T-24hrs 4:02am

My heart is hurting for so many reasons and yet for absolutely no reason at all.

I've been in quite high spirits the last few days so I could simply chalk up this unexpected feeling of sadness to the fact that it is 3:30am and I am utterly exhausted with sleep no where in my near future.

Insomnia is showing it's invisible face for a reason though, because my brain is spinning. It doesn't stop, wont stop, can't stop. Could it be the curse of the creative mind, the madness that breeds inside of me forever, or just the fact that there are cookies down stairs that I foolishly bought that I want but wont eat. No... that can't possibly be it. They'll be in the trash tomorrow, I swear it.

I want to purge so badly right now, but I can't. I actually can't. Somewhere vomiting took a back seat to the importance of my teeth. Progress? Maybe. Too bad it didn't take a back seat to my health sometime ago. So I'm sitting here in extreme angst waiting for the 14 lax to kick in before I can feel empty again. I was so stupid tonight. There wasn't even a binge to justify the purge, the purge that wont even happen till morning. It was simply because I've eaten like a normal person for the last three days, normal person or maybe just more than an anorexic would eat. I don't know what a normal person eats. Regardless... It was too much and I sabotaged it willingly.

I've gained ten pounds today.

While we're here...

I'm planning an extended fast that I don't want to happen...

My feelings are hurt...

I miss someone that lives a million miles away...

I hate October, more so, I hate Halloween...

I don't know when an appropriate time is to tell someone I have an Eating Disorder that I may or may not plan on dating...

I don't want to date anyone, let alone someone who makes food for a living...

Scratch that, the thought of dating anyone or someone who makes food for a living scares the living shit out of me I don't even know how to put it into words...

I hate that I blog and no one comments, ridiculous, I know...

I use to post my blog on Facebook, and then only on Twitter, and now nowhere. I feel so much shame in having an Eating Disorder and I'm wondering why there is so much shame in something like this...

I simply want to know what it's like to be normal, if for only a day...

I want to throw the rest of the lax out with the cookies but I probably wont...

I have to lose ten pounds in two weeks...

My ambitions are high and I fear my talent will never measure up...

I'm too much to handle, I'm sure of it...

I just want to run away and start fresh...

I don't think I believe in monogamy...

I truly believe there is enough love in this world, people just need to stop seeing so much hate...

I need to apologize/thank someone who has made up a total of two hours in my life but has been nothing but kind to me and has shown nothing but concern for me.

This blog post will be deleted within the next 24hrs...

I'm a beyond confused individual.

I could turn any one of these lines into a blog post no problem, the elaborations of each word is what is keeping me from sleep. And maybe the fact that I am trying to name my kitten that I don't yet have, that may not exist yet.

I'm way beyond weird, aren't I?

It's Okay To Let Go...

There is no getting around the idea that people are going to talk about you. You'll be graced with those around you that will speak highly of you, in the most positive way, and just have a genuine love for you. It's fair to say that even those who love you, may vent in a not so friendly way at times. You can't please even the best of friends all the time, and thats okay. We're bound to annoy, anger, and get on the nerves of people we tend to spend a lot of time with. Embrace it. People are also going to talk pretty effing shitty about you too. Please, embrace that also. Because those who do that, quite obviously have other things going on in their lives, most of the time it isn't even directed towards you, they just need an outlet for their anger in whatever way they see fit. Just simply make sure they aren't actually a direct part of your life in the future. What people say negatively about you behind your back isn't a true reflection of who you are, it's the way you choose to respond to that, with grace and respect, that shows your ultimate character.

I was cleaning up my house the other day and came across a picture of someone I had been friends with for nearly 16 years. Long time for sure. We've had our ups and downs, fake ups, and ultimately our last down. In the picture we must have been maybe 15 years old. I can remember my life at that time slowly starting to fall apart. 15 year olds aren't suppose to have that much pain in their lives, and at the time, we both had things going on that no one should ever go through. But separately and together we smiled and pushed through it a way a 15 year old would. A picture speaks a 1000 words, gives a million memories, and sends out so much emotion you can barely stand. The socks we were wearing touched my heart, the sweaters, the colour of my room, the stuffed animals that casually sprawled out on my bed and the smiles on our faces that may or may not have been real, made me sad and confused and hurt all at the same time. A simple picture. I went to throw it out, instead I carefully removed it from the frame, merely folded it in two, and put it in a box. That time of my life is over but for some reason I couldn't throw it out. It was almost as if I was about to throw out 16 years of my life. Which I theoretically have but I wasn't sure I so tangibly wanted to do it just yet. So I kept it.

