operation no math = success!

Hey everyone,

So today I have no idea how many calories/grams of sugar/grams of fat I've consumed. I haven't stepped on the scale (or the Wii fit body test).

I got to just...be.

It's so fun and exciting and scary and liberating. So much more time to think about things other than my weight/diet. I had to stop myself from reading a couple labels and examining myself to make sure I could still feel bone (I know....but old habits die hard). However, I recognized what I was doing and stopped.

I went and browsed a bookstore, got a mocha frappuccino, met up with a friend, took a random nature hike/adventure.

I got to think about my future in a positive way. I thought about philosophy, art, random facts, goofy inside jokes, relationships, the environment. My eating disorder could hardly whisper.

So, here goes another math free day! Wish me luck- this feels amazing!

Peace, love and veggies,

Alex

Math free day! Hooray!

Hey everyone,

Not a long post tonight, but I needed to inform you all about an exciting adventure I am going to partake in. I am not going to let myself calorie count or weigh myself.

I know, sounds easy. However, I haven't had a day like this since....I can't remember.

I hate math, and this eating disorder thing reaffirms that belief.

Have a happy math free day, I know I'm going to try to!

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

New directions

Hey pals,

I know I've neglected this blog in the past week, and I have no good excuse except for the fact that I was working (IE: procrastinating) on my film analysis. Of course there are other bits and pieces in life that I won't bore you with now (but probably will later).

No news too exciting in the life of Alex - the eye doctors told me the same thing - your retina's detached and the only thing we can do is place silicone oil to support it, but there's a squillion reasons why we shouldn't, so see you again in a week. Argh.

Oh, and speaking of my eye doc visit, I got another one of those lovely unsolicited counselling sessions. How? Well imagine this scenario:

My eye doctors are standing in front of me, one is a resident and one an attending, both are named Dr. Leonard and are very tall (but are apparently not related). Anyways, they tell me all of this eyeball information, and then suddenly Dr. Leonard (attending) says to Dr. Leonard (resident):

"You know, she has depression"

Dr. Leonard resident says "Oh...."

Then Dr. leonard attending says to me "Do you know about Winston Churchill? He was clinically depressed".

Wow, thanks! That totally changed my life, now I can do anything! YAY!

Yeah no.

Anyways, that is that. Oh, academic wise it's been a bit of a shitnic this week. I have to retake all the courses I took in the fall. I was under the impression that I'd get credit for at least one class, but sadly that won't be so. They will be talking to the registrars office to get that D- off my transcripts (it hurts my soul to look at it). Oh well, as they say in finding Nemo, just keep swimmin'.

You may be wondering why I titled this blog entry "new directions". No it is not a Glee reference (though I am a fan), I didn't have any major epiphanies about life in the past week, and I'm not moving to an eco village.

I love writing this blog, and I love writing in general. For these past months I've focused on my various "issues", and now I finally want to focus on more than that. I am going into social work, which is a very emotionally challenging career. I want to document my journey of going from a client/patient role to the worker role. I want to be able to share all that I have learned from my experiences and connect with the people work with. I want to figure out how to apply all the lessons I've learned from fuckedupedness.

So I am going to try to relate this blog to my social work practice. Of course I won't be giving away information that could threaten the confidentiality of any people that I work with, but I want to discuss the thoughts and feelings that arise for me as I explore this field. I want to do this for so many reasons. The main reason is to give myself a chance to reflect upon where I've come from, what I'm doing now, and what I want to become. I need to be aware of all that comes up, especially since I'll be doing a reflection type piece at the end of my practicum. I never want to forget where I have been. And of course, I wouldn't want to forget about my adoring fans!

Haha. Anyways, I'm going to sign off, but just consider this shift. I'm excited.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

life and a mini film analysis....

Hello Readers,

Sorry for the week long hiatus, but once I describe the week I've had I think you'll understand. I don't know how exactly to organize the recent "events", so here's a few key points

- My eye is fucked

Yes, I know I write a lot about this, but of course it's still an unresolved problem. I told you how my retina has again detached and then how it reattached. Due to this my surgery was cancelled, but I was told to keep it easy and wait a week to check in on it.

