Hello, Me! #1

Hello world, this is Me!

At least I am on my way to separate from her (Bulimia) and I’m cutting her out to find my true self.
I gave you a chance to look inside of me in my posts on this blog. I did not leave out the negative days on which I was devastated, binged my pain away and purged my heart out, and yet I will finally try to focus more on my positive side. I can be sad if I want to, yes, but I want to prove myself and the world that there is more to me than this sensitive, emotional and breakable self that relies so much on self-pity, self-rejection, self-hate and self-destruction, that she (Bulimia) has created. She created this self in order to protect my true self, I am sure, but she has taken it to far. I don’t need to be protected from the real world. Not anymore. Yes, that is what the true Me was scared of: the world. Because Me didn’t know what part she is playing in it, Me doesn’t know why she is here, why she is who she is and what makes her real. But eventually I will figure this out.

I had a date yesterday. I don’t want this guy and I told him. However, we still went to see a movie. It was so awkward. Not because I had told him that I did not want to date him and not because I told him again how I miss my ex boyfriend but it was simply awkward inside of me. I was sitting next to him and my mind took off.
If I could have talked to myself it would have sounded like this:

Me: What am I doing here? I don’t want to be here.
Inner Voice: Where, here? You can get up and leave.
Me: I could, but I don’t even know where I should go. What I should do?
Inner Voice: You are lost.
Me: I am.
Inner voice: You could go home and eat, and feel good.
Me: No, that is not why I am feeling bad. I don’t know where I belong. Do I really want to be here? What am I doing? Where is this leading?
Inner voice: You just have to be perfect, finish your work and you will succeed.
Me: I am trying, but I feel like I will lose. I’ve always lost in my life. But all I want is to be happy.

… it went on and on. Then after the movie I started thinking again about if I consider myself happy in this society or in Germany. And it is so strange to think about this. I miss Germany, the country, Europe, the people, my friends, family, but I love America, too. And I never really have a perfect time while I am in Germany. It is so unreal, but when I am here I want to escape to Germany and when I am in Germany I long to be back in the States.
… only when I am in the mountains I feel whole. And it doesn’t matter where the mountains are. I just need to be surrounded by nature’s mightiest power. I feel safe. I need to go back tot he mountains. I need to escape.

It’s all about Heimat. I mean, in defintion my Heimat is Germany. The place where I was born and raised, but I have made so many painful and in a way traumatic experiences there, that I probably felt like escaping that world. Try to find my very own Heimat.
Home is where your heart is, I guess. But that doesn’t make it any easier for me to figure it out.
Maybe that is why I am seeking to find true love so badly? Because if my heart would know where it belongs, it would not matter to me anymore where I was.
Only then, I feel and fear, I would know where I belong.

But, I wished, I was selfish enough as to say that I want to be happy for myself in first place. I want to be happy with the choices I make for myself, and I want to be free and independent in the things I do.
I saw that in Daniel. I admired him for the way he is, and I told him that. For me, I told him, he is perfect. Even though I realized now that perfection is nothing I should strive for. Or is it?
Well, not as long as it is hindering you to be who you are.
And my perfectionism is part of what she had created.
Yet I am a little confused by the term p e r f e c t i o n i s m … I mean, it sounds so positive, so light and so powerful, but all it has done to me is f a i l u r e.
How is that possible? It is messed up, just like my life.

I feel finding Me is not as easy.
I am afraid of Me.
I scared of the way to Me.

How shall I approach this? I wished there was a manual. Like a 10-step booklet or so. I would die to have it.

What I truly desire, lies within the secret of who I really am.

Who am I? This question is going through my head daily. Sometimes, I am able to push it aside. Sometimes I am just not. Today I think I should face it.
I cannot concentrate on my working tasks – I know I need to, and I will later, but I think maybe just in this very moment I need to focus on myself. Again.

