Highs and lows, ups and downs, skyhigh and rockbottom, supersonicspeedster and apathic snail. Man, do I feel like a schizofrenic every now and then!
Unfortunately this is not one of the ups and highs. Well, actually, it is, but in a very, very bad way. I’m there again. That fullspeed, nonstop, go-go-go-go every on the move, rambling, bouncing state of being. And again, in a very, very, VERY bad way. Its not the happy state of extacy that causes the adrenaline. Its not the self-love or world-love that causes me to bounce. Its not the busy (social) agenda that keeps me on the move, nor is it the overload of good, nutritious, fuelling goods that make me burst with energy. I’m in that state again.
After two days of bingeing, I ‘needed’ (Well, ED needed) a day of ‘balancing it out’, as we like to call it. Compensating. You know the deal. So yes to doing the excercise and no to doing the eating. Went well during the day, no intake whatsoever and managed to skip dinner with the family as well. But then I found myself home alone that night and o-my did the bingemonster return. So, again, I ended up crying myself asleep for the third night in a row.
That morning the cycle restarted. I now needed to ‘balance’ that one out again. So off we went, doing the excercises, not eating ánd going to school. Productivity can also be a very good EDvoice-silencer. And it worked. And the day after, it worked again. And then, there was another one of those ‘good’ days. So basically, yeah, I’ve been having ED-approved days now for 3,5 days in a row.
I didn’t realize how bad it was until last night, when I started freaking out about going to Uni today. I used to have that all the time. Its what kept me in the house. Last night I couldnt help but panic at the thought of having to spend the entire day among people. People with their ever-judging looks. And thats when I realized I hadnt eaten properly for a while now. After eating something (‘something’ being half a veggie burger with no bun or whatever) the stress of seeiing people disappeared. So yeah, I went out and walked off my burger.
The thing with these compensation-days is that when they’re succesfull, they always last longer than intended. I never intend to not eat for more than one day, but somehow when I succeed to do so, it feels like such a waste to start eating again. So I continue, just to see if I can keep it up for juuuust a day longer. And if I do, then hey, why start eating again now? I can do that tomorrow, right? I’ll eat properly again tomorrow. Just one more day of doing this, since it’s going so well again, finally!
And thats when I realize I’m there again. That place. I don’t know if anyone else gets it, but when I’ve crossed a certain point, I dont even have to fool myself anymore. I dont have to ignore hungerpangs, because they’re no longer there. I don’t have to deny myself antything, because I dont feel like I need or want anything. Heck, I don’t really feel anything at all anymore. So I kid myself into believing that what I’m doing is actually okay. Cuz hey, I only listening to my body, right? I only doing that intuitive thing? I’m not craving anything, so why have something? Apparently right now my body doesnt really need it.
Yeah right. But once I’m there, once I’ve hit the go-button, I can no longer push ‘stop’ or even ‘pause’. Anxiety takes over and everything starts racing and spinning. My mind, my heart, my soul, my body. They all start spacing completely out of control.
I used to not realize that these days were different from ‘normal people’s normal days’. For me, they were normal days. I was in this ever-continuing state of being on the move. Because thats what comes with it; not being able to sit still. I have to be doing something, but because I have to continuisly stay busy, I end up not actually DOING anything at all. Simply because I cannot find the ‘peace of mind’ to sit still, focus and complete a task. So I stay on the move, on to the next something. At school? Yes? Okay, time to go home. Home? Yes? Okay. time to go grocery shopping. Done? Yes? Clean up the mess. Done? Yes? Walk the dog, etc. And then, when the clock hits 6, I realize Ive completed my day without actually completing anything, and still having half a day left. So I continue making up random chores to keep myself busy. And sleeping? No way. With my head in complete chaos, sleep is one of the last possible tasks it will be able to complete.
With these days also comes either social anxiety (the pre-fase) or overentertainment. The last one is when I’ve fully arrived at my auto-go-pilot-state. I’ll be babbling away, not making any sense, not completing sentences, rambling, slurring, being histerical, eyes wide open and basically being completely irritating.