For me, it was time to end the friendship. With no ill will towards her, she is a certain person, as am I, and the toxicity between the two of us was awful. Did I feel bad? Certainly. I think I felt the most bad that I didn't do it sooner, that I thought we couldn't make a friendship work because I was too sick. I so often feel that I have to be able to befriend everyone in my life and if I can't then there must be something wrong with me. I can find something great in everyone and the fact that I couldn't find a good reason to keep this person in my life made me feel sick. It's like you're trapped in love where you just want to try and try and try to make it work, knowing very well in the back of your mind, in the depth of your soul... it never will. So I ended it, in a maybe not so conventional way but in the best way I knew how. And for me that's all that mattered. I knew very well what would happen... and it did. Which validated every reason in my books, plus many more I didn't even know existed, about why I had to eliminate this person from my life. I would never dream of saying the things to her she said to me, would never plan her demise as she mine. A girl who once gave me the keys to her place to feed her sweet little cats, now wishes I had nothing but hate in my life. If nothing else, it hurts, and I'm sure she is more than thrilled that I feel hurt from her. Truth is, as I anticipated, a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders now that the longest chapter of my life has come to a close. It's not a crime to not want someone in your life, no matter how long they have been a permanent fixture. It's not a sign of weakness to release the negative, to do what's best for you. It's not my Eating Disorder talking, I want to be rid of that as much as I want to be rid of bad friendships, so I knew what I had to do. I just know I possess more respect, more class, and more dignity.

This Post Took Me Weeks To Write... Ironic I'd Say.

Recovery attempt number 5623.25

 or close to. 

Certainly feels that high anyway.

The most important thing to do when it comes to recovery, is to do everything that makes you uncomfortable. Anything that makes you fearful. Do everything you don't want to do. Essentially, what you're doing right now... stop... and do the opposite.

When I say do everything you don't want to do... it's more of an illusion of the things you don't want to do that you do in fact really really want to do.

In this case, the things that I want to do.

I think that was incredibly confusing, I hope you followed me there.

1. Go to Yoga. I mean everyone, just go to yoga, not just me. It will enrich your life so much, keep you grounded when you need it most, give you a soft kick when you need a little motivation and most importantly, you'll learn how to breathe. Yoga scares the shit out of me right up until the moment I walk through the doors and lay down my mat. And then suddenly nothing matters during my practice except me and what I'm taking from each class. I psych myself up so bad that I believe I'm the worst person to ever do yoga, that I will never be good at it and I am SURE everyone is watching me and judging me. Only when I start a practice do I realize how ridiculous I am and not a single person is watching me. I kinda love it though, every time I leave a class I feel like it's the first time I'm doing yoga all over again. Whether I have been going four times a week or haven't been in a month, I leave with the same amount of gratitude, love and clarity and that is the best motivation of all.

2. Run. If you are put into inpatient or daytime inpatient treatment in the hospital, running, walking, and yoga are not acceptable. Walking farther than one subway station isn't even allowed. This may work for some people but it is a weighty component of what is keeping me from entering inpatient treatment. I'm aware I exercise too much, but I also know it helps my soul and my mood. I simply need to find a balance between the two and I'm sure it's out there waiting for me at the top of a mountain somewhere. Running for me is so freeing, and such a sense of accomplishment. It takes away anxiety for me and allows me to think with a more level head, and calms me down enough that I can sleep at night. My only problem is that I don't eat enough to go as far as I'd like to, or as far as I use to be able to. It's a challenge that I keep unnecessarily pushing, instead of taking a step back and walkin' er out. Learning curve.

3. Get rid of the negative. Seriously, take it and throw it in the trash, put it back where you found it and just get it out of your life, immediately. No one has ever benefited from having anything toxic or negative in their life. If it's a living situation, change it. If it's your job, fix it or find a new one. Boyfriend/Girlfriend, friend, enemy... if there is really no way to change the situation to make it better and it is only bringing you down, you know what you have to do. Any chaos that results from it don't take it personally, just know that it's their shit they are dealing with and you did what was best for you. Move on and take care of you.

