Be careful, it's getting slippery.

Hey readers,

I'm sorry for not updating yesterday, but sometimes you say a lot by not saying anything.

I made the mistake of purchasing whole wheat fruit sweetened cookies and brown rice crisp cereal. I thought they were healthy enough and didn't have a ton of sugar so I wouldn't binge on them. I was wrong, because I did so on Wednesday.

Anyways, Thursday went downhill. The morning was ok- went out for coffee with a friend. Even though I was already feeling the guilt from the bingeing, Starbuck's now has vegan frapuccinos and I couldn't resist getting one.

I had a fun time hanging out, sipping the icy, creamy deliciousness. The ED was quite for a bit.

Then later in the afternoon it started screaming.

"compensate for the binge"

"You had a frapuccino? That's a glorified milkshake!"

"You're disgusting"

"Just don't eat. It's not worth it"

"If you start eating you will lose control again"

So I didn't eat after that. I wanted to punish myself somehow....and it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

That's how illogical the disorder is.

At 5:00pm I went for an appointment with Toar. I was really out of it and couldn't think clearly enough to answer her questions. Eventually it came out that I hadn't eaten all day. She tried to get me to eat a couple crackers, but I was stubborn and refused. I sort of stormed out of her office crying - so mature, I know.

I immediately felt guilty for treating someone who has only shown me kindness and understanding with such rudeness and immaturity. I sent my apologies....but still didn't want to eat anything. I had roller derby practice an hour after my appointment, and I knew I wouldn't be able to do it without eating.

So I just didn't go.

I laid in bed for a couple hours in the fuzzy mental state that intense hunger causes.

Then I remembered - I had a meeting with a personal trainer tomorrow. My new roommate was moving in tomorrow. I couldn't get out of those so easily.

I begrudgingly ate a sandwich and some soup at around 8:30pm.

Today I wanted to fast again, and with all the activity of moving it was pretty easy to do so (excuse being that I didn't have the time to eat). During my training session, I spent most of the time concentrating on the mirrored walls of the studio.

I was disgusting at every angle.

So I went from eating some fruit and cereal at 8:00am to 4pm without anything. I felt weak and tired again. I was so torn- which way do I go.

I chose to eat again. I felt the guilt and self loathing, and I had to repeat statements like this over and over in my head:

"You're brain doesn't function properly like this, don't you want it to?'

"You're a bitch when your hungry"

"You know where this leads you"

These statements are guilt ridden, and perhaps not the "right" way to motivate myself. It's all I've got right now, except I have been trying to incorporate this one:

" You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection." - Buddha

Now I don't follow organized religion, but I can't deny that Buddha knew his shit. I've made it my purpose in life to try to alleviate the suffering of others, human, animal, rich, poor....you get the picture. So why do I purposefully inflict suffering onto myself?

I wish I knew guys.

Anyways, enough with this ramble. I'm trying to be honest with where I'm at, even though I'd much rather write about the good.

It is a new day tomorrow, so I'll see what I can cope with. I have roller derby again tomorrow night at 8:00, and if anyone would be so kind as to kick my ass into going via the interwebs I'd be most grateful.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

MAY is WEIGHT LOSS MONTH !!!

Hey everyone,

The title of this post comes from the first sentence in an email I recieved....from my cats vet.

It also used up a whole paragraph explaining the prevalence and health risks associated with obesity - in humans. Of course later it explained veterinary guided pet weight loss programs and sales on low calorie cat food, but somehow it had to say a blurb about fat people.

I know that obesity is a health risk - but fuck so is our obsession with weight and shape. Sometimes I wonder if drug addiction would be easier than this - you can stop using drugs but you can't stop eating without risking well, death.

Bah, I'm going on about these random stupid triggers cause I really can't piece together what's going on with me right now. I binged today- not a huge binge but still a binge nonetheless. I haven't done so for a few weeks, and I feel like I failed.

I haven't been socially isolated, but I feel like it. I've been around people the last couple days, but there is so much of myself that is alone. It appears sporatically, popping up in random text messages, facebook statuses and on this blog. I am thankful that this technology allows me to communicate a bit of this, but it cannot replace human contact. Even the sound of someones voice on the phone...

I am blaming nobody but myself for this sense of isolation. So many people have offered themselves as listeners and supporters. You would really have to force yourself upon me to get through the emotional barriers- and even then it's not guaranteed.

So I binge, stand on the scale, feel guilty, feel worthless, feel pathetic, or feel nothing at all.

I am always asking myself if this will ever really get better, or if I am only setting myself up to fail again in the future.

I cannot continue this post with any sort of coherent thought....so I am posting something I've never shown anyone. It is a letter I wrote for my mum. I wrote it shortly after my hospital discharge. The trip to Toronto I refer to is one that I took to meet the Class Afloat crew of 2010 when they returned to Canada....you know, to show support.

I never gave this to my mum, so how can I give it everyone? What if she stumbles across this blog and reads it?

