Saturday, 29 June 2013

Lost Days and Empty Weeks

There's three empty weeks on my calendar. Three weeks where I've no appointments, no weigh-ins, and no plans to leave the house. The temptation to lose weight is always high when I'm left to my own devices. There is also a huge fear with not having my weight monitored, and eating unsafe amounts. What if I expand to the size of a small whale?! I couldn't face three week's worth of weight gain. It's far too risky to eat more right now. Safety is lying in restriction.

The last few days have been... lost. Everything's been overwhelming me, and the simplest tasks become all too much. Things like making a coffee seem suddenly complex. Everything seems to go downhill at breakfast-time, for some reason or no reason at all. I then spend the day stuck in my armchair, unable to process anything, a panicking wreck. The days have just been totally lost.

But today I pushed through it, and made the day worth something. I found distraction again, if only for a short while. I spent two hours this morning sat at my sewing machine for the first time in years, whirring through fabric and thread in a daze. Pieces of fabric are starting to take the shape of a coat. The time flew by. Having something to occupy just a few hours of my day made the empty hours much more bearable.

Tomorrow I'm going to be making more soup, because there's no such thing as too much soup (though I currently have about 16 cups in the freezer), and it's the perfect way to fill in a couple of hours. I've started making hyper-detailed, time-planned to do lists for each day again. Down to the basics, like when to prepare meals or have a cuppa. Call it trying to make something out of nothing, but on good days, it's been helping to have it written down. 

On the subject of time disappearing... How are we halfway through the year already?! Sigh. 

Here's to a weekend of sewing, soup, movies, and hiding out in front of the heater; and hopefully a less stressful week ahead. 

Still living in Kmart essentials... Yet another reason to start sewing again: the only track pants available in my size have pink on them... eeeeeeeewww!


Wednesday, 26 June 2013


I had a lot of trouble talking with the dietician again. There was lots of shrugging, mumbling, staring at the floor. My mind was too foggy to think of much to say. She asked about my mood (low) and my intake (600 average), and how my chest was feeling (bad).

She weighed me and my weight had dropped, by quite a bit apparently. She said it's lower than it's been in a long, long time. That there's a trend of it dropping since I've had my lung issues, and it's not good. Something about heading for a crisis. She's pushing that I need I see a GP for another checkup, OBs and bloods etc., to see if anything's changed internally along with my intake dropping, or that mum will have to take me to A&E for the same (hah, no).

My GP is away too, so I'm a bit stuck for the next couple of weeks be side I won't see one of the other GPs. I've made an appointment with mine for the 12th though, just before the dietician comes back on the 16th. The dietician also offered for me to see her colleague just to be weighed if I wanted, but to be honest, I don't really trust other people to weigh me. 

I'm getting curious about knowing what my weight is again. But I don't know if it would serve any good purpose, so I'm holding back for now. 

Mum's recently kept saying that she wanted to make a banana-bran cake. So yesterday I took it upon myself to whip up a loaf, plus an impulsive loaf of carrot cake for her. After that, and the appointment, I was tired out, so I didn't do any work on my coat. This morning though, I did the last little bits of work prepping it, so tomorrow is the day to actually, finally start sewing it. I'm feeling able to keep myself distracted and productive for a couple of hours each day, until the fog sets in, which is still more than I've been able to say for a while. 

I'm aiming to have maybe just a couple of days closer to 800 calories, as the dietician keeps suggesting, before she gets back. Today will be around 700, so it's a start. 


Monday, 24 June 2013

Small steps forward

I'm finding it a little easier each day to distract myself with sewing. Just little bursts. Half an hour after breakfast, maybe another half hour in the afternoon. But I'm feeling motivated. The coffee table is covered with fabrics, paper, pins. I finished cutting out the fabrics for my coat today. It's a surprisingly hard job nowadays, maneuvering so much fabric and such big pattern pieces, so I haven't been going full-steam. I still have to do a few other bits n bobs first, but I should be actually sewing it by Wednesday. I think it's a hobby that might just stick (or re-stick). I've also been thinking of getting back into fashion sketching/design, for another something to fill the hours.

My intake was 620 cals on Saturday and 590 yesterday. Today will be similar. My small achievement for this week is that I've been eating five meals a day for the past few days, whereas I'd been skipping 2-3. I think it's important to keep myself distracted in some way before meals especially, so I don't have too much time to sit and let the negative self-talk brew. Mum asks me what I'm planning before each meal time, and we eat together, so it's not like I can totally avoid a meal. At the same time, if I say "nope, not eating lunch", we don't argue over it because it just causes stress on both parties. I'm eating basically the same things for each meal, but that's how it usually is. 
My menu at the moment consists of: wholemeal bread, Vegemite, cheddar slices, strawberry yoghurt, beef & veggie stew, lamb & veggie soup, animal cookies, chocolate custard. Plus coffee and Coke Zero.

