Overflowing

I feel like the most worthless, un-talented, hopeless, loneliest individual in the world. I struggle daily to feel confident at my job. Some days I think I am doing great and I get praise for it. Other days I feel like I don't say the right things and I am setting these kids up to fail. I feel so intimidated by the other coaches around me who are so capable and confident, or at least come across that way.

Loneliness is eating away at my heart. It's hard to enough to state my needs to other people, like simply asking my therapist for a hug. But outside of her, I don't have people in my life that I feel I can ask them for a hug. I don't have anyone close to me like that. Being friendless is something I am familiar with, but by no means am I used to it. It hurts more and more as the years go by.

I feel like the "best years of my life" have already passed. They were the years I was a gymnast and I felt accomplished, confident, happy, and loved. But injury took away the sport that had my heart, and my heart was broken. I feel like I will never be as good at anything as I was at gymnastics, and I feel like the rest of my life will just be the same as it has been for years now.

I can hear my therapist saying, "this is your depression talking to you". And she may be right. But to feel all of the above, and more, just about kills me. Driving home from work today I was in tears, but holding them back too because it felt like too much. Several times I drove through a green light at an intersection and wished for another driver to run a red light and hit my car. The only thing I really want to do it sleep all of the time.

I do not wish to die. I just wish to escape the pain and stress in my life. It's so much. It hurts so badly. And very few people in my life know about it and understand it.

I am becoming insecure talking to my online community of support about my issues. It's really the same things it has always been. I fear that I am boring them, or burdening them. I'm tired of hearing "I'm sorry you are feeling that way". I am tired of people telling me that God will solve all of my problems if I just reach out to him. I don't need God to show up, I need ME to show up.

I still struggle on a mostly day to day basis with food and getting the right amount of calories in. Yet my weight is stable and has been. I am so sick of eating disorders that it makes me want to punch a glass window. I'm sick of the ruin they cause not only in my life, but in so many of my friends lives. I'm sick of how they make me feel like a selfish and jealous person.

Learning how to provide care and nurture to myself is an ongoing journey, that at times feels hopeless and more than I am capable of.

Lastly, I am so sick of being scared of good things happening. I am about to make a really positive change in my life in regards to work, and I am excited. But I am also terrified and fear that it will push away the people in my life I need the most. Good equals abandonment to me. My therapist does an excellent job at telling me that good equal positive attention and does not mean she or anyone else will abandon me. Why will I not allow myself to praise myself for good changes and positive moments? When will this change? Why does good feel so bad?

I don't know much about anything I just wrote, just that it hurts. And I am scared.

the talk

Ugh, so I had that "talk" in therapy this morning. "Holly, do you need to be in the hospital?" "No" was my answer and "no" is the truth. Yes, I have been significantly depressed the past few weeks, and yes it is interfering with my life. But I am not suicidal. I do feel at the end of my rope with all of these feelings that overwhelm me on a day to day basis. But I always survive them, even if it means having a panic attack or taking a 4 hour nap to escape them. 

I do have a lot going on. It is Winter, which is the most horrible time of the year. A friend and mentor in recovery has relapsed and is back in treatment and it has upset me more than I expected. I am finding it hard to find joy at work and I feel I am under extreme stress. I am struggling with my faith and my worth. I am struggling with my sexuality. I am struggling with anxiety and panic attacks.

My therapist reminded me multiple times in our session that I am worthy and capable of great things. That even though I have spent the past 20 years wrapped up in my illness and past, I am capable of moving on to a life filled with joy and peace and love. It's easy to take that in and hear that, but hard to believe it. 20 years is a long time to feel so many awful things about myself and have so many awful things happen to me. Moving on to "the other side" will not happen over night. And I get impatient about that. 

I am still struggling with taking my antidepressant on a regular basis. It scares me and bothers me, but I know I need to do it. I shook hands with my therapist today, promising to contact her if I felt like hurting myself, killing myself. Like I said before, I have no thoughts or intentions of doing either. But I made that promise just in case.

I still continue to wake up everyday and get to work. I try my best to eat well. It might take me longer to get to household chores, but I still do them. Somehow, I am getting through this. 

panic attack

I had my second panic attack in 3 days just now. It’s awful. Fuck. I’m tired of using medication to calm myself down and stay sane. I have too many fucking emotions lately and it’s obviously causing me to panic. And I feel so damn lonely in it. Like all of my support people (non treatment team) are there, but I’m short on words and I just feel really lonely and scared and by myself.

I want it to be Spring. So I can sit on my back porch and feel the wind and sun on my face and take deep breaths of the warm air.

I don’t know if I believe in God anymore and that scares the shit out of me.

I don’t know. I’m so lost.

Winter Sucks

I hate this time of year, loathe it. The freezing cold sits in my bones and it's hard to find things to laugh at. Naturally, my depression sets in and getting out of bed to take a shower feels like an impossible task.
With the recent upsetting event last week, I am trying to remain strong, but I am not doing so well.

I am struggling with restricting and skipping meals. My anxiety is the main cause of this. However, not eating causes my anxiety to be worse. It's a hard thing. I am physically hungry, but mentally...the act of eating feels like I have to climb Mt. Everest. I need to find some accountability. I am keeping a food journal for my dietitian. Eating with others is easier than eating alone, which is baffling me.