Maybe she should.

I'm bearing my soul the only way I can. To all future employers, graduate school admissions staff, critics - If you search the interwebs for dirt on me....maybe this will make you raise your eyebrows. But you're freaking social workers, you've seen worse.

Dear Mum,

Today you told me how frustrated you were with me. You said how you’ve tried pushing me to do things, which ultimately “pissed me off”. For the past few days you tried leaving me alone, giving me my space, and yet I still just spend time in my room on the computer or trying to sleep. Mum, I know this frustration comes from a place of love and concern, but I feel like it’s another failure.

You know how when you critisize me, and I wince and sort of cower? I do that cause hurting, disappointing, or frustrating you (all people, but especially you) hurts me so much. When I do that I am saying “I give up, do whatever you want to me, I’m sorry, I know I’m a failure”. Dudesie laughs at me when I do it, you get frustrated….I want to disappear.

I really wish I could change that reaction. I wish I could tell you exactly what I wanted/needed for support. Letting me go to Toronto Sunday night was a big one for me, yet I still felt residual anger from you.

Perhaps I am a classic case of avoidant personality disorder. I need people like everyone does, and I care so much about them. However, I’m so scared of screwing it up, by acting weird, by anything….You know that if I have a conversation with someone, I will realize what I was saying and instantly feel ashamed for saying something wrong, in an odd voice, anything that could be insulting. I know by saying this you’re left asking “so what should I do? Walk on eggshells? Not be open with you?”

I don’t know mum. I don’t know what you need to do or say. I’m trying to figure out what I can do or say. So often I wish I’d never been born, that some other DNA mixture of you and Dudesie could create someone who got hurt too easily. You both are such wonderful parents, and all you ever wanted was for me to be happy. I failed.

I don’t know what to do when your around. I’m used to the “mumsie hurricane” that comes and gets me to clean, buy furniture, make lists. True, it is exhausting. However, when you act aloof and try to give me space it feels like you’re angry at me. I know that must be an awful situation for you.

Right now I just want to be alone. Ok, not alone but not with people. I feel like I’m being critiqued. I feel like I’m an awful, lazy person for not wanting to get out of bed. I feel if I made food, you might remark “you’re only eating THAT? That’s pathetic Alex”. I know you only made this comment once in the past, and it was because you didn’t know a lot about eating disorders and were just so frustrated you may have snapped, but it still pops into my head when I eat a lighter meal. At the same time, ED is telling me that I’m eating huge amounts of food and will become obese and even more worthless. So I’m trapped: ED oversees my eating habits, and now (even though you are trying hard not to) I can’t but feel like you do too.

Peace, Love and Veggies everyone,

Alex

sorry

Sorry is my mantra, and I will have to use it now.

I'm sorry for this shitty update. I was crying/moping for the past few hours and am simply too tired.

I know many of you have offered a listening ear when I get into this state, but I feel too unworthy or uncomfortable to ask anyone for help....to rely on anyone

I was reading a book about perfectionism and it kinda started this mess.

I'm not perfect enough to call myself a perfectionist. I imagine people scoffing if I told them I was.

Goodnight readers, sorry again

Peace, love and veggies,

Alex

crutches and how to let go of them

Hey chums,

I'm not sure if I'll be able to post the long, ramblyish posts you've come to know and love (or at least tolerate). I'm a little snoozy and am all cuddled up in my bed with my cat after a nice warm shower (my cat did not accompany me in the shower though...).

Anyways, I wanted to write a bit about crutches - and not the tiny Tim variety. No, I'm talking about special kind of crutches, eating disordered behaviours.

For people who haven't personally experienced or witnessed an eating disorder, this may not make a lot of sense. Text books will say that anorexics don't eat or severely restrict their intake of food, bulimics binge on food then puke it up, and binge eaters well, binge eat. It isn't quite that simple - and by this definition I wouldn't really have an eating disorder now (and if you read previous posts, you can probably attest that I do).

It's a very complex mixture of disordered thoughts and behaviours. There are many examples but today I'll focus on two that are my "crutches" - and as long as I hold onto them the ED will never go away. These behaviours are calorie counting and obsessive weighing (duh, if you've read yesterdays post).

I've counted my daily caloric intake since the beginning of 2006 (except for the months I spent in treatment - thinking about how much I was consuming would probably make me cry at that point). It takes a huge amount of time and energy that I could be using on other, more important things. Nevertheless it is what I do. I have made efforts in the past month to shift my focus. Every night I plan my meals/snacks for the next day (in a neat little chart) according to the recommendations of Canada's food guide. After I do this I will check the number of calories to make sure I haven't "gone overboard" some how. It's never that high, but I still feel the need to check. At least this way I am not thinking about the number all day, which is exhausting. I've deleted the little calorie counter application on my iphone and replaced it with a little "how many servings of the four food groups did you get today" sort of application. I'm also trying to branch out a bit and "guess" how much of something is an ok portion - instead of measuring it and looking it up and calculating blah blah blah.