Some good news on the smoking front: I'm set to be off the green stuff in the next week or so (fingers crossed it sticks!), which seems crazy, and I've been smoking under 5 cigarettes a day. I still have a month until I see the physician again, and I want to be able to go in a non-smoker (lest he again recommend I see a 'specialist' for my addiction). It's pretty exciting stuff. I started smoking cigarettes when I was 13, and I've been a daily toker for a smidge over three years now, so it's been a little while since I was last a 'non-smoker'.

Tomorrow morning I'm seeing the dietician, then she's away for two weeks. She's asked me to see the GP during those weeks so I have some support/routine, so I'll probably make an appointment when I'm there tomorrow. My biggest worry is about not being weighed for so long, though I guess that's just something I need to let go of for a few weeks.


Friday, 21 June 2013

Restless nights

On Wednesday I stayed outside in my armchair all night, again. I don't know what exactly triggers the thought cycle, but once it starts it just keeps building. I start to believe that I don't deserve to go inside, to be warm, or have a roof over my head. I didn't deserve to lie down, to eat, to sleep, to take my medication (because skipping meds is a brilliant idea...).

I'm filled with a lot of negative self-talk right now. A lot of depression, self-hatred, futility, apathy.

Mum would come out and try to convince me to go inside, to take care of my physical self at least. I just cried "I can't". Because I didn't deserve to. Because there was simply no point. Whenever I say that, Mum tells me "you're the point", but I don't see it. As the night went on and the back-and-forth continued, I was in hysterics. Refusing to go inside, refusing my night meds, refusing to stop crying, wanting to be left alone.
Mum threatened to call an ambulance, saying I'd end up in hospital anyway with pneumonia if I didn't go inside. 
I threatened to run, refusing to ever face the horrible psychiatrist at hospital #1 in a non-life threatening situation. 

I went through a whole box of tissues overnight. I dozed for a couple of hours around 2am, waking up every so often just to fall back asleep crying again. It was 1*Celcius, though that didnt stop the night-sweats.

Yesterday I ignored the world, wishing for the day to end as the previous one never really did. 480 calories. Nothing achieved. 
I'm finding myself eating differently to how I normally would. Normally I'd serve myself my calorie-controlled portion, and always finish it. Recently I've been leaving the crusts on sandwiches, weighing them up afterwards. I cut my toast before I weigh or toast it, so I can not feel obliged to eat every piece for accuracy's sake. Putting down my spoon halfway through my bowl of soup because I'm simple tired of eating.
Today had been a little better. Five meals, 600 calories. Less tears than the past few days, potentially due to keeping myself distracted.

In sewing news, I finally lengthened my coat pattern today. I've been anxious as hell about messing it all up, and so I haven't touched it for two days. These patterns are designed for someone 5'5" tall, and I'm 6'1". I bit the bullet this afternoon, started working on it again, and added 6cm to the back-waist length. Now I can start cutting out the fabrics and actually make progress on it, which is pretty darned exciting if you ask me. So my weekend will be filled with sewing and soup-making, and hopefully it'll keep the tears at bay.


Wednesday, 19 June 2013

Floating, Shrinking, Crashing

The dietician called me in. She said she was happy to see our little blue car in the parking lot when she got there, after my unusual absence last week. I'm the first appointment of the day, and generally mum and I get there a few minutes before the dietician. She asked why I didn't come last week. 
"Just didn't feel up to it?"
I nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. Come to think of it, I stared at the floor the whole time, which I haven't done for months.

She asked about my calorie intake, and I told her it'd dropped a bit lower. 
"How low?"
"400-800 calories."
Then came the inevitable walk to the scales. 
She instantly tells me I've lost weight.

We get back to her office and she talks about raising my calorie intake to 700-800 each day, that she's worried by my weight loss. I shrug. Most days I plan to eat around 650 calories, five meals, but my mood gets in the way, so sometimes I miss a meal or two. I tell her I've just lost motivation, that I just don't want to eat any more than I already am. She thinks a lot of the decline is due to being sick for so long with this lung infection, which I don't entirely disagree with.

She asked me if there was any way I could drink supplements. 
Instant no. 
If I drink supplements, I feel guilty, so I stop eating and only drink supplements. Logical? No.

