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  1. I know the title sounds a little silly but let me explain (buckle up this is going to be a long one) As a person that has struggled with heavy eating disorder tendencies for over 6 years now, you would think that I would have this all figured out by now... But that just isn't the case. It kinda just crept up on me when I was 10 and it never went away. I can't exactly pin how it started or why (otherwise it would be easier to treat it. Go figure) however, I never actively thought, "I want to skip meals and be thin". It just became a habit, one that I just can't break despite my best efforts. Its not that I don't want people to know because I dont want them to stop me, its mostly because I'm ashamed that my life has come to this. I am a very happy person that is friends with everyone and just wants the best for people. I just don't want this to change the way they see me. Such a strong and nice person being controlled by some thing so awful. Besides, there is a lot going on in my home life anyway and I dont want to add this on top of it all. I know a lot of people say that "biology eventually rules out" and "you're setting yourself up for a binge the more you don't eat" I wish it were like that for me. I don't even have to think about it and I end up not eating for at least 3 days to sometimes a week at a time. And the few times that I do eat I just end up throwing it up anyway. Everything just feels so dull and repetitive that I don't even notice. I actively try to eat. But I keep falling back into the same behavior I don't want to die but I don't want to keep living this way. What should I do?
  2. Hi everyone, I just wanted to pass on a tip from my therapist. I was starting to fall into anorexic remission, when they suggested trying microwaveable meals. They have small portions and almost always have all the components you need for a proper diet. This may be old news to some, but as somebody who has lived most of their lives without a microwave, this was inspiration. It is great not only because the portions are easy to get through, but you can also have food (almost) instantaneously. So when you feel a weak pang of hunger, you can pop some food into your face in about 2 minutes, encouraging your mind to listen to your body's queues. Hope this helps somebody get back on track! Poem
  3. So, it's been awhile - i've been away from the boards for quite awhile, hiding out, going inpatient, getting fired, moving, blah blah blah... Two days ago, i started purging again. After Two. Fucking. Years. I've been stressed out. Two jobs - by day, i'm caregiver to a schizophrenic teenager - at night, i bartend fulltime. This week will be my last week bartending full-time; my caregiving job is going full-time, so i'm going to one night a week slinging booze, which is a huge relief. You'd THINK this would be a huge relief, and it is. But, i've gained about 20 lbs due to meds changes. Now, i've gone back on the meds that make me lose weight, which is good - but it's still early on and i'm a former dancer, and extremely controlling about my weight. And, let's face it - i'm a sick little puppy. SO, i started purging. Not even BINGEING and purging, necessarily, although that happens, too. And the bitch of it is, to control the urge to binge, i swing over into the anorexia side of the spectrum, where eating anything at all makes me feel sick. I'm nauseous all the time, the scale is slowwwwwly,ever so slowly going down, but not fast enough (it's NEVER fast enough is it?). The craziest part is, i'm not even close to being overweight. My bf loves the fact that i have curves now. I just feel gross. And speaking of boyfriends, there are issues there, too, which i know are triggering me...but i don't want to get into that, having just blogged about it here. Anyway, i'm scared, because i've already spent thousands of dollars on repairing my teeth from previous years of damage done to my teeth, and i don't want to be going down this road. Not to mention the damage i've done to my stomach. I have an autoimmune illness, as well. I cannot afford to be doing this to myself, but i can't seem to stop. Today, i can't seem to eat at all - i've tried, but putting food in my mouth makes me sick. It's a vicious circle. I can't believe i'm back here, after two years of being done with all of this. I guess it's like being an addict - your'e never really done with it. I guess i feel better just spewing, so to speak, about it all here. Thanks for reading, anyway.
  4. About seven years ago I was diagnosed as anorexic along with other things. The meds I was given made me gain weight (which still makes me freak out sometimes). Anyway, of late I have just been off my feed, so to speak. Food doesn't taste good. I have a nutrional drink (nutribreakfast I think) in the am, maybe a yogurt cup in the afternoon, and a small serving of dinner. The only things that taste good are lemonade and pizza. Most of the time I just drink fluids. I know when I was first recovering, everything tasted so intense, so new. Maybe my current meds are affecting my taste. I could go a whole day without eating and not care. I just don't want to fall into bad habits again. Thanks.
  5. I so need some advice on this. My pdoc and tdoc are very aware that I have anorexia. It's been in remission for about a year+. They know I'm struggling. I just want opinions of people who KNOW how this feels. I saw on my dr chart that I have a 28 BMI based on that chart. I'm aware I'm not thin, but I know I'm not obese. I've been able to keep the weight in perspective for a long time, but I feel myself slipping. I've even lost weight recently, in a healthy manner. Some of my disabilities make it hard: legally blind (use a cane), fibromyalgia, chronic pain and a spine full of herniated discs/pinched nerves/moderate arthritis. I'm 42. I know my anorexia contributed to alot of that. I can feel the evil anorexia voices getting louder (not out loud, y'all know what I mean). I'm finding it hard not to self harm over it. My Drs know that, too. I feel like a tub of lard. I'm becoming really anxious and upset if I can't weigh myself a few times a day. I am struggling. Any ideas? Thanks.