So, I tried to think back on situations in my life in which I seem to have known myself and what I wanted.
Very difficult.
I remember that when I was 3 or 4 and competed in my first skiing races, I was devasted if I did not win a medal. I really was, although I just started skiing. But I lost and I thought I was actually a good skier. So, I envied those who won. They were all older and bigger than me, but all that mattered to me was: I lost. I can’t remember if my Dad at that time put pressure on me. I don’t think so. May have though. At any rate, when I was 13 I finally won first prize and I was proud, although my brother was putting me down in saying I was the oldest who competed, so it is not really a success. He was jealous a lot I suppose. I mean, he always pinched me or slapped me, and I always ran away from him, hiding in my “cave” or even in my closet. He must have had a lot of anger inside him when we were young and I don’t blame him at all. I sometimes wonder if he has come to terms with our parent’s divorce and the way Dad in a way rejected us. He had his own new family and we had to struggle daily.
Anyway, so I was born a perfectionist I believe, but I was never the best in anything.
Well, I was able to read when I was 4, but who cares? I mean once I entered Elementary school, I might have been ahead of some but I mean, they all picked it up fast. I was a good student. But I got very depressed if I was not as good as someone else. I always compared myself. I gave up quickly, too. I am not a fighter but I always wanted to be.

I always had such high expactations and at the same time high moral views and values. I also believed that I can accomplish anything I wanted, but for some reason I failed most of the time. I stumbled and fell. Every day.

When I was still in elementray school I believed in friendship. But I lost my best friends so easily to others who seemed to be so much better than me. I mean I was the one whose parents were divorced. I could never count on my dad. I had this big brother who would put me down and punch me if I did not do what he said. I could not do all the same things my friends did because I had to do hat my mom said, and we did not have the money for all the things other kids could have and do..
I have many friends today, but noone is like really close to me. Well, at least not in the sense that they REALLY know me. They know the person I presented to them: Funny, sarcastic, outgoing, direct, stubborn, sensitive, moral, sweet, courageous, smart, just living life. BUT, I am not. I don’t believe that is me. Maybe that is the only problem: I don’t believe in myself and if I walk through the streets alone, I am small, I want to disappear. At the same time if I walk through the streets with a friend, I know I am minor, too, although I wished I was ‘the better’ one. My friends would never think I would think that way… It’s just so ridiculous… over the time I have managed to master in my behaviors. I would be the one, bringing people together laying emphasis on the idea of LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL, bound to teach tolerance, acceptance, individuality, while I myself felt like a failure constantly.

Another thing I always held on to for example was the idea of true love. I am kind of disenchanted with this belief today. Now that I have made painful experiences myself, but I always believed in the power of genuine love. It just never reached my ideal conception. And I am scared love as I believe in it does not exist or that I cannot receive it that way. And it is making me so angry, because I feel like there is so much love inside of me and I want to share it. But I feel like I have wasted it most of the time. I feel like I have made naive choices in the past. I regret so many steps I took to find that love. It has only been painful. Rejection, disappointment, abuse… all not contributing to my illusion of love. And all I want is feel it, I want to know how it is like to truly be loved and love that person back. Of course, I know my mom loves me and I love her, but I mean to find that special someone.
I cannot understand why I fail all the time.
Why do I scare people?
Why do I get scared myself?
Why does my heart tell me lies, why does it lead me into misery all the time?
All I want is to be happy.

I always thought just because I have not been deported from my country of origin, have not lived in diaspora, or was moved around in the early years of my life, that I knew who I am or better that I have to know who I am. I have never experienced anything traumatic myself, well, my parent’s divorce and the fact that I have been taken advantage of from several guys sexually, but if that already wrecks me where is my life going then anyway?
I know the world is a bad, cruel and unfair place, but I was fortunate enough to have the life I am in right now. I am not starving (I chose to or binge), I am not poor (but always spend my money right away), I have a job, a place to live, a car, a cat, friends, family… I should be happy.

But I guess the secret of who I am and what I really desire lies inside of me.

A day of a Bulimic

I am working actually but this stupid file transfer shows me it will take 38 minutes and since the program cannot be used while transferring files, I will simply write another blog entry.
I realized that my latest posts were sort of lacking the right depth as well as the right focus. Lately, I found it very difficult to concentrate and to even put my thoughts together in an effective way, maybe that is also why I cannot really concentrate.