I've still got a ways to go with that.

Then comes the compulsive/excessive/obsessive weighing. As you read yesterday, it is taking up way too much of my time/energy/focus and really keeping me trapped in the disordered mindset.

Today it was suggested that I get rid of my scale for a bit and only use the ones at the gym whenever I go there.

I said I would.

I don't know if I can.

Sometimes you need a crutch to keep you standing......even if it's weighing you down.

Bah, I shouldn't use metaphors when I'm tired.

Think of your crutches guys

Consider letting them go

Peace love and veggies,

Alex

castles

Hey everyone,

Some small anecdotes for you today, and I will try to string everything together to create something coherent. If I don't, my apologies.

Tonight I was able to convince myself to go on a bike ride. It may puzzle you that I have to force myself to do something I claim to enjoy (which I do). The sad truth is depression (and maybe medications as well) often puts me in slow motion where I am either unwilling or unable (depending on who you ask) to do much of anything. There are times when I literally freeze in one position and just stay there, sort of catatonic. After about 15 seconds I realize what I'm doing and shake myself out of it, but it still continues to happen. Anyways, this makes activities like bike riding seem impossible. However, guilt can usually nudge me into action. So does the eating disorder.

When I do manage to get on my bike I have an hour to enjoy the peace and quite. It is peaceful and quite even when the geese are honking, the nearby roads are full of traffic, little kids having temper tantrums....it's quite. My mind is quite, and the guilt and ED shut up.

I don't experience this silence too often....actually I can't think of any other time I do. Other forms of exercise are loud and chaotic.

Here's a little example. Please keep in mind this is a method to externalize my struggles so I can combat them - I don't literally hear voices. This is the internal dialogue we all do - the devil and angel on your shoulder thing. Usually I have two devils.

Alex goes to the gym:

ED: Finally, you're here. Took you long enough.

Me: Sorry

ED: Now you need to go longer, faster, harder. Compensate for what you've consumed.

Me: (starts) Is this fast/high/hard enough? When can I stop?

ED: No. You have to stay for at least 30 minutes.

Me: (a few minutes into it) I don't think I can do much more, I'm tired.

ED: Fat ass. Too lazy. Why are you even here? Look at everyone, they're doing so much more than you. They look better than you.

Me: (looks around at people) There are some people heavier than me...

ED: THEY look good. THEY look normal. Extra weight can even look good on THEM. You aren't like them.

Me: Maybe I'll just walk on an incline- I can do that.

ED: Not good enough, but do it and I'll leave for a bit.

It doesn't.

Alex going to Yoga:

Me: Ok - I'll go to a yoga class this afternoon

Guilt: You should. You said you would. If you don't you're not trying to get better.

ED: Well, you'll burn more calories than sitting on your ass and browsing the Internet mindlessly.

Me: Maybe I'll do yin yoga

ED: Yin yoga! what good is that? You're not doing anything! You might as well be at home in bed!

Often that convinces me not to go, but sometimes I'm able to go against it.

Me: (at the start of a class) Where should I put my mat?

Guilt/Social Anxiety/Whatever: Hurry- you look like an idiot. Go over there - it's far away from other people.

ED: You look disgusting in yoga clothes.

Guilt: (throughout the class): You're doing it wrong! You're making a fool out of yourself! People are watching! Do it right! Do it right!

I never can.

Anyways, when I bike it's usually just me. My thoughts are simple: "Pedal, stop, pedal, ring your bell, tell the person you're passing on their left, thank them for letting you pass, Go up this hill, turn here, avoid that pothole, GROUNDHOG!, Enjoy the view".....

You get the idea.

Anyways, I got out and got to experience this during the evening. It's my favourite time to go because towards the end of the route I approach the parliament buildings and the Chateau Laurier at sunset. Guess what thought popped into my head when I got there?

Castles!

A couple months back I was riding on the bus returning to downtown. In front of me was a little girl, maybe 5 or 6. When we approached the parliament buildings and the Chateau Laurier she exclaimed "Look mommy! Look at those castles! Aren't they beautiful?". I smiled, and was pleasantly surprised that the mom didn't correct the little girl. She just replied "Yes, they are beautiful".

When I was a kid I did something similar. I was around 5 and we were driving near a whole bunch of beautiful, intricate churches. I was amazed - They have castles in downtown Calgary? WOW! I was later told that they were something called churches and not castles, but I didn't get it. What the hell was a church? Why don't princesses live there? (I know, even then I was hell bound).

Anyways, today was full of ups and downs- perhaps due to medication changes, perhaps due to my crazy. I woke up this morning annoyed (rightfully so, it was 5:00am and I couldn't get back to sleep). However, once I accepted the fact that falling back asleep was not going to happen I dragged myself into the kitchen to make tea and toast. I munched on my toast and watched the morning news. I started thinking about a couple friends who I don't see as much as I would like to. So I sent a small text to wish them a good morning, reminding them of their inner awesome (cause we don't do it enough). As these individuals are amazing people, I got some love back.

