feeling festive.

so christmas finally rolled round yesterday- i hope everyone had an awesome day! my day was spent with my mum's side of the family and the boy. we did all the usual things- exchanged presents, ate, drank and soaked up the sun whilst catching up. my mum's side is italian which means there is never any shortage of amazing food at our family gatherings which is both a pro and a con. anyone struggling with weight issues would understand why...

the real highlight for me though was christmas eve. for many years it's been a tradition in my home town for most people around my age to venture to the local pub. it's always a really great night because, like me, many young people move away to the city once they hit eighteen or so to attend uni, establish their own lives etc but christmas is the one occasion where everyone returns to the country and reunites.

for most of the year i've been living in isolation. i hardly go anywhere or see anyone except my immediate family, B, a couple of close friends and my 'recovery team' (ie. psychiatrist, psychologist + hormone specialist). a few months ago you would have been hard pressed to get me in a semi-public place like a cafe let alone a pub, club or bar. i've spent most of the year not only severely depressed and anxious, but ridiculously self-conscious about my appearance due to my hormonal issues (and ectopic pregnancy) wreaking havoc with my hair, skin, weight etc. by some miracle (or perhaps sheer christmas spirit) i managed to muster up enough confidence to go out on christmas eve with one of my closest friends, T and some other girls i used to hang out with- and i'm glad i did! it was so lovely seeing old friends and being social again, and many people commented that it was great to see me out and looking a bit brighter which was kind of them.

i really can't believe 2012 is drawing to an end, however i couldn't be more enthused to see the back end of such a horrible year. 

on that note, i'll leave you with some recent festive photos. 

1. the 'modern' christmas tree i made out of branches for my parent's house (prior to presents being placed underneath). 

2. a few of the goodies i received- still loving the shit out of my wang may i add!

3.  a rare selfie. 

4. my christmas eve outfit (although i replaced the sportsgirl sandals with a pair of black sportsgirl wedges at the last minute). 

5. a little bit drunk and a little bit blurry with my babe, T. 

6. cute chrissy kisses from B. 

"you're looking well"

 

i haven't wrote aboout my eating disorder for a little while now, however that doesn't mean my issues surrounding my weight/ food have magically disappeared- unfortunately those ed voices inside my head still taunt me on a regular basis...sometimes they influence me more significantly than other times, but for the last couple of months i have mostly been successful at ignorning them...that is until yesterday when three little words sent me into a temporary frenzy.

 

i had an appointment with my psychiatrist whom i hadn't seen in four weeks. i like NP- he's a little more down to earth than some psychiatrists i've encountered and we get along well. earlier in the year when i spent a solid six months or more refusing to take medication due to overwhelming anxiety that i'd potentially gain weight NP was patient and understanding. every session we'd discuss the benefits of taking an anti-depressant versus the drawbacks and i'd leave agreeing to at least trial something. in the beginning there were a few meds that he urged me to try, however as time passed and i still refused to commit to anything he wasn't as concerned about what brand of SSRI/SNRI i was taking, more that i was actually taking something, anything for longer than a few days (yes i'm the first to admit i'm a difficult patient, but i really don't mean to be). every time i'd return to see him i'd confess that i either hadn't filled the prescription at all or my anxiety had got the better of me and i'd given up on the meds.

 

finally, after an enormous amount of reassurance i found the courage deep within to start taking the medication properly and have done so for the last ten weeks or so now. the weight issue has still played on my mind and i've been tempted to discontinue the treatment as i've done numerous times before but have stuck it out for the sake of my sanity and quality of life.

 

during my worst ed phases (which may last for only days or weeks on end) my scales are basically glued to the bottom of my feet. i weigh myself up to seven or eight times per day- first thing in the morning, after eating or drinking, after going to the toilet and last thing at night. i realise this is madness, but in some warped way constantly weighing myself  defuses my anxiety and provides me with a sense of control. i've been relieved to see that thus far the anti-depressants haven't negatively affected my weight. of course the number fluctuates 1-2kgs throughout the course of a month due to my hormones etc, and during the period of time i was pregnant i seemed to be quite bloated, but overall i still weigh the same as i did several months ago which has caused me to become increasingly lax with my daily weighing rituals. in fact, until yesterday i hadn't weighed myself in a fortnight or so which is some kind of record for me.

