honesty is such a lonely word.

i had written this as part of a journal i'm keeping mostly related to my rheumatoid disease diagnosis.  no one on that website knows me in real life, unlike people who read this blog.  it's an easy way for me to write without worrying about what people i care for might think.  and it's turned into a good way to hide.   this entry is day ninety four since my diagnosis.  it seems like so much longer in so many ways; i don't remember what it's like to wake up without pain.  i don't remember what it's like to be able to go to the mall without having trouble walking around.  i don't remember what it's like to just sit still, reading or watching a movie, and not be in pain - even though i'm not moving.

i went to a psychologist for the first time in almost a decade yesterday.  i'm recognizing things in my life and thoughts that i do not like.  i have often glossed over some of my disordered eating, but over the past week i have spent more time thinking about food than i have spent thinking about anything else.  i think back to the days i was counting calories - how obsessive i would become.  save these breakfast calories so i can drink tonight.  save these lunch calories so i can go out to dinner later.  save calories every day this week so i can binge drink this weekend.  i don't drink any more, but neither do i count calories.  it becomes an obsession for me, counting calories in and out.  trying to determine exactly how many calories i've burned today - so i can have a bit more food and stay within my calorie goal.  

my behaviors vacillate back and forth, sometimes similar to an anorexic's behavior, sometimes similar to a bulimic.  i saw an episode of 'my strange addiction' where the girl took so many laxatives - common for some anorexic people.  i started wondering if that would work for me.  i scared myself.  i think i have a problem.

as billy joel wrote, 'honesty is such a lonely word'.  if i'm only honest with myself, how can i get help?

i am struggling.  just with everything.  i'm starting to fixate on my weight and thinking i have an eating disorder.  it's like i can't help what i eat or when i eat it.  yesterday i ate so much: cereal, coffee, apple, 12" sub, hot chocolate, salad, homemade veggie udon, organic chocolate graham crackers.  then today - well, i've been up for 12 hours and i've had a bowl of cereal, a latte, about two servings of pretzels, and a handful of tortilla chips and salsa.  i had a bit of a breakdown while interning today and it makes me feel like i can't do anything.  one of the counselors was giving me some feedback - nothing bad, nothing critical - and i just started crying and i couldn't stop.  thankfully, working in mental health is one place you can cry without knowing why and no one thinks you're crazy.

of course, i think i'm crazy.  

i wasn't hungry.  i was so busy and learning and doing and whatever that i didn't feel hungry at 3pm (yesterday by 3pm i had felt like i was starving on two different occasions and had already eaten a ton of food).  as soon as i calmed my crying down, i retreated to my office to try to make myself look more normal and all i could think about was eating.  i found myself planning - i had a rough day, i should get chinese.  maybe we should go out.  i deserve chips and salsa when get home.  maybe i should stop and get another latte.  maybe hubby will want to get sushi.  ooh, maybe we can go out AND get ice cream.

all i could think about was food.  it's still happening now.  i had a bad afternoon - i want food.  the same way an alcoholic says 'i had a bad day, i'm going to stop and have a drink'.  and like an alcoholic, i can't stop at one.

i stopped doing drugs in 2001 - 12 years ago.  i have 10 months alcohol free.  i've been fat since 1998, after i was homeless and before my first nervous breakdown.  since then, i've just put on more and more weight.  i'm probably the only person in the history of forever who *didn't* lose weight while abusing cocaine.  i used to justify my use all the time - and now here i am, justifying my eating.

i've changed my diet before.  i stopped drinking regular soda - cut over 2000 liquid calories out of my diet EACH DAY - and lost no weight.  i tried a low calorie diet - 1200cal/day.  my body couldn't handle it - it wasn't enough.  i started getting sick and having trouble staying awake during the day.  i went 90% vegetarian, cut out a huge percentage of processed food, eat organic when i can, don't use white sugar or flour, omfg so many things.  i even cut my cheese consumption.  and i still can't lose weight.

i've looked into bariatric surgery.  i'm terrified of it. i'm terrified of the recovery - i'll have a damn pouch.  i'll never be able to go to our favorite steakhouse and enjoy an 8oz filet again.  which i don't do often - every other month or so.  food is our thing - my husband and i love to eat, love certain restaurants.  and while i might eat out and have one 'bad' meal a week, that can't ruin the other 6.5 days, right?

i used my insurance website to look for psychiatrists who treat eating disorders.  none of them are accepting new patients (this is when i went into overdrive eating chips and salsa.  i'm not hungry right now, but i'd eat them if i wasn't typing.).  i want a doctor who will prescribe me controlled substances to help me lose weight... oh, but most won't because i'm a recovering addict.

now, let's add mtx, enbrel, and all the shit that comes with RA to that pile.  i am a hot fucking mess right now and it's making me so depressed.  my obsessive thoughts are coming back.  i have more headaches.  i'm depressed and anxious and want drugs, alcohol, food.  food, mostly.  because it's easiest to get food.  i can eat food without people being disappointed in me.  if i scored coke or bought alcohol, so many people would be sad.  so many people would be disappointed in me.

if i went to friendly's and ordered a five scoop sundae with double hot fudge, oreos, whipped cream, and sprinkles?  not so much.