So, here we go again.
I promised that this would be the last part, I wasn't lying heheheh :)
Okay, I quitted my job and was at home doing nothing but eat the entire day, so I decided to see a psychiatrist, I knew that I need help and I was so miserable and depressed that I couldn't stand another day with that feeling. During the therapy, I told him the whole story, he confirmed that I had depression and he prescribed me some meds. He said that there isn't a real cure for eating disorder, the best thing I could get would be how to live with the disease without feeling like a piece of garbage, he also said that until I truly believed that there's hope for me, that I can be happy I wouldn't be capable of being cured, that I was too attached to the past, that it's normal to people move on, that I could meet new friends even more interesting than the ones that I had, but I was (am) too attached with everything that happened at those days that I used to have control, that I was refusing to move on. He said that I was expecting some kind of "miracle" that would make things go back exactley how they were before; that my friends still would be there for me (all of them, not just a few ones), that I woud still be thin, popular and in control of my life. Inside of me, I knew all those things, what I wanted was some kind of magic answer/solution to solve all my problems and to make me feel ok with all the changes that happened in my life. So, I didn't get the magic answer, the depression didn't leave me and I was feeling exactly the same, only now, more hopeless than ever, 'cause I had use the last card - the psychiatrist card- and didn't work at all and I had absolutely no idea about what should I do next.
So, I decided to get a job, 'cause I needed money and I couldn't stand be at home all day and being judged by my mother, she said that I'm pathetic, that I didn't have any disease (to her, eating disorder isn't a disease, only cancer or something like that) and that I'm dumb, that I wasted all my life. One day I was feeling so bad (I threw up in a plastic bag in my backyard and posted that on my old blog) and I really needed to try to make my mother understand how I felt,
that I wasn't making a scene, that I was really depressed and wishing I was dead. So, I showed her my blog, specifically that post about the purge, she barely read and started to scream things like: "You're worthless, all you do is to seat in front of the computer and write these stupid things, if you're going to throw up the food that I buy, don't eat! Food is expensive and differently than you, there's people starving all over the world right now and aren't stupid like you to throw it all away". I didn't say anything, not because I was feeling afraid of her, but because those words destroyed parts of me that I didn't even was aware that still existed; my own mother was saying those awful things to me, she wasn't like other mother's, she didn't
have faith in me, she didn't think I was beautiful... no, to her, I was pathetic, a failure, attention seeker and dumb. From that day on, I realized I couldn't count on her for anything and became even more difficult to me to live under the same roof as her, because I was feeling more and more left out of the so called family...
So, I got a new job right? Nothing special, just something to make me busy and to pay the bills. I went to another psychiatrist, who said the same things, plus he even said that he'd like to talk to my mother...ha! I don't even have to say that she didn't went. Then, I quitted this therapy too. I had a work colleague who wanted to live alone, she was looking for a roommate, so, I went to live with her. I alredy was close to her, knew her, liked her and I thought this could work and the best part was that I'd get out of this living hell that I still live: my parents house. And bam, I got fired from my job! But that didn't change things, we still would live together and after I get all the money from the job, I'd start to look for another one. So, at first everything was ok, we had fun together. I thought that living with her I wouldn't feel so lonely, but different than me, she had a social life, every day at night when she got home from work, her friends called her non-stop and I just simply stood there, looking at my cell phone that didn't received a call for ages (hahahaha, totally pathetic, I know) and they asked her to go out, every time she went out, she invited me and she really wanted me to go with her, 'cause she knew about my depression,
the eating disorder and bla bla bla, but I was never in the mood for it. One day - after 2 months that I was living with her - I went grocery shopping and by the time I left the building I started to feel SO anxious (I rarely went out to the street when I lived with this girl), I started getting panic attacks, started to feel scared, like if something terrible was about to happen to me and nobody would be able to help me. So, I had some kind of panic attack in the middle of street; people called an ambulance, but even though I couldn't stop screaming and crying, so they had to medicated me and later that day, my roommate went pick me up from the hospital. I refused to make the whole tests, so when I left the hospital, I thought I had some kind of panic attack and that was it, that wouldn't happen ever again... oh boy, I was wrong! Few days later, I tried to get out of the apartment and the whole thing happened again and I felt even more scared, if that's possible. At the hospital, the doctor (psychiatrist) who were examining me while I was sedated
('cause I couldn't relax without being sedated) diagnosed the agoraphobia. He said that the disease was triggered by the E.D, that I was too concerned about my image and what people could think about me, that this whole insecurity have taken me to the agoraphobia and that probably was getting stronger for a few months, but that I only became aware of it when I got out of my comfort zone.
