Living with mental illness is a shit. Whether that illness comes from nature or nurture is neither here nor there. Through the course of the illness, you learn ways to manage distress and those ways are frequently unproductive. Often numbing.
I’ve been quiet on here for a little while. I’ve been quiet everywhere for a little while. I have been in a period of significant restriction.
Now, I have talked endlessly about body image at different times. It is something I have struggled with my entire life. As my journey of recovery took on an upward trajectory in the past 15 months, I worked on the acceptance thing. Trying to accept myself as is, right now. I hear other people do this and it’s good for you.
It takes six little words feeding the eating disorder voice, to override a year of conversations nurturing the timid voice of recovery.
Same old, same old. Neither better nor worse. I feel my depression has sunk pretty low and I spent a lot of today mapping out “exit” strategies. But I also communicated this with the registrar and have requested to have my dose of pristiq increased. She’s also modified my leave to “escorted” which is fine by me.
We all have physical hunger and we all need to feed it. The body needs nourishment in order to function. Feed it badly, it will treat you badly. Feed it well and you’re on the road to good health. If you’ve nourished your body regularly over the years, you experience appropriate hunger cues. Haven’t eaten? Your belly will grumble. Overeaten? You’ll feel uncomfortable – and stop eating.
At a support group last year, however, one lovely lady mentioned something I’d never been told before. Something I’d never considered. You’re bingeing because you restrict, she said. I thought that was hilarious.
Today I had a desperate, desperate urge to restrict. It was really important to me. I nearly did. I ate breakfast. Then […]
