Hey world!
In case you didn't know, I have a YouTube channel. I made videos, mostly eating disorder related, but sometimes about just random crap and funny stuff in my life. I have several videos on there of my dog, a few of my birds, some of my fiancé and me dancing, and so on. So you should check it out.
YouTube Channel: katenotkatie87
Twitter: @katenotkatie724
I also do Q&A videos. I haven't done one in a while, so it's about time. Ask me anything! If the question offends me I won't answer it, but offending me is hard to do (unless you call me fat or something.)
Here are some suggested topics for questions:
-Favorites (i.e. what's your favorite kind of shoe?)
-Preferences (i.e. pencil or pen?)
-Experiences (i.e. what is your favorite vacation spot you've ever been to?)
-Opinions (i.e. what do you think about Kim Kardashian/Justin Bieber/Angelina Jolie?)
Or you can ask me anything about eating disorders. You can ask me about my story. How long I've been sick. What scares me the most. You can ask me what you should/should not say to someone with an eating disorder. Keep in mind, though, all my answers are MY OPINIONS ONLY!!! They are not fact.
So go ahead, ask. I'm sure the world has a million questions about eating disorders. It's a confusing illness, a tricky sonofabitch for sure. Navigating the illness is hard enough when you have it and even harder, sometimes, when you don't.
Ask me in the form of comments here or send a message to my YouTube channel, or ask in the form of a comment on my Q&A Request video that I'm about to put up. Connect with me, I won't bite. :)
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Horrors!!!
Like putting a band-aid on a tumor.
Oh my goodness gracious. Oh my goodness, goodness gracious me!!! I am horrified.
Okay. So. I can remember hearing somewhere a while ago about Ambien being connected with people eating in their sleep. I never really thought much on the subject. I've never taken Ambien (that I can remember) and I don't take it now so it's not relevant. But someone posted a comment on my YouTube channel (katenotkatie87) about Ambien and night bingeing.
So I googled "Ambien Horror Stories" and oh... the terrible things I read! Buttered cigarettes?! What the stinkin' heck??
Here's one link: http://science.howstuffworks.com/life/ambien-eat.htm
Here's another: http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/opinions/8725/
Is that not the most horrendous, terrifying, nightmarish situation ever? Well, for someone like me it is! I can't even fathom... I can't even imagine... I can't even find words to express how dreadful that concept is!
But seriously, how f*cked up is it that pharmaceuticals can control our bodies and brains so thoroughly? Like what about my crazy withdrawal that I just suffered through for 4 days because the pharmacy didn't refill my meds for what seemed like eons. Every single bone in my body ached. I was nauseated. I was dizzy. My head ached. I couldn't think. I could barely work. I could barely function. Because of medications! Because of these little tiny pills... or, I should say, the lack of them! It infuriates me that my brain is not capable of making enough of this or that on its own. But I'm not even really supplementing it! I'm just kind of masking the problem. It's like putting a band-aid on a tumor. It might cover up the problem, but it won't make it go away.
I guess that sort of explains why I have an eating disorder though... I abhor the idea of not being in control of my actions. Ambien sounds absolutely hellacious.
Oh my goodness gracious. Oh my goodness, goodness gracious me!!! I am horrified.
Okay. So. I can remember hearing somewhere a while ago about Ambien being connected with people eating in their sleep. I never really thought much on the subject. I've never taken Ambien (that I can remember) and I don't take it now so it's not relevant. But someone posted a comment on my YouTube channel (katenotkatie87) about Ambien and night bingeing.
So I googled "Ambien Horror Stories" and oh... the terrible things I read! Buttered cigarettes?! What the stinkin' heck??
Here's one link: http://science.howstuffworks.com/life/ambien-eat.htm
Here's another: http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/opinions/8725/
Is that not the most horrendous, terrifying, nightmarish situation ever? Well, for someone like me it is! I can't even fathom... I can't even imagine... I can't even find words to express how dreadful that concept is!
But seriously, how f*cked up is it that pharmaceuticals can control our bodies and brains so thoroughly? Like what about my crazy withdrawal that I just suffered through for 4 days because the pharmacy didn't refill my meds for what seemed like eons. Every single bone in my body ached. I was nauseated. I was dizzy. My head ached. I couldn't think. I could barely work. I could barely function. Because of medications! Because of these little tiny pills... or, I should say, the lack of them! It infuriates me that my brain is not capable of making enough of this or that on its own. But I'm not even really supplementing it! I'm just kind of masking the problem. It's like putting a band-aid on a tumor. It might cover up the problem, but it won't make it go away.
