Pros and Cons

I have decided it's time to push myself more with the blogging I do. Mainly because I write sporadically with months of time in between. I suppose I just feel like I don't have anything to write that people would be interested in. That is why I found a list of blogging challenges that I'm going to do with topics for blogging!

So here we go... *deep breath*

Today's topic is: What I've gained - and lost - by taking a risk. 

When I read this the first thing that popped into my head was my recovery. When I was in treatment (for depression, self harm, eating disorders, ptsd, drug abuse, and anxiety) we were often encouraged to write pro's and con's lists for decisions we were making. So when I read what the topic was it reminded me a lot of that. For much of my stay in treatment I'm not sure I was in the right mind set to make the objective lists that they were asking for, but it is a habit that has stuck with me. 

What I've lost:

My body: In recovering from my eating disorders I've put on a lot of weight. There's no other way to say it, recovery meant gaining weight. I had ignored my body for so long that I had destroyed my metabolism and my body essentially doesn't trust me (as my nutritionist put it). I get very upset because my husband will tell me that I don't eat enough, and yet it's hard to think that's true when I look in the mirror and see somebody who is overweight. I've been working on losing the weight in healthy ways, but I have a very hard time recognizing what is a healthy way to lose weight and what is not. There have been times where I have gone a day without eating, or taking too many diet pills, and I have to stop and pull myself out of that mind set. The loss of the body I once had is probably the one I mourn the most. I think about it every day, sometimes for much of the day. I know that bottom line is that the anorexia ruined my body, not recovering... but it is a difficult thing to deal with. A jump from 110 pounds (my lowest) to 200 pounds (my highest during pregnancy) is not something many people with eating disorders is comfortable with...

Friends: When you've spent years participating in self destructive behaviors it usually works out that most of your friends are doing the same things. I found that after recovery many of my friends no longer seemed excited to be around me. When we would get together they seemed uncomfortable. And then, after a while, they stopped calling or texting completely. It felt like I had done something wrong, but in reality we just didn't have much in common anymore. I remember my best friend had given me my first razor. We would show each other our scars and talk about how good it felt. We talked about how suicide made sense, and even encouraged each other with our eating disorders. After I recovered I found out that the person who had felt like a sister to me, more like another part of me than anything else, was somebody I didn't know how to talk to anymore. I still miss her.

My identity: This sounds a bit dramatic, but feels true. After I recovered I had to basically find out who I am. For many years what defined me was black clothes, depression, sad music and drugs. It also didn't help that most of the day I was either counting calories, working out, or thinking about food. I was your basic emo. When I recovered I didn't know who I was anymore. Eventually I found songs that I now relate to, and hobbies I now enjoy. The way I am with people is probably very different as well. I used to be a lot louder.... kind of everywhere. Even though I have more confidence now I did use to act more sure of myself. Now I'm probably more careful. Not exactly timid.... but not as much... well, MUCH as I was. 

Coping skills: Although they were unhealthy, many of the things I was giving up were the only coping skills I knew. Whenever I felt sad or anxious those were the things that made me feel better. It took much longer than during treatment to make healthy coping skills a habit in my life. For a while I felt confused, or like a caged animal not knowing exactly what to do when I was feeling intense emotions. I knew options that I had been given, but none of them felt right so eventually after a lot of panic I would relapse into old habits. In recovery I have now found new and healthier ones.

What I've Gained

Friends: While I do have less friends than before, I have better friends now. I know these friends will support me in being healthy and happy. These are the friends that are loyal to me and care about me as a person. I'm okay with having less as long as I have them.

Peace: My mind no longer feels like it's at war with itself. I am more capable of handling the emotions I have.  

Health: Well, sort of. I do still have a few health problems left over from when I was being unhealthy. Many of them, though, have either gone away or gotten a bit better with time. 

My family: I know that if I was still doing the things I was then I wouldn't be able to be the wife and mother I am now. Or, possibly, at all. I know for certain I wouldn't be with the man I'm with now. And it makes it so incredibly worth it when I see my son excited to see me every morning. 

My Life: When I left treatment it was against the advice of the team that I go home. I was meant to go on to a bigger hospital, and they were very sure I was going to die. They told me they were sad because they couldn't see me succeeding without further help. It took a lot of hard work, and now they are all very happy that I proved them wrong. I'm alive, and more than that I'm actually LIVING now. 

