Wus hap’nin, wus up (said in a T.I. voice, ofcourse)? I gotta say, I’ve been slacking in the blog department. I was doing well with posting consistently, then things started going downhill and I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. 🙂 Sure I shared some of my struggles with you, but I tend to hide the majority of them (just ask my parents or Speeze). So I sensor some things, who doesnt?!…in fear of people judging me and thinking I’m cray. I mean, I know I’m a weirdo, but I really need to not care so much about what other people think of me.
What I do want to talk about today is something that is a rather sensitive subject (at least for me). I have written about some of my sadness before, but I felt it was important to mention there is more to it than you know. If this is your first time reading, I’ll give you a quick rundown if you don’t already know I have an eating disorder (ED) that I have struggled with for over 3 years. About a year ago, I went into a partial hospitalization treatment program for 6 months, and have since then gained a bunch of weight and now I’m having an extremely hard time accepting myself.
What some people don’t realize about eating disorders is that in some cases the ED is a secondary symptom to an underlying psychological disorder, while in other cases the psychological disorder can be secondary to the ED. For me, I think the depression came first, and the eating disorder came soon after. Being depressed, feeling hopeless, worthless and not good enough had me searching for something/anything to help me deal those feelings.
I think it makes perfect sense that depression can lead to an eating disorder and vice versa. Feeling as though you are worthless has you continually searching for something to make you feel better, happy, worth something. The thought constantly ran/runs through my head that if I lose weight, I won’t feel this way anymore. But what happens is no matter how much weight you lose, it’s never good enough, YOU are never good enough. Living that way, in constant hatred towards yourself, is extremely difficult.
The past few months have been some of the most difficult of my life. I don’t want to get all dramatic, but I just want to be completely honest for once. I have good times and bad times, but the bad times have come often, causing me to isolate myself once again and have some serious detrimental thoughts. Part of this is due to the fact that I stopped taking my antidepressants (cold turkey…not such a smart idea).
Part of my hopelessness is that this ED will never go away, The medication didn’t make it go away. I’m scared I will never be able to accept myself and just be okay with who I am. It is seriously an overwhelming fear that I will be struggling for the rest of my life. I have gained the weight and hate the fact that I feel like I keep gaining. But, I eat real food now and try new things and work to get away from the ED, yet I still hold onto it and don’t want to let it go.
Why am I writing all this now…because I’m realizing I just can’t do this on my own (without treatment). I stopped seeing my therapist, dietician, doctor, and psychiatrist (yes I was seeing all of them hah…I’m crazy I guess). I thought I could do this on my own, and I’m seeing that I can’t. I need to stop lying to myself and thinking I will be happier if I just stay where I’m at. So, I’m going back to see my therapist (who is a gem). I’ll see about the dietician and doctor once I talk with her. And I’m trying hard to be more open with my family and friends…which is difficult.
I guess I’m also sharing this because there are so many people out there who are afraid to admit they struggle with depression or anxiety or any other mental illness. Depression is similar to eating disorders in that it is not fully understood and you just can’t know the extent of how it makes you feel unless you experience it yourself. From the outside looking in, you just wonder why someone can’t just be happy, when in reality they are suffering with the tremendous sadness that depression brings. It’s sad that depression and other mental illnesses can be such a taboo topic and come full of stereotypes. I consider myself a ‘normal’ 23 year old, and I’m not afraid to admit that I have a ‘mental illness.’ Take it or leave it! Hopefully I’ll still have some friends after writing this post… 😉 Catch ya later. Thanks for reading (to my few followers)