Today has been a really hard day.
No particular reason. Woke up, and within seconds could just tell that it was going to be a struggle just to make it through. One of those dark cloud, black hole, cannot find the light no matter how hard you look kind of days. The kind where it feels like apathy swallowed your heart and you couldn't bring yourself to care if your life depended on it. The kind filled with the confusion of somehow being numb and in pain all at the same time.
Ya, one of those days.
It started with me in tears on the kitchen floor because the jam I tried to make for my sister didn't turn out. This tiny mistake brought on a wash of failure shame that I am still struggling to make it out of 10 hours later.
I don't want to let anyone down.
I can't let anyone know how poorly I'm doing, I don't want to let them down.
A very wise online sister, and an incredibly smart close friend have repeatedly told me that I am too hard on myself. I guess I am. I don't know how to be anything else.
I feel like I am letting down my daughters by not being the healthy vibrant mother they deserve. I feel like I am letting down my parents for not succeeding and thriving as an adult after all the promise I showed as a child. I feel like I'm letting my sister down because I have not been able to reach out in kindness to her since a ridiculous meaningless fight almost 3 years ago. I feel like I am letting society down by being a drain instead of an asset. I feel like I have let down countless friends, family members, and partners in the last 20 years just by being unable to be consistent, reliable, and supportive. And I feel like I am letting myself down. By still being sick. Still being weak and unable to fight. Still being stuck, and lost, and hopeless. By not doing more, not being more.
The truth is I let myself down every day. It's rather easy, because if I am honest I don't feel that I deserve any better. It's hard to fight for someone that you don't feel is worthy of fighting for. It's hard to get better when deep down you're pretty sure pain is all you deserve.
I don't like myself. I don't. I haven't in a really, really long time.
So I overcompensate. I try to be pretty so that people won't catch on that I'm sick. I try to be thin, because how can you be sad when you're skinny? I spoil my daughters to alleviate some of the guilt of being a sick, semi-absent mother. I buy really nice gifts for my family, because in my deluded mind this will make them believe that I am doing well so that they never catch on to how badly I am struggling.
I don't want to let them down.
I don't want to spend 2 weeks in Saskatchewan at my parents' house over Christmas. It is hard on me mentally, emotionally, and physically. My daughters want that, my parents want that, so I do it anyway.
I don't want to let them down.
Mine has become a life of smoke and mirrors. If I distract everyone with a pretty shiny outside, and throw on a fake smile no one will ever realize how broken and pathetic I am.
It hurts. It hurts all the time.
But I don't want to let them down.
Yes, I have Bipolar 2. And yes, it is a wacky disorder. But 18 years of complaining about it and hating it hasn't changed one darn thing. So here we go, new approach...... Join me on the ride, it's bumpy but always entertaining and soon to be fantastic.
Showing posts with label eating disorders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating disorders. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Can I even believe anything I tell myself anymore?
Have you ever broken a promise to someone you care about?
It feels terrible. We feel guilt, disappointment, and if you're like me vow to make it up to them however we can.
Why is it not the same when we break a promise to ourselves?
I remember a time, a younger happier time, when anything I decided to do or told myself I was going to do got done. It wasn't an issue. There was no question. If I wanted it I went out and got it. If I told myself I was going to do something it darn well got done. I made decisions, albeit it easier ones than those I face now, with confidence and ease. And once a decision was made, that was it. There was no second guessing, no doubt, no decision paralysis, no problem. Decision made, action taken. Every time.
I don't remember the first time I broke a promise to myself. I wish I did. I wish I could remember if it was hard. If I felt the same guilt, disappointment, and need for redemption that I have felt the times I broke promises to other people. I wish I could remember the second, third, and fourth time as well. I wish I could remember so that I could see just how quickly any negative feelings disappeared. So that I could see just how quickly I went from dependable and constantly following through, to not believing a damn word I say to myself and breaking every promise I ever make to myself.
The loss of trust in myself is bad enough. If it ended there that would, on it's own, be sad, damaging, and darn near incapacitating. Unfortunately, as with most things, it doesn't just end there. When it becomes easy to tell yourself you're going to do something and then just not do it, it also becomes much easier to give in to the evil voice in your head that is Bipolar. It becomes easier to binge eat to stuff down your real feelings, to stop seeing friends so they don't see your decline, to stop cleaning your house because what does it matter, to stop getting out of bed, to stop self-care, to stop exercising, to stop going to work, to just give up. After spending any significant amount of time telling yourself you're going to try and then just not doing it, any conscientious effort to begin trying again is infinitely more difficult.
