I haven't had the need to write for a long time, until recently. But it's taken me a while to get my head round it.
So,
ED came to stay earlier this year. Quite out of the blue, but he came
with a suitcase, so it wasn't just a flying visit unfortunately!
Let me take you back to the start of the year.
ED's visit started on the very sad day that my 91 year old Nan
died. Nan dying wasn't a shock, it wasn't a tragedy, she was an old woman who had reached the end of her lovely life, but she's the closest
person to me that's died in a very long time, and I was surprised by how much it effected me.
I just felt this overwhelming sadness, an actual pain in the pit of my stomach.
I
spent the whole day with practically my whole family, talking about
her, helping with her eulogy, laughing about things she used to say
and do. But, even though I was surrounded by my family, I felt this
hollowness inside.
I left my aunt's house around 3pm and drove home. Waiting on my doorstep
was ED with his big arms outstretched! We had the house to ourselves!
You know the drill from here.
My very kind boss told me to take the rest of the week off, so the next 3 days was filled with binging and purging to help with my grief.
Strange how quickly ED sees an opportunity to
pounce, but when he does, it's like I've never been without him. All of
the therapy, all of the advise, all of the hard work I've done to
excavate him from my life, goes! I was in a whirlwind of ED.
4 days after this started, I spoke to Steve. Came clean. In a burst of
snot filled sobs, I owned up to yet again letting this awful man back
into our lives. Steve said that he had been scared that something like this might
happen, and he had been keeping an eye on my behaviours, trying to work out the
signs. But Steve was never in the house when I done it, so what could he
watch for? I've said it before, I'm very good at covering my tracks.
It's weird, coz when I'm in that place, I loathe myself!
I'm full of utter hatred for 'letting' ED get the better of me. I
convince myself that it's my fault. When I stand back, having come out
of the other side (yet again), I know that it's not my fault. It's an
addiction, it's a mental disorder...an illness. And unfortunately, when my barriers come down, that addiction seems like the only way I can get
through a rough situation. I'm getting better at asking for help. Let's
think back, the 1st time I suffered in silence for 10 years! The next
time around 4 months! This time, 4 days. For that alone, I should be
proud of myself for not letting it get out of hand before asking for
help.
I spoke to Kristel too, and so with my amazing little unit around me, I clawed my out of ED's embrace.
The
binging stopped. But the odd dinner would be thrown up every few days,
the feeling of ED's presence didn't wain, the self loathing continued.
All the while, i'm getting on with my life, and during the next week or so, I visited the doctor
about an abscess I had removed last year. It had started to give me some
trouble, so off to the doctors I went. I thought it might just be an
infection, another dose of anti biotics! Wrong! I needed to have more
surgery. And it wasn't straight forward surgery.
The thought of having to go through that recovery again was
terrifying. The operation I can handle, the recovery, not so much. If
you're not familiar with my complicated issues, let me give you a little
run down.
I had an abscess last summer that unfortunately went septic and
threatened to take me down. I had emergency surgery on it to drain it, followed by 2 very uncomfortable weeks of having to have the wound packed and dressed. Very unpleasant, so you can understand my nerves of having to have it done again.
So, as it turned out, i'd developed a fistula.
Which in laymens terms, is a tunnel from the inside of the wound, which
leads to my anal passage. Oooh, major detail I forgot to add....this
abscess is 1inch from my bum hole! Now can you understand why I so bloody nervous about having it done again?
So I had this operation to determine how complicated this
fistula is, and to prep it for another operation which I'd have to have
later down the line. All the time this is going on, ED is being my shoulder to cry on - or rather, the fingers down my throat. It helped me cope, it gave me power.
In my recovery, I developed a terrible infection
inside the wound, which meant another emergency operation (this being the 3rd) to remove the infected pocket. Not only did I
feel awful and was in immense pain, the thought of having my arse opened up again, and the 2
weeks of excruciating painful recovery, popping pills every 3 hours, and
yet more time off work, was dragging me down. And knowing that this wasn't the end with the
fourth operation to come, which only has a 40% chance of working, and
has a very strong possibility of making me incontinent!!!! I wasn't in a
very good place! I'm due to have the 4th operation in October, so please keep your fingers crossed form me?
Who was there with his big greasy arms outstretched? You got it! ED! I used my ability to stay in control of something by throwing up food that i'd put inside me.
So basically 2014 started really quite bad for me. I felt alone. Even though i'd told Steve and Kristel about it, I wasn't ready to share with anyone else yet, as I felt like a complete looser. I felt like i'd be letting everyone down. I yet again, plastered my 'i'm fine' face on, and pretended everything was ok.
During all of this, my skin exploded with some of the worst
acne I've ever had. This didn't help with the hatred I was feeling for
myself. I literally wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there until my
arse sorted itself out, my face stopped resembling a Mighty Meaty, and
ED had fucked off.
The purging continued until about 6 weeks ago. Not regular, but still a few times a week. I'd managed to get back to being 'me' again, the hatred started to fade, but ED still lingered.
But unfortunately those kinds of rocks don't exist do they? Good job though. As it made me fight through.
With
ED, I think that I'll always have a distorted image of myself and probably
will always want to be smaller than I am (don't most girls?) . But I felt unhealthy.
As you
know, I've flittered between diets all of my life, but I needed a life plan. I needed to stop focusing on loosing weight, but start focusing on getting healthy.
A
guy who I work with is very healthy, fit, and bodybuilderesque. No, I
don't want to become a body builder, but I knew he could give me some
advice about nutrition, how the body actually works, good tips on fat
burning in the gym. So I plucked up the courage to ask him. We went for
coffee, and I sat and listened to some of the best nutritional advice
I've ever had. I'm not stupid, but I honestly wasn't aware of some
really quite simple facts about metabolism, starvation, calories. I
think a lot of people think they know it, but actually don't.
He advised me to up my calories, which i straight away poo pooed.
No way! He told me to up my level of intensity in the gym. With the
right food, at the right times, he promised me I would see results.
What
did I have to loose? I wasn't loosing any serious weight doing what I
was doing and I felt like shit. So after reading up a lot about what he told me (to check he
wasn't making it up, and I'd end up a stone heavier), I gave it a go.
Sam, if you're reading this, you know how much I appreciate the help and advise. I love telling you about my inch loss and the look of pride on your face. It reflects the pride I have for myself. The pride that Steve and my nearest and dearest have for me for doing this.
It's amazing how eating the right food can make you
feel. My body and mind started craving more and more healthy living. I
was loving the gym (still am by the way), eating what felt like, all
day, full of energy, my skin cleared up, and I felt amazing within a
week. So I've continued with the plan.
So with my new plan going, EDs presence has faded into the
background. I didn't even feel him leave. No goodbye note, no 'see you
soon' .... just gone!
I've been so focused on actually getting healthy, loosing fat and loving the gym, that I forgot about ED. How weird? He came so suddenly into my life again, and on my terms (without even really trying), he went away again.
That's not to say that I don't think about ED still. I still have to remember that the 'full up' feeling is OK, the little treats on the weekend are fine. The proof is in the pudding....when I do have a treat day, and wake up feeling 'fat' I remember that in 6 weeks i've lost 10 inches (from chest, waist, biceps, legs, hips), and 5lbs. It's not going to go back on just because i've had a bad day. Even with ED in my ear telling me that I may as well give up and continue my affair with him.
I will continue to live my new healthy lifestyle, and I will continue to kick ED to the gutter.
Thank you for keeping with me, your support, and for helping me to continue to blog for you. This is fabulous therapy for me. Writing this all down helps me to see how far i've come. Know that you've read my blog helps me, and the comments always boost me!!!
x