Therapy is frustrating. I am working hard on trauma issues, but find myself getting easily frustrated and hopeless at some of the things we are working on. It's hard for me to be patient and to trust this process. I am trying Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, with hopes that it helps some of my trauma symptoms.

I joined a gym near my house. My main motivator was to get back into shape so I can feel better about my body.  Now I just need to get myself there. My bed is safe and warm and comfortable, the outside world is not.

I need it to be Spring. I need light and warmth. I am desperate for it.

Fear

I'm scared that I will never get rid of the horrible body memories that are wreaking havoc on my life.
 I am scared that I will be trapped inside the abused body forever.
 I am afraid that no one will find a way to make them lessen or go away.
I am afraid it will interfere with my future relationships.
I am afraid I will never be able to reclaim my body as my own, and not an object that someone can use however they want.
 I am afraid that I will never know safety inside my body.
 I am afraid I will never love my body.
I am afraid I will never feel connected to my body in a safe way.
 I am afraid to continue what I'm doing in therapy, yet afraid to take a step back.

Today's events truly concern me pertaining to my trauma recovery. Perhaps I am overreacting, but it feels like my hope in my recovery is being pulled away. I used bulimic behaviors today for the first time in over a year. It was a slip. It won't happen again. While I did slip up, I was reminded by a friend that I also made a lot of good choices today. I reached out for help, I allowed myself to cry and feel my feelings. I spent an hour tonight in my friend's car talking it out, and it helped clear my head. I am reassuring myself that my therapist is still very much here and present.

I need to rest, my mind and my body. I need to increase my self care. I can't let the fear take over.

Depression and Sadness

It sucks suffering from depression and/or sadness. I feel like for me it's always been one or the other. Right now I feel like I'm battling both and it absolutely sucks. 

The depression is most likely a side effect of my surgery and also the time of year, which is full of bad memories and bad anniversaries. It's not unexpected, but it doesn't feel good. It feels awful actually. I want to lay in bed all day. I want to take extra Xanax or a pain pill to escape from my feelings, but I don't. I do what I've always been told to do, to push through the depression. Most of the time I do and I end up okay. 

As for the sadness, it's all related to my trauma. I'm grieving what happened to me when I was 4 years old. It sucks. I didn't know it was possible to be so sad. My therapist is amazing at getting me through this. She is my rock. She doesn't mind that I sometimes email her 3 times in 24 hours because I just feel panicked about all of my feelings and I don't know what to do with them but sit with them. Most of the time I can't describe it in words. What it is, is a heavy pain on my chest that has a constant ache and it's the most terrible feeling.

I don't think anything specifically can make it go away. It just takes time, and hopefully it will heal. I mean, I know it will heal. But sometimes I just can't see through the sadness. 

As a result of the sadness, I end up feeling an insane amount of loneliness. Which just makes my chest ache even more. Night time is the worst, and my coping skill as of late has been bingeing. It's hard not to feel ashamed and disgusted at myself. I know it's a comforting coping skill for me and that's why I do it. Because I lack so much comfort in my life. I see my dietitian tomorrow, thank goodness, because I want the bingeing to stop. 

That's all, for now. 

Recovery: Getting Personal

Recently, I acknowledged my 10 year anniversary of entering my first stay at Remuda Ranch, and thus entering the recovery process. While I did not maintain recovery all of those years, I did know what recovery meant. Nearly 3 years ago, I entered Remuda Ranch for the second time, and since then (with the exception of a couple of minor relapses) I have maintained recovery. I think finally acknowledging and realizing the reason behind my eating disorder and the purpose it served me was a huge part in achieving the status of near recovered that I am at now. I also attribute my amazing therapist, dietitian, and psychiatrist to my success.

While eating disorder recovery has been an arduous journey and still an on-going one (I still battle body image and restricting at times), my biggest battle these days is recovery from my trauma. I suffered early child hood trauma as a 4 year old, again as an 11 year old, and once more as an adult, at age 22. I have only been in trauma therapy for a little over a year, yet my life has improved dramatically. However, the  pain and suffering that trauma brings can sometimes overshadow that. But I have been blessed with the most amazing and capable therapist who is seeing me through this pain and who I trust more than anyone I have ever known.

I can talk about all of the things that make trauma and trauma recovery so hard. But it's such a personal journey, one that I share only with my treatment team and close friends and support system, and those who have been through similar experiences. I am not ashamed of my past and what happened to me. But it's not as easy to talk about or describe as an eating disorder. The hardest part for me has been the loneliness, and the grief and sadness. There just are not enough proper words to explain it.

A year ago, I had mapped out a suicide plan. And Thursday will mark 1 year since I attempted suicide and almost lost my life. It's pretty amazing how far I have come since then. I still battle depression and anxiety, but it doesn't control me like it used to, at least not every day. It has not gone away. It still lingers. But I no longer want to die. I have hope for a life full of those moments, people, places, and things that I have always dreamed for.

Blogging is difficult for me. It didn't used to be. But recovering from trauma, like I said, is not something that is easy to talk about or explain. I share my story because I don't want others to feel alone such as I have literally all of my life. But I will try to blog more. For myself, and for others.