"I'm going to stop bingeing on junk food, eat healthy regular meals, and start being active again" gets met with "shut up fatty you're too lazy and sugar is delicious, you'll eventually cave and eat a cookie so just eat an entire box right now instead of going for a run".
"I'm going to clean my apartment this week, organize things, and keep it that way" gets laughed at while your front room begins to look like an episode of Hoarders.
"This time I'm not going to get scared and drop out of class, this time I will graduate" may last for a month or two, but is soon replaced by "you're dumb, everyone is laughing at you, even if you do graduate you'll still be sick stupid and useless so just quit now".
"I am going back to work. I am going to be strong, beat this, and take care of myself again" very quickly becomes "don't even try. People will just laugh at you, you're qualified for nothing, you're just gonna screw it up again so why go through the anguish?"
Once you make it nearly impossible to trust anything created in your inner monologue the acts of dreaming and goal setting become non-existent. Early on in the promise breaking you still attempt to have dreams and still attempt to set goals, but once you abandon enough of them you begin to abandon the concepts all together. You don't bother dreaming, what's the point? You stop setting goals, or even being able to think of goals you might want to set.
You then stop making decisions. Without dreams and goals there is no direction, and without direction how do you know what path to take? Without confidence in yourself and your abilities the ability to make even the most simple decisions disappears. Decision paralysis sets in so deeply that your life quite literally stops. You are alive, but there is no action, there is no growth, there is no healing, there is no anything. Years, in fact a decade, can go by and you have no idea where it went or what you actually did for ten years. Suddenly you are ten years older, your kids have grown into teenagers, and it feels like you missed it. There are snapshot memories here and there, but there is no real involvement or appreciation. All of the sudden you are a 25 year old in a 35 year old's body. Everyone around you has grown, changed, accomplished things, but you are no better off and no different than you were in 2002.
That is a very frightening and regretful place to be.
Fear and regrets accomplish absolutely nothing, but when a decade of your life has disappeared before your eyes while stuck in a state of complete inaction it is damn hard not to let them creep in.
The only answer is to jump back into life with two feet. Start with small goals, accomplish them, rebuild your faith in yourself, learn to trust yourself, and learn to feel worthy again. Simple right? Ya, sure. Ask me in another ten years.
It feels terrible. We feel guilt, disappointment, and if you're like me vow to make it up to them however we can.
Why is it not the same when we break a promise to ourselves?
I remember a time, a younger happier time, when anything I decided to do or told myself I was going to do got done. It wasn't an issue. There was no question. If I wanted it I went out and got it. If I told myself I was going to do something it darn well got done. I made decisions, albeit it easier ones than those I face now, with confidence and ease. And once a decision was made, that was it. There was no second guessing, no doubt, no decision paralysis, no problem. Decision made, action taken. Every time.
I don't remember the first time I broke a promise to myself. I wish I did. I wish I could remember if it was hard. If I felt the same guilt, disappointment, and need for redemption that I have felt the times I broke promises to other people. I wish I could remember the second, third, and fourth time as well. I wish I could remember so that I could see just how quickly any negative feelings disappeared. So that I could see just how quickly I went from dependable and constantly following through, to not believing a damn word I say to myself and breaking every promise I ever make to myself.
The loss of trust in myself is bad enough. If it ended there that would, on it's own, be sad, damaging, and darn near incapacitating. Unfortunately, as with most things, it doesn't just end there. When it becomes easy to tell yourself you're going to do something and then just not do it, it also becomes much easier to give in to the evil voice in your head that is Bipolar. It becomes easier to binge eat to stuff down your real feelings, to stop seeing friends so they don't see your decline, to stop cleaning your house because what does it matter, to stop getting out of bed, to stop self-care, to stop exercising, to stop going to work, to just give up. After spending any significant amount of time telling yourself you're going to try and then just not doing it, any conscientious effort to begin trying again is infinitely more difficult.
"I'm going to stop bingeing on junk food, eat healthy regular meals, and start being active again" gets met with "shut up fatty you're too lazy and sugar is delicious, you'll eventually cave and eat a cookie so just eat an entire box right now instead of going for a run".
