Overcoming Swiper

July 16, 2019 at 10:17 PM

Hello. I’m currently sitting on my bed in the dark 1 hour past my usual bedtime typing my first ever journal entry. I’ve been wanting to journal for a while and, tonight, as I was trying to fall asleep, the thought of what I’d say in my first journal entry wouldn’t leave my mind, so I was like, “It’s better now than never.”

As I was pondering, I was wondering how I should open this and I want to let you know about my life. That’s right. I’m going back all the way to when I first popped out of the womb.

I was born into a Catholic family that wasn’t hardcore dedicated, but loyal. I have an athletic, family-driven valedictorian for a mother and a football-loving, light-hearted gummy bear (hard on the outside and soft on the inside) for a dad. I was born during my brother’s 3rd birthday party (which was a day before his actual birthday). Now, let me tell you: that was a crazy day I don’t remember and was definitely not the first time I’d be stealing his spotlight. Now that we are both teenagers (he’s 16 and I’m 13), we are “even”, so that leaves us up for comparison and competition. At least once a day, one of my family members says, “Why can’t Zach be more like Emily?” and that makes me feel embarrassed and like I have to live up to my label of being an overachiever quite often. Then, I feel like they are picking away at Zach’s confidence, too, not that he doesn’t have a big ego (which he does...LOL).

With that said, my family is loving. Don’t get me wrong. They are quite supportive, especially my parents, and I know my parents would do anything for Zach and I.

Back to what I was saying, I grew up as a very smiley, carefree girl that was always happy. In fourth grade, I attended a new elementary school, which wasn’t difficult at all because I made new friends easily and excelled in the classroom. I started doing charity work, too. In fifth grade, I showed early signs of an eating disorder after becoming very insecure and crying over my appearance. I remember my father reminding me about type 2 diabetes and how I could get it with how I ate. By the way, I don’t blame him because I had absolutely no balance. I used to come home and eat a literal bowl of chocolate chips and, after dinner, I’d eat an overflowing bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. I also remember learning about eating disorders after hearing about a famous actress that suffered from one. At the time, I thought that an ED (eating disorder) is probably better than being overweight. And I did NOT want to be fat.

That wasn’t a rational thought at all, but it happened. I limited my treat intake to twice a week, then to twice a month, and so on. I started to work out occasionally and I was already involved in sports, all year-round. At this time, I was my healthiest and happiest.

Sixth grade came and everything changed. My memory is foggy from the summer going into sixth grade to now (summer going into 9th grade). All I remember is that I ran and worked out in the school bathrooms, was a bitch, compulsively exercised, restricted my food, would silence my hunger, had friend issues, isolated myself, cried a lot, lied, was always tired, and ALWAYS cold.

In seventh grade, I reached my rock bottom and was admitted into residential treatment for anorexia nervosa. That treatment changed my life. I’m so thankful. When I returned to school from it, I was myself again and actually nice. In the summer going into 8th grade, I started to veer off-course of the recovery trail. I resorted to old habits and went backwards. I started to lose weight again. At the start of eighth grade, I remember telling my mom I was going on walks after school when I was actually going on runs. Towards the end of eighth grade, I found a new therapist and dietitian who were much better than the ones I had been seeing for the past year. Eighth grade was a time of discovery for me. I found a new and improved, strong friend group and started to learn about my interests as well as personality. I became so distracted with everything else that I wasn’t making myself better and healthier. This summer going into ninth grade, I want this summer to be so much better than the last. Not only that, but I want my high school experience to be memorable because, sadly, I don’t remember a lot from middle school due to my self deprivation.

On that note, I don’t think I would go through middle school again because it was an experience that you only want to go through once and be done with. It’s like skydiving because you do it since everyone else is. It sounds fun, but is actually terrifying.

I’m hoping to do daily journal entries, but I don’t want to be setting my expectations too high because I have to be realistic. I’m in the mentality to succeed. How do you like that positive affirmation? By the way, I have an Instagram account dedicated to posting positive affirmations.

July 17, 2018 at 7:47 AM

Good morning! I woke up to a horrifying dream (well, nightmare) featuring my upcoming doctor’s appointment that will be in two days. In the dream, I was in her office and the nurse was about to weigh me.

