Pull Out An Umbrella? Or, Dance In The Rain?

My mood crashed last night as it does most evenings. I usually wake up feeling more refreshed and energized, but I woke up feeling like there was a cloud hanging over my head. I wanted to force it away, to 'pull myself together' and get on with what I had planned for the day but I couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that seems to have taken over my brain during the night. Nothing is really 'wrong'- I just feel down. It's hard when there is no trigger for an emotion- you can' rationalise it or think it through. It's just THERE, permeating every breath, every muscle, every thought, every moment.

My normal way to handle this would be to exercise- walk until I was too tired to think or feel anymore. Bury my head in notepads making meal plans and force my brain to focus on micro nutrients rather than face up to how bad I felt.

I didn't do either today. I went for a walk, taking my cloud with me. We explored a new area of town and bought a jar of peanut butter (finally found PB and Co again!). We went to TK Max to look for a spring jacket. We had a long shower and cleaned the apartment. Me and the cloud. It's still there. I still feel sad. But I'm just accepting that for now, this cloud is present. I don't have to run away from it or block it out- I can just see it for what it is, and wait for it to move on.

***********

Some food?

I couldn't resist buying these when I saw them the other day in the store.


Sausage rolls (do you guys call them something else?) always remind me of picnics and birthday parties when I was really little. I didn't know if I'd still like them, but they were delicious and a nice trip down memory lane.


With roasted asparagus and steamed green beans. Still no luck hunting down Amy's meals, but Quorn products are quickly becoming a staple in my diet.

Breakfast was cheesecake mashed/melted banana mixed with bran flakes and Fage cherry twin pot, mixed together and soaked overnight. I KNOW it looks gross, but trust me- it's AMAZING!


Snack:


Served warm... I like the cinnamon roll flavour much better, but there is something awesome about the texture of these bars. It's kind of like a half-baked cookie and so fun to eat!

Happy Hump Day everyone! (Nobody in the UK says 'hump day' and my mom always thinks I am being rude, haha...)

Patience

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment on yesterday's long post. I'm definitely feeling better this morning. I really do think that baby steps are the way forward- as frustrating as it it at times to be reminded of quite how far I have to go, it's also important to recognise how far I have already come. I'd much rather take my time and build a solid foundation for recovery this time, rather than rushing into "LIFE" and have it all come crashing down, leaving me back at square one. Patience isn't one of my strong points, but I think that I can probably use this as a positive thing in my recovery to keep my eye on the bigger goals I have in the long-term to use as momentum to keep pushing.

Have a great day everyone- weekend is almost here! I am leaving soon to go see my new apartment so a bundles of nerves and excitement this morning. I'll update later!

"Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves ...
Don't search for the answers,
which could not be given to you now,
because you would not be able to live them.
And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps then, someday far in the future,
you will gradually, without even noticing it,
live your way into the answer."

- rainer maria rilke

Baby Steps... Oh, Baby- Rip Off The Band-Aid and Start Striding

Tonight was the long-awaited phone call with my therapist in New York. I had emailed him a couple of weeks ago, before I had been offered a place at the supported housing project, to inquire about reapplying to do the dialectical behavioural therapy program I left prematurely in 07. The program is pretty demanding emotionally, and requires a certain level of stability with symptoms- I was starting to spiral downwards and had to leave- the recommendation was that I entered an eating disorder specific residential program, but I didn't have insurance coverage for that so was left with no option but to return to the UK.

I don't know why I have such high hopes for this program, or why I so desperately want to return to New York and complete the 6 months. I think that I am becoming increasingly frustrated with how slow my progress has been and want something more intensive to really propel me forward.

I've written about the difference between the two health care systems before- the high hopes of my team in the US for a full recovery (like ripping off a band-aid) and the s...l...o...w... way of working here. I am under the eating disorders team and I am giving my therapy sessions my all, but I find it really hard to hold onto much hope when the expectations seem so low. I want to be FREE from this completely- to suddenly be "okay" with food, health, life. To have a job, be living independently, to not be controlled by rules and rituals and compulsions. When I was receiving treatment in the US, I was really thrown in at the deep end. Quite a challenge for someone who hasn't been in full-time education since the age of 12 and pretty much grew up in hospital. I suddenly found myself being discharged from inpatient at a healthy weight, working at Starbucks, living by myself and taking college classes. It was weird. In a GOOD way. It gave me a taste of what life COULD be like. But in a lot of ways, it's made things so much harder for me- to have that all, and lose it all.