Okay, I quitted my job and was at home doing nothing but eat the entire day, so I decided to see a psychiatrist, I knew that I need help and I was so miserable and depressed that I couldn't stand another day with that feeling. During the therapy, I told him the whole story, he confirmed that I had depression and he prescribed me some meds. He said that there isn't a real cure for eating disorder, the best thing I could get would be how to live with the disease without feeling like a piece of garbage, he also said that until I truly believed that there's hope for me, that I can be happy I wouldn't be capable of being cured, that I was too attached to the past, that it's normal to people move on, that I could meet new friends even more interesting than the ones that I had, but I was (am) too attached with everything that happened at those days that I used to have control, that I was refusing to move on. He said that I was expecting some kind of "miracle" that would make things go back exactley how they were before; that my friends still would be there for me (all of them, not just a few ones), that I woud still be thin, popular and in control of my life. Inside of me, I knew all those things, what I wanted was some kind of magic answer/solution to solve all my problems and to make me feel ok with all the changes that happened in my life. So, I didn't get the magic answer, the depression didn't leave me and I was feeling exactly the same, only now, more hopeless than ever, 'cause I had use the last card - the psychiatrist card- and didn't work at all and I had absolutely no idea about what should I do next.
So, I decided to get a job, 'cause I needed money and I couldn't stand be at home all day and being judged by my mother, she said that I'm pathetic, that I didn't have any disease (to her, eating disorder isn't a disease, only cancer or something like that) and that I'm dumb, that I wasted all my life. One day I was feeling so bad (I threw up in a plastic bag in my backyard and posted that on my old blog) and I really needed to try to make my mother understand how I felt,
that I wasn't making a scene, that I was really depressed and wishing I was dead. So, I showed her my blog, specifically that post about the purge, she barely read and started to scream things like: "You're worthless, all you do is to seat in front of the computer and write these stupid things, if you're going to throw up the food that I buy, don't eat! Food is expensive and differently than you, there's people starving all over the world right now and aren't stupid like you to throw it all away". I didn't say anything, not because I was feeling afraid of her, but because those words destroyed parts of me that I didn't even was aware that still existed; my own mother was saying those awful things to me, she wasn't like other mother's, she didn't
have faith in me, she didn't think I was beautiful... no, to her, I was pathetic, a failure, attention seeker and dumb. From that day on, I realized I couldn't count on her for anything and became even more difficult to me to live under the same roof as her, because I was feeling more and more left out of the so called family...
So, I got a new job right? Nothing special, just something to make me busy and to pay the bills. I went to another psychiatrist, who said the same things, plus he even said that he'd like to talk to my mother...ha! I don't even have to say that she didn't went. Then, I quitted this therapy too. I had a work colleague who wanted to live alone, she was looking for a roommate, so, I went to live with her. I alredy was close to her, knew her, liked her and I thought this could work and the best part was that I'd get out of this living hell that I still live: my parents house. And bam, I got fired from my job! But that didn't change things, we still would live together and after I get all the money from the job, I'd start to look for another one. So, at first everything was ok, we had fun together. I thought that living with her I wouldn't feel so lonely, but different than me, she had a social life, every day at night when she got home from work, her friends called her non-stop and I just simply stood there, looking at my cell phone that didn't received a call for ages (hahahaha, totally pathetic, I know) and they asked her to go out, every time she went out, she invited me and she really wanted me to go with her, 'cause she knew about my depression,
the eating disorder and bla bla bla, but I was never in the mood for it. One day - after 2 months that I was living with her - I went grocery shopping and by the time I left the building I started to feel SO anxious (I rarely went out to the street when I lived with this girl), I started getting panic attacks, started to feel scared, like if something terrible was about to happen to me and nobody would be able to help me. So, I had some kind of panic attack in the middle of street; people called an ambulance, but even though I couldn't stop screaming and crying, so they had to medicated me and later that day, my roommate went pick me up from the hospital. I refused to make the whole tests, so when I left the hospital, I thought I had some kind of panic attack and that was it, that wouldn't happen ever again... oh boy, I was wrong! Few days later, I tried to get out of the apartment and the whole thing happened again and I felt even more scared, if that's possible. At the hospital, the doctor (psychiatrist) who were examining me while I was sedated
('cause I couldn't relax without being sedated) diagnosed the agoraphobia. He said that the disease was triggered by the E.D, that I was too concerned about my image and what people could think about me, that this whole insecurity have taken me to the agoraphobia and that probably was getting stronger for a few months, but that I only became aware of it when I got out of my comfort zone.