  6. I've been in recovery for my anorexia for 1yr+. I gained a LOT of weight in that time, but have taken half off in a healthy way. Still, my BMI is showing 28. Not pleased. I've been fighting to stay in remission. My pdoc and tdoc are in on all of this. I just need some opinions, please. My sister had plastic surgery 2wks ago. She didn't tell me about it until it was over. She was afraid my anorexia would come out of remission. But, she's sort of my caregiver, as I'm blind and need rides to stuff. She had to tell me. And it's triggering me. I'm fine with all of it except the lipo. I feel so disgustingly fat now. I've been anorexic for 28yrs and it's always a struggle. I get that. This is the struggle that might beat me I'm afraid. I'm hyper focused on my weight/BMI. I can FEEL my fat move even if I'm laying down flat. I just feel it like its huge weights falling into me. It's the feeling that really isn't there, but you feel it with this damn disease. I'm struggling not to start the self harm back. I feel disgusting and worthless. All signs of coming out of remission. I've got so many health problems, I can't afford it to come back. WHY is her lipo driving me to hate myself even more? I've never been this way with her. How has this surgery on some other person wrecking havoc on my mentality? Any ideas of opinions? Thanks
  7. ** Please do not read this if you are easily triggered. I go into graphic detail about my past, as there is a lot I need to get off my chest anonymously. However, caveat lector. ** Hello! I go by the name Hellbent. I'm 18, and live in the British Isles. I have a long and storiaed history of mental quirks and quiddities. I taught myself to read at tewo from reading the captions underneath pictures in my grandfather's newspapers, and from reading food packaging. I was diagnosed with high-functioning autism at 5 or 6, and declared a "gifted and talented child". I'm uncertain whether the "gifted and talented" diagnosis still exists, or whether it ever meant anything at all. I was offered a scholarship to a prestigious educational institute for the gifted and talented in the Western Isles, but my mother held me back because "my emotional development would never catch up with my intellectual development". The institute in question mostly catered for teenagers, and my mother feared that I may have been bullied. I resent that greatly. If I had been sent there, I would have escaped the living hell that my mother put me through. Although I was originally diagnosed with "high-functioning" autism, my IQ testing well over 100, my behaviour as I slowly, slowly grew up would certainly have landed me in the "classical autism" group had my child psychiatrists been around to see it. (I spent a lot of time as a child playing cruel games with my child psychiatrists!) There were holires in the plasterboard walls of the house where I grew up because I'd throw myself against them repeatedly at the slightest inkling of frustration or sadness. Indeed, I don't believe I ever felt any emotion but frustration until my preteens - when my grandfather died, confined to a nursing home after a life of undiagnosed PTSD from fighting in the Pacific Theatre and depression resulting from a series of disabling strokes and TIAs, in and out of the local mental hospital in which I would later spend time, I felt more empathetic frustration for him, having been trapped in a dark, stinking, crude environment for almost a year, most likely the home's only inmate with an intact mind, than I did sadness. I feel strong empathy, but I am almost unable to feel sympathy. In a poem whose name I cannot remember, the Scottish poet Norman MacCaig talks of "the distance of pain which nothing can overcome". In that line, MacCaig expresses his frustration that he cannot share in his dying wife's pain. I am that nothing - I feel very acutely the pain of others. I felt everything that my grandfather went through, from his horror of a pot lid rattling - my synaesthesia brought on tehe exact same imagery of gunfire that I am certain must have occurred to him - to his unspeakable despair at his confinement to a nursing home. Thus, I felt no true sadness when he died, but, rather, an intense echo of his lifelong frustration at his inability to function. He had been an actuary before he had been conscripted - he taught me to multiply and dievide on an abacus when I was 6 or 7, and many, many arithmetic shortcuts - but, as far as I know, he never could hold down work after the war. Until the ages of 11 or 12, I never felt any emotion of my own, only empathetic feelings from others, except for frustration. I first experienced psychosis at around 9 or 10. I heard my aunt's voice calling my name repeatedly, as if from the sky. She wasn't so much as in the house at all. I ascribed it to angels, and became obsessed with angels. I was intended to be raised a Catholic, but after my parents' divorce my mother tried to get me into the Free Church of Scotland Continuing - which I had no time for. I found their cadence to be dour, inhuman, and deathly sexless. I collected holy cards obsessively. I was especially fascinated by St. Christina Mirabilis and by St. Sebastian, and I had quite a few of them. I ordered them from the Internet. At 11, menarche hit, and, in a fit (that word will occur again in quite a different context) of confusion eerily echoing what was later to be one of my favourite films (guess?), I believed that, for it to have come about quite so early, it must be a sign of something. I came to believe that I was St. Margaret of Cortona. I cut the word "Cortona" into my chest with my grandfather's whittling knife, and came quite close to slashing up my genitalia on several occasions. I tried, thankfully fruitlessly (funny choice of word!), to find one of those extremist Islamist doctors who carry out infibulations. Later that year, I came across a website dedicated to