So I waited.

Bright and early Tuesday morning I went back to the eye institute. A resident did my initial evaluation, and quickly I realized something was up. Here were the clues:

A) The once friendly resident stopped speaking to me

B) She took a long time to evaluate my eyes

C) She went and got other residents so they could have a look.

Of course, none of the other residents offered insight. They just wanted to see a rare, complicated and exciting case. Aren't I special?

Anyways, my doctor eventually comes in and tells me that my retina has a "fold" , caused again by fluid accumulation and release. Basically, fluid would accumulate (causing my retina to detach) and make the retina stretch, then go away, creating the fold. Anywho, what it means is that my retina needs more support than it's currently getting. The procedure to correct this is relatively simple and not nearly as serious as my last surgery - basically they place a bubble of silicone oil in the eye to support the retina.

Easy! Done! Fixed!

But

You knew there was a "but" didn't you?

The silicone oil can cause my body to reject my transplanted cornea and can clog the shunts in my eyes. These complications can be corrected, but it would entail more surgeries....more painful, slow healing surgeries.

So I am questioning whether or not I want to go through with this. My eye barely even responds to light, and it is unlikely to regain any sort of usable vision. I am starting to feel like it's come to a point where you have to ask if it's worth it.

I told my mum this and it resulted in an argument. She's convinced that if I let it deteriorate that I will get sympathetic opthalmia (autoimmune disease where your body attacks the "good" eye when the other eye has experienced trauma) and go completely blind. This is unimaginably rare, and I have no evidence that I am more at risk.

Still, my mum accused me of being impatient and immature for questioning this.

Argghh, I was supposed to make this whole thing point form! I'll try again

- The administrators who promised me certain accommodations earlier this year are not doing what they said they would. I was going to get the "D-" removed from my transcripts (for a course I was unable to complete due to hospitalization). It is still there, and I lost my scholarship. Also, it is time to choose courses and I don't know what I am supposed to do in regards to that.

- goddamn ED, as usual

- Had a panic attack after class last night. I had to sit down in the hall to collect myself. My prof came out of the room, saw me and asked "Are you ok Alex? Why are you sitting by the garbage? I responded (very awkwardly) "uhhh, yeah....just arguing with someone.....on my cell phone..." then I walked away. Humiliation? Check. My prof probably now thinks that I plan to do a surprise ambush attack outside of the classroom.

- Life in general.

- Things that I don't even feel comfortable blogging about.

Anyways, that is how things are going. I think I expressed my emotions along with all the "points", so I won't be redundant.

Ok, film analysis. For starters,my class was assigned a film analysis on a move involving drugs. We were given a list to choose from, and I chose requiem for a dream. Definitely one of the more depressing choices (I could have done Harold and Kumar go to Whitecastle), but the way addiction is portrayed resonates so strongly that I had to choose it.

First of all, does everyone know what a requiem is? It's a mass/ceremony held for somebody who has died. Keep the title in mind as I explain.

Here's the plot (thanks wikipedia!)

Plot

The film charts three seasons in the lives of Sara Goldfarb (Ellen Burstyn), her son Harry (Jared Leto), Harry’s girlfriend Marion Silver (Jennifer Connelly), and Harry’s friend Tyrone C. Love (Marlon Wayans). Each character is ultimately destroyed by addiction and self-delusion.

The story begins in summer. Sara Goldfarb, an elderly widow living alone in her Brighton Beach apartment, spends her time watching infomercials on television. After a phone call announces that she will be invited to be a participant on a game show, she becomes obsessed with matching her appearance to a photograph from Harry's graduation, her proudest moment. In order to fit into her old red dress, the favorite of her deceased husband, she begins taking a regimen of prescription weight-loss amphetamine pills throughout the day and asedative at night. The pills alter her behavior, but she passionately insists that the chance to be on television has given her a reason to live. However, her invitation does not arrive over the fall, and she begins to up her dosage, causing nightmarish hallucinations, where she is the principal subject of the game show.

