Tuesday, June 29, 2010

and breathe...(swearing used, be forwarned)

Before I do anything this morning, before I check my email, before I see what happened on facebook, before all of that stuff, I wanted to come here and jot down some thoughts that went through my head on my way to work this morning. I have turned off the comments for this post because, well honestly, because I can't stand the thought of one more person cheering me on when I don't feel cheer worthy. I don't feel like reading supportive comments, seeing "tough love" or any of that. I don't want your advice (not that I don't appreciate it) I just want to get my thoughts out there and move on. Ready or not, here it comes.

I feel panicked. I feel anxious. I feel imobilized. I feel sick. I feel sad. I feel like a failure. I feel like I have multiple personalities. I feel happy in probably 4 or 5 sides of my life because there are a hundred things going perfectly right-on with it and I am very excited about those aspects but there is always this voice inside of me, whispering to me constantly, sometimes shouting, teasing, taunting me about my weight and casting a shadow on what should be a very joyous time in my life.

I am overwhelmed by my thoughts about losing weight, not losing weight, food, good foods, bad foods, sugar, carbs, eating clean, can I do it, why am I eating that, stop doing that, you did it again, God you suck, that's not okay, don't let them see you eat that, stop Sarah stop!

I feel in the verge. One the verge of what, I don't know, but I just feel on the verge. I feel like there isn't enough time in the day to do it all. There isn't enough money in the bank. There aren't enough clothes in my closet to fit this body that won't leave me tugging at them every time I stand up. There aren't enough (any) shoes to fit my swollen feet that aren't going to leave me hobbling at the end of the day. I walk like a 80 year old woman. I am 33.

I can't explain what happened after I had Sadie, almost two years ago now. All the motivation, empowerment, energy, life... all of the things I had and felt when I had lost those 70 pounds, there hiding from me. I used to stand in the mirror, NAKED, flex my newfound muscles with my husband doingt he same right beside me, and be proud of what I had accomplished. But I don't even feel like I did before I lost that weight. I feel "different" now, worse off, sadder, defeated, more confused, more lost, more like I can't do this. Not again. Now now. Not with this life. I don't feel like me. At all.

I feel fake. People I see every day have no idea what's happening in my head. No idea. Even my husband has no clue what I'm saying to myself and what kind of torture I am putting myself through mentally or what I'm really feeling. Nobody knows how I feel on the verge of purging every emotional atom in my body, full force, into the toilet and giving up on this resigning to the fact that I am just always going to be so uncomfortable in my body. I'm sitting here, working, doing everything I should be doing on the outside. I go to lunch, I eat, we chat, I go home, tell about my day, cook meals, give Sadie her bath and seem calm, normal but on the inside I am not feeling that way at all.

I've even been telling myself that I deserve to be this way. It's such a fucked up way of thinking that I can't even type it out here to make it clear but when I eat something that I know I shouldn't be indulging in, usually in large quantities, afterwards I even tell myself that I deserve to be punished with my body. "thats what you get" I tell myself but I have no idea for what? That's what I get for what, Sarah?

I feel alone in understanding me but nobody else could possibly get this. I can barely understand me let alone expect anybody else to get it.

All I can do it breathe. Keep on going and hope. I don't even know what to hope for anymore, really.


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since posting this, I looked back in my mobile call log and realized that the Disordely Eating Center was supposed to call me 3 weeks ago to set up an appointment. So I called them to see what was going on (if you don't remember or are new to my blog, firstly appologies for the bright and cheerful 1st post you're reading and secondly, I have been diagnosed as having an eating disorder and am seeking treatment at a local center which has a 8 week waiting list to get an appointment) and they claimed they were going to call me today or tomorrow, which is still 3 weeks later than I was told originally. So now I have my first appointment set up for July 29th, a whopping 4 months after my referal reached their door. No use in being bitter about it now, just have to wait it out and hang in there until then.