Well, after that, I came back to my parents place, because I couldn't even get out of the apartment to grocery shopping, so obviously I wasn't getting any job so soon and also because, it wasn't her responsibility to take care of me, she had her own life and problems.
Anyway, summarizing: I became an even bigger joke to my mother. My father paid for one year the psychiatrist treatment for agoraphobia (yeah, I spent a entire year inside of my house, I didn't even went to the backyard. The kitchen's door was my limit). The psychiatrist had to come at my house to the therapy - cause I couldn't get out of my house - and I was able to learn how to control a little the agoraphobia, but even today it ain't easy, it's a 24h job, I have to focus a lot, take a lot of anxiety medications and pretty much create a whole fantasy world inside of my head, so I can get out, without fainting in the middle of the street. So, it's too much pressure: agoraphobia + E.D = me eating like a pig.
After I was able to manage the agoraphobia, I lose weight, saw those few friends a couple of time, filled my heart with (silly) hopes that everything would be ok... Then, the vicious cycle came back: I gained back all the weight I lost, started to hide again from my friends and bla bla bla.
Anyway, summarizing: I became an even bigger joke to my mother. My father paid for one year the psychiatrist treatment for agoraphobia (yeah, I spent a entire year inside of my house, I didn't even went to the backyard. The kitchen's door was my limit). The psychiatrist had to come at my house to the therapy - cause I couldn't get out of my house - and I was able to learn how to control a little the agoraphobia, but even today it ain't easy, it's a 24h job, I have to focus a lot, take a lot of anxiety medications and pretty much create a whole fantasy world inside of my head, so I can get out, without fainting in the middle of the street. So, it's too much pressure: agoraphobia + E.D = me eating like a pig.
After I was able to manage the agoraphobia, I lose weight, saw those few friends a couple of time, filled my heart with (silly) hopes that everything would be ok... Then, the vicious cycle came back: I gained back all the weight I lost, started to hide again from my friends and bla bla bla.
I guess it's pretty much it. Now as you guys know, I have a job, went back to college, CAN'T lose weight, binge ALL the time and don't see my real friends for a long time.
All these things happened to me from my 17 to my 21 years old (last year). I've been through a lot and the worst part is that I haven't changed. I'm still haunting by the past, by what coud I have been, I used to be so promising and now I'm this mess.
All these things happened to me from my 17 to my 21 years old (last year). I've been through a lot and the worst part is that I haven't changed. I'm still haunting by the past, by what coud I have been, I used to be so promising and now I'm this mess.
The same girl who wants to go back in time when everything were perfect and by doing that, I'm shutting myself to new people and new experiences, 'cause in my stupid head, doesn't seem that I could possibly meet a nicer group of people than those friends I had, and that we would have so much fun as I had with them, because what if I decided to do that, meet new people and get disappointed? Then I'd know there's really nothing for me in this world, that I can't be happy ever again. While I'm still shutting myself up, I feel like the depression and all my failures are ED's fault (me playing the victim here ¬¬), but if I take that chance and things didn't change? So, there's no one to blame. I'll have to admit that I'm a failure, pathetic, that I wasted my life and that I won't be happy, that I'll keep living my life through/remembering about the past, trying
to lose weight (without being able to actually lose it)... Being pretty much a failure.
I don't think I could handle with any more pain, so I rather leave the "possibility door" closed, 'cause once I open it, there's no way back, if I don't like what has to offer me, there will be no more doors to open it.
to lose weight (without being able to actually lose it)... Being pretty much a failure.
I don't think I could handle with any more pain, so I rather leave the "possibility door" closed, 'cause once I open it, there's no way back, if I don't like what has to offer me, there will be no more doors to open it.
"Don't let anyone ever make you feel like you don't deserve what you want."