Ever since my last dietitian appointment, I have been ordered to take “blind weights”, which is when they take your weight and you aren’t allowed to see it. (It’s typical for eating disorder clients to have to take blind weights.) This is very frustrating because, as an anorexic, you fear gaining weight. I’m not kidding. It’s the last thing that I want to happen to me.

But, anyway, in the dream, I was stepping on the scale with my back facing the weight reader, initially. Then, because I had a feeling the nurse didn’t know I had to take blind weights, I turned around and saw my weight. My weight read 132 pounds, which is well over my goal weight of 115! I was stunned in my dream. I regretted seeing my weight because, for the rest of my day in that dream, I viewed myself as fat once again. In reality, it would be nearly impossible with how I am eating to have gained that much in the time period of about 3 weeks, but a part of me thought that dream was true. The last time I saw my weight, I was in the early 110s.

But this dream made me think. It made me wonder if I was over my goal weight. It made me remind myself of how terrible being over my goal weight would be...how scary it would be. Easily, I’d start cutting back on food intake (if that was the case) because I know, for sure, my dietitian, Barbara, wouldn’t adjust my meal plan to weight maintenance. She’s all about “portion control” and she keeps making me eat more and more. I just want to be hungry!!! I don’t know what hunger feels like because she has me eat so often that my body doesn’t get the chance. Ugh! I just want to play volleyball!! I am still waiting for physical activity clearance and that’s what my next doctor’s appointment is for: to clear me to play in a volleyball camp. I’ve already missed two days of camp (once a week on Sundays) because of not being cleared. I’m not missing anymore.

July 17, 2018 at 9:07 PM

I noticed that, today, I was against the idea of sitting more than usual. I think the only time I sat was in the car ride to and from Market 32, eating dinner, and sitting with my Mom to edit the Spike for a Cure website that I’ve been developing for months.

I don’t like sitting. Sitting makes me feel heavy and self-conscious. It makes me feel lazy because I hate being lazy. I want to get things done. Productivity is where I thrive and relaxation makes me freak out. Most of my day consists of me standing.

Standing gives me the opposite effect of sitting. Standing makes me quick on my feet and able to move, if need be. I work at my dresser in my bedroom standing almost all day, whether it be watching YouTube videos, playing Solitaire, completing summer work, texting friends, or working hard on Spike for a Cure.

I notice that a lot of people spend most of their day sitting and, when I stand, I feel like an oddball. I’m an oddball in a lot of scenarios, though. I bring my own food to parties, don’t eat at the movies (which is a place I despise because movies are boring since you are sitting there for hours just watching a super loud movie. Dang! Theaters need to be taught about volume control. Thank goodness our ears adjust.), being the only person that sits up straight, and many other scenarios that I could name. But, that isn’t what we’re talking about now. We’re talking about standing. Did you know that doctors recommend that people stand for 4 hours a day? I make sure to meet that every single day. I want to be healthy.

I can’t believe I wrote three paragraphs just about standing. Wow.

July 18, 2018 at 7:43 AM

I woke up today an hour ago to an awful stomach ache. The pain was strong because I was lying on my stomach. The ache was deep in my stomach and any position I assumed made it worse. I just had to lay in my bed and wait for the pain to go away. I tried to think of what may have caused the stomach ache as I laid there. Nothing seemed to be a definite cause. It’s so frustrating when you experience pain and you don’t know why. Just yesterday did I get a cut on my thumb, after holding a cup. How does that happen to me? Now, don’t get me started on bruises because I get them without knowing what caused them, too.

Want to know what greatly reduced my stomach pain? Sitting! I don’t like sitting, but I dislike pain even more, so I sat in my bed and started reading “All Fall Down” as my stomach pain slowly decreased until it was no longer present. That took an hour.

July 18, 2018 at 2:25 PM

I was watching a video earlier today about the human body and one of the fun facts was a not-so-fun fact. It was actually terrifying. It said that, during weight gain, people’s fat cells multiply. Then, when they lose weight, their fat cells just decrease in size, but they don’t lose them. How scary is that! Why would the body do that? I guess people don’t lose fat when they lose weight. That’s terrifying to think about. I’m going to stop talking about that before I experience another “freak out” moment.

I just got back from my dietitian appointment. It didn’t start great. I wasn’t even in her office when things started going downhill. Mom and I were checking out a “Life is Good” quote book. She picked a random page for me and guess what quote was on the page…”Get out.” I know, and “get out” is what I think at (at least) one point in every meeting with my dietitian. Things weren’t looking too good for today’s appointment. In the moment, Mom and I nervously laughed and the little optimism I had for the appointment disappeared.