Ok, now I would like to present you with what my days actually look like. I mean, I am living in a western society, namely the USA. People may think, heck it is just like everyone else’s day and that may be so, if there was not Bulimia my invisible and invincible half-of-my-lifetime partner.

A day with Bulimia. And it’s raining down on me from the moment I get up…

Kata Kabanova - Eduard Tomek

4:30am : my cat jumps up and down the bed, you can hear him hanging in the blinds, throwing down a glass that is still half full. I’m waking up, feeling horrible, remembering that just 5 hours before I was leaning head over in the toilet. My neck is stiff, my muscles in my arms and shoulder sore, especially my left arm. I feed the cat getting back to bed already thinking about everything that is ahead of me this very day. My thoughts are circling and again the question “Will I finally be able to end a day like everyone else? Not binging and purging?” I feel like I need at least an hour more rest but will not fall asleep before 5.30 if at all.

6:00 am: my alarm clock is singing “Guten Morgen, guten Morgen, guten Morgen Sonnenschein…” I turn it off. My body is weak from last night’s session. I feel horrible. But I know I have to get up. I need to get a lot of things done today to fit in this society. So I do. My cat is licking my hand, eventually starting to bite it, all happy that he can finally hunt my ankles and bite my legs.

6:20 am: I am off for my daily run. I pick up a friend on the way, listen to what she has to say, being annoyed by some of the superfluous content, while my mind remembers the way I looked in the mirror this morning. All fat and ugly. Exhausted. I keep running, it makes me feel alive. My heart rate is low, I am used to running to much, I need to run more in order to challenge myself and also to loose these extra 10 Ibs.

7:30 am: I am back at my Apartment. Feeling a little energized to star the day and to eat right and healthy. I feel confident that I can do it and that I will recover.

8:20 am: I am at the bus stop waiting for my bus to school. I am wearing a new T Shirt… in the bus someone tells me that I still had the tag on my shirt. I feel so embarrassed while I try to tell myself that this is nothing. It is ok. It can happen to everyone. But it is putting me down. I already feel ashamed about myself, about what I did again last night. I feel like if I look at someone that person can tell. But how would they know? It is a well-kept secret.

9:00 am: I am at Starbucks getting my morning Soy Chai. It is too sweet and I already feel bad about it. I am counting calories. I get lost in thoughts about my weight. I feel my fat wobbling when I walk. I wished I were somewhere or someone else.

Then I usually manage it to work a little bit, while I get distracted very easily.
I get hungry; eat grapes and a rice cake. Have a stomachache. Feel awful. Wished last night did not happen. Wished I were pretty. Wished I were successful. Wished I were not stupid. Wished I could keep my own personal promises and reach my own ideals. I am a failure.

I will eventually eat something like yoghurt and fruit or even a bagel for lunch and drink lots of tea, apple juice or coffee. Feeling awful about anything I consume.

3:00pm: I am getting tired and exhausted. I know I have to work more, so I do and I end till 4 or 5 pm. Time to go to the gym. 70 minutes running is not enough. I need to swim at least 30 minutes or longer or go to exercise after the swim. I need to. I want to be perfect. I need to fit in.

7:00pm : I am taking the bus home. I should have went back to the office working a little more to not be faced with being home alone. I cannot wind down. Not at home but not somewhere else. I have optimistic plans on my evening home alone. I want to cook a healthy and well- balanced meal, eat it while enjoying a good glass of wine or a beer. Watching a DVD or online TV. I would love to relax, but I am already stressed out about what all I have to accomplish the next day, in my life and in recovery. I am overwhelmed by the world I live in and I am overwhelmed with who I am. For all my thoughts circle around this very thought and I cannot figure it out.

If all goes well, I decide to go to bed early.
Sometimes I end up drinking.
If I end up drinking I am most likely to end up binging and purging, but even if I don’t drink I may end up in Bulimia’s arms, my last resort in moments of full self denial and rejection, lost hope and faith, being so lonely that the pain inside is screaming as loud as it can, not waking me up though, but making myself numb for the reality, so I am again torn into purging, trying to get rid of it that way. But I fail. And even though I know I will fail, I try again and again, harder and harder… It is a battle already lost, but I tell myself that lost battles can lead to new beginnings that can be even more powerful, substantial and puissant.

