Guilty

So I have been thinking about one of the reasons my car accident bothered me so much. Besides the fact, obviously, that I damaged my new car (estimate is $6500 and two weeks to repair) and rescrewed up my back, and could have damaged someone's kid (although HE hit ME).

The point of this blog is to be honest about my thoughts/experiences in recovery and finding myself, and this is a topic I haven't discussed before.I hope no one thinks less of me for saying this, and I'm not quite sure how to articulate it, so please bear with me.

But part of me almost feels cheated that I made it out.

How horrible is that? There are people with terrible illnesses and horrible lives that are fighting every day to cling on with some small spark of hope, and here I am lamenting the fact that I'm here and intact.

Confession: I have never made an attempt on my own life, but for a long time I wished I was brave enough to do it. The main things that prevented me from trying were 1) my mom, it would have destroyed her, and 2) fear of a not being successful. I wasn't afraid of dying, I was afraid of surviving an attempt and dealing with the repercussions afterwards.

Now please do not worry, I'm describing how I felt when I was at my sickest and most hopeless. I am NOT a danger to myself right now. I'm at the best place I have been in years. I'm just trying to be candid about what went through my mind in past times.

Things have gotten better, especially as I've moved through recovery. But I won't deny that even in recent months I have sometimes though about how much easier it would be to just quit, to just not be anymore. I don't believe in an afterlife, which doesn't bother me; many times I have thought that the quiet, peaceful nothingness has seemed like an ideal alternative to the stresses and anxieties of daily life.

Even when I didn't have plans/will/guts/motivation to do something to myself, sometimes I wished I would be "lucky" enough for something to happen to me. I'd hear about a plane crash, and immediately wish I had been on it. I'd hear about a car going off a bridge, and wish it had been mine. I'd hear about a random shooting or mugging, and wish it had happened to me instead. Surely the people it actually happened to didn't deserve it, so why couldn't it have been me, me who was wasting my life anyway and just wanted to take a f*ing rest? I was already dying: anorexia basically kills you a little bit every day. I guess I just wished something would happen to speed it up for me.

Now that I'm regaining more and more of my life, I have those thoughts less and less. I have more energy to be excited about my work. I'm in a relationship. My ties with my family are broader and deeper than ever. I have tons of things to look forward to, and I like the new me that I am uncovering, piece by piece.

But...

But I have to admit that some small, sad part of me was actually disappointed on Friday afternoon, when I saw the flash, heard the crunch, felt the impact, waited....then realized that I was OK, and had missed an opportunity to check out.

I think that's part of the emotional release I had a few hours later. Realization that I'd come close, but no cigar. Trying to process the fact that I hadn't really felt relieved when I realized I was OK. And even though I've come so far, grown so much, made so much progress, I still couldn't sort out whether I was glad or disappointed. Disgusted with myself for even thinking like that.

I may or may not leave this post up, because I know it makes me sound like a spoiled, overprivileged, unempathetic, short-sighted and self-centered brat that probably does deserve to have something horrible happen. Who am I to wish for an end when I am young, healthy, have a great family and amazing opportunities in front of me? What an ungrateful ingrate. I know that there are people suffering all over the world, people who would kill to have my resources and opportunities. I know there are people who have lost loved ones in car wrecks (I lost a dear friend to a crash in high school). I know there are many people who have felt helpless enough to actually take their lives, or who have tried and survived to lead meaningful, fulfilled lives afterwards. I think this last group is that which I really fear offending. I feel guilty to all of those people and everyone else for feeling this way, but it is what it is right now, and I really needed to just write it out and process it.

(Just wanted to note that I do NOT think people who attempt suicide are all of those things I called myself above. I guess it's one of those instances of judging ourselves differently than we judge others. And just to be clear, I IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM am advocating suicide as an escape route. Please don't misread me, because the exact opposite is true. Please, I can't emphasize that enough. If I had indeed taken my life back in those dark days, when I was sure nothing would ever get better, I would have missed out on so many people, places, experiences, and wonderful feelings. Please, if you feel like you're a danger to yourself, seek help at a resource like http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ or http://suicidehotlines.com/, the Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-TALK.)

