Moving


I want to begin by apologizing for being so obscure of late.  This year has been an exceptionally hard one for me mentally and I’ve let all of my pursuits disappear down the drain.  It feels thus anyway.

If it isn’t Bipolar reining over me it’s anxiety and if it isn’t one of those it’s Anorexia.  Needless to say, it hasn’t been the fun-est of years.  There have been some good things to come out of it though.

I’ve met some of the most amazing people on the face of the planet, I’ve had new experiences that opened my eyes, and I’ve learned oodles about myself.

It hardly seems right that it is already October!  Fall is here and I should be enjoying it as it is my favorite season, but the worries of everyday life are quite the burden for me these days.  We sold our current home and are purchasing a new one inside the city limits which I am excited about, but waiting for the loan to go through is tasking.  I am learning more patience with each passing day.

My house is only half packed and it is a disaster zone most days as we try to live in it and pack as we are able. Then there is the harvest to contend with.  It is a long, drawn out affair as always and full of drama in its own right.  We have went through 3 harvest hand (one of them my office help), our auger keeps breaking down, and then there’s the farmer drama about the usual stuff.

My original office help told me I inspired her to count calories and weigh herself more often in an effort to lose weight 🙄🙄🙄.  Then she called me a bitch and told me I act like I’m the queen bee who nobody can touch, but she touched me all over.  I couldn’t help but laugh in her hypocritical face.  She swore she didn’t like mean people, and yet there she was, being mean.  She was very jealous of me and she told me so plainly. Jealous of my car and my sense of style, my life in general–materially speaking.  Unfortunately she only made it a week out here before she tried to get everyone in trouble which only resulted in her being asked not to return.

That week was awful for my mental state.  I was under so much stress I began to exhibit signs of hypomania.  I emailed my doctor who was more than happy to double one medication and quadruple the other.  I have increased it some, but not nearly that much as I cannot afford to be a zombie right now and since I received new help my mind has slowed back down.

However, ED has been on my back and I find myself constantly triggered by the littlest things.  It’s people talking about moving and exercising today.  Like I want to jump out of my skin when I hear it.  It is but innocent conversation to them and they have no idea of the feelings it causes to arise  in my chest, but it makes no difference.

The first thing I heard this morning was “I’m going to try not to sit all day; I need to keep moving”.  Of course I was in high heels and could not be on my feet all day and ED let me know in no uncertain terms that I wore the wrong shoes, that I would not burn calories in heels, and that I would gain weight from sitting and no one else would.  Immediate anxiety, immediate crawling out of my skin sensations, immediate urge to compensate in some other way (which I did… 4 laxatives later).

It’s great that you want to get in shape, but I have an eating disorder and you know it; be kind and keep those thoughts to yourself.  No?  Okay, I’ll just stuff and suck it up and never say a word about my uncomfortable position as per usual.

I see my psychiatrist and dietician on Thursday and I am excited.  In a place where no one wants to hear or understand what I am going through they are a God-send even if ED hates them.  I am afraid of what they will say honestly.  I’m really afraid they will say they can’t see me anymore because I won’t help myself.

I can’t help myself right now, I don’t know how.  I try and it just makes me miserable. It pisses ED off and I am not strong enough to overcome him on my own and I have not the willpower to continue to contend with him alone.  So I give in and appease him.  Then, and only then, am I happy for a while, because he is happy.  I know it is a false happy, though, and that it will not last.  I am stuck in a vicious cycle and caught in the flow I continue moving, spinning circle after pointless circle.

One thought on “Moving

  1. Kels, I want to encourage you. There is freedom in the name of Jesus and we are told to hold no other god’s before Him. No, you can’t do this yourself. But I believe in God.
    And I believe that if God could rescue me from years of addiction, from homosexuality (and EVERY emotion that came with it) from Aspergers (I haven’t felt the chaos that once plagued my mind and the overwhelming social anxiety in weeks) from body dysmorphia and anorexia (to look in the mirror and know that I am pleasing in his sight is a gift that surpasses my expression) and countless memories from PTSD (haven’t had a flashback or dissociated since He rescued me three weeks ago) I know that she can rescue you. I know it.
    He won’t force you. But He only needs the smallest yes. You deserve better than this Kels. Imagine reading your soul for this. Imagine eternity before Him seeing that this is what you gave yourself to in earth. You were created for Him, not for you. The same Spirit that rose Jesus from the grave offers healing to you now. He is worthy of your attention and He says you are worth TRUE joy.
    I love you so much. I am always praying for you

    Like

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