 

for anyone suffering from an ed, certain 'things' may trigger obsessive thoughts, self-loathing, destructive behaviour etc. for me one of these triggers is being told any variation of "you're looking well". now please understand that the logical rhiannon knows that receiving a comment of this nature is usually meant as a compliment not a criticism, however the ed rhiannon automatically associates looking well with weight gain. upon entering NP's consulting room yesterday, one of the first things he uttered was "you're looking well, rhiannon". perhaps it was the fact that i actually applied a full face of makeup when i usually attend psych appointments looking like death, or perhaps it was the light bronze shade i have turned from sitting out in the sun lately-i don't know, his comment could have been based on a number of observations, however, my mind immediately started to jump to conclusions that he must think my frame is starting to look fuller...healthy...fat.

over the course of an hour we discussed my progress and what my goals are for the coming year etc, but not my weight. i struggled to pay him my full attention because all i could think about was how much i was itching to get home and jump on those scales to ensure that i hadn't gained and his comment was based on something other than my figure.

 

sure enough the first thing i did once safely home was weigh myself. i stepped on those dreaded scales silently repeating to myself "please be light, please be light" but expecting to see the worst. to my surprise the dial read dead on 50kgs- i hadn't gained, thank god. relief washed over me and my mind was at ease once again. it's moments like these that emphasise to me just how much of a grip my ed has on me, despite at times fading into the background. it's crazy that a number on a set of scales can dictate my anxiety level, mood and self-esteem.

 

in other news, tomorrow i have to attend a family lunch for my nonno's 80th birthday. it's being held at a local restaurant and not only will my immediate family be there but extended family too. this will be the first time i've attended a family event since april- throughout winter i was too sick to go out and tried to avoid people at all costs. i'm quite nervous as i don't really want to engage in conversation about my current state with relatives i hardly see and i'm pretty ashamed that i'm not doing anything productive with myself right now. luckily B will be there with me for support and i can always count on my younger sister to calm my nerves with her sense of humour which is nothing short of hilarious.

and then she disappeared...

 

these photos of me were both taken last september just before i got sick.

the first was taken before one of my shifts at jigsaw. the second was taken one night out with two of my good friends, T and A. when i look at myself in these photos i feel like i don't even recognise this girl anymore. she seems so elusive now...a ghost...a mere memory of a past life.

 

i desperately miss the old me.

the me that worked like most other people my age, the me that studied to shape a career, the me that was social and had a lot of friends, the me that wasn't exactly 'high on life' but wasn't living in a nightmare either, the me that was independent and self-sufficient, the me that smiled and laughed more... the me that wasn't completely debilitated by depression and anxiety.

 

i miss this rhiannon and i hope and pray daily that somehow i'll be able to find her again...surely she must still exist somewhere deep inside of me, right?

i apologise for the depressing post...i guess i'm feeling a bit crap today.


defeated.

 

i've caved and started anti-depressants (cymbalta 30mg to be exact).

i've fought fucking hard to avoid having to resort to this..

and my psychiatrist has fought equally as hard to try and medicate me.

i'm scared as absolute hell about potentially gaining weight,

and i feel so disappointed in myself that i've finally succumb to a chemical aid.
 i should be stronger than this. i know i'm stronger than this- but not at present.
i feel like a failure..but the truth is i cannot live like this anymore.

my quality of life has suffered so much over the past twelve months and it kills me seeing time slip away and my dreams being held on the backburner whilst i  continue existing in this warped reality inside my head.   

i have agreed to trial the SNRI for a month at minimum (i know that it takes this long for the meds to start taking effect) but have firmly stated that if for some reason my weight begins to escalate then i will promptly discontinue the treatment.