a - clearly somehow mentally ill - Internet artist and unintentional celebrity. Years earlier, she'd posted an innocent picture of herself on a forum, not realising how obsessive the denizens of that forum had been. They tracked down her Livejournal, where she had posted page after page of conceptual photography, some explicit. The website I'm now discussing sprung up as a place of veneration for this unfortunate girl. The website kicked off my first phase of serious self-injury, as the girl being so intensely deified had been a heavy self-injurer, and many of the posters on this website encouraged self-injury. I was a believer in mortification of the flesh, and I did some quite unmentionable things in pursuit of paying tribute to the girl I too came to worship. The website closed down a couple rof yearrs later, but a similar, although far less extreme, site survives, and I was a regular poster there until recently. I would dress up in the vogue of the "goddess"'s most famous pictures on group video chat. The worst phase of my cult membership, for it was indeed a cult, was the time I covered my school uniform in menstrual blood, smeared it across my face, and wrote the address of the website all over my school in it. That incident led to my first non-PDD diagnosis: psychotic depression. I was put on fluoxetine, which quite possibly explains what happened next. The next notable incident in the development of my health occurred, again, at the tail end of my eleventh year. Quite possibly my worst year to date. I had what I now recognise as a manic episode, and adopted an alternate identity. I developed a fixation on an anime cartoon, and spent all of my time on a website dedicated to it, mainly populated by older men. Being hypersexual (indeed, I am constantly hypersexual, even when depressed; I am beginning to believe that I am a clinical nymphomaniac) and a raging teleiophile, I attempted to proposition many of them, addressing them using my adopted identity. Said identity developed into a full-blown manic personality. I became somewhat bisexual, but in a very bizarre way: I was attracted to very, very young girls, and to far older men. These days, I've settled down into simply heterosexual attraction to moderately older men, but those days were wild. I never looked at porn, oddly enough - I gave it a try, but found it all too synthetic and silly - but I constantly fantasised about things I don't feel that I can mention. In the real world, I insisted on being addressed by my alternate name, and acted incredibly callously and antisocially. I became obsessed with computers, built one, and then began to collect them. My room was small, so I could barely move for all the computer rubbish. My mother indulged my eccentricity at first, but later began to lose her temper with my Victorian style of dress, borderline-hoarding, and use of gamers' language in Blakean syntax, and took me to a chiropractor, who "prescribed" multivitamins. By 12, the cycling induced by the fluoxetine had thrown me into a depression. I had had suicidal thoughts since 8 or 9, but first acted on them at 12. I put the Manics' song "Die in the Summertime" on repeat and attempted to slit my wrists with the same knife I'd pulled the "Cortona" nonsense with. Thankfully, I think I only hit a bunch of capillaries, and I managed to stem the bleeding in about seven hours once I realised it wasn't going to work. My mother let it slide, but I was bullied at school. I'd already been bullied at school for my meltdowns, but it worsened so, so much when my classmates noticed the cuts on my wrists. From 13 to 14, my mental health improved greatly. I was taken off the fluoxetine, shook off the manic alternate personality, and excelled at school. I passed my Intermediate 2s with seven As, and two Highers with an A and, er, a C. I was invited to an Advanced Higher English course, and accepted, but had to drop out before I began my dissertation - it was to be on Irish vs. Scottish black humour in literature, comparing MacCaig's poetry and The House with the Green Shutters with The Third Policeman and After the Wake - because my aunt, who mostly brought me up and whom I loved dearly, developed throat cancer, and I couldn't focus on writing when I could feel the agony that my aunt was going through. In late 2010, I began to believe that I was beginning to look old, and that I needed to look younger to find a re al boyfriend, so I stopped eating for days on end. In 2011 this worsened. In January 2011 I was almost 9st; in July 2011 I was close to 4st. I was hospitalised with multiple organ failure, and diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. In September I was sent to residential inpatient, where I spent one day short of a year. Being a CAMHS unit, it was dire; I would far rather have been sent to an adult mental hospital. My fellow inpatients competed with one another constantly to be the sickest. At one point, I lost my temper with one girl to the extent that I punched her in the face and slapped her against a wall. The incident was recorded on CCTV, and, had I not been so underweight, I would have been expelled from the unit. I was NG fed for some time. My more recent mental illness experiences are a little too raw yet to be spoken of in public, and, besides, I've rambled on long enough. My final major diagnoses were occipital lobe epilepsy - I had what I now recognise as partial seizures, many, many migraines, and a couple of possible tonic-clonics as a child, but was only given an EEG at 16, and had a tonic-clonic during the strobe test, and subsequently had several MRIs which confirmed brain damage and epilepsy - and schizoaffective bipolar disorder at 17, which I doubted at first, believing myself to be borderline, but, after some research into the topic, found that it fit (hah) perfectly. I hope that I'll fit (there I go with that same pun again) in here alright.
