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.
I still haven’t been able to feel much as of late. I sense that I’m depressed due to my lack of motivation and being considerably tired all the time. I went to my NA home group on Monday and celebrated 60 days…although I’m 69 days clean. While there I shared and asked for “experience, strength and hope.” The most I got from them was one woman who hadn’t cried in almost two years during her early recovery. Other people stated how they are “emotional roller coasters.” During my first 45 days I was an emotional wreck. I was so depressed that I’d lay on my bathroom floor for hours crying and barely able to move. Then all of a sudden it stopped.
I’m not a doctor. I’m only a masters student in clinical mental health. But from the research I’ve conducted my body has gone into “protective mode.” It means subconsciously my mind felt it was feeling too much so it decided to not allow me to feel anything at all. It’s frustrating because I don’t know how to tell myself that it’s ok to feel. That I’ve learned tools over the last five months that could help me through some of those feelings. What I’m nervous about is when i eventually explode with all the emotions that have been building up.
Looking back I mostly definitely looked forward to using when I went into these states because although I may not have been able to feel emotions, I could at least feel high. The tough part is having to endure this clean and without the support of my eating disorder.
Going back to using wouldn’t kill me right away. Relapsing with my eating disorder will. Regardless both could lead me to institutions or death. I’m not currently feeling suicidal at all.
I see my counselor on Saturday. I will discuss some of what’s been going on. Maybe she’ll find ways to help my mind stop utilizing this method of protection.
All I can do right now is stay focused on my recovery and learn as I go along.
Part of the reason I engaged in self-destructive behaviors is because there would be times when all I left was numb. And all I wanted to do was feel something. This week has been one of those times. All week it has been a struggle to remain in a recovery mindset. Such a struggle that I am exhausted from keeping myself in recovery.
I’ve definitely been tempted to go ahead and disregard recovery all together. Then there were times when I said “I’ll just stay in recovery from drugs, but I can resume my eating disorder behaviors.” And then I met someone who is going through a physical illness and is so thin it’s painful to look at. That got my mind racing. Since amphetimeans were a big issue for me I thought of resuming them so I could be that thin.
I had to do a lot of reaching out this week. Ana was talking so loudly. And then when I wouldn’t listen Mia started to drop hints of times I could compensate for my food intake. In turn I wasn’t sleeping well or at all and so that just wanted to make me use.
My OCD has been really bad lately probably because I can’t utilize my other ways of dealing with the anxiety I have. The medication they use to treat it can’t be upped in risk of putting me into a manic psychosis. Due to my sleep problems I did get put on a non addicting medication to help with that. I should have that medication by early next week. The hope is that it’ll help with sleep and lower the compulsions I’m having.
What im beginning to learn is that recovery is a balancing act. It’s definitely not easy but with everything I’ve read and heard, recovery is worth it.
Part of my story includes psychosis. It runs in my family and good thing I know of that history. It helped me identify when it was beginning to happen to me.
I’m diagnosed with Bipolar and Borderline. Both disorders can have this symptom. Medication has helped. There are still days when I have a delusion and have to reach out. I won’t have to do this my entire life. But today was one of those days I had to reach out. At first I became embarrassed, but then I realized the importance to my health it is to reach out.
A mind like mine likes to live in chaos and be isolated. It thrives on keeping secrets. Look how well that worked out for me. What I came to realize is that no one who cares about me is going judge me. If anything they’ll be proud of me for talking with them so I don’t end up in a downward spiral.
Putting my recovery first means putting away my reservations and asking for help when I need it.
I hate the weekends most. It’s the time I used the most. It’s the time I’d mix my drugs to see how messed up I could get. I’d go out, go to shows. I ended up getting into the “in crowd” where I’d sit in the VIP rooms hanging out with the headliner. The life I was leading seemed glamorous.
My fiancé doesn’t live with me right now because she too used. We used together. Not only on weekends but also throughout the week. We couldn’t even leave our professional jobs without using.
Now that I’m living clean my life has become more low key. Now that my fiancé isn’t living at home my life is quiet.
Living with Borderline Personality Disorder it should be noted that one of the symptoms is not being able to be alone. Being alone makes me feel abandoned even if it’s an irrational feeling. Having the disorder, being alone, especially trying to go through recovery from a drug addiction, is making it that much more difficult.
My fiancé is living with my boss. In my mind, my boss has chosen her recovery over my own. She knows how much pain I’m in because of it but doesnt seem to care. As long as my fiancé is working on her recovery she’s happy.
They say I should be focusing on my own recovery at this point. I am. I’ve done more work than I think they realized. And I’ve done it by reaching out to people. I’ve done it by myself. I don’t have someone guiding me through every moment. My sponsor told me that if my fiancé is having her recovery handed to her than it won’t last. My recovery is definitely going to last because I’m doing it through my own motivation.
I should give myself more credit. I was released on 1/17/17 from the hospital. I came out with a Bipolar and Borderline diagnosis. I had relapsed with bulimia and was being told by my treatment team that I should consider looking into drug treatment. Here I am 4/7/17 recovering, living on my own and working full time. No one is holding my hand. I’m doing it. With that being said I’m so exhausted all the time. Every day, every moment I’m fighting. The thing is I’m fighting to take my life back. I’m fighting to find myself.