"I'm going to clean my apartment this week, organize things, and keep it that way" gets laughed at while your front room begins to look like an episode of Hoarders.
"This time I'm not going to get scared and drop out of class, this time I will graduate" may last for a month or two, but is soon replaced by "you're dumb, everyone is laughing at you, even if you do graduate you'll still be sick stupid and useless so just quit now".
"I am going back to work. I am going to be strong, beat this, and take care of myself again" very quickly becomes "don't even try. People will just laugh at you, you're qualified for nothing, you're just gonna screw it up again so why go through the anguish?"
Once you make it nearly impossible to trust anything created in your inner monologue the acts of dreaming and goal setting become non-existent. Early on in the promise breaking you still attempt to have dreams and still attempt to set goals, but once you abandon enough of them you begin to abandon the concepts all together. You don't bother dreaming, what's the point? You stop setting goals, or even being able to think of goals you might want to set.
You then stop making decisions. Without dreams and goals there is no direction, and without direction how do you know what path to take? Without confidence in yourself and your abilities the ability to make even the most simple decisions disappears. Decision paralysis sets in so deeply that your life quite literally stops. You are alive, but there is no action, there is no growth, there is no healing, there is no anything. Years, in fact a decade, can go by and you have no idea where it went or what you actually did for ten years. Suddenly you are ten years older, your kids have grown into teenagers, and it feels like you missed it. There are snapshot memories here and there, but there is no real involvement or appreciation. All of the sudden you are a 25 year old in a 35 year old's body. Everyone around you has grown, changed, accomplished things, but you are no better off and no different than you were in 2002.
That is a very frightening and regretful place to be.
Fear and regrets accomplish absolutely nothing, but when a decade of your life has disappeared before your eyes while stuck in a state of complete inaction it is damn hard not to let them creep in.
The only answer is to jump back into life with two feet. Start with small goals, accomplish them, rebuild your faith in yourself, learn to trust yourself, and learn to feel worthy again. Simple right? Ya, sure. Ask me in another ten years.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
a little bit lost and a lotta bit stuck (a rambling, babbling teary-eyed post)
I feel like am supposed to be so much more than what I am right now.
Like I should be doing something real, and meaningful, and important.
Like there is so much in me that just needs to come out, and be fantastic, and take on the world.
I just don't know what.
Or how.
Or where to start.....
When I was a kid it was so easy. I wanted to be a gymnast, and go to the Olympics, then be a Dr and a lawyer and a singer all in one.
Well I didn't do any of that.
And now that I'm older a horrible mix of fear, illness, bad luck, circumstance, past experience, bad decisions, broken hearts, and bogus expectations is keeping me from even being able to sit down and figure out what it is that I truly want now.
I want to be happy - ok fine, just be happy
I want to be successful, and busy, and inspirational - at what and for what???? no idea
I want more time with my girls - I'm doing all I can, but illness, geography and finances make it a constant struggle and it's never enough
I want to love myself so that someone else can love me and I won't die alone - don't even know where to start
I want to be secure and safe and taken care of - again, no clue how
I want to feel important, and worthy, and useful - but I don't. deep down I really truly don't. and until I do, nothing else is possible
18 years of Dr's and meds and therapy and treatment and I'm no better off, no closer to an answer.
I'm really tired of being stuck. I'm really tired of not having any of the answers. And I'm really truly so damn tired of hating the person that I spend all my time with; the fat, useless, lazy, pathetic mess that stares back at me from the mirror every day and taunts me with glimmers of hope but delivers nothing. I wanna fight. I'm just so damn tired. And so damn lost. And so damn stuck. And I really truly honestly have no idea where to even begin.
"you don't have to see the whole staircase, just the first step" - well it feels like I am in a hole, inside a well, 10 feet away from the first step with no ladder, no rope, and no flashlight.
What now?
No seriously, what now?
Gratitude..... ok I am grateful for my daughters, for my sister, for my family, for a roof over my head, and a warm bed to sleep in. I am grateful that I have food to eat (even though eating brings more shame and self-hate). I am grateful for a safe country, and basic human rights. I am grateful I'm not dead yet (most days). I am grateful that I have it better than a lot of people.
Gratitude exercises are great, until they make you feel like a whiny, even more useless, waste of space than you did before you started them.