She reminds me that I can come to see her on Thursdays too, though I never take her up on it. 
I have an appointment with her next week, but after that she's going away for two weeks, meaning a three week gap between appointments. She mentioned this yesterday, and says I should make my visits to the GP more frequent. I shrug. I don't actually have any appointments currently booked with the GP, though I know I need to see her sooner rather than later.
Either way, the temptation to lose weight is always more irresistible when I won't be weighed for so long.

Today has been one of those immobilized-by-anxiety-and-paralysed-by-tears kinda days. I've done precious little work on my coat. It all became a bit overwhelming, and I broke down into a puddle of tears. Pathetic. Hopefully tomorrow will be a bit more productive.

230 calories today; breakfast and dinner. I missed my other meals due to being stuck in aforementioned tear puddle, otherwise my intake would've been closer to 600.
For now, I think it's time to defrost my stew for an early-bird dinner, followed by an evening on the couch, and taking solace in the fact tomorrow can't be any worse. 


Monday, 17 June 2013

Distractions in needle & thread

I spent yesterday morning doing something I haven't done for years, but I woke up in the morning with a burning obsession. I sat in the lounge room, poring through my collection of clothing patterns, looking for something to sew myself.

I haven't sewn clothes for myself in years, since before I developed Anorexia, due to seemingly ever-changing sizes. But y'know what? I've been a size six, haven't gained significant weight, and have had fairly stable measurements for over 18 months now. I doubt I'm about to gain, and then lose again, 35kg within the next year. Or at least, I hope not. So what's stopping me?

If you haven't seen any of my sewing before, here's a link to my Facebook album (sorry there's not a more convenient format): 
Historical reproduction, corsetry, and costuming were my areas of speciality. I own at least a dozen books on the subjects, my favorites of which are published by V&A Museum. Sewing was my passion. Before my ED, my goal was to study theatrical costuming and historical reproduction, eventually at a University level, but Anorexia snatched that away, for now at least. 

None of my beautiful clothes fit me anymore, not by a long shot. They were made for the girl with measurements of 38-31-36, not 27-21-31. My sewing dummy won't even go down to my measurements. I've been living in Kmart clothes because they're the only shop who regularly stock a range of size 6s, but I'd like my nice wardrobe back (even if I don't go out to wear it). My personal fashion style has wasted away; now it's "whatever fits".

Sadly, few of the patterns I own go down to a size 6. The ones that do, I'm not too keen on, and I don't feel up to resizing a pattern. So I prowled around the Vogue Patterns catalogue, and found a couple of nice coats. Mum went out to pick up a pattern for me (V8346, pictured), and I've rummaged around for fabrics and trimmings (I literally have a studio room full of supplies and equipment, all of which have been gathering dust). I'm hoping I can do a little bit each day, and stay motivated to do so. That said, I've always been crazy obsessive when I get the urge to sew, or do most things really, and I'll work non-stop for days.

So, maybe expect the occasional sewing picture (and I do mean rarely)! I haven't sewn in over three years, so this is a big step for me. In which direction, I'm not too sure yet. Have I maybe found the elusive thing known as a 'distraction'...?

Fingers crossed it sticks.

Tomorrow morning I'm off to see the dietician. My intake's been between 400-800 calories for the past two weeks, and I still have no good reason for not going to either of my appointments last week. It'll be uncomfortable, to say the least. 


Friday, 14 June 2013


Last night was rough. I felt inexplicably anxious, and my back and chest were hurting as I'd again run out of painkillers. I stared blankly at the light-polluted sky, immobilized mentally and physically. I slept sat in my armchair on the back porch, rugged up under blankets, listening to the rain sheeting down. It's been raining all week. It's lovely.

I don't have a problem being trapped in a physical space, so much as I do being trapped in my head with my thoughts. Each morning I write a simple 'to do' list (brush hair, defrost soup), try to find distractions (blogging, reading, puzzles), but I can only engage for so long. Sometimes negative self-talk gets in the way, sometimes it's feeling too anxious to move, sometimes it's that everything seems pointless. I still wake up each morning and write that list though, so I guess that's something.

I can't get out of the house much at all, except for appointments. My anxiety is truly crippling; Agoraphobia and C-PTSD playing the biggest parts in my fear of leaving the house. Saying I need to get out more, is similar to saying I need to eat more. It's just not that simple; it's never been that simple. The thought petrifies me.

I haven't been to the supermarket in over four months now, which used to be the one 'safe' place I'd go. It's been over three years since I've been into town, and even longer since I've gone for a walk around the block. Recently I've even been struggling to go out for drives in the car without breaking down into a flurry of panic and tears.

