13.5.12

i don't remember the first time i felt unbeautiful, the day i chose not to eat

It's funny the impact just eating has on me. It's a natural human process. It's something we have to do to survive. And yet, it's something that I struggle with and that tears me apart.

I had a good dinner tonight. Best I've had in quite awhile. And because of that, I'm still awake even though it's 2 am. My brain won't be quiet. Lord knows it's a good thing I ate as my weight is the lowest it's been in years. Lord knows I need the calories and nutrients.  But it's difficult.

I know I've lost weight lately. I know I should care more about getting food into my system. But it's difficult to muster up the willingness to care. It's difficult to get food into me. I don't know what I'm going to have to do to get myself to eat. It's terrifying, really, the way this disorder, this sickness controls me.

I don't want to be this way, but I don't know how to be any other. And frankly, to cross to the other side is terrifying. To recover. To be healed. To be whole. It's kind of a paradox because I don't want to get better yet I want to. I want to yet I don't now how. What if I don't like being healthy? What if I gain too much weight? What if I flip to the other extreme and start eating too much?

And now it's approaching 3. And I still can't sleep. And it's taken me THIS long to write this short of an entry. But why? I don't want to finally meet the diagnostic criteria for anorexia, because on one hand while I feel ED-NOS is "not legit", I know it is. I know that you don't have to be severely underweight to die or have serious health effects from an eating disorder.

But at the same thing... it's kind of like a verse in the Bible. "The things I don't want to do I do, the things I want to do I don't." It just feels that I get trapped. Completely Trapped.

And  I don't now what to do. It's hard because I'm having a bad PTSD night. It's well after 3 am, everyone is asleep. Everyone, that is, but me. Because I'm scared to sleep. Because I'm afraid of what will happen if I sleep. Because being scared to sleep as a child is still ingrained in me. because I'm still at my core, terrified.


3 replies ^_^:

Steph said...

Sounds like what I was going through before surgery. I wanted so badly to be healed, but that meant going into the unknown, away from what I'd known for 10 years. I hated being in pain and having the rib hump but I didn't understand life without it. Plus there were the old memories that scoliosis drew up that made me hate myself more, for not doing anything about it sooner (I truly felt embarrassed at the consultation appointment, telling the doctor I waited 10 years), and for letting other stupid things get to me.

Yeah, it's pretty scary, not knowing what the other side looks like. Even though you know it's better than the side you're on, it's still intimidating as all hell. You just have to find a way to commit to going forth with it, and getting the little voice in your head to shut up long enough to let you move forward with healing. (I was silently yelling at the little voice in my head to shut up right up until they wheeled me to the OR. And then I was knocked out before the little voice had a chance to start up again. ^_^)

Hang tough, my friend! You can do it, I know you can!

Hannah Amundson said...

Holy crap Nora!

I had no idea you struggled with eating and PTSD. I'll be sure to pray for you!

And we should plan to hang out sometime soon! Due to both of our transportation limitations, it seems wise that we involve a third party. lol I have a friend named Becca, she is a great person, sound in the faith and she's my mentor-ish friend! We should plan to get together sometime soon!

Nora the Explorer said...

Sorry, I juuuuuuuuust now saw this reply. Failsauce. That would be wonderful to get together with you and Becca! =)

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