Ok, you know the warm fuzzies don't last all day right?

They did for bit. I went out with a friend for lunch and hung out a bit. I had a good time - we went to a veggie restaurant that I liked, we talked, laughed...it seemed to brighten my spirits.

However, after the visit I felt tired. I had plans with another friend, but I didn't feel up to going. I cancelled, and hated myself for it. My friend was of course more than understanding - offering her support and company. But we all know how bad I am at accepting that.

The unknown caloric content of my lunch was killing me. Even worse, later in the afternoon I ate a muffin that I had in the freezer. Now, many people would look at said muffin and say it was healthy- too healthy almost. Whole grain, no added sugar (sweetness came from carrots and raisins), small instead of bakery style, no saturated or trans fat... muffin of health freaks.

Not to me. It had x grams of sugar and x calories. It wasn't planned. It was unnecessary. Look- it made me gain x faction of a pound!

Another shameful admission: I probably weigh myself a hundred times a day. That's a conservative guess.

Every time I do check my weight I have to do so twice - you get different readings depending where on the floor you place the scale. I do it before and after meals, with a housecoat on, without a housecoat on, before I shower, after I shower, when I walk by it, when I'm leaving, when I come back....

I know I seem like a cargo truck of crazy now, but it's the reality. I know that fluctuations even up to 5 pounds are normal. Yet if a certain number is reached I flip.

So that keeps me down- guilt and depression and all other fun things I discuss.

However, there are some times when I can see the good - which I couldn't months ago. Today had moments of light and dark - but I'm going to try to end it thinking of the castles (metaphoric castles - referring to all of you people who I care about so much).

May you see castles instead of government offices and expensive hotels,

Peace love and veggies,

Alex

hypocrisy

Hi,

Today I looked through everything I posted yesterday. Later in the day a rush of guilt came over me.

I can't apply the things that I posted to myself.

I will defend people with mental illnesses passionately. I do not believe that it is due to character flaws. I believe people who suffer from these conditions should receive compassion and support.

Unless that person is me.

I've been trying to find out the reason why I hate myself so damn much. I know how irrational my beliefs are, but I can't get past them. I know it's not benefiting anybody. Here's an example of something Toar and I might discuss:

Toar: What is the purpose of you feeling guilty all the time?

Me: *long pause*........That I learn from mistakes....to ensure that I don't do anything wrong?

Toar: What have you done wrong to warrant that guilt?

Me: *long pause again*.....well, the whole suicide attempt thing.....and the fact that I wasted class afloat....and the fact that I developed an ED and depression when I have so many advantages....

Toar: What thoughts bring about feelings of depression?

Me: Umm....hopelessness?.....Guilt? Oh shit I see where this is going. Yes I know, this whole thing is cyclical...

Toar: Yeah you've got it....do I even need to say anything?

I get therapy. I speak therapy. I know the right answers. Why can't I believe that they're true?

I'm sorry for this whiney post everyone. It was a weird day today. I felt less zombie-like this morning. My seroquel dose it being reduced so that could cause it, but more than likely it's a placebo effect. Too soon to make a difference.

However, today I felt different. More emotional? Bah. Not exactly. More....conscious I'd say.

Consciousness...

I was able to do a couple chores today. Funny, this morning I was going nuts because I had nothing that I wanted to wear. Then I realized I hadn't done laundry in 2 weeks. The small mountain in the corner of my bedroom should have alerted me to this fact, but no.

Anyways, I knew I needed to get out of my apartment for a bit and get some "fresh air". Really I just wanted to walk - I find that if I walk I can think clearly. Anyways, I walked through the market to go on my usual route around the river.

The market was full of people. People munching on beaver tails. People chatting on patios. Some women around my age gushing over window displays. Little kids getting balloon animals. They were enjoying each others company. They were having fun.

I don't know what fun is.

On a couple of occasions I've been asked questions of this nature: "If you could create the best day of your life, where anything is possible, you're past is all behind you, what would you do? What would it look like?" and "Describe the last time you remember feeling really happy".

I didn't know what to say. Can most people answer these questions?

Don't get me wrong, there are things that I enjoy. I like bike riding (sometimes), spending time with my animals (almost always), spending time with people (on occasion).

But a perfect day? Meh. Going skydiving? Traveling to Asia? Becoming a rock star overnight (HAH!)?

Nothing really excites me - and realizing that makes me feel worse. I feel so guilty because if I wanted to I could make some sort of dream happen. True, I do have a dream to become a social worker...but social work isn't enough. It's a rewarding career that's for sure. However, you need something else in your life that will bring you happiness and joy.

I can appear candid and happy go lucky. I'm always joking and exhibiting little quirks that make me seem like a happy, albeit odd, person.

