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Sometimes I can't shower

Not showering is a common problem for people with a mental illness. I know I have trouble showering during an episode. Never too serious though. Some people can go weeks without showering. I don’t think I’ve gone more than five days.

I know a lot of you don’t get it. I mean, all it is is standing in some warm water while we clean ourselves. Why are there times that we just don’t want to do it? For myself I know there are three reasons.

First, I’m too tired. Everyone knows if you are suffering from depression then you have barely any energy. It takes a load of strength just to get out of bed in the morning. Sometimes it takes strength just to open your eyes. Every little movement is exhausting. Standing up is difficult. Adding in the trouble of rubbing soap all over yourself is a step too far. And even if you are lucky to have a little energy left, you might choose to use it somewhere else; like eating or paying a bill.

Secondly, I don’t have time to waste. With hypomania, time moves much faster than it really does. I often find myself doing a few things at once. Cleaning the house while trying to watch TV at the same time and also researching graduate schools on the computer. I just do not have the patience to take a shower. Why would I want to waste that time when I could be doing something more important?

Lastly, there is the self-hatred. There are times I do not want to shower because I can’t stand my body. I can’t stand anyone seeing me. Even myself. No way can I deal with seeing myself naked. I am just so uncomfortable with myself. I rather pretend my body doesn’t exist than stand in the shower focusing on cleaning it. It’s just too much.

So those are the three reasons why there are times I do not want to shower. The majority of the time I love showering. There is nothing like taking a hot shower before bedtime. I love going to sleep feeling so clean. And a lot of times I feel better about my body when I know I’m clean. But unfortunately I forget about this when I am having a tough time. Sometimes I just can’t do it.

The most deadliest mental disorder

Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, or EDNOS, is statistically the most deadliest mental disorder, and also the least known eating disorder. A person is diagnosed with EDNOS when they have the symptoms of an eating disorder but does not meet the full criteria of another eating disorder such as anorexia or bulimia. For example an individual may restrict their eating but has not lost enough weight for an anorexia diagnosis.

The risks of EDNOS is just as severe as other eating disorders. Restricting can result in low blood pressure, reduced heart rate, hormonal imbalance, bone weakening, and heart failure. Purging can cause dehydration, heart problems, and stomach rupture.

The reason why it is the most serious eating disorder is because it is taken less seriously by sufferers. Many do not feel it is a real eating disorder therefore do not understand that it is still a problem. These people are often too embarrassed to get help; they do not feel that they are “good enough” to be diagnosed with a “proper” eating disorder.

Getting the proper treatment is also a problem with EDNOS. Because the disorder varies so much it is hard to find a proper treatment plan. An individual with EDNOS will go through the same treatment as someone with anorexia or bulimia, but this treatment is less likely to work simply because their disorder is not the typical eating disorder.

EDNOS is a real disorder. Like any other eating disorder, it is serious. Let us take a look at the numbers. 24 million Americans suffer from an eating disorder. Half of that are Americans suffering from EDNOS. Of those 12 million, 624,000 sufferers will die from a complication of EDNOS. That is a horrible number especially because it is considered not as serious as other disorders. Things need to change. When it comes to education, EDNOS should be taught at the same degree as anorexia and bulimia. It should be understood that it is just as serious, and that there is help available, just as other eating disorders.

I didn't plan to

I did something I never planned to do; I told my therapist my goal weight. The only other person that knew was my PCP. When he asked I told him I wasn’t going to tell him but then he started going off talking about how I was in therapy and this was the place to talk about that. So I told him what it was. He asked what my lowest weight was. I told him that as well. It was less than my goal weight. He said that I was in more trouble if I got down to my goal weight and then continued. He asked me why I kept going.

I did get to a point where I felt I didn’t need to lose anymore weight. The night I stepped on the scale to see that number I told myself that I could now eat. I ate chicken wings that night. After that I started gaining weight (because of a new medication they had put me on), and it didn’t stop.

This therapy session today was very good. He got me thinking in a way that I normally wouldn’t. While I was telling him things such as the reasons I felt I needed to be smaller and what I was trying to prove and why won’t I stop, I felt silly. I was embarrassed answering his questions. I’m not saying this session “saved” me, but it did make me think differently which is a good thing.

It was not completely positive though. He asked me to imagine a perfect world where I wasn’t haunted by this. I was unable to imagine that. He also used “underweight” twice while he was talking. This made me feel good and bad at the same time. I was proud that I had got to that weight. And I was sad that I probably will never be at that weight again. Which I know deep down that is a good thing. I’ve been told I was too thin. My PCP said I looked like an addict. A bit dramatic but whatever. Getting back to today..