4. Speak your mind. Being silent in recovery is the worst thing you can possibly do. I often find myself restricting my voice on so many levels for so many reasons. Sometimes I'm afraid of hurting someone's feelings, I think what I'm about to say is stupid or incredibly unimportant, I'm afraid I'm wrong or simply that people don't care much. But the more I restrict my voice the more I cocoon myself into my eating disorder. Reality is, what I have to say is important, if not to other people but to me. Bottling things up destroys you from the inside out. Frankly, things we say aren't going to fly with everyone, people will disagree, but also, so many people will embrace your thoughts and feelings. Speaking your mind allows you to form closer relationships and lets people into your mind. Pretty terrifying stuff... I know.

5. Date. Hahaha. I know right? Dating is human nature, to those unattached of course. Or secretly dating for those of you that are attached. Hey, I don't judge. Dating may be, hands down, the most nerve-rackingly, uncomfortable thing I can put myself through. I have to talk, there is no getting away from that. I have to pretend I'm normal, and be witty and entertaining for a few hours. If you know how socially awkward I can be at times, you know how strange this gets for me. I have to hold someone else's attention and share things about myself. It's scary for me to share even what I did the day before with someone, never mind anything remotely personal. There is surely no getting out of that though. And I have to eat sometimes, and smile and laugh while I'm doing it so this foreign person doesn't think I'm completely off balance in life. I'll share with you an experience I had the other day... I went on a date with this really great guy, and pretty late too, so I naturally expected that I wasn't going to have to go out and eat by this point. Boy was I mistaken. I'm trying to be as normal as possible in most social situations, so I reluctantly agreed to head to a place I have very much been avoiding for a very long time. It scares me, and he scares me and the entire scenario just scared me, so I knew I had to do it. And I ate, everything I don't eat, and I laughed and I actually had a really great time. Now I'm just trying to figure out how to break the news to him that I indeed don't eat those things and it was completely a one time thing, I just really didn't want him to think I was weird. I think this point goes back to speaking my mind, but hey, I'm workin on it. The other part about dating that I have severe issues with is that you don't know where it's going to lead at any given moment. I need to, and prefer to, take things slow. It's that awkward end of date where you don't know whether to go in for the hug or to gently pull them in for that sweet kiss. Or that moment they ask to come up and you want to run screaming... I mean, I want to run screaming. It's hard, for me at least, to explain where I'm at and way easier for me to head for the hills. So generally by date two you can expect me to make excuses for why I'm busy, and eventually you'll never hear from me again. I find it's rare to meet a guy who doesn't expect a lot by date three, and I also think I'm a rare case that would much rather get to know someone... well... before anything else happens. I'm guarded, a bit jaded, and am incredibly careful who I let into my home. I've had some not so great things happen to me in the past and I will do everything in my power to be sure that who I'm with respects me and my body. So if you happen to date me... be gentle.

6. Get out of the house. This is a lot of the times the hardest thing for me to do. Sometimes, I just don't feel like it. The hard part isn't necessarily removing myself from my house, but to actually interact with other people outside of my house. I'm more than content to grab a coffee and spend my entire day, alone, perusing the city. It's when I have to be social that gets me. Shocking? Didn't think so. I don't know what to expect, I don't like surprise outings, I'm nervous to meet new people for fear of them thinking I'm strange. Maybe I'll have to go to that restaurant I've been trying to avoid forever, maybe I'll have to consume more calories than I allotted for the day, maybe I just don't want to talk or be seen, maybe I'm fatter today than I was yesterday, my shirt could be white instead of black, fuck, I could virtually find any reason under the sun to not have to go out. And I for the most part do grasp at every reason in the book. This is one aspect that I definitely need to try harder at, and I will, I swear.

So here is me trying to be accountable for my actions for the 5623.25th time. Ugh. Recovery is beyond exhausting. I get negative sometimes (understatement of the century) I know, and 95% of the time I believe recovery is impossibly over rated. Ha. I give you permission to give me a good swift kick in the butt if I need it, but please, in the most polite way. Don't hesitate to bring to my attention that I do, in truth, want this, need this, crave recovery. Sometimes I need someone to tell me to snap out of it and get back on track.