Here's my big secret: It's a mask. Yes I am an oddball with a decent sense of humour, but I am likely not "letting loose" so to speak when I do it. I feel I must contain those emotions, manage them. Then I won't do anything wrong, anything stupid.

Basically, I'm not allowed to be a typical 20 year old.

Many people who know me know that I don't drink/do drugs. It's funny - I am a huge supporter of legalization or at least decriminalization of illicit drugs, and I don't (well at least I think I don't) sit on a moral high horse looking down at my substance lovin' friends.

Though many would call this a healthy choice, I know many of my reasons for doing so are not. True, right now I'm on so many medications that playing around with drugs or alcohol could land me a trip to seizure-ville, not a place I want to be. There's also the memory of being a kid and being on morphine (after an eye surgery) and being frightened of my inability to make my body work as it should.

Drinking takes away the inhibitions you have while sober. It's called liquid courage for a reason. My immediate thoughts are "nope, no - I worked hard to build these walls around me and I ain't taking them down!". I'm too scared of doing something stupid.

My parents may have felt proud about my lack of rebellion. However, as a teenager I "acted in" instead of acting out. Funny, I actually had a counselor recommend sneaking out and getting wasted on the weekends. Never happened - I stayed at home and watched a documentary about world war II.

So I couldn't answer the first question - how about the second?

I believe I was a happy kid, but what made me happy then isn't exactly applicable now. The past 5 years I can't really remember much joy and excitement. I'm actually scared to show that I'm happy - trying not to smile or laugh out loud. I purse my lips and force my face to be straight. I used to actually cover my face with my hand when I laughed or smiled- but people told me how weird it was so I got self conscious and stopped.

I'm trying to think.

I spent time with friends and enjoyed that. Parties make me even more aware of my own social awkwardness so no happy there. Class Afloat? Some moments....

- The day we arrived in Vigo, Spain I remember being happy. I had just passed my lines test (the ropes that hold the sails- all have names and what not...had to memorize them). It was a huge weight off my back, as I didn't think I would be able to do it and then would have to spend the evening memorizing lines so I could leave to go on shore. I sucked at seamanship - I hated it. As someone so afraid of being wrong, and as someone who is somewhat (really) deficient in the visual spacial intelligence- I sucked. On a ship, you paid when you sucked. Grabbing or neglecting the wrong line could have disastrous consequences. Ship mates would yell angrily. Afterwords they told us not to take it personally. Hah. Telling me not to take someone yelling at me personally is like hitting someone repeatedly with a hammer and telling them not to scream. I once made the mistake of thinking one line could be simply released - it couldn't.

Man, I'm crying a little now remembering this incident. It was years ago - probably all forgotten. But I'm still so, so ashamed. This probably also seems like meaningless drivel to all of you. Anyways, by letting this line go, it made a boom (large metally thing under the sail.....if it drops it will go "boom") drop. A girl got rope burn. I'm not even sure if everyone knew it was me - which is scary cause now I imagine them reading this and thinking "It was YOU?" and hating me.

Cause I hate myself for it.

Anyways - WAY off on a tangent. My happy memory. So I get to go on shore. I am relieved of the pressure of passing that test and I found some people to willingly let me in their group *we had to have a group of four). I don't even remember what we did, but I remember skipping down the dock with a new friend singing a weird song about a cucumber.

See? even my good memories have all that baggage.

I hate to go off like this, especially after being bright sunshine and roses for the past few days. I've had so many people offer their support whenever I need it. I thank you all for that, and it would probably be a good idea for me to take you up on those offers.

But I probably won't. I won't let myself be that vulnerable. I'd rather cry alone then get tears and snot all over someones shirt.

Ok, are you all morose now? Most likely. Now please, go and look for cute animal pictures.

I'm going to go lie near Phoebe and just listen to her purr.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

I'd like to introduce you to the elephant in the room

Hey everyone,

I hope you all enjoyed the pictures. I found them from yesandyes.org, sayingimages.com and of course, http://cuteoverload.com.

Today had some exciting moments - I picked up Prairie Crocus and she rides like a dream and is just beautiful. I got an annoying storage related problem sorted out. I also did something that will be the focus of this blurb.

I posted the link to this blog on facebook.

I know it probably seems insignificant, as this is already a public blog in which any Internet creeper can come and learn the goings on of Alex. Posting it however, seems as though I'm advertising - I am inviting people to follow it. Before this I told a few people about it and hoped that someone would read it. Many did and continue to enjoy my witticisms (thanks y'all!). So why put it up for everyone to see? I will try to answer.

