Ever feel like the instructions for recovery resemble those on a shampoo bottle...?
Half the time you scoff that there are any instructions at all, because it seems like a chimpanzee can do it.. because the way to go about it seems so obvious: Eat, don't throw up...
You, are like someone with insanely long hair, or really soft water... the exception to the rule... the way to go about changing your life is superficially simple, but some how the terminal uniqueness of your situation makes "Lather, Rinse, Repeat" impossible given the complexity of your specific confounding factors... I have a "special" problem... Your commands are meaningless puny human!
Ok, weird analogy, but I cannot say it hasn't felt real the past few weeks...
or has it been months again already?
I am floundering around aimlessly, have returned to purging at full force, as in every time I so much as look at a bathroom... (or a trash can... or a garbage disposal...or a fucking shrub...) I've resolved for days in row now that I was shutting this behavior down! Only to find it cropping up on me halfway through my first cup of coffee... did i add skim milk...? unacceptable... do over tomorrow...
Since I became suddenly uninsured and unemployed without warning over a year ago, I've been forced financially to take my "treatment" into my own hands... and there is truly no one more dangerous than I to entrust with such a lofty task...
I am unstructured, petrified, delusional, anxious mess... Just what I looked for in all my previous helping professionals!
Since I became suddenly uninsured and unemployed without warning over a year ago, I've been forced financially to take my "treatment" into my own hands... and there is truly no one more dangerous than I to entrust with such a lofty task...
I am unstructured, petrified, delusional, anxious mess... Just what I looked for in all my previous helping professionals!
It seems that these days I'm playing my own "treatment team..." You would think that I'd be really quite good at this after working in psychiatric care for so long and having so many "teams" throughout the years... but nope, I am beginning to believe I am fundamentally incapable of self-care...
So here are the many hats I'm currently wearing (that don't quite fit my head...)
I am a psychiatrist. Ta da! (Not really... don't want legal bullshit for impersonating a physician...) As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have a long and complicated relationship with psychiatry...
As if the criteria for mental illnesses wasn't vague enough, the descriptions of the "mechanism of action" for most psych meds is "unknown"... (i.e.no one knows how or why it works, just that it kinda sometimes does...)
I've plowed through various psychiatrists and tried over 35 meds in the past 10 years... then, after my last seizure, stopped taking klonapin because I was having to jump through hoops and suffer crippling withdrawal symptoms to get it... my latest provider prescribed a low dose combo of Prozac, Lamictal, Remeron, and Zyprexa back in November when I was still very underweight... I had been prescribed each med individually before in conjunction with others, but never all 4 together...
Remeron and Zyprexa are both two of the biggest uncontrollable weight-gainer meds in psychiatry... the sad part is that the weight gain is so substantial and so abnormal that no matter how fantastic the emotional effects, people without EDs are inclined to discontinue using both because of the side effects, citing increases depression and anxiety over gaining 30+ lbs in 1-3 mos... Granted I would have been made to gain more if I had to go inpatient again... granted, this gain simply put me in "range" initially, all granted, but still, unamused...
So feeling that I couldn't handle that after a few weeks, I decided to stop everything except some herbs... and unfortunately I severed ties with everyone from whom I obtain the "smoking type"...
So I turn to the insanely overpriced supplement isle... I get Valerian Root, Kava Kava, Skullcap, passionflower, Inosotol, GABA, L-Theanine, L-Tryptophan, 5HTP, Phenibut, Chamomile, B complex...
My boyfriend and I even bought a sonic jewelry cleaner to make mega-doses of liposomal Vitamin C to increase its bioavailability... For the non-nerds, we tried binding high potency Vitamin C crystals with soy lecithin with sound waves to make it absorb better... it tasted like sour milk...
In fact, I've come to refer to most natural supplements as "Foot Pills" because I'm fairly certain that the herbs they are made with grow only in adolescent boys' locker rooms...
So... yeah... I took Benadryl and melatonin to sleep... which worked like a fucking charm... well... if by "charm", you mean "insomnia-cursed-talisman"...
My fanaticism for Buffy the Vampire Slayer is now on the table...
I decided this week that I could no longer abide living in fear and stagnation... (How many times have I decided that? )
So I checked with my former psychiatrist in Austin and arranged a phone consult for tomorrow because I decided to go back to my old medications that she prescribed, keeping the Lamictal from the low-cost clinic on board... Back to Buspar, Zoloft, and Klonopin... Nice safe soothing security blanket prescription... know how it works, that it works, and I can work with it...
Self-medication isn't so bad if you've been legitimately medicated in the same manner by a physician? Right...?
Now lets play Freud... Lie back on my couch...
Then, while I do have a counselor, I've been becoming increasingly frustrated with him for a while... He's no doubt talented, knowledgeable, real, not big on the bullshit... It didn't hurt that he had spent a long time working for a renown ED clinic for years and considered himself an expert on the subject... Up until recently, I did too...