  8. Well.... I found this site by searching "self harm kits", I just wanted to know what other people did, if it was common for people to carry around supplies with them or whatever. So now I'm here, reading about other people and their struggles. Relating and not relating, though still understanding. I think that maybe if I have an actual place to talk, a real place that I can have feedback on, then maybe I'll be able to resist hurting myself. Okay so actual info part: My name is Shane. I'm listed as agender on here but a more accurate term would be agender/transmasculine. I use He/Him pronouns but they/them is also okay. I'm 19, I'll be turning 20 in December. I've been dealing with self harm problems and MI for almost 8 years now. I'm also trans so that doesn't exactly help me in any way... Anyways, from the beginning now. In 6th grade I became friends with someone who is my best friend. At the time, he was self harming and I guess that's where I had gotten the idea to do it to myself but I don't blame him or anything, it's not his fault that I started to do the same thing. Though not as intense as him, he was actually cutting and giving himself eraser burns, I was doing no-bleed scratches with a bent paperclip. At the time, I didn't really understand why it helped, but it did. Sometime in junior high I tried to tell my mother that I was depressed and had been for a few years. I had scoured websites, taken quizzes, doubted I was mentally ill, retook quizzes, looked up symptoms. Everything was the same. I was depressed and I didn't want to feel this way. So I tried to tell my mom, she didn't think the same thing. She didn't think I had any reason to be depressed. Which of course made me feel worse because I knew there was no emotional/situational reason for me to be depressed, I just was and I couldn't stop it. So I continued to self harm. There were a few times when my mom had confronted me about the scratches on my arm and even a time when I had a huge bleeding scratch down my arm. (all in 8th grade). It wasn't until 11th grade that my mom actually took me in to see a doctor. I had to check off a list to see if I was actually depressed and I was prescribed medication (Fluoxetine and Xanax), it helped but not for long. Eventually it stopped working, so I stopped taking it (I know, I know). I again tried to tell my mom that the meds weren't working anymore. She just thought I wasn't taking them, of course I wasn't but they weren't working long before that. This last February (2015), I didn't quite try to kill myself. I was in college by then (second semester). I was in a campus library, downstairs, in an area I knew people didn't walk around a lot. I found myself a spot and had decided to take the bottle. I didn't. I was scared it wouldn't work, so anxiety took over and stopped me. I went home that night and cried in my mom's arms. I told her that I was scared and that I needed to be admitted. She was very hesitant to take me in. So I was in a mental hospital for about 2 weeks.I am now taking duloxetine and klonopin and trazodone. I attempted to kill myself by overdosing on trazodone a few months afterwards. My girlfriend forced me to throw them up. I still self harm. I don't think my meds are working anymore. So anyways. That's my story. Thanks for reading. 12 yrs - 17 yrs: sx- Depression, GAD 17 yrs - 19 yrs: Depression, Anxiety, sx-BPD 19 yrs - now: Depression, Panic Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder Also, on and off anorexia that hasn't be professionally diagnosed.... idk, I go through periods of not eating at all to completely binging myself out on food.
  9. I've been in remission for a few months now, but recently I've fallen quickly into a total relapse: where I'm doing ALL the behaviours I was doing when my ED was at its worst originally, the excessive exercise and the extreme restriction. I think it's because the stress and anxiety I'm feeling has built up so much that I've displaced it all onto food, I'm not really sure. But how has anyone on here ever dealt with a full blown relapse? I don't want to end up back where I was. I want to try to pull myself out before it gets TOO bad. Where do I start though: the behaviours or the thoughts?
  10. I had to abruptly end Intensive Outpatient (previously in partial hospitalization) 3 months ago. I was doing alright (never underweight, but lost very fast which put strain on my heart), but now ANA is back. I had an incident this weekend that I purged out of nowhere. Dr. wanted me to contact him if my weight fell to a certain point, it went under and after the incident I called yesterday. He called me back and told me I need to seek treatment right away and I could die. I am not underweight, but I am restricting. Right now I know this is a problem, but I don't see that it is that serious. I have no intention of losing more, but I can't get myself to eat more/exercise less. Many say that I am in denial. I don't see how I could die if I'm not underweight.