I guess that sort of explains why I have an eating disorder though... I abhor the idea of not being in control of my actions. Ambien sounds absolutely hellacious.
Reevaluation
Look Again.
Now that a week and a day has passed since the Vista Bridge incident, I can look back and reflect on it a little better. The first few days after it happened, I walked around in this weird half-state. I'd be going along with my day and I'd forget about what I'd seen. Then all of a sudden I would remember. Sometimes something prompted it, but sometimes it just came from nowhere.
It messed with my appetite. I didn't eat anything the rest of that day. The next day I didn't eat much either. Or the next day. I just felt sick. I couldn't really understand why, but I did. I know that what I saw was a shocking thing to see but I felt like I should just be able to "get over it" right away, since I didn't know the person.
Friday morning I had been driving back from dropping something off for my dad, and I made the mistake of looking to my right as I crossed Jefferson Street. Dead center, Vista Bridge (that was a poor choice of words, sorry.) That was the first time I'd seen the bridge since January 22. I never wanted to see it again.
By Saturday I still hadn't found the courage to go anywhere near the bridge, much less under or over it! Saturday afternoon I was hanging out with my sister. We left the house to go buy red hair dye (Manic Panic, Rock n' Roll Red, for anyone who wants to know.) I told my sister (H) that I hadn't been able to drive under the bridge again because it freaks me out, but that I hoped I would soon get the courage to do so because going down Highway 26 and taking the Canyon/Jefferson exit is so much faster than going up and over Burnside to get to my appointments.
H said, "Let's go. Right now. Let's drive there. I'll be with you, so you won't be alone. Let's go before you can change your mind about that!" H is very spiritual and in tune with energy, so I knew that she could tell how afraid I was.
I made an abrupt left turn and within 10 minutes found myself taking exit 73 for Jefferson. I felt like I was in a dream as we exited to the right, curved left, when through a tunnel and emerged near the 1894 water reservoir. I couldn't breathe. I gripped the wheel. My jaw was clenched. H said, "I can feel you tensing up." The road curved to the right....
... and then there it was. Looming over the road, just as it always has. The road was empty. No cars. No body. No blood. Just road.
The articles about the suicide said the girl was 19 years old. So young! My sister looked her up on facebook. It took a while for me to get the balls to look at her picture, but I'm so glad that I did! Now whenever the horrific scene on Jefferson Street comes to mind, I push it out and replace it with an image of her smiling face. Not that I believe for a second she was deeply, truly happy in that picture, but it's better than the alternative image I have of her! She was a pretty girl in life, and I'm glad I can picture her that way instead of the way I actually saw her.
It makes me sad to think that she was so sad. It takes a lot of courage to end your own life. Don't get me wrong, I still think it's selfish. But would I have the guts to let go of that bridge? Hell no. I'm not angry at her anymore, just sad. She was only 19 when she chose to leave this world on that bleak, gray, January day. I really hope she's at peace now, and that wherever she ended up is better than where she left.
Now that a week and a day has passed since the Vista Bridge incident, I can look back and reflect on it a little better. The first few days after it happened, I walked around in this weird half-state. I'd be going along with my day and I'd forget about what I'd seen. Then all of a sudden I would remember. Sometimes something prompted it, but sometimes it just came from nowhere.
It messed with my appetite. I didn't eat anything the rest of that day. The next day I didn't eat much either. Or the next day. I just felt sick. I couldn't really understand why, but I did. I know that what I saw was a shocking thing to see but I felt like I should just be able to "get over it" right away, since I didn't know the person.
Friday morning I had been driving back from dropping something off for my dad, and I made the mistake of looking to my right as I crossed Jefferson Street. Dead center, Vista Bridge (that was a poor choice of words, sorry.) That was the first time I'd seen the bridge since January 22. I never wanted to see it again.
By Saturday I still hadn't found the courage to go anywhere near the bridge, much less under or over it! Saturday afternoon I was hanging out with my sister. We left the house to go buy red hair dye (Manic Panic, Rock n' Roll Red, for anyone who wants to know.) I told my sister (H) that I hadn't been able to drive under the bridge again because it freaks me out, but that I hoped I would soon get the courage to do so because going down Highway 26 and taking the Canyon/Jefferson exit is so much faster than going up and over Burnside to get to my appointments.