Her son Harry is a heroin addict. Together with fellow addicts — his friend Tyrone and his girlfriend Marion — he enters the drug trade in an attempt to realize their dreams. With the money they make over the summer, Harry and Marion hope to open a fashion store for Marion's designs, while Tyrone dreams of escaping the street and making his mother proud. However, at the beginning of fall, Tyrone is caught in the middle of a drug gang assassination, and Harry uses the majority of the money they've earned to bail him out of jail. Meanwhile, because of the arrests and shootings of dealers, it becomes very hard to obtain any drugs, throwing Harry, Tyrone, and Marion into a state of deprivation. Growing more desperate, Harry convinces Marion to get money from her psychiatrist by having sex with him in exchange for money, causing a rift in the relationship. Marion begins prostituting herself and Harry's arm is now severely infected from unsanitary injection techniques.

Sara's sanity unravels after she visits the TV studio and she is put in a mental institution, where she undergoes electroconvulsive therapy. Harry and Tyrone travel to Florida, where they believe they can start over, but Harry's deteriorating condition forces them to visit a hospital in South Carolina, where they are arrested for skipping bail. Harry is taken to a prison hospital due to his arm, which is amputated. Tyrone must deal with racist prison guards, hard labor, and drug withdrawal alone. Harry has a recurring dream of Marion waiting for him at the pier at Coney Island, but awakens and realizes that he is alone, missing an arm, and in jail. Marion meets with a pimp, with whom she has sex in exchange for drugs, and who puts her in sex shows to pay off the debt.

Lost in misery, each character curls into a fetal position. In Sara's dream, she wins the game show's grand prize and meets Harry there. In her fantasy, Harry is a successful businessman and engaged to Marion. Mother and son hug and say how much they love one another through the cheers of the crowd and the glowing stage lights.

[edit]

Ok, we all sort of get the point? No? Yes? Oh well.

An eating disorder shares a lot of similarities to addiction. Self mutilation does to a certain extent, but not as much as an ED.

You are at a place in time where you feel disconnected- like you don't belong. You crave acceptance, safety, support....but you cannot get it.

You search for what is keeping you isolated, and you come to the conclusion that the problem comes from within. Something about you needs to change.

So you go on a quest to loose weight. You do research and make a plan. You start the plan.

The sight of numbers going down on the scale and the feel of your clothes hanging off you gives you a momentary high. You start getting compliments, which also gives you a high and increases your determination to continue with your behaviours.

You begin to live for these moments, believing that if you continue on, someday you will be accepted, loved, admired.....happy.

This is a delusion, as those feelings cannot be achieved by disordered eating behaviours. You are like a donkey pulling a cart, and the ED is dangling a carrot in front of you. You get the occasional nibble, but it is almost always just out of reach.

The compliments turn into concern, but in your mind they are the same thing. Your world becomes narrow, following the dream that you were promised.

In the end you become completely powerless, curled up in the fetal position like the addicts portrayed in this film. You wonder how you ever got to this place.

I've had too many of those moments.

Being admitted to a psych ward a day after my thirteenth birthday

and then again a month later

Having friends stage a quasi "intervention" cause I've stopped eating and am scaring the shit out of them

Being examined by a doctor at the eating disorder clinic, having her note my low blood counts, lowered heart rate, and small fur coat of lanugo

Being told I might go into heart failure, kidney failure (as if I didn't feel enough like a failure) and am just below the line where hospitalization is necessary

Having my last day of high school happen months before everyone else, as I are being sent to treatment

Getting kicked out of treatment for not gaining a set amount of pounds in a set amount of time

Psych ward again, years after I swore I was "over" all my issues

Trying to end my life....obviously not succeeding

Ok, you guys get the picture.

