I’m Coming Out to My Parents in This Post. Thanks, Ellen Paige.

I’m Coming Out to My Parents in This Post. Thanks, Ellen Paige.

Tired of being hurt

I think I should add to my title “and depressed” because I know that I am depressed, I’ve been here before, not exactly here, but in a similarly depressed place.  I’m seeing my psychiatrist tomorrow morning and I had to ask my roommate to take me so he could drop me off at my nine AM class.  I don’t like asking other people for things, but sometimes you’ve got to.

For one thing I am MUCH more stable in recovery, and in who I am as a person.  I also know I’m nowhere near close to ‘there’.  Which is probably a lifelong process in itself.  I guess I just mean I’m not recovered yet.  It’s like this potter who builds tea pots said in demonstration I attended, something along the lines of “when the piece looks 85% done, and you’ve worked for about two hours, you’ve got another two to go.  The last 15% takes half the time.”  Maybe that’s how recovery is? I feel like I’m still waiting, like my life is still on hold.  But think it’s slowly revving up with school at least.

I’m also making progress in getting my leg healed up.  I’ve been working with the ortho doc to determine what’s going on with it.  He says it’s a stress fracture, although he’s not 100% sure (it could be a bone tumor- probably benign if it is).  So now I’m on crutches for 8 weeks.  THAT IS SO LONG.  I guess in comparison to the 5 months I’ve been injured, it’s really not that bad.  I am so tired of being hurt though, and unable to play frisbee or run.  I hope that I will be able to weather these next 8 weeks.

This image seems like a lofty goal, although fitting.

I think I made a big decision out of shame and fear

A couple years ago I took my second semester off to go to treatment for the second time because my eating disorder was consuming my life.  Then in the spring of 2013 I was going to return to school.  I was going to a private school at the time and my parents informed me that they didn’t have enough money to keep me going there.  We investigated financial aid options and at the end realized that I would be in dept a considerable amount after graduation if I did indeed continue to attend the private university.  So I had a decision to make, and this past week I’ve admitted to myself that I made it for the wrong reasons.  

Sure there was the financial reason, and it became a clever veil for the truth.  While I still don’t know which choice was ‘right’, and maybe I’m just trying to make myself feel better for not continuing at my old school.  I go to a state school now.  I definitely think it’s a good school, but should I really have left?

A lot of people graduate with dept, and I want to go to either medical school or orthotics and prosthetics school (I think), so it’s not like I wouldn’t eventually be able to pay it back.  The truth is I was ashamed of myself, the weight I had gained, and my perceived lack of progress in recovery.  I was scared to go back to that school and the friends I had made there.  I have (and still have) this notion that if they knew the real me, they’d run away.  I kept replaying all the dumb things I’d ever said around them, and all the awkward moments, and all the times I was struggling with recovery and they knew it.

At the same time I wanted a fresh start though, and it was a lot of money that I would be in debt.  So while there were pros and cons to both staying and transferring, and I don’t think there really was a right choice, I do think that the reasons I chose weren’t the right ones.  Fear and shame were the overriding factors.  And I miss my friends from my old school so much.  My old school is where I first played frisbee, met people who were became my really good friends and happened to be gay.  It’s where I came out for the first time, and where people knew I was gay and it didn’t matter.  I guess I hold a lot of nostalgia from that time, and of course when things aren’t going as planned (like now) we all tend to look back and say “maybe I should have chose differently”.  

Thoughts cross my mind like, “maybe I would have more friends, maybe I would have a girlfriend, maybe I wouldn’t be injured” Ok, that last one is really unlikely, but I still think about it.  It’s safe to say I have regrets.  I constantly think ‘what if’.  

In the end though, I know I cannot change what’s happened, I can only move forward, and that’s what I intend to do.  I can choose recovery.  Because honestly, most of my regrets are eating disorder related.  I can choose not to isolate myself, to reach out, to keep going.

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time given us.”  -Gandalf (The Fellowship of the Ring)

 

A brief reprieve

The past two or so days (or maybe it’s just been today) have been a bit easier to get though.  I haven’t had that sense of sadness and dread at the end of the day, and I’m so thankful for that.  I’m not sure those days are behind me, I’m still not on medication (because psychiatrists are always unavailable) but I have gone out of my [own] way to do a few things that proved to be helpful.

I followed through with going to the orthotics and prosthetics place yesterday to shadow.  I also got a haircut cause I wanted one gosh-darn-it.  I called my parents about my appointment with the orthopedic doc, and my mom will be here tomorrow to go with me.  And I’ve gone to all my classes.

One thing I’m actually excited about though is that one of my best friends from high school is coming to visit me this weekend!

So I’m learning, that no matter how bad things are (or seem), there will be better days.  And as long as you hold onto that, you’ll live to see them.

You are not alone, you are not worthless, and you are stronger than you think. Did you get up this morning? Did you open your eyes and take a deep breath and try to get through one more day? Then you, my love, are tough as nails. You are a fighter. Do not ever forget it.

-Pixie Casey

For the sake of clarity

I’m not sure if I’m going to continue the “do one thing every day that scares me”.  I certainly want to continue to challenge myself, and I want to write about recovery.  So I’m not quite decided as to what I’m going to write about and how often.  

In other news, I have called my parents and my mom is going to come with me to see the orthopedic doctor on Wednesday.  I also contacted my psychiatrist’s office and have an appointment scheduled for a few weeks from now.  I really wish I could see her sooner (the psychiatrist), but it’s nearly impossible to get an appointment within a week.  I’ve had times when the nearest available meeting was a month away! It’s a good thing I wasn’t in crisis mode.

Today I’m feeling a bit more optimistic, and I think that it’s a result of multiple factors.  And by factors I mostly mean decisions I’ve made with the intent of giving myself a leg up.  So here’s to taking care of yourself. 

You’ve only got one mind and one body, and I’m trying to use ’em to the best of my abilities.