I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad

I find it kind of funny.

I find it kind of sad.

The dreams in which I’m dying

Are the best I’ve ever had.

Gary Jules – Mad World

Those lyrics are in my head as I contemplate this post.

I find my situation disturbing. I wish it wasn’t happening. What does it say about me?

There can be no truth in dreams; if there is, I’m totally sunk.

Chocolate VitaTop Muffin, honey yogurt, honey graham gold fish, and blackberries. VitaTop muffins, where have you been all my life?

I feel dirty for even broaching this subject: dreams about Therapist still continue. Hold the phone, people! It’s not those kinds of dreams. There is NO sexual content to these dreams whatsoever. But I still find the dreams about Therapist to be unsettling. If it was a one time dream I would think little of it. But it’s happened a handful of times, and enough is enough.

I went crazy for this wrap. It has veggie chicken, spinach, tomatoes, swiss cheese, veggie bacon (a must try if your vegetarian) and of course avocados. All complemented by green beans and mango.

I can’t always remember the dreams, just a bit here and a bit there. What I do remember of the dreams is that Therapist is being kind in some way. Take for example last’s night’s dream; Therapist was consoling us and talking us through a memory. He talked to us very calmly when we were freaking out; he even offered a hug. (I want to rinse my emotions in bleach to take the filth of that away.)

Sweet potato fries, anybody? More for me, then. Also green beans, a cherry yogurt and a Quorn chik'n patty.

I can’t fathom why we’re having these dreams. I’m petrified of what it says about us. We’ve never before had dreams of a therapist, and we’ve had many mental health professionals come and go. Does this mean we’re too dependent on Therapist? Does this mean there is a growing attachment to him? Does this mean the last bit of resistance is wearing away and we will finally give in to the therapeutic process wholly? Conversely, are we still holding back because we’re trying to distance ourselves from Therapist? URRGGH!

We needed a stress break so we baked some Graham Cracker Bread. It didn't turn out as good as we wanted but at least it helped us focus on something other than feeling fat. More on feeling fat later.

I’ve always prided myself on not “needing” a therapist: I’m strong, I'm independent, and I can take care of myself. But what if we are needy? Is that such a cardinal sin?

In the dreams Therapist is emotionally taking care of us, as if he cared and as if we trusted him. Holy h*ll, what does that say about us?

Leftover graham crackers make and excellent evening snack, along with vanilla soy milk.

A mega monster salad. Filled me up good. Spring Mix, Spinach, Green Bell Pepper, Quorn chik'n patty, vegetarian bacon, quinoa, tomatoes, celery, baby carrots, and edamame. And a few pretzels to get my carbs in.

I don't eat food that has a face, but I'll make an exception here. My cute little orange tasted so much better because she was smiling at me.

Afternoon snack. The honey goldfish took a swim in my tummy and they were so, so yummy.

My friend Lea and I went to eat dinner after A.N.A.D. This was my first time eating out at an "unsafe" place. I didn't know the calorie content of anything I ate. I panicked a little bit but Lea was able to talk me through it.

For an appetizer, we had Tiger Edamame. Sautéed in garlic, these were a great way to start the meal.

I forgot to take a pic before I started eating so the picture didn't portray a complete amount of what I ate. It was good and I ate it all. Though now I feel gluttonous and guilty. I came home and immediately looked up the nutritional info to appease my anxiety.

All in all, whatever their meaning, we are having dreams of Therapist. We like the way we feel in the dream because it feels safe, but we don't want the dreams because it feels like it's improper and like we're crossing a line. Whatever the case, I’m angry, angry, angry because it now appears Therapist has this control over us. And I’m angry with us for being needy.

What about you? Do you have dreams about your therapist? Do you feel it crosses a line to have dreams about him/her.

Question Asked, Question Answered Part 2

Castor Girl asked a question of me in a post on May 8 regarding our loneliness and what was causing it. She asked, “Do you know what’s happened to you to make you feel so lonely?”

Several events have taken place that explain the recent onset of loneliness.