Chicken

Thanks for all the concern from the comments to my last post. My back is feeling about the same, I'm fairly certain it's just the muscles.

Mentally I thought I was OK, but I damn near had an anxiety attack yesterday when I picked up my rental car. I have NEVER had driving anxiety before, but I really just wanted to get off the road. It didn't help that I am used to driving a light SUV, and they gave me a tiny little car that feels like it's made of plastic; I'm not used to being that low to the ground.

Match and I had tickets to a concert on campus last night and planned to meet there to save time, since he was coming straight after work. I was so nervous about driving that tiny car in the dark on these roads (traffic in this city really is treacherous, I've hated it ever since I moved here) that he offered to leave work early to come pick me up instead. I was very glad. Plus, I couldn't afford the rental insurance on the car, so I want to minimize time on the road with it anyway. My regular car insurance covers it, but I'd owe another deductible, after already paying that amount on repairs for my own car. That is not possible right now.

I am going to have to get a grip sooner or later, though, might as well be sooner. I am used to being Miss Independent and I don't like this feeling. I'm going over to his place tonight for a Super Bowl party, declined the offer for chauffeur service.

ED-wise, same ole same ole. This week I am supposed to have 3 half-days of exercise. I did 2 on Thursday and Friday, plan to do the last one tomorrow. I am super body-conscious right now, and had zero appetite Friday and Saturday, but trucking along.

Accidental Lessons

Ok, sorry for the brief post earlier, did it on my phone while I was waiting at the car shop. Here is the short version of the story:

• I was actually having a great day until I headed home from campus around 12:30.
• It was raining, roads were wet.
• I stopped at a 4-way intersection, then made a left-hand turn.
• This black sports car came around a turn, barreled toward the intersection and went roaring down through. I couldn't get out of the way fast enough, so he caught my driver's side flank.
• I somehow ended up spun around 180 degrees, facing the way I had just come.
• My rear driver's-side door was crushed in and that wheel was at a funky angle.
• The entire front of the other guy's car was smashed in.
• By some miracle of physics, neither of us had a scratch. I bruised my knee on the steering wheel, and my back injury from December was re-aggravated (the muscles still seize up at the slightest shock), but it could have been much, much worse. The cold rainy weather and my near lethal dose of adrenaline were the worst physical stresses. One of the firemen actually left his sweatshirt with me when they left the scene because I was shivering so badly, teeth chattering and everything. Although that was probably just as much nerves as incipient hypothermia.
• Match was at work, and he doesn't get a cell signal in his office, so he couldn't come get me.
• I was unsure of who else to call. This was the worst part. I have made quite a few friends in the few months I've lived here, but no really close friends, and no one I wanted to bother to take time out of their day. I ended up calling my major professor, who is ultra-nice and always helpful.
• The other guy was just a high school kid, and his dad came out and yelled at everyone. That wasn't pleasant, but I understood he was scared that his son had such a close call.
• I got a citation for the accident, since he had the right of way on the road he was on (although I KNOW he had to be speeding, and I had followed the rules for stopping, signalling, looking, and he came around a turn speeding, but he did have the right of way on that road, technically). They told me that if I go to my court date and take documentation that my insurance is covering all costs, they'll dismiss the charge.
• They towed my poor car, we went to fill out paperwork at the shop, and my prof took me home.
• Car will be out of commission for 1.5-2 weeks.
• I realized I left all of my keys on the keyring I gave to the tower, so I had to get an extra from my landlord to get in the door, and can't check my mail.
• The kid's dad took him to the ER to get checked out. He claimed and appeared to be fine at the scene, and his air-bags didn't deploy, so I think this was just a precautionary measure, but still makes me nervous. I probably should have gone, because my back aches pretty badly, but I'm fairly certain it's just over-tense muscles from the jolt.

So that was the incident. I was amazingly composed and stoic until about 5:30, when I had this delayed stress reaction and just broke down. Glad it happened when I was safely alone in my apartment, at least.