I am so tired of the secrecy, shame and embarrassment surrounding mental illness. I am at a point now where there isn't really a secret anymore - it is the infamous elephant in the room. Again on facebook, I've written both cryptic and humorous posts relating to my situation. If one really wants to know, they can pretty easily get the idea. For instance, if I announce that I've been out of the 'bin for x many weeks, most people will figure out that I'm referring to the loony bin = psych ward. I'm also guessing that at the end of high school when I was sent to ano-camp (really inappropriate term I use for eating disorder treatment) that most of my peers knew. The whole whole emaciated looking thing kinda gave it away, and so did the blanket I carried to class cause I was always cold and the school uniforms (or rather, my body) did not provide sufficient insulation. I don't think I could have made it any more obvious, except maybe if I wrote "ED" on my forehead with a sharpie. But then people would think erectile dysfunction and that's a whole other issue of secrecy, shame and embarrassment.

Ok - back to April 23rd, 2010

I feel a certain amount of guilt and shame for inviting around 200 people to read my deepest thoughts and feelings. I fear people will see me as pathetic, attention seeking, socially inept, melodramatic....see where I'm going with this?

Maybe it's true. Maybe this blog has a whiney, narcissistic and melodramatic. However -

Imagine I had cancer, had been in a car accident, got my face eaten by a mongoose....anything "physical". I could whine and rant and bitch and complain all day long and it wouldn't be judged the same way. Now I'm not trying to compare my situation to victims of cancer, car crashes or face eating, but you get the message.

There are many who believe that chemical imbalances don't exist. For example, when I visited my dad to Toronto, he asked about my medications. After I listed them off he said "Ya know Alex, there's a lot of people who believe this whole brain chemistry stuff is just a marketing ploy". I was tempted to be snarky and retort with "OK dad, I guess I'll just go off all my medications since they don't do anything". I didn't though- it wasn't something I wanted to fight over.

Anyways, the whole disbelief in chemical imbalances. For starters, every thought, emotion, behaviour and so on is a result of complex neural processes. Axons fire, neurotransmitters are released, action potentials, it's all a physical process. I won't get too into this cause I don't want you to get all existential and wonder if you really have a soul or are just a cluster of neurons - that's not what I'm getting at.

Bones break, DNA gets jumbled, fluid pressure kills the optic nerve....the amount that can go wrong in the human body is infinite. So why is it so hard for some people to believe that there could be something wrong with brain chemistry?

Perhaps anti depressants are over prescribed, and I am aware that drug companies play a big role in "marketing" depression. Perhaps we all just want a quick and easy solution to our problems. Just pop a pill and all will be ok.

Except it isn't.

Maybe we should be asking why so many of us experience depression, and not just jump to conclusions of character flaws like laziness. What is it in our society that's so....depressing? The conversation could go on forever, and can never be fully answered.

Here's what we do know: Feelings of sadness, hopelessness and all other lovely depressive symptoms are physiological processes. It doesn't matter what the trigger for these thoughts and feelings is, they are still happening. It's not the way a healthy brain works. It's hurting. We can't see it or take a blood test for it, but it's happening.

So I'm telling you what my experience is like. If more people are open about it we can figure out so much more about the causes and prevent or change our circumstances. We can also help each other.

We can't do it alone.

So now my story is "out there", and someone unexpected might read it. They may judge or criticize. They'll likely read a bit, get bored and leave. But maybe, just maybe, someone will read it and relate to it. If I can make anyone feel less alone, I will continue to write.

and I am one of those people, since writing to this vague audience makes me feel less alone. So the story continues.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Wear your crazy badge proud,

Alex

Oh

If you need an explanation for some of these photos (even though I think most are self explanatory) here we go:

The shocked looking lady is Mumsie. She is flabbergasted by the beautiful tulips in Pike's Place Market

The cotton swab represents rebellion, Alex style. What did I do with it? I STUCK IT IN MY FORKING EAR THATS WHAT! Damaged eardrums? Pfft.

I love platypusses

and cute animals

Anyways, I shall write something insightful tonight. Please enjoy today!

Peace, love and veggies,

Alex

I spent my afternoon looking these up and being inspired/overwhelmed by cute

moving forward

Hi everyone!

To be honest I don't have a lot to write about today, mainly cause this flu (that insists on haunting me) makes me unable to do much more than stay at home and eat popsicles.

Anyways

I did go see my psychamalobimabob (psychiatrist) today. Out of the five....oh wait six, psychiatrists I've been to I think he's the best. Not as into throwing drugs down my throught and is actually trying to reduce (!) my medications. I'm hopeful for that - being on eight different prescription medications is kind of overwhelming (not all of them are brain drugs - eye stuff too).

So that went well. He seemed to be impressed at how I designed my own recovery program. I was so close to going into a residential program (private clinic in he states or the Royal Ottawa). In fact, I made the decision not to go the day before I was supposed to catch a plane and leave.

So far I feel it's been successful. When you're in a treatment program you're in a little treatment bubble - then you have to deal with the big wide world afterwards. The place I was going to go to was in Arizona, so it's not like I could transition back into Ottawa life and do partial treatment - nope, they fix ya there and send you back. This wasn't the only reason I decided not to go (though it was the most compelling to Toar and my parents). There was a whole bunch of religious content in the program that didn't sit well with me. They told me "well, you don't have to believe in god, just believe in something". "Like what?" I asked. Some suggested the environment, animal rights, humanity etc. All things I believe in, but a little difficult to implement in the traditional 12 step program. Surrender my power to....the environment? I don't think mother nature wants that kind of responsibility, she's got enough on her plate.

