"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.

want.

sass and bide 'talara' sunglasses in toirtoiseshell

 

 

 

zimmermann 'flourishing bow' bikini

 

 

 

 

 

vans 'authentic lo pro' in black floral.

 

 

mimco 'nubula chain wrist bracelet' in rose gold

 

 

ksubi 'black cat cee cee roll' shorts

 

tony bianco 'jamelia' sandals in rose gold.

 

 

 

sass and bide 'we own the night' tee

 

 

 

seriously wanting these items for summer! in other news, i've been feeling a bit better of late- i hate to admit it but the anti-depressants probably do help me. i've been staying at my own apartment in the city more and engaging in daily activities that i used to enjoy instead of being curled up in bed all day hoping that the ground will swallow me up. yay!



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.



the calm before the storm.

currently sitting on my balcony, cup of green tea in hand, watching the world pass below me. it's one of those days where the sky is overcast and the air is very still. any moment now it'll start pouring with rain. the weather is somewhat a reflection of my state of mind right now- cloudy, eerily still, on the edge. after having a panic attack yesterday and being taken to hospital thanks to my own stupidity, i'm back on these darn meds and have resorted to doing this the doctor's way, because i suppose she knows best and all..withdrawals have tapered off at least, now i'm just left feeling hollow.

after the week i've had, i think i need some retail therapy so will be heading to the city later this evening. i've had my eye on a peach romper from forever new, a sass and bide tee (unsure of the name) and a wish drapy singlet. i've also got an amazing pair of wedges on layby at sportsgirl so may pick those up too. will post pics of my purchases in the near future.

in the words of cassie, "it's like, hazy days..you know?"

addiction.

this is intense. i never thought coming off prescription medication would wreak so much havoc with my body. now i somewhat know how a heroin addict feels!

i know you all probably don't want to read about this, but i'm going to keep a log of this process so once this shit-fight is over i can look back over this and be reminded never to get involved with this supposed 'wonder' drug again. four days without meds and this is where i'm at..

spent most of last night awake due to chronic insomnia + whenever i would try shut my eyes they would blink like crazy. ended up taking some codeine to knock me out so i could at least get a few hours rest.

very nauseous, feeling like i could vomit at any second.

quite aggitated, finding it difficult to just relax.

chronic vertigo, if i move my head too fast it feels like the room is spinning.

not feeling as teary or moody, although i've been by myself the last 24 hours so haven't really had anyone to lash out at.

if anyone is thinking of going on zoloft, i urge you to think seriously about it. i can't wait to be drug-free. in hindsight, i probably should have just stuck to some good old CBT.

going to eat some breakfast, go for a short walk to get some fresh air and try to remain hopeful that this too shall pass.

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.

coming down.

i've decided i don't want to be on anti-depressants anymore. i've been dwelling on this thought for several days now, weighing up the pros and the cons of being on meds. those around me who i've mentioned the idea to think i'm completely crazy of course, particularly my mother who made statements such as "i don't think you're ready to come off them". my question is, exactly when and how do you know if you're ready to come off meds, especially if you are a long time sufferer of depression? i mean i know with or without them i will always still have 'down days', it's just the nature of the beast. i don't want to take meds forever, that wasn't the idea when i initially started taking them..they were supposed to help me rise from a very dark place, which i think they have succeeded at to a degree.

i guess i don't like the thought of having to rely on a drug to enable me to function on an everyday basis, and i think this is what it's coming to. about a month ago i ran out of pills and for whatever reason wasn't able to get to a chemist to put in another prescription so went three or so days without and started experiencing the awful withdrawals. chronic nausea, aggitation, dizziness and the feeling that my brain was shaking inside my skull.

i have an appointment with my doctor on tuesday to discuss this matter. i think i need to do this for myself, regardless of what others think. i don't want chemicals to rule my body anymore, but on the flip side i'm hoping i won't slip back into major depression without them.

last night I had the strangest dream..

i sailed away to china,

in a little row boat to find ya,

and you said you had to get your laundry cleaned..

in all seriousness though, i've been having the most bizarre dreams of late..several in one night. a mish-mash of random events involving an array of people i've been acquainted with throughout my life. I blame the new anti-depressants i've been taking, but do you ever wonder if dreams are some sort of representation? or if their meanings are supposed to translate into reality? i find dreams intriguing..like the sub-conscious trying to tell the conscious some hidden truth.