Le Sigh... This road is an infinity... Who knows where it will take us next. 

Gobble Gobble, I'm slow on the uptake...obvs

A few days late, but not a buck short. My intentions are pure.

   Thanksgiving rolls around and a bounty of mixed emotions appear within me. An abundance of excitement, a jar full of fear, sprinkled with a handful of anxiety. It makes for a beauty of a plate. This was the first Thanksgiving I wasn't suppose to spend with my family. I unfortunately got scheduled to work, the entire weekend. As the holiday approached, residual sadness just followed me around like a lost puppy dog. Curled up in the warmth of my eating disorder, I hoped so hard that things would change and I could see my family. I knew seeing them would be the only thing that would get me somewhat out of my head. So when Saturday came and I got called off my double, I was entirely convinced I would be called off Sundays as well. And much to my amazement, I was. I think it was all the hoping I was doing in my heart. I hightailed it up so fast to Bradford without a care in the world, knowing whole heartedly, the painful few weeks I was indulging in, would come to an end or at least be put on hold for a couple days.

   As tradition would have it, the holiday is a time to be Thankful for what we have, to voice it, to acknowledge it, to own and to love it. Of course we should be doing this everyday, but we don't as much as we should. So maybe it's not so terrible that I'm writing this a few days after the weekend.
Despite my ranting and raving about the effects and lifestyle of having an eating disorder, I don't feel sorry for myself that I live with it. I really just want it gone, it's painful. I'm not blinded by all the things I have in this life though. For all the things I have to be grateful for...

   At the top of every list in my books is my Family. Majority of my family are pretty big foodies. Every family get together is revolved around food, wine and love. This is probably every family maybe but under any other circumstances unrelated to the people I adore most in this world, there is zero way you would ever get me there. Here's the thing, they don't judge me. They don't force me if I don't want to eat, and they don't make me feel like I'm a terrible person. This often results in me having the ability to eat like a "normal" person without feeling like the entire world is staring directly back at me instead of their own mashed potatoes. This, of course hasn't always been the case, nor is always the case, but it is getting more and more frequent as the months go on in my life. I still feel anxiety about what I ate but the surrounding of so much love and happiness trumps the want to be symptomatic more and more. Whether I only get a few hours or a couple days, it's a time where I can be who I am without having to worry about impressing people or pleasing anyone in the process. I can eat things I would never dare at home, I can laugh till my cheeks hurt and my eyes start to tear, I simply get to witness the most elation and compassion you'd ever think possible. They are my entire spirit.

   I'm surrounded by some pretty fantastic people daily. I don't have many close friends, but the ones I have been blessed with are pretty fucking fantastic. Cousins are very much included in this statement, I know if I'm ever needing a hand to grab, one will forever be there.

   I'm thankful for the ability to see even the most simplistic beauty. Hear the sweetest of melodies and to touch the most precious items that a great deal of people don't get the chance to. I get the pleasure of seeing the sun beaming, and through the grace of my lovely insomnia it's not uncommon to watch it set, as well as rise in the early morning. Blessing...right? Ya, that's it.

   I have an insanely comfy bed to sleep in, a very central loft to live in, and a job that allows me to support myself. I have life experience that has allowed me not to be ignorant to a lot of things in the world. A wealth of knowledge that gives me the opportunity to be kind to others even when I don't want to be kind to myself, and a heart that allows me to feel an incredible amount of love, sometimes to a fault.

   I'm grateful for the dexterity to form words on a page for people to see, for the resilience to stand back up when I fall flat on my ass, for the strength to share my story. I'm fortunate enough to have the durability to fight my battle. Even though some days I feel like I am doing anything but, I am still here and that has to say something. I'm grateful for every single positive in my life, and more so, every negative as well because those just make me that much stronger and learn a little more. I'm beyond appreciative of those who tune into my blog, who comment and share and support and motivate. For those who secretly think I'm crazy or who silently cheer me on, I'm thankful for you too.

My list could go on and on, for this is not all I'm grateful for in this world.