My team now want me to take this one class for 2 hours a week and not take on anything else (work, study, etc). We set small goals each week around socialising, food, etc. It's working for me- as in, it's sustainable. I'm not rushing into things, taking on too much only to have it crashing down around me. My team seem to have learned from my past history- so why is it so hard for me to do the same?

I guess I am just angry with myself for still being so stuck in this dysfunctional state when I know there is so much more out there, and having tasted it, want it more than ever.

I can't figure out why New York represents "health" so much for me. Or why I cling to the idea that I can only truly recover if I am in America. It doesn't make sense, certainly isn't based on evidence and is only further fueling my frustration. I have been working really hard at just accepting where I am right now- both with my recovery, and the more concrete facts of where I am living, the treatment I have available to me here and what that involves.

It's really hard for me to NOT compare myself to other people. I know I am not alone in my struggles with food and weight, but I feel so inadequate to others who somehow manage to go to school, work, etc. I don't know if I am just lazy? I don't know if I need to just somehow Nike-style "DO IT" or if for me, baby-steps are the only way. I should know by now that for whatever reason, just "doing it" doesn't quite work out. It's just painfully difficult for me to accept that *this* is how things are. Not that I won't keep working towards my goals, I'm just frustrated with how long and drawn out this all seems, and whether I am making things worse for myself. I feel like I can DO all these things- I can work, go to school, eat in a restaurant, deal with whatever stress life throws my way. But only for a very short space of time. Days, weeks, months- it doesn't matter. I just haven't been able to sustain things for any significant period of time without falling to pieces. Again and again.

Anyway... Back on topic. The outcome of the phone call was that the program doesn't think I am stable enough to return at this point for various reasons. This is just bizarre to me because my team here are perfectly happy with how I am doing/the way things are going. I WANT to try things here with moving into my apartment, carrying on with the small goals, and if TIME wasn't an issue, I'd be happy to do this and reapply for the program when I can stand up and say, "that was where I WAS, this is where I AM and I am ready to take it to the next level". BUT, I only have insurance in the US until October so it DOES feel like a "now or never" thing. Because it IS. I know that I am working towards that place where I can proudly say, "this is where I am NOW" but it doesn't feel like progress because I'm not there yet.

New Year, New Start

I've been impressed reading people's new year's resolutions on their blogs. I'm not one for making resolutions at the start of a new year- I tend to set goals as I go along, and continuously reassess if they are working, and what tweaks need to be made.

Apparently that is my problem.

Always switching gears, changing direction. Ploughing forward with one thing, fumbling, giving up/burning myself into the ground, falling flat on my face and retreating into the shadows once more. I never really thought about it like this. I always viewed it as a personal failure- evidence of my own sheer inadequacy, rather than perhaps considering that I have bitten off more than I can chew ('scuse the pun!). Time after time, I plunge forward then wonder why I lose my footing- why *I* can't cope with what other people can.

I had therapy today and I think it has been the most productive as yet. I've been seeing this therapist on and off for about 3 years now. The "on and off" has been due to me coming back to Scotland for just a few months at a time before setting off on a new adventure. She's seen the ups and downs, the plunges and falls, the building up and crumbling down. Today we looked back and I saw it too. The pattern of starting slowly, then as soon as I feel slightly more stable, feeling guilty that I am not doing more/achieving more...hell, BEING more. The perfectionist in me leaps out and I run to the next thing. I can do voluntary work for 4 hours a week? Okay- after a month I'll move to a different country and work 60 hours a week. I can make a balanced breakfast without support? Okay- I'll move into my own place and take on the world.

Seriously. This seems to be how I work.

The challenge now, having recognised it, is to change this pattern. Commit to take things slow. Assess, with my therapist, how it's going. To bitch and whine about the "itchy feet". To recognise the need to strive for more (and more and more and more) without acting on it. To ignore the thoughts about other people judging me, thinking I am lazy/stupid/crazy/useless. Ignore the assumption that everyone expects me to move out and get a job and do all the things *I* feel I should be doing right now.

It's day 1 and I am already struggling. I feel guilty for flicking through facebook when I could be filling out job application forms. I feel guilty for watching TV when I should be house hunting. I feel guilty listening to my therapist and following her advice because I'm worried that I am using it as an excuse to be lazy, to do too little. I want to move out, to get a job, to just be NORMAL and it's painful to think that *this* might be the way to DO just that, in a sustainable way.

It's quite the challenge. Sounded easy in her office, but oy...just a few hours later and I'm climbing the walls.

Life Isn't A Game. There Are No Winners.