But now he's pumping me for details concerning early childhood sexual trauma that I don't believe happened, at least not if you don't consider 12 "early"... sure, I wasn't emotionally mature, sure I got manipulated here and there, but in the end, I "consented"... and the only (non-sexual) traumas I can recall, the ones I see leaking out into all areas of my life and behavior, he views as "not accepting responsibility"... And I will not fabricate memories to stroke his ego...
so be as frustrated as you like, Dr. Badass, I'm slowly losing faith that you are helping...
So I've begun to undertake a quest for a new therapist as well... I feel bad after the effort this one has put in, and how far I've come under his care... but I feel we are going in circles, and he won't let me escape the loop until we resolve what he wants resolved... So pretty soon, this hamster is getting off the damn wheel...
Then there's the dietician/nutritionist role... one that I, no doubt, have absolutely no business undertaking... for obvious reasons...
Everyone with an eating disorder KNOWS enough about nutrition to do this job, unfortunately everyone with an eating disorder is also completely incapable of APPLYING this knowledge to their lives without supervision and accountability...
A HUGE thing I still struggle with is the concept of needing "permission" to eat... In the past, I obtained this permission from dietician's meal plans, structured meal times, eating with others/under supervision, careful measuring and counting, purging, vowing to exercise, etc.... But undertaking the task of eating outpatient and having no concept of hunger cues, I look to others' appetites to gauge my own... My current boyfriend and those in his immediate family who I am staying with are wonderfully intuitive eaters... Great examples for me to some extent, no plate-cleaning pressure, take time to enjoy food and conversation, and don't get all ass-hurt if you pass on something...
BUT, they are all extremely patient and laid back, and I am SO not... So I often won't eat until they do, keeping a running bite-for-bite tally all day in my head, still trying to ensure that I consume the least... And I don't have that very necessary permission I require until someone else eats... which can put the first meal of the day as late as 9pm, and thats a taboo time anyway, in my mind... So purging almost always follows...
This is why I need a dietician, to identify my limits and prevent undertaking challenges I'm not prepared for, and to help me draw my boundaries when surrounded by people who know how to fucking eat like human beings... There's this overwhelming temptation in these situations to behave as if I'm just like them, cool with (petrifying) foods, appropriately paced, undisturbed by anxiety, enjoying the shit out of the meal, and completely intent on allowing it to digest...
I'm terrified and ashamed to admit that I'm hungry until someone else does... furthermore, I can't bring myself to eat unless my boyfriend joins me... largely so I can compare our portions and pace...
So I'm clearly playing this part horribly... and using the lack of accountability to a twisted end...
So when I get approved for my medicaid this must happen...
Um... did I mention I have no doctor? I have no doctor...
I play that too... Was gonna be one for a while... Didn't trust my discipline or stress tolerance to go there...
In short, none of my current hats fit... While I've spent years caring for others in a mental heath capacity and in other areas of healthcare, self-care is quite another beast altogether...
Its funny that I would prefer to delegate my current lack of ability to master this "self-care" business to others, but I clearly cannot be trusted...
Every day I doubt my ability to overcome this just a little more and a little more, makes me wonder if doing all of this my way is wise... Am I trusting my intuition, or my disorder?
Love and Neurosis,
Little One
So here are the many hats I'm currently wearing (that don't quite fit my head...)
I am a psychiatrist. Ta da! (Not really... don't want legal bullshit for impersonating a physician...) As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have a long and complicated relationship with psychiatry...
As if the criteria for mental illnesses wasn't vague enough, the descriptions of the "mechanism of action" for most psych meds is "unknown"... (i.e.no one knows how or why it works, just that it kinda sometimes does...)
I've plowed through various psychiatrists and tried over 35 meds in the past 10 years... then, after my last seizure, stopped taking klonapin because I was having to jump through hoops and suffer crippling withdrawal symptoms to get it... my latest provider prescribed a low dose combo of Prozac, Lamictal, Remeron, and Zyprexa back in November when I was still very underweight... I had been prescribed each med individually before in conjunction with others, but never all 4 together...
Remeron and Zyprexa are both two of the biggest uncontrollable weight-gainer meds in psychiatry... the sad part is that the weight gain is so substantial and so abnormal that no matter how fantastic the emotional effects, people without EDs are inclined to discontinue using both because of the side effects, citing increases depression and anxiety over gaining 30+ lbs in 1-3 mos... Granted I would have been made to gain more if I had to go inpatient again... granted, this gain simply put me in "range" initially, all granted, but still, unamused...
So feeling that I couldn't handle that after a few weeks, I decided to stop everything except some herbs... and unfortunately I severed ties with everyone from whom I obtain the "smoking type"...
