Spilling Our Guts: Brynna

I got on Facebook this morning and saw this status update from my dear friend Brynna. I met her at Center for Change and I've seen her fight and struggle and grow. I've never met anyone who wants to want recovery as much as she does. And if you're lucky she might sing for you... :) 

Having an eating disorder is definitely not as glamorous as people think. Losing weight is a SIDE EFFECT, not the goal.

First, you get a high that eventually goes away. The dizziness, lightheadedness, memory loss, sleepiness. Suddenly, your day is completely filled with temptation, and your nights are filled with sleeplessness, nightmares of binging.

You push everyone away. Nothing matters to you anymore. You become mean and volatile, irritable to no end. You can't stop thinking about food, and the food causes fear inside of you that cannot be explained.

You wish that you could move on. You wish that you could be a better person. You wonder how the hell you got to where you are. You are doing things that you never thought you'd do.

You turn to other addictions to run away from this one. Stealing, lying, sneaking around. Running, smoking, drugs, drinking. But nothing can take you away, can numb all the pain. NOTHING.

Except, pushing past your fears. Eating. Eventually, the constant thoughts will go away. At least, that's what they say.

You'll have to put your trust in someone else, in SOMETHING else.

I've been bulimic since I was 15, anorexic since I was 13. It's NOT glamorous. I wouldn't wish this lifestyle on anyone. But, I have seen people take steps to make their life better, people who have suffered just as long, and even longer, than I have. And I have hope. And sometimes that's all I have to hold onto. 

Spilling Our Guts: Kristina

I met Kristina at CFC. She blew in like a breath of fresh air. At least to me. She sent herself there. She wanted to show her family and friends that she was committed to making a change in her life. When I first got to know her (over a game of Bananagrams) I thought to myself, "Seth (my little brother) would LOVE this girl..." She is so vibrant, honest, intelligent, interesting, beautiful, fun, funny, and lovable. Her smile is infectious. She is tough. She is a fighter. I'm so blessed to know her, and so thankful for her willingness to share her story, the good and the bad.

"Recovery is a process with no timeline. It is specific to the individual."

           So. I am at a total loss at how to begin writing a blog entry. I am not a blogger, I am not witty, and I am definitely no Camilla. I guess I’ll just begin with the most boring and predictable sentence I could possibly write: My name is Kristina Atsalis, I am 19, and I live on Cape Cod in Massachusetts. I have taken a year off after graduating from Barnstable High School last year and plan on attending Syracuse University in New York next fall.

            My childhood was seemingly wonderful. I grew up directly on the beach with the best of friends and a love of books. However, I also walked in the shadows of three perfects brothers. And I mean perfect. They excel in academics, in sports, and now as adults.

            Ninth grade kicked off with the start of cross country. I ran already, but only two or three miles, and joined on a whim. The season turned out to be my first varsity letter, running faster than I had anticipated and breaking cross country records. I was interviewed, I was congratulated, and was proud for once in my life. I continued to run through the winter while fighting ruthlessly for A grades. I kept running and stopped sleeping so that I could study. Running was the one thing in my life I could be proud of; I wasn’t more intelligent than my brothers, but I sure was faster. I finally believed I was special, different, and worthy of being an Atsalis.

            Cue eating disorder. I ran. I remember nothing of this next summer except for running. Rain, wind, 6 am or 7 pm, I was outside. I returned for sophomore year and was followed by whispers. “Did you hear? Kristina can’t run on the team this year. She’s too thin. I mean, look at her.” I was crushed. Running and being thin was all that I had, it was my identity, and it was the only way I fit into my family. However, I was diagnosed anorexic and forced to gain weight.

At school, with friends, I was the loudest, I smiled from ear to ear, I was the girl who loved life. No one would second guess that I was on stage, performing to convince the world that I was “fine”. I went to school believing I could “fake it 'til I made it” and went to bed each night, crumbing and alone, even more defeated than when I woke up. For months, hardly a day went by without a screaming match between my parents and I. The words “I hate you” to my father became second nature. Disgust ran through my veins like poison and leaked into my words and into my relationships; my parents doubled over with sadness as I pushed aside their help without a second glance.

Fast forward to March of my junior year. After three years of avoiding food, depression knocked me on my ass and food becomes the bad boy I cannot stay away from. I binged. Everyday. I grew tired of being impressive, stopped running, and began to sleep my days away. Everyone has a fat friend, it might as well be me, right? I begin purging the food I binged on after gaining so much extra weight that I could not look in the mirror anymore.

I was officially diagnosed bulimic and severely depressed my senior year of high school and left for my first treatment center, Eating Recovery Center, in December. I re-entered treatment at Remuda Ranch in March, and admitted at Center for Change after spending a week in a psych ward this past November. I can honestly say that after three treatment centers, my eating disorder is still here. It screams at me and tells me purge. My family is furious. HOW could I possibly not be fully recovered yet? Their assumption is that I am lazy and not trying. Truthfully, I am trying the best that I can, but I am scared. I am scared that recovery I am not strong enough to recover. My family’s beliefs are seeping into my brain, convincing me that I am a failure for still having lapses and feeling sad.

This is my biggest obstacle: 

Acknowledging that I am doing my best regardless of my family’s unrealistic expectations.

I am learning to be patient with myself, knowing that recovery is a process with no timeline. It is specific to the individual. My path to happiness includes four very best friends and a therapist whom I love. They are my main support system and they keep me grounded and on track. They remind me that I am loved, that boys will be boys, that grades are not everything, and that I can do this. 

