fuck am I still functioning so well?!
Nobody, well now besides you guys, know about the diet pills. The rational side of me knows this is no good, plus with the throwing up, and laxatives. My body must be as damn stubborn as I am.
Lord, I cannot wait for an “oh shit” moment…. Something has to give.
My body isn’t gonna give in, I’m slightly jealous of the people with physical, medical issues because they go 2 days without eating…you lucky bastards.
It’s almost 5 now. I’m so damn cold
While looking into places I saw Castlewood, which looks really nice. I watched a video about it and the nutritionists were talking. They showed food being prepared and I almost lost it. Salad, some rice type food, cauliflower, possibly mashed potatoes, and something that looks fried. Omg I started to cry. The mere thought of going to these places and having to eat something other than my “safe foods” is scary as shit. I can’t eat that shit.
Ugh so stressed. And I have a race today. I guess laxatives weren’t a good decision.