Mental illness has weighed heavily on me for as long as I can remember, long before Anorexia. I received my first diagnoses of depression and anxiety at the age of 12 from my first psychiatrist, though I'd been suffering for years already. It's always been there. I've gathered many labels and diagnoses over the years, and it's all become a jumble that I daren't try untangling. Before my ED developed, I'd already stopped functioning, started receiving a disability pension, dropped out of and re-attempted schooling several times, had five inpatient psychiatric admissions... Anorexia is my coping mechanism, as I know it is for many of us.

The point of this, is that there are many factors as to why I don't leave the house, but it isn't due to depression or my eating disorder. Anxiety has it's claws in deep. I know that getting out helps a lot of people feel better in some way, but for me, it's the opposite. Few things scare me more.

Tomorrow I'm going to be making up another big batch of my stew, about 20 cups, as I'm having the last frozen serve for dinner tonight. It's simple, whole and lovely. Lean beef, onion, carrot, potato, tomato, stock cube, flour, seasonings. Mum was apparently much more impressed with my dinner bowl before I told her it was only 130 calories.

Speaking of the devils, my calorie intake is still kicking around 400-700. The last three days have been in the 400s, a direct reflection of my mood, and I'm cutting it fine with my blood sugars. Part of me is looking forward to seeing the dietician next week, to record the loss on the scales. But I'm also dreading having to explain why I cancelled last week's appointment, because it's not like me at all. Either way, I know I have to drag my butt there next week, so hopefully I'll be able to find words before then. 


Wednesday, 12 June 2013

Tumbling down the rabbit hole...

I didn't see the dietician this week. It's the first time in the year I've been seeing her that I've cancelled an appointment, except for the week I was in hospital. Mum asked me on Monday if I was going to go to the appointment.
"I don't see any reason to. I don't have anything to say. My intake's been dropping, and I don't really want to be weighed, so I don't see the point."

I'm appointment-free this week. The GP appointment for tomorrow was cancelled too. At the moment I'm struggling to drag myself out of my armchair, let alone the house.

I didn't eat enough over the weekend. 50g of carbs each day, when I know I need 100g to stay stable. Monday was a battle to get my blood sugars back up, though I made it to 900 calories. Yesterday I cried through lunch, through the afternoon, again skipping two meals. It's becoming a pattern that I only eat three, maybe four, of my five planned meals. The struggle is getting harder. My daily calorie intake's been between 400-700, depending on my mood. It's proportional. The worse I feel, the less I eat.

There's also been an interesting development to my health over the last several days... My tailbone is killing me. Every time I cough, it feels like I'm being shot/kicked in the damn coccyx. An army of paracetamol, codeine, and ibuprofen is doing bugger all to help the pain. Maybe I've developed a stress fracture from sitting on my butt all day? Either way, it looks like I'll be back at the GP sooner rather than later.

I keep saying to mum that I know this feeling passes, the depression. But right now, everything feels so hopeless, I can't see through the fog. My days feel endless and empty, trapped in my head with my thoughts. Sadly, knowing that the depression will eventually lift doesn't make it lift. At the moment I just have to wait it out, and try to make it through each day, one moment at a time.


Saturday, 8 June 2013

Potatoes gonna Potate

First of all, thank you to everyone for your kind comments on my last post. I normally never address nasty anonymous comments, but for once I will. Though, it's more for my lovely friends and followers, who I'm sure wonder how I react.

As a rule, I never acknowledge nasty anon comments in any form. I will not reply to them, delete them, or waste my time and energy dwelling on them. I could rant for eons at these idiots, but it isn't my job to educate them about eating disorders, and I won't waste my words trying. These people will never come back to read responses, and if they do, it's just feeding the trolls.

Prior to the comment on my last post, on Sunday I woke up to three nasty anon comments. On Tuesday, I woke up to two. They pop up all the time on my stats page, or posts with photos. If I let these comments get to me, I wouldn't be able to blog as openly as I do. I couldn't post such raw photos of myself if I didn't have the backbone to take the flack I might get. It's something I fully expected when I started blogging, and I won't pay any heed to these hateful grey-faced trolls. Basically, I don't let these comments effects me.

Haters gonna hate. Potatoes gonna potate.

That is all.

PSA aside, it's business as usual this weekend. My intake yesterday was 735 calories, and today will be around 400, give or take 10 cals. Today has not been good emotionally. I had my 100-calorie breakfast of Vegemite toast and strawberry yogurt, but I've not eaten since then. I'm going to will myself into the kitchen soon to start my nighttime 300-cal lineup of lamb soup, wholemeal bread, and later a Skinny Cow sundae.