First, I started reading a book called Beating Ana, and in this book the author asserts that relationships replace eating disorders. We began to think about this idea and began to see the trueness of the words. For so long we’ve turned down offers to see movies, go shopping, or have lunch because we were too caught up in our eating disorder. Several girls from treatment have tried to befriend us, and, except for one girl, we ignored them. We cultivated a friendship with our eating disorder rather than people. It was more important to us to skip a meal than dine with someone. We didn’t have time for relationships because we were too busy exercising and calorie counting. Restricting food was restricting friendships.

Totally forgot to take a pic of breakfast, and what a shame because it was phenomenal. Anyhow, we picked up with our A.M. snack of mangoes and raspberries. I love raspberries and I love mangoes, but not together. The raspberries were really sharp against the sweetness of the mango.

Which brings us to the second event: what’s important to us is shifting. Being alone may be safe, but it’s not very fun or rewarding. Every now and then we get glimpses of what life could be like without an eating disorder. We see ladies at our EDA meetings and A.N.A.D meetings who all sit and chat and laugh before and after the meetings. We want that.

This was one of the best meals we've had, at least until we ate dinner. But more on that later. Here we have a salad monster, mango, pretzels, and veggie patty with avocado. This was the BEST avocado in the world.

We sit by ourselves while the rooms fill up with people and chatter. We watch and feel jealous of other girls and the friendships they appear to have. It’s a good jealousy, though. It’s a motivator for us to do the work we need to in order to be one of those girls who is friendly and chatty with everybody.

This is a repeat offender of lunch except with green beans and veggie bacon. OMG! The avocado and "bacon" rule! And the green beans with butter wasn't anything to sneeze at. Honestly, the best meal I've ever had. Hands down. Look for it again tomorrow. I've got half an avocado left.

It hasn’t just been about the eating disorder, though. We’ve felt damaged and bad and unlovable. Who would want to be friends with that, with us? But maybe a more objective viewpoint is trying to surface. Yes, we are shy. Yes, we don’t always know the right thing to say. Yes, we are extremely anxious to talk over the phone. But does that make us inherently bad? Does that make us unworthy of friendship?

Snack time. Little honey goldfish swimming in honey yogurt. Tasted like dessert. This was a great day for food.

While we want friends and see the benefit of having friendships in our life, it is also exhausting trying to like and be liked. There is so much baggage that comes with us that we don’t think a friendship is possible. There are too many declarations that need to be made. Too much background, too much get-to-know-you information. It’s just overwhelming. And how much work do you have to do before you begin to relax with that person and let your guard down? Sometimes I think it’s not worth it.

But I digress. We feel lonely because we recognize we are alone, and it is now on the radar as something we want to change. We’ve felt the heart of being lonely and it’s not good enough for us. Being alone is not an option.

Question Asked, Question Answered

A question was asked on my formspring page about why I don’t call my birth mother “mom”. This is a complicated question that has two answers.

First, I stopped calling my birth mother “mom” a long, long time ago. As a child I always called her “mom,” but it was years later when I evaluated her actions that she turned into a birth mother, not a mom. When I conjure up the image of a mom in my head and heart, it is someone who is nurturing, loving, affectionate, and compassionate. It is a woman who protects her children and goes to all costs to ensure they’re safety. My birth mother did none of that.

Fake chicken, it's whats for dinner. And so yummy. Even my meat eater Husband liked it. Tastes like chicken. :)

Was she emotionally or physically protective? No. Did the birth mother set us up to be abused in her house? No. I don’t believe she ever knew about the perpetrators. But later when she did get knowledge of what happened to us it became all about her. It wasn’t, “Oh, you poor daughter. I’ll get you some help.” It was all about her: how could someone do that in HER home and to HER daughter and be HER relative.

Sometimes I don't feel like making a meal, so then I reach for the veggie hot dog. And we sampled some new bar-b-cue chips and they were really yummy.