So I turn to the insanely overpriced supplement isle... I get Valerian Root, Kava Kava, Skullcap, passionflower, Inosotol, GABA, L-Theanine, L-Tryptophan, 5HTP, Phenibut, Chamomile, B complex...
My boyfriend and I even bought a sonic jewelry cleaner to make mega-doses of liposomal Vitamin C to increase its bioavailability... For the non-nerds, we tried binding high potency Vitamin C crystals with soy lecithin with sound waves to make it absorb better... it tasted like sour milk...
In fact, I've come to refer to most natural supplements as "Foot Pills" because I'm fairly certain that the herbs they are made with grow only in adolescent boys' locker rooms...
So... yeah... I took Benadryl and melatonin to sleep... which worked like a fucking charm... well... if by "charm", you mean "insomnia-cursed-talisman"...
My fanaticism for Buffy the Vampire Slayer is now on the table...
I decided this week that I could no longer abide living in fear and stagnation... (How many times have I decided that? )
So I checked with my former psychiatrist in Austin and arranged a phone consult for tomorrow because I decided to go back to my old medications that she prescribed, keeping the Lamictal from the low-cost clinic on board... Back to Buspar, Zoloft, and Klonopin... Nice safe soothing security blanket prescription... know how it works, that it works, and I can work with it...
Self-medication isn't so bad if you've been legitimately medicated in the same manner by a physician? Right...?
Now lets play Freud... Lie back on my couch...
Then, while I do have a counselor, I've been becoming increasingly frustrated with him for a while... He's no doubt talented, knowledgeable, real, not big on the bullshit... It didn't hurt that he had spent a long time working for a renown ED clinic for years and considered himself an expert on the subject... Up until recently, I did too...
But now he's pumping me for details concerning early childhood sexual trauma that I don't believe happened, at least not if you don't consider 12 "early"... sure, I wasn't emotionally mature, sure I got manipulated here and there, but in the end, I "consented"... and the only (non-sexual) traumas I can recall, the ones I see leaking out into all areas of my life and behavior, he views as "not accepting responsibility"... And I will not fabricate memories to stroke his ego...
so be as frustrated as you like, Dr. Badass, I'm slowly losing faith that you are helping...
So I've begun to undertake a quest for a new therapist as well... I feel bad after the effort this one has put in, and how far I've come under his care... but I feel we are going in circles, and he won't let me escape the loop until we resolve what he wants resolved... So pretty soon, this hamster is getting off the damn wheel...
Then there's the dietician/nutritionist role... one that I, no doubt, have absolutely no business undertaking... for obvious reasons...
Everyone with an eating disorder KNOWS enough about nutrition to do this job, unfortunately everyone with an eating disorder is also completely incapable of APPLYING this knowledge to their lives without supervision and accountability...
A HUGE thing I still struggle with is the concept of needing "permission" to eat... In the past, I obtained this permission from dietician's meal plans, structured meal times, eating with others/under supervision, careful measuring and counting, purging, vowing to exercise, etc.... But undertaking the task of eating outpatient and having no concept of hunger cues, I look to others' appetites to gauge my own... My current boyfriend and those in his immediate family who I am staying with are wonderfully intuitive eaters... Great examples for me to some extent, no plate-cleaning pressure, take time to enjoy food and conversation, and don't get all ass-hurt if you pass on something...
BUT, they are all extremely patient and laid back, and I am SO not... So I often won't eat until they do, keeping a running bite-for-bite tally all day in my head, still trying to ensure that I consume the least... And I don't have that very necessary permission I require until someone else eats... which can put the first meal of the day as late as 9pm, and thats a taboo time anyway, in my mind... So purging almost always follows...
This is why I need a dietician, to identify my limits and prevent undertaking challenges I'm not prepared for, and to help me draw my boundaries when surrounded by people who know how to fucking eat like human beings... There's this overwhelming temptation in these situations to behave as if I'm just like them, cool with (petrifying) foods, appropriately paced, undisturbed by anxiety, enjoying the shit out of the meal, and completely intent on allowing it to digest...
I'm terrified and ashamed to admit that I'm hungry until someone else does... furthermore, I can't bring myself to eat unless my boyfriend joins me... largely so I can compare our portions and pace...
So I'm clearly playing this part horribly... and using the lack of accountability to a twisted end...
So when I get approved for my medicaid this must happen...
Um... did I mention I have no doctor? I have no doctor...
I play that too... Was gonna be one for a while... Didn't trust my discipline or stress tolerance to go there...
In short, none of my current hats fit... While I've spent years caring for others in a mental heath capacity and in other areas of healthcare, self-care is quite another beast altogether...
Its funny that I would prefer to delegate my current lack of ability to master this "self-care" business to others, but I clearly cannot be trusted...
Every day I doubt my ability to overcome this just a little more and a little more, makes me wonder if doing all of this my way is wise... Am I trusting my intuition, or my disorder?
Love and Neurosis,
Little One
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