  11. What has your experience been with Latuda and other AP's on your weight? Everything I've read about and been told says Latuda's supposedly weight neutral; however, I know that all AP's increase blood sugar, and this leads to weight gain. I've been on 80mg of Latuda for a year now, and I've gained a little over 5 lbs, which is not a lot, but there's more to it, read on. Prior to starting the Latuda I had a brief stint on Risperdol, but it increased my Prolactin levels and made me stop getting my period, so I had to go off it. I didn't notice any changes in my weight on Risperdol. Before that I was on Clozaril for about 6 months and gained 30lbs. It was a last resort. I had tried everything else( including risperdol and latuda neither of which worked prior to the Clozaril) and had treatment resistant auditory hallucinations for 5 years. I figured I would lose some of the weight from the Clozaril when I started the Latuda, since most of my weight gain was from medication.I am in recovery from anorexia ( starting when I began the Clozaril) and the only way I agreed to take Clozaril was if they gave me Metformin. They only gave me 500mg of Metformin, which isn't enough to really help with weight loss, but I didn't know that at the time. I wasn't as concerned about food or my body but hadn't increased my caloric intake that much and was still only eating once a day. I continued to exercise moderately and still do. Given my small amount of food intake and exercise, I should have lost weight weight when I discontinued the Clozaril because that's what made me gain mostly and at a very rapid pace. Instead I have maintained all that weight and managed to gain even more weight on the Latuda. I don't think Latuda is as weight neutral as they claim. I know I would weigh less if I didn't take it or if I reduced my dose. I don't want to become anorexic again, but I don't want to gain anymore weight either. I discussed my concerns with doctor, and she prescribed me Metformin again after a 45 minute discussion. She's not pleased about the Metformin and was upset about my once a day eating regime. I had to agree to eat 3 small protein based meals a day, and she advised me to avoid sugar. She only prescribed the Metformin because she doesn't want me to reduce my Latuda or go off it because I'm doing so well. Has anyone else experienced weight gain on Latuda? Even a small amount? How has it affected your weight? I've always seemed to gain weight on the supposedly weight neutral AP's. I gained a ton of weight on Abilify (when I took it before I was psychotic, took it again after I was psychotic but cut my dose down to a tiny amount) and gained weight on Geodon. My doctor told me the other day that Abilify and Geodon aren't weight neutral. Anyone else gain weight on these? Which meds have caused weight gain? I was anorexic and weighed 93lbs when I started the Clozaril. Normally I never would have taken a med that caused so much weight gain, but I was in an excellent hospital seeking help mainly for my depression. I wasn't looking for help with my eating disorder, and considering I had tried nearly every med possible with no relief, I didn't think they'd be able to make the voices go away.They were determined to treat all my syptoms at once- the psychosis, anorexia, and depression. Normally I avoided AP's that caused weight gain. Zyprexa was my worst nightmare, but I had tried it. I didn't really gain weight on it, but I wasn't on it long and it didn't work. I would try AP's, but if they caused the slightest bit of weight gain I either went off them or reduced the dose ( with or without my doctor's permission). I respected the doctors in this hospital and probably would not have been willing to try Clozaril anywhere else. They told me that I had to gain weight in order to get better and for some reason, I listened to them when I had ignored everyone else. the anorexia became really bad when I was 29 and got into recovery from substance abuse. I've been to inpatient treatment for ED's twice and had seen numerous specialists. Plus that's the field that I pursued for my academics and professional work, so I knew all about it. I hated the Clozaril because of all the side effects, which is why I came off it. I prefer Latuda and am able to cope with it's side effects by taking other meds to counter act them. I'm glad the Latuda works to control my auditory hallucinations now, but I think that ECT and the Namenda play a big role in that too. As much as I'd love to come off an AP, I'm scared to mess with my current meds. I don't want the psychosis to come back. I doing so well now. But it's really hard to go from 93lbs to what I weigh now. I'm more than 35lbs heavier. I'm 5'4, so my BMI is still in the normal range, but I don't want to become overweight. I've weighed a little bit more before ( when I was 29 and on Abilify,before I got into recovery from substance abuse) and my horror at being so heavy triggered a massive slide into severe anorexia. What do you do to cope with weight gain from meds? In your experience what is the med that caused the least and most weight gain? I know it varies from person to person. Anyone else prescribed Metformin to help with AP weight gain? Do you think the benefits of AP"s are greater than gaining some weight? Have you ever reduced your dose to lose weight? Would love to hear your stories.