Wow...it feels like a long time since my last post, and it feels almost foreign right now as I read it back. A lot happened after writing my previous entry. I ended up back in hospital for a few days. It was decided that I could be discharged on the understanding that I return to Scotland and live with my mom. The alternative was to stay in the acute psychiatric unit until the eating disorders team picked up my treatment (they were offering 10 outpatient sessions, starting in January). None of the options appealed much, but I decided that moving back to Scotland would be the best bet for now. For a few reasons. All of which I seem to have forgotten since my plane landed last night.

BUT, as unhappy as I am about living with my mom again, I am feeling a strange sense of optimism. London felt almost as New York did last summer- one knock-back after another, doors closed in my face, everything just crumbling.

I did have some amazing conversations whilst I was in the hospital and in the day following my discharge. Not with psychiatric patients, not with mental health professionals, not with my family. But with people my age who I happened to meet (where they worked- in Starbucks, at the airport, or on the bus). I don't know quite what it was about these conversations that touched me so deeply. Perhaps how peaceful they felt. They didn't have high-flying jobs. They didn't live in great apartments, struggle to get through each day. They seemed content with what they had. They were a pleasure to talk to, to be with. Just to have NORMAL conversations about random stuff. I don't know if it was just the stark contrast between the thoughts tumbling around my head at the time and the mundaneness of everyday life, but it really did make me think about my situation and how I am NEVER content with what I have. I put a tremendous amount of pressure on myself in any given situation to be the best, to strive harder, to push further. Inevitably my standards become completely unattainable and I shrink back into the shadows of my eating disorder because I *know* I am good at that.

So, yes. Being around for the last week has introduced me to a world that was (and still mostly is) alien to me. A world of contentment, acceptance, recognising what is REALLY important, what life is REALLY about. No, our conversations didn't get to that level ;) BUT just interacting with these people has opened my eyes a little and given me lots of food for thought...

Progress

I'm starting to feel better. My thoughts are clearer, I feel, overall, safer. I am spending as much time as possible out of the hospital, walking the streets, playing "normal"- what started as an act, is becoming a reality. I have started reading again. Spending less time on the internet and more time relaxing. I curl up on my bed, book in one hand, head rested on the other, and lose myself amongst the words in my novels. It's an escape, similar to that which I get from anorexia. A break from reality- transported to a land of make believe. It's refreshing. Calming.

Things remain uncertain about future plans. I'd be lying if I said I am okay with this. I like to know what's happening, like to plan, like to make elaborate lists and charts and know the exact who/what/when/where/whys of any given scenario. Right now, all I can do is wait. And wait. I can't speed up the process- simply have to accept that it IS a process, it DOES take time and I need to practice acceptance and patience with that which I have no control over at this point.

One day at a time.

Lost

I have been sitting in my room all evening, thinking, planning, reminiscing. Out of nowhere, it all seemed to make sense. I've been avoiding thinking about the last few months. The last 2 years. Ever since I went to New York for treatment...all the time that has passed between now and then. The amazing people I met, the amazing taste of a life without anorexia I had briefly, the amazing opportunities that were handed to me, and how fucked up. Time, after time, after time.

I miss New York more than I can say. Not a day goes by when I don't think about it, dream about it, ache for it. I miss what I had- my friends, my family, therapy, goals, and most importantly, hope.

I've avoided thinking about it in depth because at this point, it's dangerous. I tried, and almost succeeded, to kill myself 3 weeks ago. I genuinely did want to die, and I still do. I don't see a way out of this. There is too much reality tied in with my emotions now. This isn't a chemical depression- this is the cold, hard reality of the choices I made, the mistakes I made, the trail of destruction/pain/heartache/anger I have left behind me.

I don't think I have the strength to make another attempt. And that is almost worse. It wasn't a decision I came to easily, or a path that I wanted to walk down. I simply saw no alternative out of this hellish existence I created for myself.

I want so much, and it hurts. It hurts because I can't HAVE it. There is no tangible reason for WHY I can't have it- it's not overly ambitious, not extravagant in any way/shape/form. I have tried, and tried, and tried again to make it work, make it happen, make my dreams come true.

Accepting that it may never become a reality for me is not sitting well.

I feel shaken, agitated, angry, hopeless. I sit and I drift off into the fantasy of what life could be like. I feel powerful, happy, excited. I think about the past and tears run down my face, my body cold and limp. I stare at the ceiling and count. One, two, three, four. Anything to make the memories stop. I count calories, protein grams, fat grams, sodium, sugar, fibre. I calculate weight in kilos, pounds. BMI, RMR. Numbers, numbers, numbers. Anything to block out the relentless stream of questions in my head: "why did I do...", "why did that...", "how can I...".