i know to most this rationale would seem pretty ridiculous, particularly if the cymbalta successfully stabilised my mood and decreased my anxiety, but unfortunately my issues surrounding my weight/ shape/ size are insanely controlling, and being a perfectionist by nature makes me a slave to this disordered thinking. i'm working with my psychologist to try and conquer my obsession with being rail thin and to establish some more healthy beliefs about my image and sense of self-worth, however this is a work in progress.

i'll let you know how i get on.



an ugly exterior.

something i really struggle with is being content with my appearance.
the majority of the time when i stare into the mirror i feel like bursting into tears for all i see is a flawed reflection gazing back at me.

it gets me pretty down seeing other girls around the place,
with their pretty faces, beautiful hair, perfect figures-
exuding confidence and natural beauty.

it probably sounds like i have a case of the green-eyed monster, however, i'm not envious..
i just wish i could feel more comfortable in my own skin.

is that too much to ask? 

fat.

really been struggling lately and it's getting me down. if only i had more will power to stop myself from eating. whenever i go out in public i find myself analyzing other girl's bodies; their thighs, their stomachs, their arms and ass. whenever i walk past a shop window or mirror and see a reflection of myself i feel like crying. this is fucked.

on another note, T came around last night. i'm glad he's back, i can't handle the rejection and i think he's the only one that can tolerate me and my stupid issues.

moody.

i am so fucking hungry. i feel like i've got some kind of problem where i constantly crave food. it's disgusting. lucky for me i'm usually too lethargic from being depressed to make regular trips to the supermarket- like right now. as a result i sit around fantasizing about food, debating whether to drag my sorry ass out of the house to fulfill my hunger pains. leaving the house and facing the world would require me to shower, get dressed, do my hair and paint my face on though, all of which i can't be fucked doing.

the upside of starving is the satisfaction i get from controlling myself and not downing a heap of fat-inducing shit. the downside is how moody being hungry makes me. anything and everything fucks me off. so when i'm like this, it's best for me to go to sleep. sleeping is probably my only saviour when i don't want to feel anything, particularly if i don't have access to alcohol or a similar mood-lifting substance.

in other news, T was supposed to come round last night. i stayed up waiting for him to arrive but he never did. i am 98% convinced that shit is going down behind my back. mother fucker.

hunger strike.

if food wasn't essential for survival, i would be happy never to eat again.

this weight thing has been playing on my mind a lot..to the point where i'm conscious of everything i swallow. i stare at myself in the mirror on a daily basis and see the deposits of fat that have formed around my hips, stomach and thighs, and it kills me. since i was fifteen or so i've always been a bit weight obsessed. i've never had a full blown eating disorder or anything, but there have been periods over the years where i've severely restricted my food intake in order to remain a certain size or number on the scales..when everything around you is chaos, it's comforting knowing you have control over at least one aspect in your life. i long to see my collar bones protruding again and a significant gap between my thighs. maybe, just maybe if i were thinner he would have stayed..maybe he wouldn't have left me for that skinny bitch.

the long road.

i suspect the next 6-8 weeks at the least are going to be testing as i come off my meds. yesterday i saw my doctor and decided to wean myself off of zoloft..the healthy, sensible approach and all. after being weighed and realising i have gained 7kgs on this bloody drug in a short 6 months i am quite distressed and a massive part of me wants to go cold turkey so i can get this shit out of my system asap before i balloon out further. the thing with this weight gain is that it literally seemed to creep up on me out of nowhere. for the first 4 months or so everything was fine, i was functioning better, feeling more stable, happier etc and then in the last 2 months, BOOM hello flab, goodbye clothes that used to fit. i've never had a weight issue so don't really know how to go about shedding these extra kilos. i've been naughty and skipped my dose the last few days..starting to feel the withdrawal symptoms again, nausea, aggitation, dizziness and my emotions have been running wild in the last 24 hours alone. i couldn't stop myself from crying last night for a good hour for no reason at all and have been feeling quite irritable. the sensation that is the most unusual by far is the feeling that my brain is slipping and everything surrounding me has been put in fast forward mode. hopefully as the drug comes out of my system these sensations pass and my body adjusts.

i'm going to up my exercise, vitamin B tablets and focus on eating well. i suppose the only other thing i can do is sit tight and hold on for the ride.