  12. This morning I went to my daily IOP where I had to fill out a daily report card for how I had done during the 24-hours since leaving IOP and it was not a pretty report card either. In the past 24-hours I have purged, cut, and anorexia is in control of my eating; let’s just say I wasn’t looking forward to having to turn in my report card especially since my therapist was running this morning’s IOP session. Part of the IOP sessions are what they call mindfulness exercises; exercises designed to help you get back to center and slow your mind down so you can deal with whatever is going on around you. So far they have not been helpful as I have not yet been able to slow my mind down enough long enough to focus on the exercise. However, sometimes it takes something little like a Life Savers candy to make you realize how out of control things have gotten; or more appropriately just how out of control you eating disorder is. For one of the mindfulness exercises a bag of Life Savers was passed around the table with everyone being instructed to take two Life Savers and to be sure they kept one for the exercise. When the bag came around to me, I took it and instinctively checked the nutritional information printed on the bag; serving size – 4 candies, calories per serving XX. This of course means each candy has XX/4 calories in it, which in the grand scheme of the universe is nothing, but…I found myself in an internal debate with myself about those XX calories (which represented the first calories I would have consumed today). I will admit the smell of the candy was enticing and for a moment, I considered eating the candy and my anorexia could go to hell. That was just one of many thoughts that went through my mind but it was not the thought that won out in the end. When it came time for the exercise we were instructed to take the candy, hold it in our hands, feel the candy, the raised lettering on the candy, and then to put the candy in our mouth. That was where the exercise ended for me; the internal debate with myself resumed and in the end anorexia won when I tossed the candy into the trashcan. I’m not sure which I’m more upset with, myself, my anorexia, or the therapist for having a mindfulness exercise that involved food…guess I’m upset with all the above for various reasons. Sometimes it only takes something as small as one piece of Life Savers candies with XX calories to make you realize how bad your eating disorder is. Since I could not bring myself to eat that piece of candy, it tells me my ED is the one currently in control… I've been able to live with my anorexia in remission for a long time, so I know I can get back to that; it's just so f'ing hard sometimes and this only helped show how far I still have to go
  13. Hey, I've been trying to recover from anorexia for several years now post hospitalisation and day-centre treatment. In the past few months I was discharged from the eating disorder OP service so I don't have any specialist help for the first time in 7 years. I currently have EDNOS/anorexia binge-purge, and am at a supposedly healthy weight but I struggle massively with accepting this as being good, the drive in my head is still strongly anorexic. My mum (who I live with) is unhealthily overweight/obese, and is on weightwatchers (again) - but she's being really obvious about it, all the "logging" exercise and foods, points etc., yet criticising my supposedly obsessive food diaries....and she's started to comment on my eating (proportions of food groups, healthier alternatives). I feel trapped as in the past she has had to sacrifice her own health in order not to trigger me...but now I'm all seemingly better, eating much more flexibly I guess it seems that I'm fine with it. We've had conversations where she has said that it is partly my responsibility that she is unhealthy and is as much physical danger as I am (at the opposite end of the scale when I was at my worst)...so I feel I have to do everything to support her this time round otherwise it would be my fault if she died. So I've helped her join my gym, I congratulate her when she doesn't eat something unhealthy or she goes to a class or eats a healthy meal... When inside it's just making the one voice that is actually inside my head (I have a couple outside of my head - but that's a whole other story!) say that I'm not even doing weightwatchers properly, something I should be good at (given I had severe anorexia for 4 years). Ultimately...I just feel that now I look "healthy" (to me, FAT) and behave more normally around food/don't make all the comments that I'm thinking, there's this expectation from everyone that things are okay and they can say anything. It just encourages my secretive purging which is bad at the moment; and also my guilt for eating in front of people (something I've got better at). Sorry for the essay...I just hate that if I look healthy on the outside it doesn't seem to matter how I feel on the inside. NB. I find it very hard to not fake liveliness and positivity, so it's rare that I'll act how I feel...the voices I experience do not accept showing weakness. Does anyone else have experience of this? How is it best to cope with it? I can't say "can you stop weightwatchers" because I've done that in the past and her ill health has become my fault. L
  14. My name is Lux, and I am a 23-year-old force of nature. I make money as a bike messenger and freelance reporter. In my spare time, I like to write fiction, dabble in photography, and watch quality films. I have been in psychiatric treatment since I was 14. I have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, anorexia, bulimia, alcohol addiction (recovered), and a dissociative disorder. I have been on nearly every psychotropic drug there is (quite literally). I have been in mental hospitals and eating disorders hospitals about six or seven times. I currently just got out of a six-week stay at an eating disorders facility. This time, I am truly very motivated to get better and working hard at it, although it is a struggle. http://www.crazyboards.org/forums/index.php?/gallery/image/6533-there-goes-my-soul-again/ http://www.crazyboards.org/forums/index.php?/gallery/image/6535-image/ http://www.crazyboards.org/forums/index.php?/gallery/image/6534-dolled-up/
  15. I've been in recovery for anorexia/bulimia for a month now. I didn't have some glamorous story, I didn't almost die, nothing like that. I was just a teenager who got caught. I was doing really well recovering, until I found the scale again... I've lost three pounds in a week. The worst part is, everyone thinks I'm still recovering. I have to see my nutritional therapist this week and she will weigh me.. This stuff is scary. I also have lots of OCD tendencies. Can I hear other people stories? My height is 5'8 I was at 100. Then I got up to 108 and now I'm back down to 105. Have an awesome day, hope everyone is well
  16. Hey everyone. I am a diagnosed bulimic and I have major issues with binge eating. For my 5'4" frame, being over 160 lbs is torture due to my anorexic past of being underweight. Anyways, I realized I couldn't live like this anymore and just started doing the day intensive treatment program at the Renfrew Center in the US. Has anyone been to an ED treatment center? Did it help? I'm having issues sticking to my meal plan and not binging horribly at night, mainly due to my fear of going to bed on an empty stomach and insomnia-like tendencies. Anyways I started mid-week last week and would like any input from you all!
  17. Hey everyone. I'm Nikki, I'm somewhere between a struggling and recovering anorexic. I found this site today and realized I'm not the only one who's "crazy" I feel really crazy sometimes. If anyone has stories that they feel like sharing, message me Lets hope we all get better someday
  18. I just wasn't able to cope with life anymore. I think this is the right course of action. I'm here for three months. It's really difficult, but I'm determined to make it through. Does anyone have any tips that can make life in hospital a bit more bearable? Please wish me luck. I'm going to need it!