My life isn't consumed with depressive thoughts and counting calories, it's filled with beautiful experiences. It's filled with my son's smile and my husband's hugs. It's filled with everyday simple things that make me so incredibly happy. I still struggle with things, my depression and eating disorders especially, but now they're in the background of my life instead of front and center. I'm able to keep those thoughts as background noise instead of the center of my life by practicing the things I learned in treatment. A lot of my healing really was time and waiting it out. Part of why recovery was so hard is because it called for a lot of inaction. When I wanted to purge or over exercise I needed to be in the moment and okay with being at peace. That was incredibly hard for me. It took over a year of feeling manic a lot of the time because I felt so lost at how to deal with emotions I was having. After a while of not doing those unhealthy things it became slightly easier to practice new and healthier coping skills. The things that felt unnatural are now second nature. It's hard every day when I feel like I physically NEED my old habits. Sometimes not doing those things feels like holding your breath for too long. Like I need them to live and be able to cope. With every passing year, though, it gets easier and easier to say no. I find new things and reasons in life to make recovery worth while. I got my life back through recovery, and I'm thankful to every person who helped and supported me along the way. 

*Picture of me during treatment*

*current picture of me*

4 Years of Sobriety

"Strength doesn't come from what you CAN do, 

It comes from OVERCOMING things you 

once thought you couldn't."

On August 3, 2014 I celebrated my 4 years of sobriety! I've been reflecting a lot on my journey to get here, and thought that I would share some of it. 

I've written and rewritten this trying to figure out exactly how much of my story I'm ready to share with the world and realized 4 years later I'm not ready for everybody to know the details of the darkest time of my life. There are some things that I can share, though.

In the beginning I thought that Adderall would make me smarter, thinner, and better in every way. And, for a while, it did. I got good grades and I lost weight. I even made more friends than I had before starting. It didn't take long, however, for me to lose everything. I developed an eating disorder, I started self-harming, and I went into a deep depression. I got angry and frustrated with school and stopped going to most of my classes. I sunk into a depression so deep that I didn't want to live anymore. I attempted suicide several times, and have been told by doctors I really shouldn't be here anymore. I was obsessed with the idea of being the best, but it's hard to accomplish things when you aren't able to think straight. 

Nobody knew about my drug use, but it's hard to hide an eating disorder and how depressed I was so I ended up being put into a treatment center. I had a real prescription for adderall, so for about a month I was able to get my prescribed amount while there. However, fearing that it may be feeding my eating disorder they ended up taking me off of it. So for a long time I would sneak it in, getting sober enough to pass tests after home visits. Instead of working on my problems as much as I should have been it became mostly about how I could hide it. I wasn't getting necessarily getting 'high' while in treatment, but felt I couldn't getting completely sober. I would maintain myself on drugs and work on my other problems. 

I was let out of treatment after about 9 months and put into a girls home because my treatment team didn't feel like I could succeed at home. I was seeing the same therapist and saw her about once a week.     

   

However, without a prescription for adderall it was becoming hard to maintain and I had already decided to start using again. I started doing heavier drugs during this time, and was only able to stay out of treatment for two months. I got put back in on Christmas Eve. I had started self-harming again and not eating. This time when I went back in, though, I admitted to using drugs. I finally started working on what was the missing piece in my treatment. I got out of treatment shortly before my 18th birthday, and went home this time against the wishes of my doctors. They were pushing for me to go into the state hospital for further treatment, but I was able to convince my family that I would do fine at home.
Recovery at home wasn't easy. I started seeing a terrible therapist who didn't believe in eating disorders and told me I needed to pray more. I felt like I would die without drugs. Every day was a struggle to even get out of bed and function. Some days I wasn't able to get out of bed at all. I felt like I would die without it, but knew the depression from before. I knew the misery and loneliness I felt while using and felt that I would rather die than use. That is not to say that I didn't relapse at all. Recovery wasn't just a point in my life where it was clear and I just did it. I relapsed several times after treatment. Every time I knew I could die, but it was the only way of life that I knew. Drugs, my eating disorder, and self harm was all I knew for handling emotions. It takes a while to grow out of that. 

All I can say now is that it has been worth it in every single way to get sober. Overcoming these things was the hardest thing I have every had to do. Some days I still think about them, and it is still a struggle. I owe it to myself and my family to stay sober. I started dating my now husband when I was a year sober, and he has been with me through these struggles. It hasn't been easy for either of us, and I am thankful every day for the things he has helped me with. We have the most amazing little boy, and looking into his face I know I owe it to him to give him a mom who is there in every way for him. I can't do that when caught up in illness. Love for my family has finally pulled me completely away from this lifestyle. I'm a bigger weight than I want to be and instead of doing the things I thought I would be for now I am a stay at home mom, but the funny thing about it is that I'm happier than ever. Recovery didn't look like what I thought it would, but it's beautiful and worth it. 

I know this blog post is kind of chunky and parts don't flow well, it was hard to put into words my memories in a way I was comfortable with. I knew I wanted to share, just not exactly how or what I would share. Thank you for taking the time to read this.