She was all about the control she had over me. Asa teenager she didn’t want me going over to friend’s houses. So she would create a whole list of Cinderella chores and tell me I could go when my work was finished. There was never a way to finish the work. So I stayed home under her thumb

.

Honey Smacks, anyone? Perfect treat and even better in my paint-your-own pottery bowl.

There were too many fights that she had with the birth father. It made the environment tense and threatening. When birth mother was angry you knew she was coming after you next. She stopped being a mom when she would beat me or throw things and scream. A couple of times she cursed me out.

Veggie ribblets and sweet potato fries. Along with salad monster, mango, and a good book. I was

almost at the end of the book and I wanted to finish reading it. Exciting book.

I grew up feeling like she loved me second to everybody else. Birth mother was always trying to take care of people and she loved kids mostly. She would often invite other children to the house and love on them right in front of me. I never received the attention that other children got. I also remember asking birth mother if she would make me her special dish of macaroni & cheese for me. She said no, but when the other neighborhood kids came over and asked for a special treat they got macaroni & cheese.

The production? Pizza. Cast of characters: Boboli mini crust. Pizza sauce. Fresh tomatoes. Veggie Italian sausage-style crumbles. Mozzarella.

Before and after.

The final production. Delizioso

Another aspect, and more difficult to grasp is that the birth mother only gave birth to this body; she did not give birth to any of us. It is part of the Dissociative Identity Disorder. She did not give physical birth to all of us. Some of us were “born” from her in that her anger produced a part that was needed to deal with her actions, and thus we were created.

Mother’s Day is hard. There is no card exchanged. No brunch to be had. No gift giving or flowers offered. I want a “mom” more than anything. Whenever she’s around I get sucked back into her web thinking “maybe this time she’ll act like a mom.” But things don’t change. I mourn my birth mother every day, but on Mother’s Day it is worse. I think about the good moms out there, ones that treat their daughters with respect and care no matter their age. Ones that promote independence and leave manipulative aspects alone.

Went to a Georgia Tech baseball game. It was fun until I got bored.

So I took a picture of my feet for amusement.

Georgia Tech won the game,

8-4. Go Jackets!

I’m sure to a lot of people it may sound disrespectful not to call her “mom.” It is not meant to be punitive or spiteful to her. It is a matter of protection for us. By not calling her mom it creates an emotional space between the two of us. I can distance myself from her and refute any attempts from myself to get sucked back into the IDEA of her being a mom. I need distance from her. Otherwise, I’ll just end up being hurt again by her.

Castor Girl also asked a of me in her comment. It's a good question and I'll post a second part in "Questions Asked, Questions Answered." Stay tuned.

I need friends. I'm so lonely.

Here's your sign

It happened again. Oh yes, it did!

Let me set the scene for you. So I’ve had a pain in my back for 10.5, and, no, it’s not my husband. I have a herniated disc, L5 S1. So I get epidurals (ouch is right!) every six months or so. Well today I went to my epidural and I haven’t seen this doctor since last year and the first thing he says is, “You’ve gained a few pounds.” WTF? Do I have a sign on me that reads, “Please call me fat”? Does it read “I already have poor body image, so let’s kick her while she’s down.” I mean come on people!! You’ve got to be kidding me with this! Twice in one week I’ve been reminded that I’ve gained weight.

Lunch - Grillers burger, sandwich thin, sweet potatoes (first time eating them) and a salad monster. Oh. Dried mangos.

This bowl is one of the pieces I did in residential treatment. It's to remind me that dreaming, loving, and hoping are things I can have if I just fight one meal/snack at a time.

I cried in Dietician’s office today. I never cry. Someone in the system has taken away the tears. But tonight I cried and it felt good. We talked about my body image and how I feel like I’ve gained weight. She weighed me and, miracle of miracles, my weight was the same. Then why do I feel so freakin’ fat?

Princess Graham Snacks. For the littles, of course. There was a time I would deny my littles the pleasure of a graham snack in the shape of tiaras and princess faces. Shame on me.