I'm still deciding whether or not to see the dietician this week. I've told mum that I won't cancel the rest of my appointments just yet, that maybe I just need a week to calm. I guess it's more of a everything's-pointless-why-bother kinda thing than anything else.

I've also just started another course of antibiotics, a script the physician gave me in case the phlegm and pain for worse. I'm cutting back smoking, but not fast enough for my body apparently. My 'quit date' is before 23rd July, in an ideal world, so the physician won't kick my butt again at my next check-up. Currently I'm averaging 6g/day (it went back up to 7-8g last week), plus 5 or less cigarettes, so I need to cut back one gram/day each week to reach my goal. I'm writing down every gram, cone, and cigarette I smoke, so I'm actively aware of the amount. I know I can do it, I know I have to do it, and I will do it.

Determination is a hell of a thing. 


Thursday, 6 June 2013


I ran out of another appointment. That makes three in a row. The dietician basically told me I've been doing a great job maintaining my weight for the past four months, and to keep doing what I'm doing. 
Doubt it.
I wanted to scream. I don't want to maintain on under 1,000 calories for four damn months. I either want to lose more, or for my dietician help me raise my intake. 
I just walked out. 
She said "See you next week."
Doubt it. 

Yesterday I ate a smidge under 600 calories, consisting of a cheese & Vegemite scroll, soup (lamb, lentil & vege) with a slice of wholemeal bread, and ice cream. Comfort foods. The scroll was 300/600 calories, which is not okay.  I need to make a homemade, lower fat, wholemeal version of them, but recently I've been lacking the energy to bake. 
Today I've eaten 450ish cals so far, and have 300 more to eat in stew (beef & vege), bread, and ice cream. 

I'm ready to see my weight start moving down again. Everything's too much. I'm too much.

I don't know if I'll go to see my dietician next week. I barely made it this week. I'm definitely not going to be seeing my GP on Thursday; that's just out of the question. I don't see the point in any of it anymore. I'm finding myself unable to speak up, anyway. It seems impossible to tell my dietician that I'm frustrated at the moment, or explain how I'm doing to my GP. Everything feels horribly futile. My days seem filled with hopeless, pointless, endless tears. And while I know the tears do stop eventually, it's still so damn hard. 

Excellent news on the clothing front though: I now own a coat that actually fits. These days I'm a size 6 AU, which is a hard size to find much in. My only coats are to fit me at my set weight of size 12-14, which is awfully baggy now. The sleeves aren't quite long enough on this new one, and I wish it were slightly smaller (it's a size 8, so I tie the belt a little tighter at the back), but it's much better than what I had. Just in time for winter!

For now, I'm exhausted. I've been up since midnight (it's currently 4pm), and am nursing a headache and back/lung ache. It's going to be an early night again.
Reason #914 why I'm an old lady (I swear I should really make a list): I regularly eat dinner at 4:30-5PM, and am rarely awake later than 8-9PM. Even in hospital, I shocked the nurses with my early bedtime. 

Goodnight folks!


Monday, 3 June 2013

There's a stillness to the madness...

I'm stuck in a rut with my intake. For three months now, I've been eating the same 800-1,000 calories. My weight's jumping up and down whenever it pleases, though thankfully I've been mostly maintaining overall (44-45kg, 12.8-13.1 BMI). I'm getting frustrated with it all. I either need to eat more so my metabolism can actually function, or I need to be eating less. Yet again, I'm at a crossroad. One path involves my dietician, the other is a lone walk. At the moment I dread each appointment with my dietician, each weigh in. I can't stay where I am now, and I need to get out of this rut; one way or another.

It seems I've lost my voice, literally. The last week has been filled with crying and screaming, I've lost my frikkin' voice. I've been in tears near-constantly, and sometimes all you can do is scream. My throat's not even sore, I just can't speak more than a whisper. There's still a few more days until I'm off Paroxetine completely, and hopefully then things'll start looking up bit. For now I'm taking it easy, or trying to at least. 

I've just had homemade stew out of the freezer for dinner (135 cal for a cup - beef, onion, tomato, carrot, potato), which makes things super easy. I'm planning on an early night curled up on the couch with a big fluffy duvet, the air conditioner on heating, curtains drawn and lights dimmed. Oh, and Disney movies, should my brain cooperate in concentrating. Tomorrow night, after my weigh in, I'll be adding a bottle of Shiraz into the picture. For tonight, a hot cuppa will just have to do. 

I'm seeing the dietician in the morning, and then I guess we'll see what the week ahead will bring. Be it higher or lower, my calorie intake is changing.