Sunday, August 19, 2012

Back From Unannounced Hiatus???

It's been about five months since my last post.  I know there are a few people who follow this blog, and I am sorry.  There have been a lot of changes in my life, and I should have been posting about them.  It wasn't until I read a friend's blog the other day that the urge to write returned.

More and more I've been thinking of sharing this blog with my family and friends.  Many of them don't know about my struggle, they've never heard about diabulimia.  If they've heard about it, they don't think I have it. There is a definite fear of letting them know. This monster that is still present in my life seems too venerable to put out in the open.  Because even though it is a monster, it is mine.  Even though I'd love for it to be gone forever, the thought of not having her is frightening.

For months, I have tamed her.  My health is better because of it.  However, knowing she is still lurking underneath everything remains a comfort.  It's like those people who have tigers or bears for pets.  They tame them, swear they are gentle, and yet one day the tiger or bear starts acting like an animal.  Usually the ending to the story isn't positive.  Part of me knows that I should know better.  That my monster may be dormant now, but that doesn't mean she'll never act on her wild instincts.  I would be better to let go of her, release her.  The other part of me feels like I can't.  She is mine, and I cling to her.

Will I ever be "cured"?  I don't rightfully know.  It's a common belief that eating disorders never truly go away, just like Type 1 Diabetes.  I used to think if diabetes was cured than maybe the diabulimia would go away too, but now I just wonder if my monster will manifest itself as another eating disorder. I'm still striving to find the perfect balance between binging and limiting food, because I seem to always be doing one or the other.  Yet, at the same time I'm healthy right now.  It's conflicting, and I feel crazy.

As a diabulimic I don't feel like I fit in anywhere.  "Healthy" diabetics can't wrap their heads around someone not taking insulin.  People with "standard" eating disorders like anerexia and bulimia don't seem to understand that our feelings are the same, but the method different.  "Normal" people (those without diabetes or an eating disorder) seem to have a hard enough time understanding diabetes, let alone an almost unspoken of eating disorder that goes along with it.  I feel alone with this, and scared for the others out there.  I know so many of you feel alone too, and to say "we are not alone" seems foolish.  My struggle is only known by a few.  I hope we will all find each other, so we don't have to be alone anymore.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Lost My Sight.

Life's been tough lately.  I just thought I'd put that out there in case no one got that from my last blog.  However, in its "toughness" I think that I lost sight of my goals.  Not only what I wanted for my treatment, but what I wanted for my life.


Yesterday, I didn't want to leave the house because I thought I looked too fat.  I haven't done that in a really long time.  While I was hanging out with friends they kept asking me why I looked so mad.  I told them I wasn't.  How are you supposed to tell people "I think I look too fat to be outside"?



Earlier, I read a letter I had written about a year ago.  The words I read seemed to come from a someone other than the woman writing this blog right now.  That letter was understanding.  It didn't self-criticize and give an excuse.  Instead, it asked for forgiveness and patience.

Forgiveness and patience.  Two things I have been denying myself for several months.  For months I have been beating myself over every perceived mistake.  Nothing has felt like enough, even if I was told that I had done a good job.  I have spent months trapped by these thoughts.  It has made my life harder and unhappier.  I have created situations in my head and let them effect my reality.

This is not who I wanted to be.  This is not the person I am working towards.  I slipped back into a mindset without even knowing it.  I lost sight of myself for one minute and the disgusting "monster" that is everything my diabulimia is took over.

I'm sitting here feeling sad.  I wish I could think of a better word but I can't.  I am sad that I have been hating myself for so long.  I am sad that I believed I was unworthy of love and happiness.  I am sad because these thoughts consumed me... but in that sadness there is freedom.  Freedom because I know that I don't have to be that sadness any longer.

I am going to choose to let this sadness go.  I am going to choose to allow myself to love whole heartedly and receive love whole heartedly.  I am going to choose to let the person I am be the person in the mirror.  I will choose to defy all weight on any scale.  I will choose happiness.

Monday, February 27, 2012

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Having an eating disorder isn't easy.

Being diabulimic makes me angry.

Maybe I don't say that out loud enough.  Perhaps I don't give myself enough credit for trying to free myself from my self-created cage.  I notice it in flashes.  Parts of the day in which I'm still trapped.  When I think I'm "okay" I wonder if I really am.  It's hard not knowing that.  When am I okay?  When does this torture that I feel stop?

I don't have an answer really.  The binges have gone away.  I'm taking my insulin, but I feel weak.  I feel like the thin piece I keep grasping, the piece that fights back every other thought and instinct, is about to crumble under the pressure.  If it does, I don't know what will happen.  When things go wrong I feel like everything starts to spiral out of control.  It's so hard for me to "go with the flow."  I just feel like that's impossible for me right now.

I lost my job.  My last day was on my birthday.  I knew it was coming, and I tried to find another but I failed.  I failed at that.  I made money for my family, I could provide them with groceries, gas, and whatever else was needed.  Now I cannot.  This makes me useless.  For the past three days I have felt like crawling into bed and never getting out.  I feel on edge about absolutely everything.  I keep trying to say it in a way that makes someone understand, but I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear it.

I wish that there was an answer, but right now there isn't.

I'm sorry this isn't happier.  Maybe next time.