Archive for the ‘eating disorder’ Category

Food always comes first

October 12, 2008

I am sat here in this midden of a flat, surrounded by overflowing ash trays, empty diet coke cans, unwashed plates, dirty clothes. I should be cleaning up.

At least thirty unopened letters litter the hall floor. I should be paying my bills.

My dad goes into hospital today. I should be thinking of him.

My hair is greasy and my nails are filthy. I should be having a shower.

My curtains are closed, blocking out the sun. I should be going out for a walk.

My houseplants are dying. I should water them.

But all I can think of is that Ben and Jerries icecream is on sale at £2 at my local supermarket, and I must get there before it closes, so I can binge today.  I did the same yesterday. I will do the same tomorrow, knowing that a binge will help me sleep away the rest of the day, so then I can ignore all the things I should be doing.

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On being fat

August 31, 2008

I’ve been a compulsive eater for as long as I can remember. I can remember being in trouble at 4 years old for eating all the chocolates in the house, but my problems spiralled out of control when I hit puberty. Partly due to the hormones I suppose, but mostly to do with the available cash I had from my paper round, all of which went on sweets until I started smoking a few years later lol.

My mother was as thin as a rake and that’s where the problems started. I really feel that if less emphasis had been put on my puppy fat as a child, I wouldn’t be over 20 stone now. Fat women were always pointed out to me with the promise that I’d end up like them if I didn’t stop eating. I was told I’d need to take more baths as fat people smell. That I couldn’t have long hair because it makes my face look fatter. At the time I was at the most, 10lbs overweight.

During my twenties I drank (a lot) which helped keep my weight down to a fairly acceptable level. But since hitting thirty I’ve gained at least 6 stone, especially since I left work last year. My day revolves around getting and eating food. I live on ready meals and snacks, despite loving healthy options and veg. The depression makes me so lazy and fatigued that just the thought of making a sandwich is too much for me a lot of the time so I buy preprepared food. Yet I have the energy each day to take a bus to my supermarket and buy binge food. So of course this fatigue is all in my head.

Today I was sent some photographs of myself taken recently on a day out. I barely recognised the woman in them. Huge arms. Rolls of fat and a disappearing chin. I look ten years older than I am. How did this happen without me realising? Perhaps because I refuse to have a full length mirror in the house.

Self harm scars can be hidden from most people. Drunkeness can often be explained away as socialising. But fat is seen by everyone. From the kids on the street who shout ”ugly cow” to the men in the pub who push their friend into you and shout ”she’s yours” whilst they all laugh.

Yes I eat too much. No I don’t exercise. Yes it’s my fault. God I know all that. But when you see that fatty on the street, stop to think for a second. Would anyone who was happy really let themselves get into that state? From the moment I wake up I panic about where I can get food from. I’m sat here right now obsessing about the indian food in my fridge. I’ve tried Weightwatchers, National Slimming Centres, Atkins, Caveman diet. I’ve tried swimming until someone laughed at me. I’ve tried exercise dvd’s at home but just can’t motivate myself. Every time I attempt to restrict my binges the urge to cut comes back ten times worse. So I have a choice between scars or fat. Hobsons choice. I wish I could starve myself.

Early morning blues

August 31, 2008

Hate waking up with that sinking feeling. Eyes stinging from lack of real sleep. Another day just like the rest. The first thoughts are always of food. But I don’t have the energy to make breakfast so it’s straight to the sofa again.  Switch on the tv to watch news from the real world but don’t really care. Smoke the first of many cigs and cough til I’m sick. Survey the filth and mess around me but know I will fail to start the clean up yet again. It’s easier to close my eyes again and hide for a few more hours.

To blog or not to blog?

August 29, 2008

As the title of my lovely new blog suggests, I spend most of my time welded to my big red squidgy sofa. In that case, what on earth do I have to talk about? Well we’ll have to see what transpires I guess. Probably a lot of self obsessed musings about my depression, coupled with the occasional bitter rant at mental health ”services”.

So a bit about me. 35 yrs old, terminally lazy (my gp calls it chronic motivational problems but bless him for trying to be tactful), various dx over the years of reactive depression, bulimia, compulsive eater and the latest (drumroll) ………. emotionally unstable personality traits! Wonderful. It says a lot about me that my reaction to the latter was to take umbrage at not being given the full blown personality disorder diagnosis. I feel like i’ve only acheived 40% in an exam lol.

I’ve been in and out of psychiatrists offices since my teens, with varying success. Some were good. Some were bad. Sometimes I was good, sometime I was bad. Most of the time I just didn’t click with them and I do tend to make my mind up about people very quickly (i.e they’re all out to get me).

Last year I had a mini meltdown which resulted in a months rest in one of our wonderful NHS psychiatric hospitals. An eye opening experience as it had been many years since my last ‘holiday’ and one which I am yet to move on from.  But more on that another time.  On my discharge form I noticed my new diagnosis. ”What’s this?” I said. No answer or explanation was forthcoming from the nurse, and so started a long journey into the world of bpd and the internet. For the purpose of this blog I’ll be using the term bpd traits, partly because it’s more known than the term EUPD and also because that’s what my gp calls it. Also because having read up on it at length, I’m fairly certain that I display most of the traits if not all of the time.

So why start a blog today? Well it’s partly because I should be getting dressed and going out to the shop, so this is the perfect excuse not to. Secondly, a few things have been going on recently which have made me more introspective than usual. I don’t really expect anyone to read this (oh ok yes i do, i’m nothing if not an attention seeker), but I have found that keeping a diary helps me occasionally, and hopefully this will act as another distraction technique.

I’m a self harmer. Over the years my destructive coping mechanism has varied from drinking, over eating, cutting, hair pulling, to hitting myself in the head with a hammer or grinding gravel into my knee in the school playground as a kid. Self harm has been part of my life for as long as i can remember, but I always tended to only see the cutting as SI in the past. It’s never been something that I think of as cool. I love my scars. I hate my scars. I hide them from the general public, but I do tell the doctor if I’ve done it. A couple of nights ago I cut my wrist. I didn’t slash it. Nothing so dramatic. Just a cut deep enough to need steri strips and a quick trip to A&E. I’d put it off for two weeks.  In the last month I’ve been dealing with an attempt at coming off meds which failed and also finding out that my dad has cancer. I also have an upcoming appointment with the consultant from hell, although the dreams I have where I strangle her in her office are most enjoyable lol. But she deserves a post of her own.  Anyway the upshot is that I’ve been feeling very detached and the cutting was to bring me back to life. It worked for a while. Enough for me to start writing things down here.

So that’s who I am I guess. More to come.