Derealisation is awaking from ones dreams but its reality continues.
Its watching your world, your surroundings through a screen in your head, a portal between Neverland and the ground you walk. As if sleeping with the ability to look through the wardrobe to a reality you’ll question. I become so detached that my own home feels like new to me. E v e r y t h i n g… s e e m e d….. s o…… f a r……. o f f. Take a pair of binoculars in your hand and peer through their glass the wrong-way round and see the distance stretch away form you. This room is too far away to touch, to grasp, to hold, to know if I am really living among its setting.
The water glass sits in another realm to the chair I cling to. I reach out, and my hand touches the glass: there is no waging space between, It’s just there. And i know this, but i can’t get pass the lost weight over my feet, these invisible threads attaching you to this earth, is lost in me. I Bring the glass to my lips, and the distance between: my hand, the glass, my lips, is logically normal despite the illusion presented to me….and the distress kicks in, flooding panic!! “what is this, whats happening to me!!?”
Something rationalises within me, and it’s a phase i know will pass, maybe a few minutes, maybe hours, maybe a day or two, and all i can do is breath, and wait, and breath and wait.
I calm my panic, and listen to the distress, not acting on it, or heightening it, or adding its drive, just noticing and letting it pass. I hear you, and its strange, confusing, unbalancing you but you are strong and we know the games our mind plays. This trickery won’t last on you or me, so breath and endure and watch yourself grow through this.
An hour will pass and I breath, and I feel weight. The morning leaves and I feel the distances closing in and i feel the threads beneath my feet, I breath into the evening and i feel reality.
Sometimes it’s really hard being in your 20s and everyone’s going out drinking over the weekend while you’re in recovery. Especially if you’re new in recovery, like me. But I just keep thinking how it’s worth it. How finding sober alternatives are infinitely better.
Compulsive eating is basically a refusal to be fully alive. No matter what we weigh, we have anorexia of the soul. We refuse to take in what sustains us. We live lives of deprivation. And when we can’t stand it any longer, we binge.
DON’T hold onto clothes that fit your sick body but no longer fit your healthy body. That’s like holding onto your tricycle and periodically trying to switch back to it from the bike you ride every day. If you think it won’t trigger you, trust me - in a moment of weakness, it will and it’s just a matter of time so don’t even risk it.
DON’T hold onto friendships that are can potentially be triggering or toxic to you in any way. Unfortunately, this often includes people you’ve befriended in treatment but isn’t limited to it. This is a very important albeit difficult step to take but it’s time for you to think about YOUR health and wellbeing here. If it’s not part of the solution, then it’s a part of the problem. It’s not you being mean or cruel, it’s you making sure that you can live the ed-free and full life that you deserve.
DON’T hold onto your scale - food scales included! Your weight will fluctuate from day to day (as will the amount of food you eat) depending on a variety of factors and let’s face it - whether you’re just starting to recover or are almost there, having an ED-past and owning a scale just doesn’t add up to anything productive and can potentially be a trigger for a downward spiral in the future. I haven’t owned a scale in 5 years and my life hasn’t been negatively affected in the least - toss it and forget about it guys!
DON’T hold onto ED mementos (photos, diaries etc.) if they’ve ever served as a trigger for you in the past. If you have days when you’re feeling off balance and you tend to reach for your thigh gap pics from way back when to motivate unhealthy behavior - you need to get rid of them NOW. If when you feel sad you tend to re-read journal entries outlining your minuscule intake of ED-past and dwell on eating like a normal human being now - you need to toss out these journals and not look back. Clinging to the past is a direct link to potentially ending up right where you started so don’t go there.
“If I could do what I want I would become an electrician I’d climb inside my ears and I’d rearrange the wires in my brain A different me would be inhabiting this body Have two cars, a garage, a job, and I would go to church on Sunday
A diagram of faulty circuitry explains how I was made And now the engineer is listening as I voice all my complaints From an orchestra of shaking metal keeping me awake I was just wondering if there was any way that you made a mistake”
if you or anyone you know is currently struggling with opiate or substance abuse issues, has realistic goals, doesn’t swallow everything AA or NA says yet remains open-minded, and likes to chat… send them my way or hit me up, my inbox is open. i’d love to be able to hit someone up when i feel like using, and be there for them when they feel the same.
The day I recovered, I went out with my friends without having to check out the menu or find a ‘safe’ restaurant nearby on my laptop the day before. I just went out: had ice cream, pasta and pizza just like my friends and I had an amazing time.
The day I recovered, I decided to workout with a smile across my face laughing at the challenges I met along the way. I felt the joy of being both mentally and physically stronger. There was no dizziness, sleepiness or tears of pain. I paused my workout video to rest and I was able to continue when I was ready again.
The day I recovered, I went out to restaurants and was not the last one to order because I did not have to spend more time ordering my meal: asking for alternatives because I did not ‘like’ it or because I had ‘restrictions’
The day I recovered, I didn’t need to bug my mom about calling the airline for a low-salt meal because I was able to, without being anxious, spontaneously decide on what to eat when the flight attendant asked me. I chose what I wanted and did not spend hours searching and guess what might be on my plate during the flight.
The day I recovered, I spend my money on the things I liked and not just on food: clothes, make up and others. I did not spend hundreds buying ‘clean’ ‘healthy’ food just because there were nutritional labels or because it was healthier or lower in calorie. I could buy local foods without knowing the calories and did not solely rely my cravings on the numbers on the nutrition label.
The day I recovered, I felt the pain of being a women again. The cramps and the change of pads. The joys of eating massive portions and laugh at myself after. My body was able to use the food and did not need to eat away my muscles to survive. I could join in conversations with other girls/women about periods without having to fake that I was going through the exact same problem.
The day I recovered, I did not have to go to the hospital for check-ups: ultrasounds, gynecologist, psychologist, blood testing and weigh-ins. I could use the time to enjoy doing my hobbies and spend time with family and friends.
The day I recovered, I was not embarrassed in ordering something healthier or something different to other people. Instead, I stood up to myself and told the world that,
“I’m a recovered anorexic. I climbed mountains and failed. I wanted to die but I decided not to. I starved myself, I was scared of food. I went through tremendous pain both physically and mentally. But I’m proud of myself because today, the food on my plate, was what I wanted and not the demon inside my head.”