I'm hacked. I just sat and blogged for fifteen minutes and lost it all. Dammit to $#@&! It wasn't important anyway. Mostly it was about how my blogs are aimless and pointless and don't have a theme. Like Clinically Clueless wrote recently about suicide and a member of Jumping in Puddles wrote about God and Jesus and Lola wrote candidly about her eating disorder. I never know what to write.
I offer rambles to the readers. Little snippets about my day and my pretensions of recovery. I see my T. 3x a week now, yet he only calls it a lapse, not a relapse. Whatever the fuck you call it, I'm going down, fast and furious. I'm pissed off at something I saw on Dr. Phil today. Of course I'll watch anything on eating disorders and he featured males with eating disorders. The guest doctor he featured on there was from Rogers Memorial Hospital in Wisconsin. It was a psychiatrist I had seen before, although he wawsn't my assigned doctor. In any case, I was a little stunned. Whatever. Dr. Phil was talking about how Rogers Memorial was a cutting edge hospital and was the best of the best. It upset me. I attended Rogers before and I thought if this hospital is really the best of the best then what hope is there for me. If I attended the best of the best and I'm still eating and throwing up and exercising 95 minutes in one day, what do I have to say for myself.
I hate myself all the more as I write this post. When will it dawn on me? I have goals and aspirations. I want to go back to school; I want to be an English teacher and eventually get my post doc degree and teach college. So what is wrong with me? Why am I LETTING myself plunge so deeply in this eating disorder? I feel like a disgusting, worthless human being. I'm an embarassment to myself.
I pay a heavy price to keep the eating disorder and the illusion of recovery. But I know no other way for safety, asylum, and protection. I try to balance between the two.
My head is switching alot right now. I can't get my thoughts out. The alters that sabotage my recovery are competing with the members that keep the eating disorder. I'm in between with a spinning head. Stripped of identity, voice, and opinion. I know this makes no sense but they've taken me.
It makes me really sad. My heart is heavy and I just want to go away.
Welcome to Missing In Sight. You may call us Becca. We deal with Dissociative Identity Disorder, Anorexia, and more. We want to share our experiences, hope, and inspiration with you so we all know we aren't alone and suffering by ourselves. We're here Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and sometimes in between, but you can reach out to us by leaving a comment, tweeting us, or using Facebook. The links are on this page.! We're glad we found each other! Let's talk!
4 comments:
Listening.
A part of me wanted me to let you know that.
Feeling completely powerless, even the part of me that I call "helper" feels completely helpless to offer you "help" which is what he was trying to do when he sent you a too long email, not so long ago. Other parts of me are glad he didn't succeed because there is a part of me who equals "getting helped" (in any form whatsoever) with "getting crippled" similarly to a butterfly story I once heard. Do you know the story?
Just because a team are supposed to be the best of the best, doesn't mean they will be the best for you. If their treatment didn't work, it just means the treatment failed, not you, not them, it's just a matter of finding the right approach. It doesn't mean all hope is lost, all hope is never lost, just your sight of it is blinkered when you are trapped in a hole.
When you are Anorexic your faith in everything is shredded, yourself especially. I know you can do this, because you are strong enough to recover. Your strength comes across so loudly in your words, you just need a jump start. Thinking of you.
Lola x
Sam,
I don't know the butterfly story. May you tell me? I'd like to hear.
Tx.
M.I.S.
Missing In Sight,
I'm glad a part of you would like to hear the story. I don't know why, I just am. I'd love to tell you the story we have once heard.
A man found a cocoon of a butterfly.
One day a small opening appeared.
He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours
as it struggled to squeeze its body through the tiny hole.
Then it stopped, as if it couldn't go further.
So the man decided to help the butterfly.
He took a pair of scissors and
snipped off the remaining bits of cocoon.
The butterfly emerged easily but
it had a swollen body and shriveled wings.
The man continued to watch it,
expecting that any minute the wings would enlarge
and expand enough to support the body,
Neither happened!
In fact the butterfly spent the rest of its life
crawling around.
It was never able to fly.
What the man in his kindness
and haste did not understand:
The restricting cocoon and the struggle
required by the butterfly to get through the opening
was a way of forcing the fluid from the body
into the wings so that it would be ready
for flight once that was achieved.
Sometimes struggles are exactly
what we need in our lives.
Going through life with no obstacles would cripple us.
We will not be as strong as we could have been
and we would never fly.
If you'd like to discuss the possible interpretations, there is a part of me that would be immensely happy to discuss it with you.
Samo
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