I initially did not want to vent about my struggles with an eating disorder on this blog, for my sake because it has pretty much consumed the majority of my life, but also because I didn’t think anyone would want to hear it, but today I just need to get some frustrations off my chest. If you are struggling/are easily triggered please do not read the following post. I would never want to be responsible for making another’s journey any more difficult than it has to be…
I started my journey September 2009, right after my wedding. A friend suggested I pay a visit to the Hershey Medical Center Eating Disorder Clinic because my weight had dropped significantly in a relatively short amount of time. At first I chalked it up to being a result of planning a wedding, graduating college, starting my first “real” job and
signing my life away, purchasing my own home. Those are stressful things right? They took a lot of time and prevented me from nourishing myself the way I should have been. I still, however, found plenty of time in the morning for my daily runs and gym visits…
When the outpatient program at Hershey did not work, they placed my in a day program. Lunch and dinner was spent with a group of others who had the same “struggles” with food and exercise. At this point I was not convinced I had a problem. Healthy people run! Healthy people watch what they eat! Why was my family punishing me for wanting to be healthy?!?
In December my weight continued to drop despite 5 days a week in a partial program. In an attempt to appease my family I entered my first inpatient stay. What a different world. I was at Princeton Hospital, living with a roommate, being watched a good 2/3 of the day, forced to eat everything on my plate, no exercise and at Christmas time! I am not proud to admit this but after 3 weeks of being there, I begged my husband Ryan to take me home. I cried, I pleaded, I manipulated my father, my husband, and my mother to come get me right away. I promised I could continue my meal plan at home. I promised I would not run anymore. I promised to turn my life, and in turn theirs, around. I manipulated those I loved most to get what I wanted….THE HELL OUT OF THERE!
They agreed as long as I went back to Hershey for another go at their partial program. Well, long story short a few months later Ryan was driving me to Tennessee to a residential treatment center because I could not keep even one of the promises I made.
After 60 days there I again convinced everyone I was ready to come home. I was fixed! I ate my first cookie, I could go out to a restaurant without freaking out, I survived without a treadmill or weights. Yeah right, I was an addict! It is pathetic now that I’m writing this but I worked out in my gosh darn bathroom nearly every day that I was there! I mashed up my peanut butter in the packet to make it look like I consumed most of it. I was pretty much the most deceitful, horrible patient ever. And yet I fooled everyone into thinking I was totally fine to be home.
Back to Hershey…and then the story repeats. December 2010 I signed a medical release stripping myself of all medical rights and decisions because my weight dropped to the lowest it had ever been. My mother, Ryan and my sister pleaded with me to stick this one out. Now think about this. Really an eating disorder is one of the worst things you could do for your body. Statistics show it is pretty darn fatal and yet none of this registered to me. It still doesn’t some days. I fall victim to the “it wont happen to me” syndrome. But I can say I stayed at Brandywine until I was “honorably” discharged. I came home around Christmas at the healthiest weight I had been in over 2 years and on some days I even felt ok….
Until I started body checking and putting on old clothes, comparing myself to others and spinning everyone’s comments to me into the most negative light possible. Now, 6 months later I feel like I am back at square one. Maybe not numerically but mentally.
I started seeing my Nutritionist and Therapist again on a more regular basis and attempting to follow their guidelines. ATTEMPTING. Here is where I am asking for help. PLEASE.
Can anyone help with the difficulty I am having at following my meal plan? The guilt is overwhelming. Every inch of my brain is saying, “CJ you don’t need this much. Delores is crazy to tell you your body needs this much food to survive. You don’t deserve to have the things everyone else does. You are going to hate yourself even more if you even think about putting that in your mouth!”
And then I have trouble dealing with the insatiable hunger. Has anyone else experienced this? I remember from other times in recovery where I was just always hungry. Everything sounded good and I could eat everything on my meal plan, but this was usually when I was in the hospital surrounded by others who had to follow similar plans, and I had major after-meal support. My husband is awesome. Has been totally supportive for the last few years (at some point I’ll give you guys a little more Ryan history) but I was hoping someone who has gone through this may be able to give me some more advice…
What did you do about your appetite? Did it scare you? How did you get over the guilt?
I apologize this entry was so long and I realize how horrible of a person I probably sound like in the preceding paragraphs as I describe myself as manipulative and a con artist, but I can assure you that is my addict side which I am not proud of at all. I really do pride myself on being a nice, caring person, I just need help right now. I feel very defeated and although most times I hate asking for support I think I need it right now. Any encouraging words, or advice would be greatly appreciated. Thanks and have a great day!