Because I can. 

And so can Camilla. 

And so can you...

The moment we begin to love who we are and forgive the past, the world is ours.

Pathetic.

I thought Remuda Ranch would inform me when my money was gone. 4 weeks ago I tried unsuccessfully to get my financial records from them. I wanted to see exactly what I was paying and how the funds were being delegated. After a big run around about the business office being closed a d people being out of town I finally found out today that I OWE $5000 because the funds ran out 29 days ago. 

I shouldn't have come here.

Please help. 

I know I'm pathetic feel free to laugh it up. 

Spilling Our Guts

Dear Readers,

        Thanks so much for all your support. For writing to me, for reading, for kicking my trash when I need it, and for your words of encouragement. I'm kind of tired of talking about myself all the time, so I'm excited to start a new segment featuring other people who have or have had eating disorders. People in various stages of recovery; people who are struggling, people who are fully recovered, people who are trying. I know recovery can feel very lonely. I'm lucky becasue I have COPIOUS amounts of support, but even so I sometimes feel as though I'm the only one lapsing, or struggling, or who can't do it perfectly. The truth is recovery is not always pretty and it's certainly not perfect. It can take months. It can take years. It might be a daily decision for the rest of our lives! So let's talk about it. My first post will go up Sunday. If you'd like to contribute to this, please email me at camilla.kuhns@gmail.com, and keep in mind that this is a PRO-RECOVERY forum.

Much love,

Camilla

In Which I Fall Apart

Please ignore the last post.

I do need to see a cardiologist. I also need an MRI. And even if I didn't need those things my family is struggling to pay for this. But I'm embarrassed that I need help. And even people I thought were friends, people I thought cared about me are saying I'm selfish and entitled. I'm trying really hard. I'm doing everything I can to earn my own money, but it's not enough.

Anyway, to clarify, my program is M-F 8:45am-5:30. Some days I am there until 8. Wednesday I don't go in until 1:45 unless I go to the lunch challenge, in which case I'm there at the regular time. I have asked and applied to several jobs. I live in Chandler M-F at Remuda's Independent Living apartment, and Gilbert with my brother and his wife on the weekends. I do not have a car. So I can work evenings in Chandler and wekends in Gilbert. In addition to that issue, and probably more importantly, my treatment team doesn't think I'm ready to get a part time job until I step down to IOP (intensive outpatient) which is living full time at home (in Gilbert with Kristian) and have programming 3 days a week instead of 5. And even then they're not totally on board with the idea.

I hope this clarifies why I am struggling financially and maybe offends fewer people. I'm sorry I feel like a pathetic, indolent loser. Which sucks because what I'm doing is actually really hard. And exhausting. And I have to address trauma that I just want to forget. And I'm on a million meds and I feel weird and exhausted all the time and I can't sleep and when I do I have nightmares and I still purge about twice a week and no, I don't look sick anymore but my brain is still f-ed up and I see fat. Fat, pathetic, sloven, loser.

I feel like I'm FAILING but I'm doing everything and using every skill I know. And im terrified that I'm just a lost cause.

Sorry, there I go being selfish and self involved again.

Help. Again.

I'm bracing myself for the angry emails that I'm sure will come. I probably deserve them, but I'm  doing the embarassing thing, being honest, and asking for more help. I need to meet with a cardiologist. I'm still paying over $300/day to be here at Remuda, and my family has been paying for most of it. I can't find a job that accommodates my schedule at Reumda, and I'm unable to work full time because I'm here from 8:45-6 every day. Please donate if you can. I'm having a hard time writing this, but an even harder time knowing that I'm putting my family in a hard situation. I know that most of the people who read my blog have already given me money, so I really don't have any expectations, but I thought if I don't ask, the answer is always no.
Thanks and love,
Camilla

What I (Didn't Know I) Love About Me.

Have you ever had a dream that something about your physical appearance has changed and you woke up relieved that it was just a dream? That's happened to me before, but it's usually something like my hair or teeth all fell out or I'm drastically overweight. Last night was different. I dreamed that I'd been in an accident and after facial reconstruction my nose was different and my jaw was less pronounced  They weren't "worse" or "uglier," just different. But I was so sad. I even told several dream-people, "I know it doesn't look bad, but I used to have my dad's jaw. I used to have my mom's nose." My dream-self was so sad that a visible physical connection to my ancestors, my parents, my siblings, was gone.

I learned two things from that dream.
One: I really do love my nose and my jaw. I love them the way they are. I love that all of the Kuhns Kids have the same jaw. I love that when we smile people can tell we're related. I love that my nose is like my mom's. Genetically I had about a 60% chance of having just a HUGE schnoz and I'm glad I don't. Not that there's anything wrong with big noses, I'm just glad that I don't have one. (I hope that doesn't make me shallow or offend anyone).
Two: Jaw and nose are not what make me beautiful. At least not in my dream. In my dream, no one really noticed. And those who did notice didn't care. My jaw and my nose did't effect my personality, and in my dream it was clear that my personality was the thing attracting people to me. Granted, it was a dream, but I woke up knowing that the principle is true. No one enjoys being with a physically gorgeous mean person. Or a physically gorgeous boring person. Or a physically gorgeous insecure person. Or a physically gorgeous uninteresting person.

Anyway, I'm interested to see if anyone else has had this kind of dream? Is there something your subconscious loves about you that you never realized?? Actually I don't even care about that! I want to know what you love about you and why. Leave it in a comment, email me, text me, whatever. I want to hear about it!

Strong Jaws :)