I want so much and yet so little at the same time. My brain is split by conflict that I need to resolve. Somehow, somewhere, someday.

The Old Cliches Ring True

I must have typed up and deleted about 6 entries by now. I don’t know if I am just tired, or depressed, or *what* exactly, but I feel horrible. There is nothing tangible that is wrong- I have a lot of anxiety right now about various things. But also just a lot of “ickiness” that I can’t even put into words.

I feel strange. One part of me is so excited about everything that is starting to open up for me right now, and the other part just wants to curl up in a ball forever. I’m so scared and I don’t know why.

Maybe I don’t need to know why? Maybe I just need to accept the fear without analyzing it? I think that an analytical route right now is probably a bad idea. I don’t have any kind of support right now, I can’t do anything to jeopardise work/college at the moment, and really? I think I need to stop thinking so much!

- focus on what is going well for me
- focus on the task at hand (getting through tonight, getting through classes tomorrow)
- stop worrying so much about the things I can’t do anything about right now
- accept that I have this depression/niggling anxiety, but it’s ONLY a feeling
- do the things I CAN do in order to (excuse the psychobabble) minimise the vulnerability I have to negative emotions (eat properly, get a decent amount of sleep…all that jazz)

More than just “wake up, breathe, keep breathing…” My goals are oh-so-simple, and yet oh-so-complicated. Take it one.day.at.a.time.

There's No Method To This Madness

I feel so divided right now between what I am doing, and what I should be doing. I know better than this. Years of treatment have forever entrenched into my head that I do indeed need to eat. And yet, deep down, at my core, I don't believe that it's necessary. I don't see why it's so essential. I know the science, the facts, the physiological reasons behind nourishing the body, and yet on an emotional level, it seems so unnecessary, so absurd, so self-indulgent.

I feel like I should be taking better care of myself, and then find myself questioning, "why?". What have I done to deserve to eat? What have I done to deserve to feel strong and healthy? What is the point in taking on energy when I don't particularly want to face whatever challenge tomorrow brings?

Then of course, there is the basic survival mechanism that kicks in. I'm sleeping a maximum of 3-4 hours a night. My feet feel numb and tingly, my body shivering, my thoughts racing, my nights haunted by images of food leaving me stumbling around the house at 3am, weighing myself, just to 'make sure' that it was, indeed, nothing more than a dream.

It hit me today that I am back in the UK- yes, it's taken a while. It also hit me what I have left behind. I feel like a piece of ME was left behind. I started crying as I was waiting for the bus...on my way "home", and yet feeling like "home" doesn't exist anymore. I am so incredibly lonely here. I miss my friends, I miss my regular therapy appointments, I miss having reasons to get up each day, a purpose. I miss what could have been, rather than what *was*. I am still clinging to this fantasy that I have in my head about how life in New York COULD have been. And yet wasn't. It wasn't until today that I started to miss it, romanticise it, want to try again.

But I can't.

I am left trying to pick up the pieces or the horrible mess I am left with, and falling apart in the process.

I have no sense of what I want to do right now. Until today, I have been completely shut off from feeling anything, and now the heartache has set in. The numbness that initial restriction brings is starting to wear off, and there is an aching longing, yearning, wanting...for something that I don't know if I can ever have back again.

Pick myself up, dust myself off, start all over again, right? No. It doesn't work like that. Radical acceptance? Perhaps. Or maybe more of a begrudging acceptance. This is what happened, this is where I am now. How do I deal with it? I don't know the answer to that. All I know is that it hurts like hell, more than I will ever be able to put into words, and that I am dealing with it the only way I can right now.

Waiting For The Peak, Waiting For The Fall

I'm sitting here, trying to focus on something other than food. My thoughts are racing, my heart is pounding through my chest and it's all I can do to just SIT and not grab my bag and start walking (where I would go at this time of night, I have no idea). I feel like the walls are closing in on me, the floor is tilting at funny angles, it's hard to catch my breath, to think, to read, to write. Where is this coming from? Today has been, in my book, a pretty good day. I'm not fighting urges to purge or exercise, not having intense thoughts of self-hatred/self-destruction, I'm just anxious.

Just anxious? Really? That sounds so undermining. This feeling is REAL, dammit. I am anxious as hell, my brain feels like it's about to explode. I want to scream, throw things, run, but am almost paralysed by the intensity of this fear.