So a few relevant observations:

• This happened when I was on my way home for lunch, hungry because I hadn't eaten since 8. This little diversion mean that I ended up not getting home until about 4:30 (appetite gone, needless to say, but I did force at least something down).

• So this was an excellent example of a time when it was good that I have more reserves than I used to, because if it had been back during the times when I was on such a razor-thin edge in terms of stamina and energy, it could have been much worse, both physically and mentally. A strong example to the last time I had an accident, about 4.5 years ago, which occurred around 6 pm when I hadn't eaten anything all day, and had to wait in the freezing rain for TWO HOURS for the police to get there. I was seriously afraid I was going to have a heart attack, I was having such bad palpitations.

• If I wasn't this far in weight restoration/recovery, my bones would be weaker and less cushioned, and I could have been seriously injured. I would have suffered much more in the cold after the accident. I would have had a harder time keeping a calm, clear mind while dealing with the police, irate father, insurance company, etc.

• Finally, yesterday and today were half-days in my exercise challenge, which was probably for the best, because it meant I wasn't so depleted while dealing with all of this. Verdict: driving fail but recovery win.

So, lessons learned, albeit by accident.

Not a Good Day

So I wrecked the shit out of my car today.

Go Cammy.

Glamour Be Gone

One thing C. and I discussed last week was that there is often some small part of us that missesat least some small part of the ED. Seems anathema to recovery to admit that, but it is what it is. After living with an ED for months, years, on and on, it's default. Analogy: Even if you live in a dysfunctional house, at least you know where you going to come home to at the end of the day. Same deal with the ED sometimes. Hindsight is supposed to be 20/20, but in reality we often sugar-coat things in retrospect. Memories of the pain fade, while other memories may be enhanced: the adrenaline highs, the manic intensity of a starving brain, the elation from disconnecting with the physical world, the simplicity of decisions when the answer to every want and need is a simple "no", with no need for debate.

All of these rosy-tinted reminiscences are amplified in comparison to the awkwardness and unfamiliarity that can be involved with recovery. The new body moves and looks differently than you're used to. Daily patterns are disrupted, routines uprooted, the lifestyle and very identity you've spent years refining have to be recast into something very different.

Historically, that is where I've balked. Gotten far enough to see the other side, but then chickened the hell out and gone crawling back into my hole, trading the known evil for the unknown opportunities. You can look at other ED sufferers and recognize unhealthy patterns, truly wish they could see that they deserve more, etc, but we are never more blind than when we look in the mirror.

So my main struggle this week is maintaining perspective. I don't feel natural in this body or this lifestyle yet, and I know I still have even farther to go before I can really say I'm healthy. I don't really know what I'll look or feel like when this whole process is complete. The only thing I do know, though, is that the alternative can't be an option anymore. I've been there, done that, redone it and redone it. It may be familiar, but I know, deep down, that familiar doesn't always mean safe or right. Also, I felt similarly uncomfortable at several past weight/behavior milestones over the preceding two years. I felt huge at the time, but now there is no way I'd go back to that weight even if I could, because I know it didn't look or feel as healthy as I do now.

I do not miss having to get up out of bed very slowly in the morning to avoid nearly passing out because my skinnyass heart can't pump blood to my head very well. Now, I marvel every day at how I can just stand up and meet the day. So simple, so trivial sounding, but damn if it doesn't feel good.

I do not miss reading the same paragraph over and over for 30 minutes without having any clue what it says, because my focus and concentration are shot to hell. Now I tear through several books a week and am back to being able to remember the info from my class notes after just one read-through.

I do not miss not being able to find any pants that don't look ridiculous on my scraggly bod. Now I can actually wear real clothes that complement my shape, and realize that having a shape is not a bad thing.

I do not miss the full-on anxiety attacks over small, insignificant issues or schedule disruptions. I'm still more "structured" than most people, but I can adapt my plans and am worlds more flexible than before. This has let me see and do SO many things I would have missed out on otherwise.

