Eating my Silence

Suspend what you think you know, and hear everything that needs to be said, wants to be said, has to be said, but the words are eaten by silence.

 

You don't know with whom you are dealing.

Ask no questions.

Finite Capability

Depression has slammed into me today; a blanket of bruising blues.  And the head hurts like fireworks exploding inside their own shells.   I don't know how this post will be accomplished.

I didn't realize the extent to which my emotions had captured me when I woke this morning until I couldn't figure out which breakfast had the fewer calories.  My indecision told me I was in store for a difficult day.

I consumed my breakfast, and now it has consumed me: the worry, the constant turning over in my head how I will burn the calories or will I give in and relax today.

I fell back asleep and slept through the time I normally walk my dog Maybelline; however, her incessant whining to take her out bullied me into acquiescing and I walked her.

Days like this I hate because there is no structure, which makes restriction all the more difficult.  Husband works both jobs today, so I will not see him until tomorrow.

This week has been difficult.  Either I've been dissociative all week or I'm just stupid because I have not been abler to process information to any degree.  I'll read and not comprehend at all what it means.  It's not a matter of not being able to pay attention.  What's happening is I'm just not "getting" it.   I've been following allow in printed work while it is audibly read to me, so it's not a matter of not being able to pay attention or a learning style.  My thoughts are thick and sluggish, like when I get dissociative.  It doesn't surprise me the parts and pieces would be more active right now considering the back and forth arguing over what is happening regarding food, a fight we don't want anymore but can't let go.

Someone made a meme last night.  I observed it, though didn't participate, but I guess I was complicit because I didn't try to stop it.  Lately, there has been the faintest whisper, barely detectable, unidentifiable, that tries to whisper, "It's okay.  You can let go now."

And when this little suggestion comes, there is almost but not really a tender suggestion of peace.  I become teary now thinking about it, but quickly snap back to reality because that murmur is always followed up with the louder voices that are mean and punishing and resolute to do the opposite.

Fuck them all.

I'm done.  My head hurts.  I can't finish this post.

Both Roads Taken

Another sleepless night so far.  The anxiety has mostly lessened since my previous post,  but the sleepless nights continue despite medication.  Psychiatrist gave me a new med to try, but it gives me an unrelenting headache the next day, and it also causes weight gain, so I won't use it anymore.  I've gone back to my previous sleep med, but it isn't working.  It's our lot in life.

I purged twice today.  I can't remember the last time I purged.  I'm not sure why I engaged in this behavior.  Maybe I know.  Maybe I don't.  Who cares?  All I know is I think about food constantly.  Continually.  Non stop.  Without letup.  And it is ENOUGH!!

When is the next time I can eat?  What will I eat?  How many calories will it have?  How will it taste?  What will Husband think if he sees me eat?  How can I hide it?  Now that I've eaten, when is the next time I can eat?

OR THESE THOUGHTS

How can I refrain from eating?  What activity can I do next time I'm hungry instead of eating?  How will I feel?  What will I do if I eat anyway?  How many squats do I need to do to burn off the calories?  How many calories am I NOT burning by sitting on the couch?  What can I do to jumpstart my weight loss?

The list of questions go on and on and on.

One of us mentioned before how the eating disorder is a safety net, a way to get out of being an adult, and/or taking responsibility, a way to keep us child-like, but it is so much more.

Put the ED behaviors aside, the eating disorder and body image thoughts themselves can not be curbed.  They are incessant and do not exist as a safety net.  They do not protect; they do not shelter; they do not comfort.

They plague us.  They are compulsive, urgent, and overwhelming, and I do not know how to break them.  I am threatened by their existence.  We are at their mercy, and I can not be responsible for their actions.

Bottom line is we are out of control from both sides.  And while the eating disorder in and of itself may be insurance, the thoughts are not.  They are menacing and commence our feelings and behaviors.

We are reminded of the end of a poem written by Robert Frost entitled "The Road Not Taken."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Just like the narrator says, we are choosing the road less traveled, and I know it will make all the difference.  It has before.

Amen.