I always think about writing my memoir. It’s honestly the most important thing that I want to accomplish in my life. I’m not saying I want it finished and published now (I’m 21, and I don’t want to jump the gun by writing about all my “trials” and “tribulations” when I’m not even old enough to rent a car) but I need to at least write something about now so I don’t forget. In a way, I want to forget, but for the sake of writing, I can’t.
I’m having trouble sleeping unless I binge and purge. Literally, I’ve taken Xanax (prescribed by my psych, thankyouverymuch), Tylenol Pm, sometimes a combo of the two (bad, I know) to help me sleep at night. Even if I fall asleep, I wind up waking up in the middle of the night and can’t fall back asleep unless I binge and purge. Sometimes, laying in bed at night after purging, I hope that my heart will stop beating in the middle of the night. I don’t think I want to die, but living like this is complete hell in itself. I don’t want to go into treatment again. I’ve been there 3 times and absolutely NOTHING changed for me. I’m not saying anything about the programs themselves (well…maybe the one I went to in Milwaukee. I definitely won’t be giving their Ed program 5-stars), but about my motivation. The only time I’ve gone into treatment or wanted to go into treatment was to stop bingeing because I was scared of weight gain. With this as a motive, there’s really no way one can recover from their eating disorder. I don’t regret any of the treatments I’ve been to, as I’ve met amazing people and have learned something from each place I’ve gone to, but honestly, going into treatment again (and when I say “treatment”, I mean either an IOP, PHP, or IP program. I’m seeing a therapist roughly every two weeks and a psychiatrist about once a month, but I don’t consider myself to be “in treatment”) would be a colossal waste of time. I have enough self-awareness to know that without the motivation to truly get better, the best therapists and eating disorder programs in the world won’t be enough to help.
And that’s another thing. If bulimia is making my life so miserable, why WOULDN’T I want to recover? My only answer: it’s complicated. As much as I hate it…as much as it makes me feel out of control, as much as I worry about not being able to purge everything and gaining weight, as much as it exhausts me, dehydrates me, makes my throat sore, sucks up my time and money, I get something from it. Obviously. People don’t do something like this to themselves if they don’t benefit it some way. With Ed, my mind shuts off for a while. I have something to do when I’m pissed, sad, tired, or even happy. I have excuses for why I’m depressed (“I binged and purged today”). In a sick way, it gives me somewhat of a superiority complex: “What do they expect? I’m suffering from an eating disorder…give me a break!” and things of that nature.