I'm okay.

I am overtired, stressed, coming down from far too much caffeine earlier today and probably (definitely) haven't eaten enough. All factors which, according to DBT, increase vulnerability to negative emotions (don't ya love the lingo? "you know you've been in therapy too long when...")

I need to step back. Regroup. Remind myself that as bad as this feels right now, it will pass. Anxiety cannot rise forever. It will peak, and fall, and meanwhile...yeah, I'll feel crappy. But I don't need to do anything now that is going to make it worse in the long-run.

Focus on the things I achieved today (I was pretty productive for a change!), focus on the task at hand (unwinding for the night- I've been up since 4am) and accept this anxiety without judging it, and let it pass...

Home, and Homesick

I feel like I should update. Or rather, I feel like I should have something to say. Anything to say. The truth is that things feel pretty strange and foreign right now. I am back in the UK and struggling to adapt to the weather, my treatment team's polar opposite approach to what I had in the US, different foods, living with my mom again.

It's hard. It's tiring. I am homesick, and yet have no desire to return to New York right now. I am not unhappy *here* per se, just overwhelmed by the differences between my life here and my life there.

I thought I would miss it more than I have- maybe I am still a little jet-lagged, maybe it's a kind of "honeymoon" period, maybe I have just accepted that NY isn't an option for me right now, but I feel relieved to be back. I am sleeping a lot and grappling with ideas about where/when/how to move out of my mom's place. Not sure where I fit in, or what I want to be doing in 3/6/9 months. Wondering if things are going to get wildly out of control, or if my rather tenuous grip on reality will grow stronger.

I have been having the thoughts of "symptoms" the last few days, which I hadn't had for a while. First I was focused on getting/keeping a job, then life kind of took over, then it seemed pointless to ruin my last few weeks in New York. Now I have a huge blank future lying ahead of me and I want to sink into what's familiar and predictable. I am trying to ride out the urges, let the thoughts be little more than thoughts, and just take things day by day, minute by minute.

It's Only Pain...

...it only hurts.

It passes. Feelings pass, thoughts pass. Everything passes in time. The key being, "in time"- riding the waves, rolling with the punches. There is nothing you need to DO about thoughts and feelings, except wait them out.

This sounds kind of trite and undermining- I don't mean it to. It seems to be true though. If I have a thought, a feeling, an urge- as long as I don't dwell on it or act on it, it dissipates in time. The more I think about it, the stronger it gets as I give it more power, until it is all-consuming and I can't see another option BUT to act on it. By accepting the thought as it is ("it's JUST a thought"), without giving it more power than it merits, it passes.

The Future: a blank canvas or a black hole?..

The last couple of weeks have been intense and painful, but today I feel better. Peaceful. Free. I slept for 6 hours last night, which is a lot for me. I've spent the day by myself, but instead of panicking about endless hours to fill and crazy thoughts bouncing around my head, I've felt hopeful and optimistic about the coming months.

I figure I can look at this in two ways.

1) Everything has fallen apart, I am leaving my friends and the city I love, to be, essentially, homeless. No job, no friends, nowhere to live, nothing to do. Feeling lost, hurt, angry, resentful, lonely.

OR

2) I am leaving one life, and have a blank canvas in front of me to start another. I have a few different choices about what I'll do, but there is no rush to make any decisions. I'll wait until I am back, then see how things pan out...do what I can with what I have. There ARE options for me- I just need to find the path I want to walk down, and somewhere along the line, I'll find a place to call "home".

There are facts to consider about the coming months, which influence which view I take depending on whatever mindset I happen to be in. It's not all doom and gloom...it's far from peachy either. There are very valid concerns about the choices I am going to have to make. Lots to think about, lots to research, and a little too much reliance on others (I am NOT comfortable "needing" other people).

I think what I really need to do is sit down and figure out where I want to be in 6 months/a year. Not physically, but what I would like my life to LOOK like. What I want to be doing, where I want to be in my recovery, what shape I want my world to take...then backtrack and figure out the best plan of action to get from here to there.

Without doing what I keep doing, and falling into the hole where I do nothing but panic and the prospect of "life" is too overwhelming to even consider being a part of.

Whatever I think, say or do, time is going to pass. This is going to happen. I am leaving New York. I am going to have to make decisions, compromises, sacrifices. I am going to feel a sense of loss. The sun is going to rise and fall, regardless of whether or not I want it to. I want to make the hands of time STOP until I can think things through, but really...I need to get to work on accepting what IS, rather than wishing for what ISN'T.