As I was leaving he asked if this is helping. I told him that I thought so, I wasn’t completely sure yet. I did tell him that I was trying. Which is something I didn’t really want to do in the past. And this is all scary and hard for me. We are going to keep working on it.

Two days ago I moved my scale to the basement. I was trying to go every other day but seeing the scale every morning I couldn’t help but step on it. So I got it away from the bathroom. I have not weighed myself in two days. It has not been easy. I wonder when I’m going to crack and go downstairs. Hopefully the next time I find out my weight is next month when I’m weighed for my PCP. Most likely I will check my weight before then, but I like to think I can hold on. We will see.

Ice Cream

So I was feeling pretty good about my body. Not amazing of course. But I’ve been exercising daily and eating pretty well. The number on the scale has slowly been going down. I had hope. Yeah, I was feeling ok. And then I weighed myself this morning. The number went up. All of a sudden my thighs are bigger. My stomach is flabby. My arms are weak. I honestly look heavier.

How does this even happen?

I know that if that number goes up a pound or two it is not going to change the look of my body. I get that. But looking at myself through my eyes, I’m 20 lbs heavier. Why? Why do I see myself this way?

I have no motivation this morning. I just want to sit on the couch and do nothing. With a blanket over me so I don’t have to look at various parts of my body. I want to close my eyes really tight and pretend I’m smaller.

I hate warm weather. Yes it’s great. Better than winter, I agree. But there is no hiding. I am out there for everyone to see. I’m out there for myself to see. I’m stressed out. My feelings on my body actually stress me out. And I do not know how to handle that kind of stress so I just sit on the bathroom floor crying. What else can I do?

I had ice cream yesterday. It’s because of the single soft served ice cream cone. That is what made the number go up. And now I’m upset that I ate that ice cream and I can’t take it back. I can just feel the fat from that sitting on me and I can’t shake it off.

Yes, a serving of ice cream can do this to me.

Weight goals

Therapist appointment yesterday. We spent the session talking about my views on my body. Is it something that can go away or is it something I will live with? Can I learn to accept it? At the present time I cannot accept it. Of course I want to, but I only want to accept it if I have the body I want. Which obviously is not actually accepting it. I don’t know if I will ever accept it. When I was seventeen I assumed that I would be over these issues in a couple years. Here I am ten years later.

I have made two big goals. The first one being to stop thinking that I want to be thin and instead that I want to be fit. I’m hoping that will help me not feel I have to get down to my goal weight. To help with that I am training. I am hiking a large mountain next month so I am training myself for that. I have weight loss goals. I want to lose a particular amount of weight before my wedding anniversary on June 10th. Then another amount of weight before my next doctor’s appointment the beginning of July. Then the final amount before the fall semester starts. I hate having these goals. My second goal goes along with this first one.

The second goal is to get rid of my scale. I weigh myself daily, which for me is nothing. There have been times that I’ve weighed myself as much as five times a day. I want to set little goals for myself. The first being to weigh myself every other day. Then every three days. Then every four days, etc. In the near future I would like to weigh myself once a week. July 1st is what I’m aiming for. It would be amazing if I could only weigh myself once a week. And be alright with it. I don’t want to spend all week tearing my hair out because I don’t know. I want to be comfortable. But yes, my long term goal is to not weigh myself at all. I don’t like being a slave to a number.

As for my weight loss, I have hit the range that my doctor feels is the correct weight for me. This is the weight I was at when I moved here from Ireland almost four years ago. The weight I was at for a straight solid year. I am of course not happy. I feel I have a long way to go.

When

When I was five I was shown a picture of myself. I was confused. I did not know what my mom was talking about. That was not me. When it became clear that it was me all I could think about was how there must have been a mistake. That was not supposed to be my body.

When I was 27 years, 4 months, 13 days days old I looked at a picture of myself. This was not supposed to be my body.

My thinking has never changed.

When I was four my dad would carry me to bed. I would be amazed that he could carry something so heavy.

When I took swimming lessons I thought it was a miracle that the floaties could hold me up.

When my family had family portraits done I was worried that other people were going to see me stationary in a picture, looking at me for as long as they wanted.

When I ate food I thought it was just holding this body down. Instead of going off to find the right body and make the switch.

When I was seven I thought that the body I was given was taking up too much space.

When I was 16 I had hope that I could change my current body into the “right” body.

If anyone ever wondered when my eating disorder started. That was it. It was when I would sit on the floor of my bedroom, looking through magazines trying to figure out what my correct body was supposed to be. It was when I walked to CVS, bought a box of chocolate covered raisins, went to my old elementary school, laid them all out, counted them, and went home. It was when I stole diet pills. It was when I failed my driving test after staying up all night quietly exercising in my room.

When will it be over?