   Above all else, I'm thankful for love. Love in every shape it takes, in all the unexpected places it shows up, in every way it presents it self to me when I need it the most. I just love, love, it's one thing surely no one will ever be able to take from me. 

Share with me what you're Thankful for...

It's Cozy Here.

   For the last two weeks I have quite literally just been sitting in my loft with my Eating Disorder. Maybe longer than two weeks. Uh well... yea... undoubtably longer than two weeks. Indulging in it, entertaining it, loving it. Playing with it, listening to it and letting it drag me down as far as it likes. I've just realized this today. When you fall right back in, it takes a while to actually see it. I've felt the pull, I've known for a while that the struggle seems to be getting more difficult, but I couldn't figure out why. Until tonight, just now, as I was sitting on my bedroom floor on the internet doing everything I shouldn't be doing in relation to my Eating Disorder. I've been invited out by several people, but I'd rather sit on my floor. I haven't any desire to go to work because it's too hard. I've pushed some people away... just because I can. Because I'm not worthy of their affection. No one significant in my life, but people who quite possibly could be very significant at some point. Dating is just not an option, people like that, could never love someone like me, once they get to know what I do on the daily. I'm at a toss up between fighting for life or giving up altogether. I begged and pleaded for help the other night, amongst a thousand tears, a million words, and ten billion different ways to say I'm broken, I got a simple "I love you, but I don't know what to do for you". I don't know what to do anymore either. I don't, I literally don't. It's this point now, this second, I've gotta make a choice. The choice to change or I'm going to go down hard. It's really only in my hands alone, isn't it?

Help me.

Help me fight.

Help me live and help me love.

Treatment Aint Cheap.

I am, very shamelessly admittedly, having a pity party today. And I'm sorry, but I'm not going to feel bad about it either.

I promise my party of pity will cease tomorrow.

I don't feel loved one bit. I know in retrospect that I am loved, so it's quite ridiculous for me to not feel loved. Through no fault of any one that is a part of my life, it has nothing to do with them. It's totally and in every way, my own shit. I don't love me in any form, therefore I believe it quite impossible for anyone to love me. It's hopeless to feel loved by others, if I can't feel love for myself. I'm confused on how I experience love for so many others though. That... that's the part I'm having a hard time with. Why can I love everyone but me.

I don't believe in hospital treatment. It may work for some, and I'm sure it has, but it's just not something I am crazy about. I felt like I was stuck in jail and I had done something wrong when I went (for one day) to inpatient day hospital treatment. Bathroom doors were locked except for 15 minutes before meal time. That's the only time you are even allowed to use them. You had an alloted amount of time to finish each snack and meal. Immediately after eating I wasn't allowed to stand up for 30 minutes, not even to throw my garbage out a foot away. I cried and cried and cried as a nurse sat beside me trying to console me from not wanting to eat, and the doctor was in my other ear playing bad cop on how I had to finish my meal. Inevitably, I didn't and I had to force down a liquid meal substitute for what I didn't eat. Some girls were much thinner than I was, and some girls very much weren't. It felt like a competition in so many ways. I'm sure this doesn't sound horrible to you, but to me it was the most traumatizing thing ever. I didn't eat a thing for a week after and all I did was cry in my bed. Along with participating in inpatient, you must commit to not exercising at all. Walking farther than one subway stop is considered too much. No yoga, no running, no unnecessary walking and for me... no working. I whole heartedly believe that healthy exercise is vital in the treatment of an eating disorder. Yoga helps heal your soul, and your body. I know so many girls recovering who have found love in yoga. A good long walk can help clear your head, just as much, running can as well. Don't get me wrong, people with Eating Disorders often have a terrible time with letting go of the addiction to exercise, but there is certainly a balance to be found and that should all be a part of treatment. You wouldn't tell someone with binge eating disorder that they have to stop eating, so there is certainly no reason to tell someone to stop exercising when recovering from the hardest thing of their lives.

Even if I wanted to participate in inpatient treatment again, I'm fairly sure I couldn't. It has crossed my mind many times in the last few weeks to seek it out again, and in the last several years I have had three opportunities to actually go. I can't afford it. The actual treatment itself is covered by OHIP, but it interferes with any paying job. 9 a.m.-6:30 p.m. for 3-4 months, leaves zero time to work. Which means I couldn't pay rent or anything else life related. On top of the fact that they seriously frown upon me serving because I'm constantly running around all day. They also have quite the wait times as well. A month wait just to assessed after a doctor refers you, and then another 4 month wait at least until you start the program.