To be honest and paranoid I don't really trust the numbers she is working with. I don't trust her to tell me I've maintained when I've actually gained weight. I don't know that she would actually tell me the truth. I have these thoughts that I'll weigh myself in addition to her weighing me so that I can be assured she's not lying to me. My wise mind says she's not lying, but the ED voice is just a little louder and more persuasive.

I did have a soda monster tonight, but not a salad monster. It was all about the asparagus. Steamed then mixed with a little bit of spread and salted until my blood pressure went up. Included is a veggie patty sandwich, vegetable root chips, and a yogurt.

I went to A.N.A.D. (Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders) tonight. The topic of the meeting was about feeling fat and having poor body image. Was this of divine arrangement because it was totally appropriate for what I'm dealing with? We talked about feeling fat or being obsessed with weight and what the feelings are underneath feeling fat. When did that feeling start? Do these fat feelings coincide with anything going on in therapy or some life event like being reminded twice in one week that you’re not as skinny as you were.

This has got to be the best oatmeal I've ever eaten. I don't know if it's because its organic, but it has something going on with it.

I used Agave syrup in my oatmeal because I heard great things about it. For example, because it's concentrated, you only need a little bit. In addition, it has a low glycemic index so it won't spike your blood sugar. Taste wise, I'll have to try it again. It didn't do anything for my oatmeal.

I’m questioning whether having a little more weight on me is beneficial at all. Physically I felt like sh*t when I was underweight, but I still felt great about myself because I was thin. I was proud of it. I felt safe and had better body image. Now I’m average weight and have no self-esteem and poor body image. It’s a dichotomy.

It’s this part of recovery that has tripped me up so many times. I get to this point of questioning whether recovery will really work for me. I have these constant thoughts about not being happy with my body image or feeling that I would rather restrict or how being super skinny is so much better. I want my thinking to align with my behavior. I want my body image to be great and to stick to my meal plan at the same time. Wishful. Thinking. Maybe it’ all or nothing thinking; if I don’t have the behaviors match the thoughts then I won’t allow myself to have either, the thoughts or behaviors.

I don’t know how to reconcile myself to this. I don’t know how to continually make myself go to meetings and see my treatment team and adhere to my meal plan when my hearts not in it. I'm doing it, but I don't want to hate myself for doing it.

First off, I’m on Formspring now, so if you have anything you want to ask me, big or small, I’ll do my best to answer it. It's a great way to find out more about Missing In Sight.

I read this book to my littles tonight. I was impressed with what Bee said on my comments page about what she does for her littles, including her adolescent parts and it motivated me to do more for my littles. When I read this book for the first time it made me cry. It is such a sweet and nurturing book. I really felt comforted by it.

Tomorrow (Wednesday) I meet with Dietician. I’m terrified she will tell me I gained weight. I’m scared because I feel like I’ve gained weight and that will further increase my thoughts of being a failure. I'm struggling exceptionally with body image and I hate it. When will the struggle be over? Adhering to my meal plan right now is the only measure of success I have. It's the only thing I can track. It's easy to say, "Yes, I've followed my meal plan the last thirty days" but it's not so easy to say I've changed my view of myself for the past thirty day. I guess the behavior comes first and then the thoughts. Kind of like if you start smiling when you're depressed you might feel better. I know I haven't changed my thoughts and that has been making it worse because I am NOT at all happy that I'm being successful at my meal plan.

Speaking of meal plans, here's some of what's been on my plate lately:

This is a packet of instant organic oatmeal and flaxseed with soy milk. It taste almost like rice pudding or tapioca pudding. It's thick but fluffy and so yummy.

A blurry picture of a raisin oat bran muffin chopped up in Oikos honey yogurt, blackberries, and a spoonfull of Almond Butter. I died and went to heaven.

Here, I tangoed with a mango, and the mango won. It's my favorite fruit in the world.

I can measure my progress by how well I stayed with my meal plan. But even those accomplishments are not sitting right with me. I feel angry with myself for following the meal plan; for doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I remember feeling so empowered when I first started with my meal plan. I was confident that I could follow it and somehow learn to love my body.