Anyways, I (with the help of Toar) created my own "program". Some personal training, lots of therapy, some yoga, and so on. It's a much more realistic life than one at a treatment center. However, I have nobody to "force" me to do these things. It leaves the power up to me, which seems a little scary at times, but it is also critical in the whole recovery process.

So I make plans. Sometimes they work out and sometimes they don't. Every week I plan on going to yoga at least twice. I am lucky if I make it once (it's scary! There's other people there!). I don't always follow the meal plan I make, but I try my best. Anyways, people are impressed. I'm "moving forward".

I'm trying to carve out this new life that doesn't include all the self destruction as before. It frees up time for relationships, school, having fun (gasp!). However, it's been my life for as long as I can remember....so I have a lot of doubt whether or not I can ever truly "recover". I'm imagining a life where food restriction, calorie counting, self injury, self hatred....basically self destruction is neither present or an option. I still have moments when I want to badly to slip into them, as it's what I know and it's in a weird way comfortable. But if I let it continue it can and will kill me, January 6th 2010 (date of my suicide attempt) being a prime example.

Alright, enough for tonight. For all of you (ok, and for myself as well), I commit to push myself harder to do all the things I plan on doing - the stuff that'll help me along.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

what have I become, my Swedish friend?

Hello friendlies!

Yes, I do realize that the actual lyrics of Johnny Cash's "hurt" say my "sweetest" friend, not my "Swedish" friend - yet every time I listen to it that is what I hear. Though I hate to butcher a lovely song, it makes me laugh so it's worth it.

Anywhosit

I had a pretty good day today, which is always an event worthy of celebration. For starters, my flu is almost gone, and I didn't feel like I had to force food into my pie hole. Baby steps people, baby steps.

There are two big highlights of today, one being a personal victory and the other being a present to myself (well no, a belated birthday present from my dad, but I picked it out today).

So let's begin with the personal victory. I think I've mentioned the fact that I'm a people pleaser before. I try my best to be polite, thoughtful, accepting blah blah blah. All good qualities to have, until you end up like me. I don't do confrontation. I often find the easiest solution to a conflict is to say "you're right, I'm wrong, what do you think we should do".

This method doesn't always serve me to well, as there are (rare) occasions where I am right and know the best solution for the problem at hand.

So today I faced a challenge in assertiveness. Every Carleton Social Work student can empathize with this challenge, as it involved a certain degree of conflict with a particular school administrator. I don't want to bash anyone on this blog, but several people have had disagreements with said school administrator. I was scheduled to meet her to discuss practicum (student internship thingy) options for the upcoming school year.

Now let me explain that this is the second time I've applied for a third year practicum. I completed a little less than half of it last year, but then withdrew from it due to hospitalizations and a desire to make my life a little easier. Anyways, I have accepted the fact that I have to repeat this process. However, I was told a couple weeks ago (by this school administrator) that I would not be given credit for the 140 or so hours I had done in my previous placement. Obviously, I found this unfair and upsetting.

So I went there not only to discuss practicum options, but also to try and get credit for at least some of those hours. I was nervous, yes, but I knew it needed to be done. Anyways, I met with her and explained that it was "troubling" to think that those 140 hours were completed for nothing, and how I wasn't informed that withdrawal from the practicum would mean I forfeit all those hours. I also explained that reducing the hours would be helpful for my adjustment when I return to school. Oh yeah, she knows about all my mental health shenannigans, I think my dad may have told her. In fact, she and another school of social work administrator visited me (unannounced) when I was in the hospital to discuss my academic future. That was fun (awkward) - they came right after art therapy and I was covered in plaster dust. Anyways, that's another story....

Back on track: She agreed, and so now I have 280 hours instead of 360! I know it may not seem like a lot but I am happy to at least have gotten that. Also, the agency that we identified as my top choice seems like a pretty good fit - and it's also in walking distance! I'm happy to say that I left the meeting with a smile on my face and without any desire to physically assault someone - YAY!

Ok, now the present from Dudesie to Alex. I've been looking at this bike shop for a few months, and they had the most beautiful purple cruiser I'd ever seen. I came and visited this bicycle a few times, dreamed of riding her through the bustling streets and rugged trails (ok, not so much the rugged trails). Then I felt a sense of shame - I have a bike (her name is Olivia) that is also beautiful and works well- why another? It felt a little like bicycle adultery. However, I would chat about this bike to my parents, and my dad (probably out of frustration) told me if I wanted it I should just get it. So anyways, I went to the shop to purchase her (I had been in only days before). She was GONE. Somebody had bought MY bike. It was quite devastating (yes I am hyperbolizing, obviously for comedic purposes).