Next, Barbara welcomed me into her office. We had a lunch date today. Right when I set my almond butter and banana sandwich with an Oatmega Bar out on my plate, her passive-aggressiveness began.

“Is that one tablespoon of almond butter?” she asked

“Yes.”

“I always thought one tablespoon wasn’t enough. The sandwich would be better with 2, you know? I’m just saying.”

That stupid phrase “just saying”. Gosh, it makes me so angry. Ugh!

The rest of the appointment consisted of her changing my meal plan once again (...as usual) and making me eat more (no surprise there). She is making me have a sandwich, bar, AND a drink or pasta salad for lunch. All of that! That’s too much, especially with her making me eat three meals and three snacks a day. It’s hard enough for me to get in all my snacks. Most nights, I have to combine two of my snacks at night. What annoys me even more is that I can’t even see my weight or know how I’m doing. Plus, she takes my weight after changing my meal plan. For all I know, I could’ve gained weight and she increases my food intake. It makes no sense! She doesn’t even tell me if I gained, maintained, or lost. She just tells me to follow the meal plan. That’s it. I better see my weight at my doctor’s appointment in two days.

I can’t wait to talk to Jennifer, my therapist, later today. The whole car ride home from Barbara’s was me laying down in the passenger side staring out the window completely quiet. I always do that after an upsetting appointment. So, pretty much after every appointment with Barbara do I assume that position on the car ride home.

July 18, 2018 at 7:11 PM

On the car ride back from Jennifer’s appointment, I saw two runners that were friends. They were both high-school age boys and shirtless. The blonde in the front was hot...like super hot. He looked at me sitting in the passenger side and smiled as he ran by. His smile was picture-perfect...just like his body. Damn, I want a guy like that to be my boyfriend. The whole car ride home, I was thinking about how cute he was.

July 19, 2018 at 10:48 AM

Ever since last night, Mom has been upset with me. It all started when I refused to have a roll with my shepherd’s pie and Ensure. She was so mad that she took my door off its hinges. That wasn’t effective because I just hung a beach towel where my door used to be. Problem solved.

When I woke up today, Mom was giving me the silent treatment for the most part. If she did speak, she would give short, monotone answers. Plus, the only time she really spoke to me was when she said that my treatment team is working their butts off and I’m not giving my part. She said that all I have to do is follow the meal plan and doing that isn’t hard. Does she know what goes on in my brain? No. Does she realize that every time I have to eat, I want to cut back in some way? Probably, but, you know what? My initial restrictive idea is to cut back way more than I end up actually cutting back on. Sometimes, I listen to the idea. Sometimes, I don’t at all. Most of the time, I compromise and settle on not having this but having all that I am supposed to have for that. The only times she recognizes my eating choices is when I cut back. I don’t get positive reinforcement, so I have to give it to myself. I feel like my team isn’t noticing my progress. It may not be what they are fully expecting, but that isn’t realistic to think I can change my habits in a week. I prefer a slow treatment process, not a rushed one, because the quick treatments only fix the surface issues. I need deep, lifelong recovery. I want to live a healthy life where I can work out and eat when, what, and how much I want.

July 19, 2018 at 11:50 AM

My mom exploded, but she needed that release. I’m not even kidding. She yelled and hit the cabinet, at first. Through the elevated conversation, she slowly but surely sizzled out. The conversation somehow wound up with both of us hugging and crying. She’s right when she says that she feels like she wants me to get better more than I want to get better. It’s completely true. That’s the most rational statement I’ve said all day. I feel guilty that she has more inner strength than I do. It hurts me to see her so helpless. No matter how many times she may want to change my behaviors and enforce my meal plan, it won’t work. In the end, it’s my brain and what little power I have over it that tells me to say “no” to her and “yes” to my eating disorder. That’s the sad truth. My mother feels helpless. A day where she doesn’t have to worry about my eating disorder will be a great day, but it won’t be a day we see in a long time. I love my Mom. She’s a strong woman. I can’t imagine what I’d do if we switched roles. I wouldn’t be able to be nearly as amazing as her. She needs to be on the Ellen Show. Sadly, I’m under 18 years old, so I can’t write to Ellen.