I know it takes work. I'm willing to work. If I could find some actual direction, purpose or anything to work toward. I don't like or trust myself enough to even know what is that I want. What it is I should be doing. And I don't know how to start. Overcoming that much self-doubt, distrust, and loathing is something I long for so badly, but don't even know how to begin to tackle.
What now?
Seriously, what now???
Labels:
bipolar,
bipolar 2,
depression,
direction,
eating disorders,
frustration,
gratitude,
hope,
hopelessness,
life goals,
lost,
purpose,
self doubt,
self esteem,
self loathing,
stuck
Friday, April 6, 2012
What did you just say to me???
I told myself I was going to write more often, but I have been struggling with that. It seems I am only inspired to write when I truly have something to say. Well tonight is one of those times. I truly have something to say....
If you as a parent and you teach your children only one thing, let it be this: you are not better than anyone else on the planet, just different than and you do not have the right to be mean, cruel, judgmental, or rude to anyone ever just because you feel like it.
I was bullied horribly in high school. By a jealous "friend", by her new "friends", by a lot of people. In grade 10 I gained 10 pounds after quitting competitive gymnastics. I went from a 2 to a 6. At a party a guy actually made pig noises at me. At 5'3 and 125 pounds someone oinked at me and people laughed. Then they joined in. That is when my disordered relationship with food, and absolute hatred of my body began.
Now at 35 it is happening again. I gained some weight after moving to Vancouver for various reasons including loneliness, laziness, and age. At 5'3 and 120 pounds I was again called fat. And laughed at. And told "ya you're way too big for me". I have been fighting my ED for 20 years and had recently reached a point where I honestly felt like I could say I was in recovery. Until tonight......
Is this person important? No.
Will I ever see him or any of his jerk friends again? Probably not.
Are they worth my anxiety, anger, and time? Not in the least.
And yet here I sit. Alone. Wounded. And crying. Because once again I am the 15 year old at the party getting oinked at. I ran home and cried, vowing to never eat or leave my house again just like I did 20 years ago. I have gained a lot of strength in those 20 years but deep down I'm worried I will always be that lonely wounded little girl at the party. Who, for the first time in her life, thought "I'm not good enough" and has been fighting that feeling ever since.
How dare you? What ever made you think that you have the right to say anything like that to anyone ever? You disgust me.
And yet your words tore me down, ripped me to shreds, and hurt me more than you'll ever know,
I'm 35 years old, I had hoped the bullying had ended a very long time ago. I guess I was wrong.
Sadly, I was very very wrong.
If you as a parent and you teach your children only one thing, let it be this: you are not better than anyone else on the planet, just different than and you do not have the right to be mean, cruel, judgmental, or rude to anyone ever just because you feel like it.
I was bullied horribly in high school. By a jealous "friend", by her new "friends", by a lot of people. In grade 10 I gained 10 pounds after quitting competitive gymnastics. I went from a 2 to a 6. At a party a guy actually made pig noises at me. At 5'3 and 125 pounds someone oinked at me and people laughed. Then they joined in. That is when my disordered relationship with food, and absolute hatred of my body began.
Now at 35 it is happening again. I gained some weight after moving to Vancouver for various reasons including loneliness, laziness, and age. At 5'3 and 120 pounds I was again called fat. And laughed at. And told "ya you're way too big for me". I have been fighting my ED for 20 years and had recently reached a point where I honestly felt like I could say I was in recovery. Until tonight......
Is this person important? No.
Will I ever see him or any of his jerk friends again? Probably not.
Are they worth my anxiety, anger, and time? Not in the least.
And yet here I sit. Alone. Wounded. And crying. Because once again I am the 15 year old at the party getting oinked at. I ran home and cried, vowing to never eat or leave my house again just like I did 20 years ago. I have gained a lot of strength in those 20 years but deep down I'm worried I will always be that lonely wounded little girl at the party. Who, for the first time in her life, thought "I'm not good enough" and has been fighting that feeling ever since.
How dare you? What ever made you think that you have the right to say anything like that to anyone ever? You disgust me.
And yet your words tore me down, ripped me to shreds, and hurt me more than you'll ever know,
I'm 35 years old, I had hoped the bullying had ended a very long time ago. I guess I was wrong.
Sadly, I was very very wrong.
Labels:
anorexia,
bipolar,
bullying,
depression,
eating disorders,
weight,
weight gain
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