However, unlike the people in the film, my story doesn't end there. I am know searching for what I dream of but cannot take the path I've come to know.

This is getting to be so erratic and confusing, so I 'll stop writing here. All I can say is that I'm trying to find my way.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

emotional roller coasterish

Hey readers,

So the past few days have been....odd.

Last week I wrote about receiving the news that my retina has once again detached and that I would require another surgery (another vitrectomy) this week. Please note that I didn't say "may" or "could". In fact, the doctor I saw on Thursday was willing to do the operation on Monday.

Instead I chose to wait for my usual retina surgeon, since he is apparently the best retina surgeon in Canada. Plus my eyeballs are complicated little buggers, and I don't want just anybody poking around in there. So I waited for him to arrive on Tuesday and then schedule me in for surgery Wednesday or Thursday.

Obviously, that didn't happen. My mum dropped everything to fly across the country and take care of me after the surgery (I told her not to but that's how she is) and arrived Tuesday morning. Shortly after she arrived I was called in to the eye institute so my surgeon could get a look. Apparently, my retina had detached last week due to fluid accumulation underneath it. However, when I saw my surgeon on Tuesday the fluid was gone and my retina was reattaching, YAY!

Not so fast guys, it's not over and it's not all sunshine. He said that the retina was straned and tight (but luckily not torn or full of holes). I'm supposed to wait a week and then get it checked again. During this time I'm not allowed to do any physical activity other than walking - so no yoga or cycling. I will probably need more "work" done on my eye next week, but not as severe as my previous surgery.

I could have left that appointment feeling relieved, but my surgeon said something that hit a raw nerve so to speak. When describing other procedures I may need, he told me that I "won't need to call for mommy" again because these procedures don't require much after care.

I was so humiliated.

I hate being dependent. I hate feeling vulnerable. Most of all, I hate feeling like a crybaby. I pride myself in handling situations with grace and independence. That simple, seemingly benign statement went against this.

Today in my sociology of addictions class we were discussing how our society views drug addicts as childish, irresponsible and unable to make decisions for themselves. Though I haven't suffered from addiction in the traditional sense, I have had these views placed upon me. I experienced this during my psychiatric hospitalizations and my 3 month day patient eating disorder treatment. Leaving those experiences behind me meant independence and self reliance, and when that's challenged....it hurts.

Anyways, I reacted emotionally to this statement. I got angry at my mum for coming. I felt embarrassed for telling people that I needed surgery and therefore getting undeserved sympathy. I was so angry at everyone, but especially myself. My mum drove me home in silence. When we arrived at my building I told her that I wasn't angry with her but I just needed time alone. So she drove off and I curled up in bed, trying to shut the world out.

I couldn't think of how to cope with how I was feeling, so I turned to the old reliable method. I decided that I would fast for a few days - starve out my feelings and punish myself for complaining and drawing too much attention to myself. I wrote reminders of how horrible, ugly and worthless I was and saved it on a word document (to be printed out and put on my mirror when my mum left).

Anyways, the crisisy feelings past, I spent the night with my mum and she left early this morning. I told her over and over how sorry I was for treating her that way and how grateful I was that I had someone in my life who was willing to fly across the country at a moments notice to be with me. Oh the guilt....I still feel guilty about that.

Today I woke up and decided to go against the plan to fast. If I hated being treated like I was incapable and childish, starving myself was just going to make that worse. I was still upset and ashamed and uncertain, but that's not enough to make me give in.

I don't know what next week will bring, but I'm trying the best with what I have.

That's all I have to ramble on about today- I'll continue the 50 questions later- pinky swear!

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

50 questions to free your mind...this took me awhile!

Hi everyone,

Yesterday I was told that my retina had detached again. I am going in for another surgery next week. It will be the same procedure, but they will use silicone oil as a retina "splint" (they used a bubble of gas last time). The advantage of this is that silicone oil lasts forever and won't dissolve like a gas bubble, giving the retina long term support. The disadvantage of this is also that silicone lasts forever, so I will need another surgery to remove it in the future.

