It takes me forever to get dressed. Everything I put on I see bulging. I need to invest in big clothes so people can't see how big I've become.
I've cut my calories in half over the past few weeks and yet I'm still a cow. Today I've eaten 300 calories. I'm at my fiancée family dinner. Not sure I'll get away with getting rid of it. So I'll have to work it off.
By Christmas I wanna be thin again. I'll go so far as buy supplements to reduce my appetite.
I'm planning an ED relapse. My meds have caused A LOT of it so I'm going to stop taking those. People say they don't really do anything for me anyway so I should test it.
Lunch: nothing (if I have to I'll eat and then purge it at work)
Dinner: just a little so my fiancé doesn't expect anything. If she leaves then I'll purge it.
Exercise: walk/run every day.
Diet pills: a must. Multiple times a day
I NEED to lose 20lbs so that I can fit back into my clothes again.
Eating disorder recovery is NOT about getting fat and being ok with it. It's becoming healthy and yet my fucking meds have me turning into my fat ass mother! That will NOT be me. I'll make myself crazy before that happens.
In recovery there will be times when things can get difficult. I'm coming up on 6 months clean and I'm having a very difficult time.
Now that I have some time, I believe that I can have control over using. I feel like I can drink and use pot without doing other things. They say if you have this thought process your reserving space for a relapse.
I want to feel rebellious again. I wanna have this feeling like "fuck the man!" Not only that but I'm now HUGE! I mean to the point where I want to resort to anything to get this weight off. Everyone thinks I look healthy but all I see is 50lbs that need to be shed. I even talked to my counselor about it but she was more concerned about the fact that I'm experiencing a lot of dissociation.
I just don't know how to handle everything. I feel like I've lost all control. That my world is just going on all by itself and I have no say.
Today: fiancé caused me to be 45 min late to work.
Work: program not up and running. Awaiting benefits exam results. A coworker/program partner is a charged thief and forger and in the middle of a court case for stealing medications. Causing paranoia in me that she'll steal something from me. Has only been employed a week and hasn't worked a full week yet.
Medical: frequent nosebleeds. Headaches. Elbow and wrist pain from them being broken a few years back. Bursa in my foot.
Weight: heaviest I've ever been in my life. People think I look great.
Addiction: feeling like I don't qualify. Garbage can addict.
That's enough to cause anyone anxiety. For me I have a generalized anxiety disorder so all of that is causing me to go overboard. Not only because I have those things going on but just the day to day anxiety. I talked to my doctor about it and he put me back on Ativan. So now I have to worry about my fiancé not getting into that.
There's so much going on I'm trying to keep it together. I feel like I'm slipping into a depression. I just want to be ok. I hate that there's always a battle in my head. All I want is to be healthy and happy.
What’s the point of living in recovery? They say it’s so that we can be “productive members of society.” I don’t want to be an acceptable and productive member of society. Aligning myself to those standards makes me live like every other fucking person in the world. I get up, go to work, make dinner and then go to bed. We do that same routine every fucking day for the next 40 years. How pointless is that?
What do we live for? We have a whole world to experience and we won’t be able to experience even half of it.
We are a controlled society. Just a human machine governed by the governments to make sure we don’t get out of hand. We work day in and day out just so that we can live paycheck to paycheck and put more money in the pockets of those who don’t need it.
Using drugs was like saying “fuck the man! I don’t give a shit what you say!” Now that I’m in “recovery” I’m just bowing down and submitting to their terms on how to live in their governed society.
They say in recovery that there are times in early recovery where you ride on this pink cloud and feel like “I got this.” The urges to use aren’t something that really take a toll on you and you can usually handle them.
I most definitely was riding on a pink cloud. Mine has now popped and blown away. The urges to use are extreme. Thinking about using gets me excited. I see bottles with controlled substance stickers on them and instantly want to see if it’s my drug of choice…or something better.
Songs, shows or discussion in meetings about angel dust get me going really bad. I start thinking about how I’ll get some and/or how I’ll combine them with other things. I think about how all the weight I’ve gained will come off quickly.
That’s the next thing. I’ve gained a substantial amount of weight. My counselor is helping me to eat right but all I see is a growing belly and big thighs. My head keeps screaming at me about my weight gain and how I need to shed some of it. I keep trying to wake up in the morning to exercise but I can never seem to get up. This stupid medication works wonders for my mental illness but for my weight it kills me. I’ve even thought about getting those vitamins that curb your appetite, at least until I can control my eating urges.
I’ve told myself that once my Ben and Jerrys ice cream is gone (there’s not much left) that I’ll go on a detox to jump start my system.
I NEED to have overall wellness. I have to take it seriously so I can live a good life and start a family.
Today is 90 days and June 1st. My fiancé is not moving back in today. In March we discussed June 1st and then at the end of April she said June 1st and then in the middle of May she said June 1st. It’s June 1st and it’s not happening.
They say recovery is wonderful and gives you many gifts but so far I don’t have any gifts. I have an empty house with a dog that misbehaves so badly that I want to get rid of him. I’m beginning to feel like all of this is bullshit. I don’t want to spend so much fucking time going to meetings and meeting with my sponsor if all of this is a waste of my time.
What I have learned is not to hope for anything. Most times you’ll be disappointed. All I have been is disappointed since this recovery bullshit has started. I’d rather be fucking high all the time and miserable instead of miserable and clean.