And then there’s also the clumsiness. I’ve also been a dork making a fool of myself like no one else. But when in this state.. Gosh. Again, does anyone else have that? I’ll be walking faster than I can, which first of all make me look like a fool (my upperbody going faster than the lower half, so more or less ‘hanging/falling’ forward) and it makes me feel like a fool (like my shoes/feet are too big, my legs too long, my body too wobbly and flexible, etc). Second of all, it makes me clumsy in my doing. I accidentally drop things, bump into random people on my way, bump into random things (errr, walls? Doors?), papercuts when trying to read, etc. Third of all, it makes my muscles soar. I used to be able to keep this up for weeks, but now my body is used to proper nutrition, it is no longer accepting all this crap anymore. So even after half a day of not eating, Ill feel soarness in my hipmuscles when walking too long. And what do I do when I feel this? I start walking faster. It’s an instant reaction; not something ED’s voice tells me to do. This walking-faster-than-walking-too-fast thing makes me walk the way I talk. Incoherent. I start stumbling, tripping over my own feet and anything else that crosses my path. I dont properly lift my feet when taking a step, so I sort of hoover forward. And that is what it feels like, like I’m hoovering. Floating. Even though the soreness should tell me that I’m not, the mental fog makes me feel like I’m not actually part of the world anymore, hence the hoovering effect. Untill I fall flat on my face. Again.
Yes, as you have all very well realized now, I’m there. I’m in that place. That state. I’m rambling. Being incoherent. Making no sense. But at least typing this made me having to sit still for 15 minutes. Because really, I dont want to be here. Be like this. I don’t want to feel like I have to run upstairs now and do exercises. I don’t want to feel like I have to put on my skiingjacket and ignore the rain and howling winds to walk with the dog for an hour straight. Especially not since, again, I havent had more than 2 apples again today. So I made myself sit and type this.
Update: After doing this I decided to go for a drive. I had to get out of the house for a minute, and it was either driving or walking. Seriously, whenever I get this thing to go away, I’m lobbying for a law against anorexics having their driver’s license. When I’m like this, I’ll speed like a mofo and don’t take in half of what’s going on around me. I’ll be singing and screaming along with extremely loud (and bad) music, all overly hyper, and drumming away on the wheel. Thats when it happened. There was an accident. Nothing cause by me (thank God), but I saw it happening just up front the street. A car and a scooter. Right next to the take-away restaurant where one of my brother’s friends works. As the delivery boy. On a scooter. God. Don’t let it be him. Don’t let it be him. I could have been driving that car. I could have done it. I could have caused an accident. I could have killed someone. I could have killed my brothers friend.
I parked the car. The ambulance was already there, everything looked alright. No blood, the boy was half up, no sirenes, etc. Everything was okay. But I was not. I stood next to my car, hyperventilating. I very well realize anyone can cause an accident. Thats what makes an accident. Its accidental. But the state I was in should have enabled me to get into my car. What I’m doing to myself, to my body, is destructive. But it should never be a cause of destruction to someone else too. And damn it. There are people out there, innocent people, ending up in hospitals. People hurting. And I fuss about eating a proper meal. I intentionally hurt myself. And with doing that, I also intentionally hurt others. What the hell are you doing Sooz! Wake up!
So yeah, I stood there, shaking, hyperventilating for a good five minutes. Thats when I got back into the car, drove to my little brother’s and dragged him to McD’s for ice cream. I needed to breathe. Eat. And breathe again. Why does every bite get so much harder when you keep postponing it? Procastination is so, so, so bad in this disease. Did I enjoy the icecream? For the first bit, no, not at all. I couldnt even taste it. But after I calmed down and caught my breath, I let it hit me. I let it calm me. And it was good. Cold, but good. Comforting. And guess who joined for ice cream AND a burger five minutes later? Yup, my brothers friend. He had just witnessed the accident (he had apparently been inside the restaurant, seeiing it happen right in front of his eyes) and had just finished his last delivery. So he also needed a little break. And all three of us finished our orders in silence