There are a few more options...

1. 45 day inpatient treatment in Guelph. 45 days seems a lot better than 3 months, and it's not just day hospital. I'd actually take all my shit and stay there the full 45 days. I've heard some great things about the place... bad news... I've been wait-listed for this treatment program for 19 months already and it doesn't sound like my turn is coming up any time soon. They have a certain amount of ward beds that OHIP covers and that wait is years. Yes... years. I often wonder how many people die waiting for their turn. To get a private bed it costs about $250-$300/day and that wait is still about 6 months. Providing 45 days is sufficient, I'm looking at, at least, $12,000. Awesome.

2. The US has some great facilities that treat eating disorders with high recovery rates. They integrate yoga and healthy exercise into recovery, along with vegetarian/vegan options for food, a focus on if being a vegetarian is the Eating Disorder or a real choice (which I'm having a super hard time with right now) and don't force you to eat everything all at once. They work with you to find recovery in a way that works for you as long as you are moving forward. That's what I've gathered anyhow. OHIP will cover a certain amount of days providing you can prove Canada can't help you. Otherwise... minimum $50,000 for the stay. Double Awesome.

3. Holistic Recovery Centre- $300 for the assessment alone. $175.00/hr for individual therapy, $50.00 for group therapy. $175.00/hr for aftercare. Suggested*2-4 hours of individual treatment daily for up to three weeks. Which I can tell you, 3 weeks wont have someone like me recovered.

As you can tell so far, in order to get into a treatment centre, you've gotta be rich.

Helpless dreaming, but I'd like to think one of the centers in the US would help, unfortunately, that is not possible so instead of wishful thinking, I have to find my own (cheaper) means of doing this.

So here is the list of things that I need... somehow.

Group therapy twice a week, a naturopathic doctor, a therapist, a dietician, yoga, a family doctor and a dentist. I can tell you even group therapy costs $20 a visit, and therapy is $150.00 an hour. On top of everything else I need, you can only imagine how much it all adds up to. The only good thing about this last option is... I can still work.

Can you see where my pity party came into play today?

I can't live like this anymore, I very literally can't, but I can't make it go away. Despite my best efforts (taking supplements) my iron just keeps getting lower and lower. The most strength I can muster up is to get to work, even then I just want to cry because I don't want to be there. I can't shower without bawling because my hair is falling out in handfuls. Without makeup I look like a run down beast with pale skin and giant bags under my eyes. For as long as I can remember I've been trying to be perfect, beautiful on the outside so you can't witness me dying on the inside and soon I'm just going to look like a monster. Oh the irony. I have no clue on how to grocery shop, never mind the inevitable panic attacks that ensue when I enter a grocery store, and every time I eat a "normal" sized meal I'm in an insane amount of pain. I know I have to eat but the fact that I am my own motivation and support system, makes it difficult to force it. I know someone else can't make me better, no one can wave a magic wand and make this all go away. Loving me wont fix me. I need an army, and if I can't find that with the people in my life (and by no means do I expect it from 99% of the people that I do have in my life) then I need to attain it else where.

I've just gotta win the lottery now.

I have this ideal situation where I quit my job and go into treatment and everything is fantastic finally, but sadly it's never going to happen. I very much know that group therapy alone isn't going to make this go away. Most days I feel I would be better off locked up in a treatment centre, preferably not one in a hospital like Toronto General. Mostly money is stopping me, partly fear. Partly believing it's never going to get better. That even if it gets a little better, I'll forever be living with an eating disorder is some aspect or another.

Since I started this blog I've danced around the subject of treatment and always say I'll get to explaining it another day. It just upsets me so much even thinking about how much money it costs to get better. The most deadliest mental illness and you have to be rich to afford the treatment. It doesn't make sense in my brain one bit. I think it's sick, and unfair and stupid. So there you have it finally. A small insight into the costs, the wait times and the duration.

Anyone have $50,000 I could borrow?

Didn't think so.