I'm definitely feeling frustrated and defeated. I had worked so hard to heal from my last surgery, and now I have to do it all over again. I don't want to start asking "why me" because A) Why not me? and B) This is minor compared to what many other people face. I've come to accept that big ole' blue on the right side of my face probably won't make it as long as I do. I am used to monovision, so sight loss wouldn't be the end of the world. However, I realize that my "good" eye also has some problems, and it could possibly go down the same path....

Blindness....I've been thinking about it a lot. It's brought up so many thoughts - Will I be able to be independent? Will I miss the beauty the world has to offer? How will people treat me differently? How will I treat myself? Will my weight and size matter? Will I still have body image issues?

What would it be like to judge a person not by their physical appearance? Will it strip away the unconscious bias within me? If so, I would feel so lucky.

Anyways, I've been wanting to will out these questions for awhile. Sometimes it's easier to get in touch with yourself when we have prompts. I'm going to answer 5 of the "50 questions to free your mind", and will try to slowly complete them in my posts. Here we go!

-----

These questions have no right or wrong answers.
Because sometimes asking the right questions is the answer.

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

Physically, I look like I'm 15. Emotionally....probably 80.

Which is worse, failing or never trying?

In my experience, never trying. That being said, my fear of failure is far greater than the fear of not trying.

If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do?

I hate to use someone else's words, but I think Eleanor Roosevelt had it figured out - "happiness is not a goal, it is a by product". We all have dreams and goals to strive for, and we focus our time and energy to achieve them. Some people work too hard o earn more money so that one day they can buy the things they want and be happy. Some people (like me) will tell ourselves that happiness can only be achieved at a certain size. In many instances we are left unsatisfied.

Not that making goals or having dreams is a bad thing. However, if you only focus on the outcome and aren't able to enjoy the process you can't truly be happy. Let me think of examples of each...Ok. I dream of becoming a social worker and helping other people in times of turmoil. I enjoy the process of achieving this dream- learning about the subject is something I like. Granted, I get frustrated with it sometimes and am not usually keen on exams or papers....but I still think the positive outweighs the negative.

My ED exemplifies this questions so easily- I want to achieve a certain body size/shape/weight, but must torture myself to get there.

So how can I really answer this question? People do it because they are convinced that through enough effort and sacrifice we can achieve happiness/acceptance/whatever you truly want. Sadly we are misguided, as no prize can be grand enough to make up for a life wasted.

When it’s all said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?

Probably- but I don't think that is always a negative thing. Your ideas and perspectives can inspire others, and that is how you create a social movement!

What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world?

This sounds really broad and anarchist, but I want to eliminate power and replace it with cooperation
-----

Ok guys, that's enough thinking for now.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

suspicious

Hey followers.

I wish I had written in the days leading up to yesterday. I was doing ok....dare I even say "good"? It would have been a lot more uplifting for you all to read. I guess the problem is that I only want to write during times of intense emotion, and my "ok" or "good" days don't inspire me as much. So what I'm saying is....don't assume I'm always doing poorly because that's what I write about.

That being said, yesterday/today have been stressful. I went in for my 6 week post op appointment. As usual, a resident doc is the first to see me. Fair enough. However, she takes forever and doesn't give me any information (IE: my eye pressure, how my retina is, how my cornea graft is). She then goes (for a long time!) and gets another resident to poke around. Again, no information. He leaves and I can here the eye doctor gang chatting outside the door for a long time (but I couldn't make out what they were saying). Then my glaucoma specialist comes in, pokes my eye ball a bit more, then tells me that my retina looks "suspicious". He then directs me down the hall to see the retina specialist. I get there and the receptionist tells me the retina specialist isn't available and they'll call be back soon and get me an appointment within a week. So I went home.

Today the eye institute phoned to tell me that even though the retinal specialist was in meetings all of tomorrow, he can meet with me after hours.