  19. More specifically, I got told there was nothing they could do for me ever. So, today I had the second session of a two-part assessment with the psychology department in my CMHT. What was meant to happen - so I was told - was that they would assess me, then they would collate the information from this assessment with the info from my assessment with the eating disorder team, and then the team at the CMHT would offer me therapy. I made this vow before I started these assessments that this time I was going to make it work. Because I can't keep dropping out of therapy over and over again, or else I'm never going to get better. By doing it I was just indulging in typical borderline behaviour. So I'm promised myself that I would stick with it this time. Except that now there's nothing to stick with. I would type up everything that happened this session, but I can't because I keep getting all emotional and wordless... and anyway it would make this post too long. Basically, amidst this woman insulting and belittling me, she informed me that there was absolutely nothing the CMHT could offer me. No talk therapy, no CBT, no nothing. I was told quite clrealy in no uncertain terms that they couldn't do anything at all for me ever. According to this woman, there is not therapy available from the CMHT at all for me. She also informed me that the eating disorder unit will not be offering me therapy either because I'm not that ill and don't need it as much as other people. Inpatient treatment is out, intensive day treatment is out. Those are both done through the CMHT. Apparently in the entirety of South England there is only one option available to me, which is at least 18 months of day therapy, mostly group therapy, which requires me coming off some of my meds, and would mean that I would have to drop out of uni altogether. I just feel kind of broken right now. I had promised myself that I would make it work, but now there isn't anything to make work. I don't know what to do...
  20. Once again, I've been upset by my Mum. Back story: I was talking to my Mum on skype and I happened to make an off-hand comment about therapy (it was relevant to the topic, which was broadly related to my needing to go to hospital). She responded "But what would you need therapy for?" [That was the end of the phonecall. I started crying, so I told her I needed to work and she let me go - even though I don't actually have any work to do, seeing as I'm not studying at the moment.] She knows that I have BPD, and I've explained in baby terms what that means (it went in one ear and out the other). She just doesn't get it. She can't see the illness, so it doesn't exist. So she shouts at me for being moody, or depressed. If I had, I don't know, the flu, then she would fuss over me, but the BPD just doesn't exist to her, and its symptoms are personality flaws instead (which she can criticise or yell at me for). Every time she sees me she starts bitching at me for all sorts of things. My room isn't tidy (yes Mum, I just moved my things home, didn't I?), I haven't put x thing away yet (which she asked me to do literally five minutes before she started yelling), and her new favourite: Because I'm not at uni at the moment, I have to get a job. What does she NOT understand about taking medical leave from university? Medical leave - you know, because I'm ill. If I can't cope with uni work, how the hell am I going to be able to get a job right now. It just frustrates me so much. My parents won't cut me any slack, they treat me as if I'm faking it, or just lazy, or that I'm trying to spite them. It's not even that they can't imagine what it's like to be mentally ill - they just refuse to acknowledge that I'm ill at all. And that's the other thing that really pisses me off - they refuse to acknowledge MI because they can't see it, so have no proof of its existence. But that's not true. My Mum has managed to completely miss that right under her nose I've basically wasted away to nothing. I have a BMI of 14.7. I look like a skeleton. How have they not noticed this? I mean, there's a point where you can't keep it secret anymore because you look like a flipping skeleton. Next time she asks a stupid question about why I need therapy or need to go to hospital, I'm really tempted to reply, "It's because you are the most neglectful, stupid parent I have ever had the misfortune to meet. I can't wait until I'm not dependent on you anymore. You can go and join my abusive father and live happily ever after I somewhere-else-istan. And I am NOT visiting." [/rant] Sorry about the rant. I'm sure there are lots of people who can empathise with this kind of a stupid situation with family members. My question is: how have you dealt with it? I'm still financially dependent on my parents until I leave uni and get a job. I can't get a job now because I'm so ill, and when I go back to uni I won't be able to because it's against uni regulations (and I'd never have time in between all my studying). So as long as I'm at uni I'm stuck with them, and also in the holidays I have to move back home (and also I've moved back home now because I've taken time out, but I'm spending as much time as possible elsewhere). So I'm stuck under their jurisdiction, and it's not so simple to just tell them I'm an adult now and therefore they can't treat me like crap because they don't have power over me - because my Dad won't stand for that, and when he doesn't stand for something he does it very loudly and very aggressively. I go home as little as possible, and almost never when my Dad is there. I've been going home in the past to see my Mum and brother, but now I feel like why should I go and see my Mum? She only ever treats me like crap and she's always at home, so I'd rather meet my brother somewhere else. I just feel like I'm not even welcome in my own home, but I have no choice. Has anyone got an advice? It really hurts that my Mum does this, because I'm her daughter, and I can't stop the part of me that seeks support and approval from her. That little hopeful bit of me that always thinks "this time she'll listen, this time she'll help" is getting me hurt really badly, but I don't know how to switch it off. To anyone who actually reads all that, thanks.
