The first post is the deepest....

Body dismorphic disorder.....that's what they call it. ya know, when you see yourself in a completely different way than others see you, or as is reality. we all have moments when we think we look bad...or conversely, really good. but this is the thing that gets eating disordered people crazy. when the 90lb girl thinks she looks chubby or even fat, even knowing how wrong this was. and there are varying degrees of it, just like anything else. i didn't think i had it at all til i was in the hospital - ha! no, i'm a good 15 lbs heavier than when i was admitted there. i can see the good and bad in my physical self since then. the bad is that sometimes my "skinny" jeans are tight now. and the muffin-top creeps over the waistband. all my jeans were hanging off of my when i was admitted. as was my skin. when you are so severely dehydrated like that, your flesh is no longer supple or plumpish. you're body eats away at itself and uses every bit of its resources to save itself. dehydration is really the biggest threat. that's when your electrolytes get messed up and out of whack so bad that your heart's functioning power gets sketchy. the potassium packs they administer via IV hurt BAD. and the rehydration process takes days. every single time you stand up, or even stand from sitting position you about pass out. the blackness, the dizzy feeling...and on top of all of that your brain chemicals are so messed up that you are super emotional. angry, sad, depressed, afraid. and in the hospital they feed you. and it's forced. and it's monitored. you have to lick the cover of the yogurt container - every single calorie is accounted for. and you sit there like cattle being fed before slaughter...and in 16 hrs of therapy a day. and everyone, no matter how beautiful you think they are - or how underweight - or even how ill looking they are...is envious of the skinniest one. And when the new admits come in, and we've all been feeding at the trough for days....a terrible triggering effect ripples through the floor. Competition and rage. Doesn't matter how sick s/he is or how young or old or close to death. We all still want to be that thin again. and many of us would be.....and some of us died trying.
i'm not sure why i'm writing this stuff today. guess i needed to get it out. i think i was bothered by a conversation i had with my roommate from the hospital last night. They have a support group on Tuesdays, which i attended religiously for months after my release. But when you are released, they ensure you have an outpatient team to see. You see the psychiatrist that admitted you monthly, and a therapist and a nutritionist weekly. The therapist takes care of your mental needs and addictions and the nutritionist works with you on the ED related stuff, more specifically. What you are actually eating or not. What's working or not. Exercise, patterns, behaviors, monitoring your weight, etc. We're not allowed to own scales you know. And that was really hard to give up when you are used to weighing yourself 10-15 times a day. And yes, you don't need to tell me how dumb that is....i know. But even when you know, you can't stop yourself from doing it. But we find them everywhere. At the gym, in our doctor's offices, at Bed Bath & Beyond. I haven't known my weight now for about 4 mos. I think that was the last time i cheated and got on the scale at the gym. And it calls me everytime i walk by it. But i know i can't get on cuz it'll throw me off track and maybe even into an ED spiral for days. But i can't go to the hospital support group anymore. I go to one thru my nutritionist's office. My friends from the hospital are all on facebook and i see their struggles. But they aren't working the program either. They haven't decided yet, truly made the decision that they want to live MORE than they want to be thin. Being thin is still their main focus in life. And i gave up that main focus. I mean, don't get me wrong....i would still LOVE to be smaller, tighter and better. But now i'm trying to work on being HEALTHY and that's a big difference. But i struggle some days. Yesterday i struggled alot. Yesterday was bad. But the difference is that now, i forgive myself and start over. Recovery is never perfect - but i do have hope. i want it. i need it. Living a "normal" existence is so alluring to me. And last night was the hospital support group. And many of them always call me, every Tuesday "Are you coming tonight?" they ask. No....i'm not. Finally last night, after my old roommate told me how badly she is struggling, i said to her..."i'm sorry, i love you all...but i can't go to that group anymore. it's triggering and filled with bad energy and intentions, and as much as i care for you all...i can't do it anymore." She was silent. And i know that they need to find their own way. Hit their own bottom and pull their way back out of the holes they are in toward the sunlight again. But of the 14 of us that were in the hospital together, one is dead, at least 3 are close to death, 5 that i know of are heavily back into their diseases again - both the men are really sick again and they were some of my biggest inspirations during my inpatient time - and there a at least 5 or 6 (maybe more) that have been re-hospitalized or placed in a long term residential program since Sept. And one of the is a bloody nutritionist for godsakes!

So i have been pulling away from them all bit by bit. I wanted to be supportive in the beginning and help and talk everyday and send them love notes and texts. But i can't do it anymore. It really tugs at my heart to turn away like this. But its self preservation. They haven't decided to LIVE yet. And oh god, it's so hard to do that! I just told my husband last night, after being knee deep in ED shit all day...that sometimes, even though i know how horrible it is, and how bad it makes me feel...i just want to be there again. Sick and hungry and weak and angry and dizzy. Because i did it for so long, the allure of being there again is like going home. And i know this hurts those who love me. i'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you, or myself. But recovery ain't perfect. And i'm working really hard at it, please know this. And unlike all those from the hospital that are still sick or back in the hospital again...i have unwaveringly seen my team since my release. I go every single week. And i trust them and they are giving me the tools and motivation to stay on track. And my support group now is full of people who are in recovery. I mean, we all have our moments of struggle. But for the most part, everyone is dedicated to healing. To living a happy life and letting ED go. And that's the difference. I must see the hope. I must see those who have done it and hug them and absorb their strength and allow their light to shine into my shadowy crevices where ED still lurks.

yet, i feel guilty for those i am leaving behind. lost little lambs. but i can't be their shepard. i can only save myself - and that's hard enough