My appointment tomorrow can't come soon enough. I have so many questions and no answers. What the hell does "suspicious" mean (in regards to a retina)? A friend of mine said it made her imagine my retina dressed in black, sneaking around. It could mean so many things- and not knowing is what's killing me. "Suspicious" could mean something minor like a small tear or complication from the surgery (which can easily be fixed). It could even be something so tiny that the other doctors weren't even sure if it was significant or not. But why wouldn't they say that? When I was diagnosed with a retina detachment my glaucoma specialist told me about it right after he examined me....So why couldn't he tell me now? Why couldn't anyone tell me anything?

I don't want to jump to conclusions. It's frustrating- I've been dealing with my eye condition my entire life, and I've been given a lot of bad news. I can deal with bad news, there isn't any information that I need to be protected from. Again, it could be an abnormality that they were unsure about......but I'm still left wondering.

Oh, and don't google "suspicious retina" unless you want to convince yourself that you are dying of intraocular melanoma.

I guess I'll see (no pun intended) what tomorrow brings.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex

Who is speaking?

I have been sitting on my bed staring mindlessly into space for the past few minutes...

....pause again.....

I have found myself unable or unwilling to make any decisions, so I do nothing.

.....pause......

Today should (No! I shouldn't use the word "should") have been a good day. I met up with a friend I had not seen in a long time and had a lovely, long and interesting conversation over coffee on the patio. As someone who tends to isolate, this is rare and awesome.

Then I got home.

I realized I hadn't eaten for over 6 hours, and ate a whole bunch of food that was less nutritious (yet equivalent calorie wise....peanut butter and marshmallow fluff on toast) and went at it.

Is this a binge, or a normal reaction to not having food for six hours? Is this the eating disorder or is it me?

I don't know.

Then I realized the time, almost 4. I had planned to attend a yoga class at 5:15.

Then I started to feel the effects of being out in the bright sun for so long....I was (am still) exhausted. I was all hot and sunburnt. I did not want to go and do poses with strangers and get overheated. I wanted to relax and enjoy the wonders of air conditioning.

Yet I had to ask myself- am I just using heat exhaustion as an excuse? Am I just putting off yoga because I don't want to be around other people?

I still don't know.

I just sat there, trying to make a decision until so much time had passed that the decision was made for me.

Since then I've felt guilty. I am berating myself for everything I do. I decided to watch a movie I had rented on my laptop. I slipped into my bed and turned it on. Then I began to critique myself - why are you in bed? You're just perpetuating the depression. This is what you do when you're depressed. Stop." I then got out, made my bed carefully and turned the movie back on. I liked the movie, but it felt like I was doing something wrong. I felt like I was back in high school skipping class instead of an adult who made the decision not to go to a drop in yoga class.

I wanted someone to tell me it was ok- I wanted to stop feeling guilty. I tried to fight the thoughts...but I couldn't. I stopped watching the movie.

I thought about other situations where I cannot tell where the behaviour came from. I don't drink. Is it a healthy choice? Having used unhealthy coping strategies in the past, I can easily see myself becoming an alcoholic. Also, nowadays I literally cannot drink because combined with my medications it could result in a seizure.

However, I have other not so healthy reasons. For starters, alcohol is empty calories. However, I am scared the most of losing my inhibitions. I could/would make a fool out of myself. I might even allow myself to order food...

So I don't. I make excuses and stay alone in my apartment. Eventually if you do that enough, people stop asking.

So I am alone, with only a disorder to keep me company.

It keeps me locked away so I can eat foods that I prepared and feel comfortable with. Food that I know has x amount of calories. It forces me to jump on the scale over and over. Sometimes when I feel especially vulnerable, I don't even want to drink water for fear of causing a higher number. How warped is that? When I manage to go out to a resteraunt, I convince myself that the world is somehow conspiring to make me fat. I order a diet coke and am convinced it's a regular coke and they're just tricking me.

I want this to be over so badly.

Anyways, I'm going to go put something on my fried skin.

Peace, Love and Veggies,

Alex