Shutter Speed
November 8, 2009 at 11:37 pm | In Eating disorders | 5 CommentsTags: a tricky puzzle, anorexia, bulimia, can you work it out?, communication difficulties, Eating disorders, highlight the blank screen, in the void, it's a puzzle not a mistake, mental health, mental illness, no dial tone, talking, the trouble with my stupid brain, visual aid
Most people find a blank screen, or an empty page intimidating. Me, I’m the opposite. I find it overwhelming yes, but I also find it oddly calming. The blankness, if I stare long enough into the blankness, it becomes soothing. All thoughts are calm and ordered and my racing mind slows down. It’s like deep breathing or meditation. Or medication. I almost fall into it. A panoramic view of nothing. It’s so beautiful and unblemished, just whiteness. The words are there already for me. They have already been typed. I just need to lay my fingers on the keyboard and out they come. Filling in the screen with the thoughts I never realised I had. The blank screen of a computer grounds me. Keeps me in the moment. Fingertips on solid plastic, tapping and breathing. I stay connected. Anxiety yields. Chaos is kept under control. There is no threat so no mental drawing of shutter doors.
The screen in my head does the same thing. The blank screen between me and my opinions, my thoughts, sometimes my feelings. Between me and anyone caring to see in. Questions slap against it, and drop off like dead birds falling to the floor, leaving me unscathed. Just as I said restriction is a vacuum, under threat my blank screen comes up and my brain disconnects. Leaving me staring around the room, confused. But I’m still typing inside, just typing on the other side where you can’t see it. In the void.
It’s all about you
November 7, 2009 at 2:59 pm | In Eating disorders, Family | 18 CommentsTags: anorexia, autonomy, boundaries, bulimia, control, depression, Eating disorders, I-don't-like-it-get-out-of-my-head, mental health, mental illness, posts that have been sitting in drafts for too long to mention, pride, theft, theories a bit close to home, things which have pissed me off lately
My first word, according to my Mum, was “No”, and my second word was “Mine”. For someone who made such a promising start at asserting themselves, it seems to have frittered out over the years. I’ve been thinking a lot about boundaries today. Not just because of the number of arguments I’ve had with members of the public about civil trespassing over the past week, but also because we covered boundaries in college recently.
Something pissed me off a little while ago. Something which I hadn’t really paid attention to as a trigger, but something which on reflection seems like it might have added to already crumbling recovery motivation. Something which struck me a couple of weeks ago, and then I buried in the too difficult pile. Too difficult because it involved anger. I’m not good with anger, especially with people I care about. It usually deteriorates very quickly into guilt, or bingeing. And bingeing equals pain and blood, and being out of control. Yes, anger should be avoided at all costs.
Final destination
November 6, 2009 at 5:39 pm | In Eating disorders | 18 CommentsTags: anorexia, bulimia, denial, Eating disorders, mental health, mental illness, recovery, relapse, restriction, starving
Where is this going? That’s the question in my head at the moment. It’s coming up as the bones are peeping out. I’m not weighing myself, but I am aware of being lighter. Aware of the slight inward curve of thigh, and loss of breast. The smaller indent in the sofa, the space between myself and a fellow passenger on the bus. I don’t think I’m underweight, but that’s the only thing I am fairly certain of. It’s hard to say where this is going, because it’s hard to see any further than the next time I’m going to eat. That’s restriction consuming time, gobbling up the seconds which become the minutes which become the hours. The days are beginning to fly by in a haze of cigarette breaks and mugs of low calorie hot chocolate. Days in terms of flights of stairs trod sluggishly and minutes shivering in a heated house. It’s odd to notice the way those all familiar games begin. I’m thinner, I’m thinner, check the mirror, check the mirror. Then suddenly whale like in proportions. Sleeping fully clothed with a hood up and three pairs of socks. Waking up violently after just a couple of hours, feeling my heart fitting madly and watching the veins on my arms stand up like wires under cling film. Fingers swelling. Too soon, it’s happening too soon (Please-god-don’t-let-me-die-before-I’m-thin-or-at-all-perhaps-I’ll-eat-tomorrow-I’ll-eat-more-tomorrow-just-let-me-live). Light on, shivering under the duvet, forcing down a weight watchers wafer just to get enough calories to be able to fall asleep again. Having a secret bath in the early hours of the morning, which takes an age to fill, but knowing it’s the only way to get the feeling back in my feet, and the icy hands from stroking my shoulders. Jack Frost bestowing me with a bear hug from behind. Continue reading Final destination…
Tidal Wave
October 31, 2009 at 1:56 pm | In Eating disorders | 20 CommentsTags: anger, anorexia, blockage, bulimia, communication, depression, Eating disorders, fear, I'd like an ED with a side order of denial please, it's my blog and I'll emo it up if I want to, mental health, mental illness
I promised myself after This , that I wouldn’t put myself in that situation again, ever. It was a silent vow, but one which repeated through my head again and again every day I was in treatment. That wall of defence, defiance, built up and grew sturdy with any bit of evidence I could find to support the theory that talking equated pain. It was my own Berlin Wall. But in this case the wall still exists. It circles whatever festering lump of meat remains as a heart, that clapped-out old boiler keeping blood pumped around my veins. It encases my mouth, my mind, my life. The wall is high enough to give you a crick in your neck should you choose to try and see the top. The razor wire is mounted on concrete, dirty black bricks, topped with glass shards, broken bottles, and rusty metal spikes. All debris has been piled around the outside, the battered shells of disused furniture, smouldering oil barrels and burnt out cars. Graffiti tags and urban decay mark the territory. It is wasteland. I don’t know if inside is as barren as the no mans land which surrounds, because not even I am allowed access.
Feed Me!
Ego Wall
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