Anyways, today I decide to go window shopping in westboro village (where this particular bike shop is located). After strolling down the street and browsing a few shops I came close to this store, and some bikes were on display outside. There she was - Prairie Crocus.

It was love at first sight. I went into the shop, and the salesman said "you again! coming to admire the cruisers again are we?". I nodded my head and muttered "uh, yeah..." (Damn! I thought I was being discrete!). I pretended to browse their selection of chain lubricant and brain buckets (Alexian for helmet), and then I turned to the salesman and said "I'm kind of interested in the purple one outside". "Well you have been coming here every week for the past couple months" replied the salesguy. He then proceeded to unlock the display bikes and bring them in. I embarrassed myself by shouting "not THAT one" when he brought in the first display bike. He explained that they were all locked together and to show me one he had to bring them all in. Duh. Anyways, she was perfect, and within a few minutes she was mine. I'm picking her up tomorrow and riding her home, and am so, so excited!

Ok, so what can we learn today? Well for one, being assertive is key to things working out in your favour, and it doesn't have to be terrifying. Also, good things happen to those who wait (and also to people who creep bicycle shops). Any other morals of my ramblings that you can think of are always welcome!

So finally a good day- I'm going to savour it and try to keep that same spirit going for tomorrow. Sometimes in recovery having a good is kind of scary. For one it makes a future bad day even more disappointing. Second it gives some people the impression that everything is fine now. As everyone reading this blog knows, I've still got a boatload of issues to work on, and likely a bad day will be in my future. However, today showed me that it is possible.

Have a good day (or night) everyone, I mean that sincerely.

Peace, love and veggies,

Alex

fighting on the inside (WARNING: ALEX RAMBLE ALERT!)

Hello readers!

So I thought today my body would be ready to resume all of it's normal functions. It was not. This morning I woke up for an appointment with Toar, had some therapizing with Toar, and then got a couple groceries. Pretty simplish isn't it? Well, not with the horrible abdominal pains and overall blargedness (or "malaise" as the medical folk like to say). Mumsie was convinced that I have appendicitis. I told her that I know it's not - I watch a lot of mystery diagnosis and I used the symptom checker app- results, negatory.

Anyways, I've titled this post "fighting on the inside". This refers to many things, the most obvious being my immune system fighting off invading microbes. However, this is not a bog about Alex's battle with the stomach flu. If you've read enough of this you know that it is about confronting issues like depression, eating disorders, self care and so on.

As I mentioned in previous posts, there is a huge internal struggle when you're trying to recover from an eating disorder (or any destructive behaviour). I have been feeling it a lot over the past few days. Now you may ask, why these past few days?

Since Thursday I've been trying to recover from an annoying (but ultimately benign) flu. However, it makes it a little tricky when you're also recovering from depression and an eating disorder. I am constantly evaluating my actions and wondering which are motivated by a desire for health and wellness. So I am left wondering what should (or as Toar prefers, could) I do?

Here are some example scenarios

• I'm so nauseous and really don't want to eat. Should I just go with the flow and listen to what the bod tells me to do? Or should I attempt to ram food down my pie hole even if it makes me gag?
• I feel tired and weak and want to stay in bed. However, I always feel tired and staying in bed makes me isolated and increases depression. I think; I should be doing some physical activity instead! But then, what if that makes it (the flu) worse?

And so the fight continues

For the most part, the ED loves this whole being sick business. That little voice is screaming things like "Hell yes! You feel too sick to want to eat, and now food restriction can now be done with such ease!" and "Now you really know what it means to purge properly! Just recreate this in the future".

Of course, the ED also enjoys tormenting me for resting or trying to eat/drink a bit. It tells me I'm wasting an opportunity to lose weight without feeling hungry. It says that I can use the situation to explain weight loss to friends and family (who may be worried that the disorder has taken that direction again). Oh the guilt...

The satisfaction I get from going along with disordered thoughts and behaviours is very short lived, but the guilt and self hatred is ongoing. I know this, and it seems obvious to most people. However, I have to constantly remind myself to move towards health. I so often glamourize the time when I was really ill due to food restriction. I know the physical toll it took, from the lanugo to bradycardia, low WBCs to hair loss. However, I wish I could remember how it felt to have nothing matter but the disorder - to live my life with it always behind me, shouting orders and cracking a whip if I went against what it said. The ED likes to remind me that, although all of that is true, at least I was thin.

I've been following the path of self destruction for so long that it is comfortable and safe. Ultimately, you lose life going down it. It does not immediately lead to death (though it can and will) you lose bits of yourself going down it. You lose relationships, experiences....all the things that make life worth living. I can attest to this. I sailed around the world for a year and still chose this path.

Ultimately, it's change or die. Change terrifies me, but I am determined to try. I've only got one life and I might as well give the sunny, rainbow-y healthy path a try.

Come with me, I dare ya

Peace love and veggies,

you're very rambly Alex