And so I fight the night. Again.

Self doubts and destruction

Ok, I know i don’t find myself in the toilet, but still I always turn to it in times like… tonight… I can’t believed I screwed this day of structured eating… It was actually a really good day… and I ruined all my efforts. Of course, I feel horrible, and worthless. It is embarrassing most of al towards my own self that I again chose to purge instead of sitting down looking inside myself to finally reveal the reasons. One thing I learned tonight, structured eating during the day does not help me overcome the nights. My problem is just too deep, too painful, and too strongly attached to m true self that it is just so difficult to tear it off and throw it apart. I always try when I purge my heart and soul out but all it leaves is more damage. No cure, no solution to the problem.
I want to be myself so badly and I want to be happy. Happy with who I am. But I don’t know who that is. Who am I?
It feels like there is this neverending battle inside of me fought by my true self and the self I was raised to be, the one I am supposed to be – probably the one my true self despises and hates, just like I hate me. Maybe my true self is loveable and pure.
Why do I have to struggle so badly?
I think this was one of the triggers why tonight failed me in making this day worthy… I was with 3 friends and we also went to Ikea and out for dinner, so I was constantly reminded on what I am not. I saw many happy couples shopping for furniture, I saw happy families; momma running ater the 3 year old who just did what came to his mind not caring about anyone or anything around him, so free. I was reminded on how stressed I am. What was I thinking not be working? And then going for dinner. Everyone enjyoing the food, laughing, not caring about how many calories the dish had, or that this spoon was actually the one telling me that now it did not matter anymore… I would purge anyway… I hate that. I cannot enjoy food at all, I cannot enjoy the time with my friends, because all I can think of from one point on is: home, purge.

The last time I can remember that I truly enjoyed food and eating was with Daniel not too long ago… I made dinner with him or we went to Mandola’s. I did not care about food at all. Just being with him made me really happy.
Can someone be happy alone? Wouldn’t that be selfish?
Why can’t I be allowed to be happy just by making someone else happy? i thought I did make him happy, but I was wrong and that hurts so much. How can I be so wrong in everything I do, in everything I perceive, in everything I think… in the way I am.

Krajina - Eduard Tomek

At the psychologist

I went to see Paula this morning and it was a good session… just extremely overwhelming.
And I took another step today: I talked to my “boss”. She was very understanding and I am glad she knows. She is great and I promised that my job will not suffer from this – in fact, work is the only thing I can still rely on and hold on to as well as pull myself out with from the real world around me.

At any rate. The session was basically about my family history or better my mom’s and grandparents family history.
Another issue we hit was me and my trust issues esp. with men which then connected to my past and my relation to my dad.
I guess my life has been stressful ever since I was born. Traumatic she called it. And I guess, I have just never talked to anyone about it really.

She talked to me about my self-confidence (which is at the moment not really existing) and we also leveled out, that I’m living in these two worlds.

There was so much, and I wished I could jsut write it all down, but I guess I need a while to let it sink in myself and maybe it organizes itself a bit and I will post on it later in more detail.
Gosh there is just so much.
I will need to reread my blog and make an analysis of the patterns I can find….

Also, I will go and weigh myself today. I’m very very scared, but I need to, because yesterday the not-knowing was one of the factors to push me to the b/p.

I wanna get better soon!

Maybe I need more than one session with Paula each week to speed it up. I will ask her about it.
Also, Amanda was saying something like she will not be able to see me any longer and I should find a nutritionist in the community. But I am just not sure…
I know when it’s about my health money should not matter, but if you don’t have that money it does matter and seeing Paula is not cheap already.

I need to find myself though.
I am so lost.

Survey – you are not alone!!

This is a quick poll to see how today was like for us bulimics and to show others that we are not alone. There are A LOT of us and we all need help.

Help can only be helpful if people understand!