Homemade vegetarian wrap, orange, and a salad monster. I am the queen of salads.

Fresh strawberries and cocoa almonds. Tastes just like a chocolate covered strawberry. And the company of a good mystery/thriller makes for an even better snack.

But a part of me is definitely rebelling. I hate my body; I hate my meal plan; I hate myself for following said meal plan. How can one be angry with doing what’s right? Well, one can and one does.

Not my favorite meal, and it did follow a food ritual: the foods must not touch and must be eaten in a specific order. Note to self: food rituals DON'T make the calories go away. Tofu, quinoa, asparagus, and an Oikos honey yogurt.

I’m more especially upset that I haven’t been able to exercise as much as I used to for health reasons. For six weeks or so I have been feeling fatigued and dizzy; dizzy to the point of passing out. I can’t work out when I’m exhausted or about to faint on the exercise machine.

Food just tastes better when it's eaten off my Charleston, South Carolina plate. I made this while in residential treatment. I wanted to associate food with my happy place, and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Charleston. I love the history, the culture, the beaches. Did I mention I love it?

I’ve been to my PCP, a cardiologist, my psychiatrist, and a neurologist. No one can provide me with any concrete answers as to why I have these symptoms. It makes me feel hopeless to be dizzy everyday for the past give or take six weeks and not be any closer to finding the reasons behind it. *Sigh*

I realize this post is depressing. I try to keep it positive, but I'm just not in that place right now. I’m not good at asking for what I need, but I’ll try here. I really need words of support and understanding, so if you have something to say, drop me a line.

Peace out.

"Altered" sleeping

I’m a sad, sad moon. I feel like I’m on the outside looking in at myself, watching me from far away. Today has been one big struggle. I'm surprised how the comment at the gym is continuing to plague me. I’m not brooding over yesterday’s comment. I'm not dwelling on what was said to me. I’m not trying to be a drama queen or refuse to let the matter die down. But it has stirred up some ED thoughts that want to suck me back in, have me start restricting, and weigh X amount of pounds. It's just a continual fight. I want to get back to the place where I was starting to feel good about recovery and being proud of myself for my accomplishments.

Alas, I just can’t get happy about anything today. I can’t praise myself for eating according to my plan because I don’t believe that is cause for celebration. Intellectually I know it’s a good thing, but I wish someone would tell it to my heart.

Nevertheless, I did eat what I was supposed to eat.

I love how bright and cheery these colors on the plate are. For lunch it was a Morningstar Garden Veggie patty, avocado, vegetable chips, salad, and pineapple.

And in the salad we have Baby Spring Mix, tomatoes, carrots, spinach, celery, broccoli, and red bell pepper. All topped with a heavy little Italian dressing.

Last night when I was angry at the woman from the gym I received solace from a place I haven’t heard from in a while. I have a part that makes me sleepy when stress gets to be too much, and so last night I could feel her take over and make me sleepy. When I was in residential treatment there were two places in which this member would intervene regularly: during group therapy about s*xual healing and also in Residential Therapist’s office. I have no control over it when it happens, but I’m grateful for it. This “sleepy” member is like an anti-anxiety pill or a muscle relaxer. She soothes me into a dream that is so welcoming and peaceful . She shuts stress out by shutting me down.

Dinner: pizza on English muffins, salad (it's my fave!) and Oikos honey yogurt.

But then there are other times when I feel estranged from my members. For example, the littles seem to be hiding from me. Or maybe it is I who is hiding from them. I don’t know. I’ve put off letting them watch the cartoon version of 101 Dalmatians because I don’t know if I can handle it when they come out. I'm afraid there will be too much switching which will set off my migraines.Tonight I read them a book called Kiss Good Night, but there was no response from the littles or any other member of my system. (Maybe it's because the book was really boring.)

It was as if I read the book to myself; that's how much silence I encountered.

What about you? Do you have any alters that perform what some people would consider “weird” jobs? How do you nurture your littles? Does the presence of your alters ebb and flow?