I do not miss the isolation, of passing all social opportunities so I could hang with my disease. I get together with either Match or friends a few times a week now, and can't believe all the years I spent hiding behind locked doors instead of enjoying real people.

I do not miss the tingly numb feeling in my fingers and constantly purple nailbeds. Cardiovascular system FAIL. Now my hands are no longer ice cold all the time, and I don't have to worry about nerve damage, etc.

I do not miss losing large locks of hair every time I showered. It got so, so thin and dull for a time, and I am just now up to the thickness/shine that I had pre-ED, and I LOVE it.

I do not miss having pictures from events or occasions that I can't show to anyone because I look so shitty and ill in them. I have hundreds of pics on Facebook, but they're very carefully selected from healthy times. I am traveling a lot and doing cool things these days, and I like to be able to share those experiences without worrying and/or triggering people.

I do not miss the ugly bruises on my back and hips from sitting in chairs. Newflash: banged up bodies are def unsexy.

I do not miss the repressed rage I felt, at how I could so easily be successful in school and work, get praise, get awards, make friends, make jokes, be a leader in organizations, be active in my church, be the Good Daughter, go through the innumerable motions of living all while I was killing myself one day at a time. I didn't want people to notice, I truly didn't, I wanted them to leave me to my own devices and would get uncharacteristically defensive and ugly at anyone who tried to intrude. But I had another feeling that was simultaneous and orthogonal to the intense guardedness: a deep, deep sense of alienation even when I wanted to be left alone, as though no one in the world would ever be able to reach me, so I might as well scoot farther and farther towards the edge.

Those were the "rewards" for hours and days and weeks and months and the years of life spent pouring energy into anorexia. Cost-benefit analysis is explicitly unbalanced, no?

Can someone please remind me of why the media glorifies being skeletal? Why dieting is supposed to be default mode if you have two X chromosomes and live in a developed country? I spent a long time telling myself that I can't want that back, but I am arriving at the point at which I truly don't want it back. Might seem like semantics, but it's a significant switch for me. Even on days like today, when I am way uncomfortable, I know that I won't be any more comfortable or happy with the alternative.

The only way out is through, right?

Sorry for the long post. Struggling a bit and I just really needed to remind myself of all of that today.

All in All

So, my mind has been a bit all over these past few days. I've been doing decently with the challenges, but I don't think it's going to be a Sticker Week. Trying so, so hard to tell myself that this is moving towards the life I'm supposed to have, that it's impossible to cling to all of these thoughts/behaviors/habits/etc if I want to be healthy. It's not that I want to go backwards, but forwards is still intimidating. It's just a lot sometimes.

Do you happen to hear a song on the radio or iPod queue, and think, Wow, that is my theme song today?

Well I did, and this was it. Couldn't find an actual video on YouTube, but this works.

"All In All"

Standing on top of the edge it feels like it's going down

Everything stays in my mind feeling in a daze on the ground

Feels like it's gonna give life's to hard to live anymore

I think I've had enough things too tough

I'm out the door

All in all it's just another day now

You're falling down

What you gonna do

Standing on top of the world tonight

No ones looking back at you

Stand tall

It's going on

It's going on

It's gonna be just fine

You're holding on

Holding on today

Things don't stop and the others announced they're moving on

Salt & tears in the minds in the mouths of a bad decision

Too late for another mistake it's bringing me down

With all your faults it isn't your fault

What's going on

All in all it's just another day now

You're falling down

What you gonna do

Standing on top of the world tonight

No ones looking back at you

Stand tall

It's going on

It's going on

It's gonna be just fine

You're holding on

Holding on today

So you lost yourself

So you lost your way

Found life through someone else

But you threw it all away

All in all it's just another day now

You're falling down

What you gonna do

Standing on top of the world tonight

No ones looking back at you

Stand tall

It's going on

It's going on

It's gonna be just fine

You're holding on

Holding on today

Times rolling on

Rolling on today

It's going on

Going on today

Un-Cammy Moment

So, yesterday afternoon, with absolutely no warning, no rhyme or reason, I just randomly cried for half an hour.

?

I hate it when my face leaks.