I CHOOSE

...to love myself.
...to treat myself gently, with patience and respect.
...to accept responsibility for every aspect of my life.

...to be present, awake, aware.
...to be open to possibility.
...to leap with the intention of landing.
...to do amazing things.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

In the interest of full disclosure...

My choices last night were not good ones.

When purging didn't relieve the anxiety, when the rawness in the back of my throat wasn't enough to numb the feelings, I turned to a bottle of wine. And some rum.

The result was an ambulance ride and several hours in the emergency room. And an IV that was the most painful one of my life. I'm sure I deserved it.

Today took an extra vacation day. Called in the reinforcements. Ate. Didn't purge. Took down the Christmas tree. (I'm more than ready for the holidays to be over.)

Tonight, I have a few calls to make to "check in" so no one worries too much. And I'm waiting for Officer Rozelle, my handsome young escort from last night, to return my driver's license.

I joke about it now. I suppose it wasn't so funny last night. But if I don't try to brush it off as I write about it, I will melt into despair.

Should I go back to treatment? Will I? What does that mean? In my head, it means I'm a failure. Yes, I know it's not failure. It takes strength and courage to admit that I need help. But it doesn't erase how I FEEL. And that's ashamed, angry and sad that I couldn't be perfect like I thought I ought to be.

Mostly, I'm sorry for the worry I cause people. I'm sorry for the inconvenience this could cause. I'm sorry for wasting every one's time during treatment. If I try again, I promise to try harder. I'll be a better perfect.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh crap, I'm so sorry. And so glad you're okay enough to write this. (Yeah, I know, "okay" is entirely relative.)

You're so mean to yourself, sweet pea -- people get to worry and freak out about you (even though it's a pain and sort of makes things even worse). You hurt so you hurt yourself so that you wouldn't hurt anymore. And you still hurt, and it still sucks, and today you did what you needed to do. So that's good.

"Treatment" is a process, not a one-time thing.

And I know you know this and that it's not about the knowing it, but the FEELING of it. I "get" ashamed, angry and sad. I so do. And they so suck.

Hugs.

Melting Mama said...

*sigh*

I don't know what to say, because I just don't, but I get the feelings, mine are just drowned slightly differently.

Anonymous said...

Instead of giving treatment another try, have you thought of re-engineering your entire life in an absolute & drastic way? Like quitting your job and joining the Peace Corps, or volunteering to teach English in Pakistan for two years. This may sound like very bizarre advice, but I really mean it. A TOTAL and extended hiatus from every single familiar thing you've ever known before.

JUST JEN said...

Anonymous, your response gets a personal one from me. Yeah, like that's a practical thing. Go half way around the world where I can vomit by myself? You must have NO CLUE what I've been writing about. Did you read any of this blog? Do you have a clue how much CHANGE I've already been through in the last 2 years? Sure, pile on some more in the middle of a major depressive episode, a raging eating disorder and a relationship break up. That's healthy.

Donna said...

I, for one, am sincerely grateful you came out of this "okay" (as deluzy says, it's entirely "relative").

In reading your long list of apologies, it made me wonder what happened to the apology to your self, to your body, to your soul?

All of us who suffer from self-loathing forget that caring about ourselves and treating our selves with the same respect we treat others with is so important.

I guess the bad days are necessary to truly appreciate the good ones? I wish I understood why it is so hard to stay on course.

*hugs*

Michelle said...

two steps forward, three steps back. It's all part of life, healing and getting healthy no matter what you are undertaking.

Anonymous said...

Hi there. Here's another total stranger out there in the world pulling for you. I have absolutely no experience with what you're going through, and yet you describe it so vividly I feel like I understand.

I stumbled onto your blog quite a while ago and have been quietly lurking and enjoying your writing. I don't pray, but I'm thinking of you and your struggle and knowing that you deserve to be well and to seek as much treatment and help as it takes to get you there.

JUST JEN said...

Tel...stop trying so hard? If I stopped trying so hard, I would be dead. I can't stop trying.

Anonymous said...

Ouch! Good luck to you though, justjen.