I want to vomit 

I haven’t had that thought in a very long time. 

I’m a recovered bulimic. I’ve never come back here to say that, but I guess it has only been recent times that I claim that with certainty. I am recovered, and I continue to work on recovery as that could change at any moment. 

Like now. 

This one thought has the potential to start a spiral of events that could lead to my downfall. The fact that I have worked on recovery for so many years means that the instant that thought went through my mind, I could see red flags. I stopped in my tracks and gasped, shocked at the words that formed a sentence that once was so familiar and necessary. 

Backtrack. What did we call it? Some sort of analysis. A chain of events that led to this. 

I know why. What once was PLEASE MASTER, now ABC PLEASE can indicate my vulnerability. The fact it is 1:42am and I am awake? The fact that I have had some alcohol? Little exercise? My emotions of frustration are high because I have tried to work today with children around and a puppy in 42 degree Celsius heat? The anxiety has intensified because I have so much to do and it’s getting to crunch time…. and it’s possible to get it all done…. but, kids. 

So here I am. Responding to that thought.  Analyzing why I am thinking this, and what can I do about it? 

I will sleep soon. I will watch one more episode of ‘The Newsroom’ and then sleep. In the morning I will do 15 mins of low intensity yoga. Just 15mins. No more. I will put a load of washing on, and I will arrange childcare for my children for today so I can work and not fall apart. I have been there for them near constantly over these holidays, and any guilt about this would be unjustified. 

‘It’s ok’. ‘Nice catch… good work’

Helpful thoughts. 

Recovery intact. 

Perfectionism

I was overcoming this, on the mountain top waving the conquer flag… Urgh. Rephrase. 

I was overcoming this, waving my flag as I climb the mountain with an occasional stumble. 

There, that’s better. Perfec….. 

Stop. 

Deep breath.

After a solid time in recovery, life is becoming fruitful in the ways I had missing. I am noticing now tho, my perfectionism creeping back in. 

I started feeding it in my work. It was fulfilling and at the beginning I didn’t see the harm. This was my project that I could control. My family can’t wreck this. It’s all mine I mistakenly thought. 

We have moved house and it’s temporary but I am not happy here. There a few things that are messing with my body and my head. So to manage my frustration and anxiety with how things are, and with my body off limits, I delight in my work. 

Perfectionism can be so rewarding until it’s inevitable wall smash. 

I cannot have control over my work. There are too many other people at play. Hundreds of them actually. My children also interfere. By delaying my start time with an hour long hypochondria stint making me late for work. Or perhaps the discipline applied which results in school refusal. The stress has risen to breaking point. 

I am doing a fabulous job dealing at acute times, using strategies to bring my anxiety down a little. Time takes its toll and this level of stress is not sustainable.

Making sure I take time to remind myself of the meaningful things in life is imperative. Taking time to express myself and emotions is critical. Writing, singing, advocating. If it gets bottled inside I will implode.

Even though my head is shouting toxic thoughts about myself and jumping on my self esteem I will reach out. I will go and have coffee with a friend. Even when my head is saying I am not likable. That people don’t want me as a friend. That people see me as weak. That I am fat. That I need to lose weight, to cut, to harm myself in some way to justify my existence. Even though I face this I will continue to face my fears and live with them. I will adjust my chameleon suit for another day. 

A reminder: You work to live, not live to work. 

Off with the meds! 

The struggle is real but I have had a really good week. A week where I feel like I have accomplished meaningful and important things.

I went off my meds just after Xmas. I had tapered down a little but then just dropped off. It’s not too risky on these ones seeing as tho they have a long half life. At first I lost sense of time. After 2 weeks I thought it had been 6 weeks. My sense of balance and proprioception changed. I felt like my eyes had just got a new prescription of glasses and I was walking around not exactly sure where things began and ended. That has gone away. After about 3 weeks I have had a rough time dealing. Irritable, shouting, teary, crying. I’ll give it another 2 weeks…. And this week has been great.