  21. I've suspended my studies at uni for medical leave. I've been getting worse and worse over the course of this academic year because of the pressure, and then my tutors epically messed up my modules this term, so I ended up having an insane workload (like 15 500+ page textbooks to read "during the holidays" and me getting the booklist in my first week back), and that was just the last straw. I delayed pulling out for quite a while for two reasons. 1. I didn't want to pull out until I had a plan for my treatment, so that I could use the time out as best as possible to try and recover. 2. My parents. Now I've failed on both of those. I don't have a treatment plan. I have a letter my doctor wrote to the CMHT saying that I urgently needed treatment on account of me being about 30lbs underweight and seriously considering suicide to put an end to an illness which I didn't think was ever going to be treated - which the CMHT have thus far ignored. And I have very unimpressed parents. My Mum does not understand my position at all in the slightest. I told her I wanted to suspend my studies and she was just like "oh". Over and over again "oh". I told her I was seriously ill and probably needed to go to hospital. "Oh." Three days later, I called her and told her that I had spoken to the relevant authorities and initiated the suspension process. She said "Oh, you've actually decided to do this?" As if it was a surprise to her. I tried to explain how I felt to her - I've done more explaining to her in the last two weeks than in my whole life before that - and she does not understand one bit of how an illness that she can't see (and therefore doesn't exist) could stop me from being able to study. I don't know what she told my Dad. I don't want to know. My Dad is obsessed with academic achievements - honestly I think the only reason he still acknowledges me as his daughter is because I got into a good university. We go months at a time without speaking to each other. I could rant more about how stupid my parents are, but I'll move that over to the family forum. I guess I just want to put the question to CB: Was pulling out a smart decision? Because I'm honestly not sure. I feel so much like I'm a complete failure because of my parents, and so much like I'm just making up how bad my illness is because of the CMHT, that I really don't know what's real anymore. My boyfriend tells me it's the right decision, but that doesn't really replace the approval I ought to have received from my parents. I just don't know anymore. Sorry for ranting like an idiot.
  22. I wasn't really sure where to put this, but here we go. I'll try to keep it brief. Basically, a few weeks ago my doctor recommended that I suspend my university studies because my mental health was deteriorating really fast. I had been planning on doing so anyway, so that's been done. It's a relief to be able to relax away from the pressure of work, although my tutors weren't too impressed. At the same time, my doctor wrote an urgent letter to the CMHT and the local eating disorder unit. I've read the letter, and it essentially stressed that I was in an urgent situation, and they should consider inpatient treatment asap. Then I waited. Eventually the eating disorder unit called me and said that they couldn't offer an earlier appointment for an assessment than the one that I already had (from me calling them up desperately about a month ago and saying that I really needed a review). That's alright, because it's on the 21st. However, they are only offering to move me up the waiting list for outpatient CBT. The CMHT weren't quite so helpful. I phoned them and left a message saying that I'd like to follow up on the letter that was sent, and eventually I got a call back from some guy who I don't know. He's never met me before, but apparently he's an expert on my case... Anyway, he was very unpleasant. I explained to him what was in the letter and how my situation was deteriorating and I needed urgent help with suicidality and my eating disorder (as my doctor had stated in the letter). He told me that they would not offer any help on the grounds of my diagnosis of BPD, because they're not a specialist service. Eventually, after some disscussion, he told me that they would assign me a case manager to meet with me occasionally, and that that should be sufficient support until I can start therapy in August. I had to agree to this - because if I didn't then he said that I would be discharged from the CMHT altogether due to being non-treatment compliant. Non-treatment compliant? I've taken every positive step I possibly can to aid my recovery. I've followed the advice of my psychiatrist to the letter. In every single assessment I've had, I've told them that I really, passionately want to have therapy and other treatment, because I'm dedicated to getting better. I don't think I've ever not been treatment compliant. I just don't know what to do now. I know, and my doctor has told me that I really ought to go inpatient because I need to be monitored closely. My eating disorder has got dangerously out of hand, and as I am still waiting for therapy, I have no help in managing it except from my GP. The CMHT isn't going to offer anything except CBT starting August, and now I'm scared to push for better support, because I don't want to be discharged. But August is a long way off, and if I'm at risk now, then I really don't want to wait and find out how much worse I'll be in August if I go that long without treatment. I'm dependent on the appointment with the eating disorder unit, but I'm worried that I'm just going to be stuck on another waiting list for outpatient CBT. How can I stress the fact that I need treatment now, not next year? I'm afraid that if I have to keep waiting, I'm going to end up dead. My health is deteriorating that fast - I don't know which is going to get me first, the Anorexia or my suicidality. I would go to a&e, but every time I go there I get stuck in the waiting room for six hours then get seen by a nurse for five minutes and get sent home. I'm safer at home in the first place, really. I would welcome any ideas. I'm really desperate. Thanks to anyone who actually reads all of that.
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