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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Terrible Twenty-Twos

 

Overall, life is going great.

I can throw on the fake smile and explain to you how crazy it feels to have a career starting.

A career as a Biochemist.

Honestly, How fucking cool is that?

I can sit here and tell you about this guy. Not just the first date we went on, but two, within three days. How he makes me laugh, his gorgeous eyes and teeth.

I’ll go ahead and tell you how I love my apartment.

Candles,

Decorating,

Cleaning.

I’d even go so far as to take a picture of my fridge and all of the fresh produce in it and post it on social media, with the caption, “Not gonna lie, my fridge makes me happy.”

I can also sit here and tell you I ate under 800 calories today.

That the thought of buying laxatives and diet pills flooded my brain, more than once.

Feeling constantly torn and pulled in two completely opposite directions.

Thinking about higher calorie foods I need to                                                                                                       get, so I can get the calories in.

Then making a bet with myself                                                                                                                           I can go the rest of the week without eating.

It has gotten to the point where I just don’t want to talk about it.

It annoys me,

it annoys K,

it annoys T.

I am waiting for them to say the “Just fucking eat.”                                                                                                                 Cure all remedy.

Not to be mean, but just because they are out of things to say.

This is how I imagine a two year old would have a fit.

In this case, it is a recipe, of pure denial, mixed with shame, sprinkled with a dash of apathy.

But hey, I can act like a two year old, ignore it, get upset when it gets brought up.

Then, act like a twenty two year old and completely immerse myself into my work to avoid anything else.

Updated my “About Me”. Mental hospital, recovery, family disowned, biology major.

About.

Not sure how long it has been since I updated my “About” section… probably a long time ago.

So here is a more vulnerable, open “About” post. About my ED, recovering, mentally unstable not supportful family, purging.

Progressively Worse.

Sitting at work today, I once again had no energy to actually get up and run around with my children, plus my laxatives were flooding my system, my boss (the principal) came in and pulled me into the hallway. I had mentioned it to my other boss that I might be missing work, and she told the principal. I am looking into residential treatment in December, they don’t know that, they don’t need to know that, all they needed to know was that I would be missing work for an extended amount of time.

She came in and pulled me into the hallway. She knew that I was concerned about how to go about missing so many days. She informed me I would have to get a doctor’s note, etc. She kept pushing the subject about it being “medical”? and that it was so long, I told her worse comes to worse if everything goes through I can always just give you a two weeks notice… to which she nicely said wasn’t necessary… if it was medical… 

It hit me really hard on the way home from work that I am just getting progressively worse. 

Last year I would eat Clif bars, bread, eggs, I looked forward to Fall because I got to have pumpkin stuff and my favorite, pumpkin lattes. I tried having a pumpkin latte about a week ago, I freaked out and puked it up. I can’t eat anything that I haven’t physically made, or been made in front of me. I tried to eat a salad at a restaurant and I couldn’t do it. My sister got home from dinner the other day, came over to me and took a drink of my water. That used to not bother me, and it wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t just eaten dinner. I was so worried that something she ate, oil, grease, something, was still on her lips and that I would touch consume it. Now I know this isn’t logical, but I am freaking the fuck out. No Clif bars, no eggs, no bread, no peanut butter. I am going insane. Dinner tonight consists of a cup of tea, a handful of laxatives, and a handful of hydroxycut. 

You Can Lead Me To The Kitchen, But You Can’t Make Me Eat.

The past few days have been flat out horrible, and they keep getting worse. After work today I decided to go to my family’s house. I was so flustered and upset about my past couple days I sat down and started my homework as my little sibs ran circles around me.
I got more bad news, told my mom behind tears, “I just can’t deal with this shit right now.” and went back to my homework. Trying desperately not to start bawling at any second.
Well, then my step dad got home. Him and my brother wanted to go to a buffet for dinner. The panic started to fill up. Mom knew about my ED, she knew I was already upset. She coaxed my other sibs into going with their brother and dad for dinner while her and I stayed behind and she worked on my most recent bad news.
After a while she looked up and said, “What do you want for dinner?” I looked up and responded, “grapes.” which I had been munching on while doing my homework at the time. She began to list off foods, none of which sounded appealing.
“Do you want a tomato and corn? *holding up fresh produce*”
“Maybe tomato, do we have balsamic vinegar?”
“Yeah, do you want a sandwich?”
“No.”
“A tomato sandwich?”
“No.”
“You could make an egg with peppers and onions.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
My little sister walked in the door and asked if she could help (she had just gotten home after her dinner outting).
I said of course and let her cut the onion, peppers, etc. I cracked the egg, carefully letting the egg white slide into the cup for my sister to whisk, while the yolk and shell went in the garbage.
So, I had made an egg with onion, mushroom, peppers, garlic and tomato. And there it sat, on the stove, untouched.
My littlest brother said something about wanting a mushroom, and mom flipped out, “That is your sister’s food, no!” “I was going to get one out of the fridge.”
I don’t want to eat. The laxatives are still in my system. I’m not hungry. I’m so damn stressed.
You can lead a disordered person to the kitchen, but you can’t make them eat. So, when mom left the kitchen to go read to my brother, the egg “accidentally” managed to make it perfectly down the drain for the garbage disposable to devour.
I’m only getting worse.

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... 
 

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.