The struggle is still real. My sensitivity feels heightened and my body responds. Whether it is goosebumps or the urge to cry, I have to work hard with the strategies I have learnt in recovery to continue to keep from purging or self harm. I’m still winning.

Here’s hoping that “off with the meds” is not “off with my head”

Shared musings 

I want my feelings to spill on the pavement.
Out of me.
The shame inside is too much.

I need to get rid of this shame but keep from exposing this to anyone else.

The urge to secretly let it spill where no one can see is a convincing thought. Let out the poison.
Yes, dump it; so no one knows, just how deep the ‘you don’t want me’ goes. 

Numb me now

6am cycle class brought exhilaration today. I was dancing on my bike. Elated. Feeling the groove. In the zone. Free. The joys of recovery; to exercise with happiness instead of grueling compulsion.  

How quickly a day can change. 

I was trying to watch a movie at home but kept being interrupted by children. I actually really needed some down time and I was getting so frustrated by thwarted attempts. Insert twisties and Tim tams. Yep it went through my mind that this wasn’t a good option. Again. A little unsettled after my poor choices I took the kids out and I received some tragic news. 

News that makes you question the world and the evil that can end life by another’s hand. I am rocked. I can’t deal. Alcohol enters the mix. But I have stopped. No more. 

I need some TLC and rest. Please family, I need your kindness. 

Grieving. 

Chocolate is not the answer

 Frustrated, getting angry… 1st response? ‘I want chocolate’

Why I would want chocolate after watching ‘That sugar film’ today is astonishing but that’s what sugar does. 

Breathe. My son was verbally hammering me with arguments after plans had changed, I’m 40th in the queue waiting to try fix our internet that’s been down for 5 days (on school holidays!!!!????!!!) and have tried to contact them several times to no avail. 

So, getting back to I want to feel better, and the first urge is sugar. 

I’m trying the ‘you can have it if you want it but do you really want it?’ And my emotional reaction is YES I WANT IT! But I’m not in wise mind right now so I need some space to deal with my emotions without kids interrupting me telling me they have worms…. Again, another child wanting to know how far I am now in the queue. ‘Erghhhh I am trying to deal with my emotions here so I don’t eat, you go deal with yours!’ 

Right now as I’m writing this blog, this is me using distraction. Trying to fill the time till my emotions come down. Trying to express my voice and not suppress it with food. AND ITS WORKING!! 

Crisis averted. The answer is not chocolate. 

Self therapy; week 1

Today I got a heap of housework done. It’s school holidays so I am bombarded with children and forgot that I had planned to go to yoga today.  Gah! I’m out of routine and it’s hard to get back. Instead I have over eaten. 

I started the day off well after reading a purists take on food last night. Lemon water on rising. Mmm nice. I’m feeling healthier already. The warning bells have been ringing since last night thinking about following a healthy approach to eating. It is extremely restrictive. Restrictiveness for me leads to bingeing later… But if I can just get through my sugar detox then I’ll be ok right? Eat plenty of vegetables, eggs and a little meat and I’ll be so healthy. 

This train of thought is what my therapist would call my sneakiness finding a loophole. It’s written in my maintenance plan…. ‘Is there any thoughts or actions that are trying to find loopholes for weight loss’ … There it is written in black and white. 

So I had a latte a bit later after my lemon water. Dairy is a no-no according to this wellness consultant. But hey, I can’t jump into health to a different extreme. I need to find my middle ground for a while. Cement my feet mid see-saw and not undo all the difficult work I have been doing for the past few years. 

The seed that I planted last night about pure and restrictive eating had already affected my eating patterns today. Eating more and eating junk. Already I was worried I would never get to eat it again, hence the ‘fill up now’ reaction. 

So this week I am focusing on when going to eat; “you can have it if you want it, but do you really want it?’ 

I’ll keep the lemon water and increase preparing healthy meals. But that’s it. Do not plan to remove anything. You’re not ready for that.