I am thankful my fog is lifting and I have a proper diagnosis. I am not thankful for the clearer head that sees, feels, and knows all the bad choices, I made all those years trying to act as if I did not have mental health issues. I had gastric bypass five years ago. I almost died to be skinny. I went from almost 400 lbs to under 200 hundred. Then I could give a lot of excuses and some very legit ones but they won’t chance that I have gained over a hundred of it back.
I feel shame, hatred, and disgust with myself. I don’t know how to NOT be a binge/compulsive eater. I am so filled with these feelings that at 37 I am desperate to feel the release that teens and twenty year old’s do. Here is the quick thought snippet unedited I wrote yesterday.
Binge ate on chips want something d sweet bad. Now feel physically sick. .. hate myself and really want to kill self them thought of Cutting as viable way to Stop The Binge eating all i really know is I’m fucked up
Saturday, April 12, 2014 1:24pm
In the moment when I wrote this, I really think I would have cut my thigh or stomach if I knew how to do it. I thought about googling how people do it safely. WHAT THE FUCK! The thing that stopped me was if anyone on my phone or computer saw the google search then they would know my shame. I couldn’t have that as children just now reaching puberty. So I took some klonopine and slept. Today I feel the same way but it isn’t as strong. I have kept myself busy and then found this picture on facebook and decided to share my struggle no matter how embarrassing or shameful.
I want to change my eating habits. I know I feel better as I notice when I binge it causes my anxiety to skyrocket and get stomach aches. I will have my self esteem back. I will have at least one of these demons (I feel the bipolar II is chemical and biological but the eating disorder NOS and borderline personality disorder I think are more of a nurture/poor coping skills symptoms that has become a mental health illness — hope that made sense!) in recovery. Then I will believe there is a chance of recovery/remission (what ever the fuck it’s called) because I really don’t. But that is a whole other post for a whole other day.
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