H said, "Let's go. Right now. Let's drive there. I'll be with you, so you won't be alone. Let's go before you can change your mind about that!" H is very spiritual and in tune with energy, so I knew that she could tell how afraid I was.
I made an abrupt left turn and within 10 minutes found myself taking exit 73 for Jefferson. I felt like I was in a dream as we exited to the right, curved left, when through a tunnel and emerged near the 1894 water reservoir. I couldn't breathe. I gripped the wheel. My jaw was clenched. H said, "I can feel you tensing up." The road curved to the right....
... and then there it was. Looming over the road, just as it always has. The road was empty. No cars. No body. No blood. Just road.
The articles about the suicide said the girl was 19 years old. So young! My sister looked her up on facebook. It took a while for me to get the balls to look at her picture, but I'm so glad that I did! Now whenever the horrific scene on Jefferson Street comes to mind, I push it out and replace it with an image of her smiling face. Not that I believe for a second she was deeply, truly happy in that picture, but it's better than the alternative image I have of her! She was a pretty girl in life, and I'm glad I can picture her that way instead of the way I actually saw her.
It makes me sad to think that she was so sad. It takes a lot of courage to end your own life. Don't get me wrong, I still think it's selfish. But would I have the guts to let go of that bridge? Hell no. I'm not angry at her anymore, just sad. She was only 19 when she chose to leave this world on that bleak, gray, January day. I really hope she's at peace now, and that wherever she ended up is better than where she left.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Drugs
"Drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs... badbadbadbadbadbadbadbad!"
The above was chanted aloud over and over when I was in 8th grade on a Drug Free Pledge field trip. So funny. But true.
Speaking of drugs..... I love/hate them. The pharmaceutical kind, I mean.
I take these 2 meds that are fairly heavy. I take them for sleep mostly. Late last week there was a snafu with the pharmacy and they didn't/wouldn't refill the meds for ages. So I went from Wednesday night until yesterday night without them.
Oh. My. GOD! (See the previous post. The first picture... yeah.) Basically I didn't sleep for days. I hurt everywhere. I couldn't eat (not that I minded), I couldn't think. I was so miserable. Now I have the meds back but.... something is not right.
I don't know what it is but.. something is not right inside me. It feels like I have too many organs or that they're all too big to fit in my body. Last night I literally couldn't breathe. My bones ache. It feels like they're being broken from the inside out. My heart is beating crazily, skipping and stuttering all over the place. Tonight when I was teaching Zumba I was so dizzy I could hardly balance in an upright position.
What is happening to me??
The above was chanted aloud over and over when I was in 8th grade on a Drug Free Pledge field trip. So funny. But true.
Speaking of drugs..... I love/hate them. The pharmaceutical kind, I mean.
I take these 2 meds that are fairly heavy. I take them for sleep mostly. Late last week there was a snafu with the pharmacy and they didn't/wouldn't refill the meds for ages. So I went from Wednesday night until yesterday night without them.
Oh. My. GOD! (See the previous post. The first picture... yeah.) Basically I didn't sleep for days. I hurt everywhere. I couldn't eat (not that I minded), I couldn't think. I was so miserable. Now I have the meds back but.... something is not right.
I don't know what it is but.. something is not right inside me. It feels like I have too many organs or that they're all too big to fit in my body. Last night I literally couldn't breathe. My bones ache. It feels like they're being broken from the inside out. My heart is beating crazily, skipping and stuttering all over the place. Tonight when I was teaching Zumba I was so dizzy I could hardly balance in an upright position.
What is happening to me??
Sunday, January 27, 2013
A Few Random Pictures
Photos!!
This is what gets me through the days when I don't sleep. My new best friend.
Before Zumba on January 25, 2013. :)
A random collage I made yesterday.
RedRedRedRedRedRed.
This is what gets me through the days when I don't sleep. My new best friend.
Before Zumba on January 25, 2013. :)
A random collage I made yesterday.
RedRedRedRedRedRed.
Zombie
I have not slept in days. Seriously. Since my last entry, The Vista Bridge, I have not slept more than maaaaaybe 2 hours per night. This sucks. Even AdvilPM can't knock me out, not even for a few hours.
So, I apologize if this entry makes little or no sense. I am making little or no sense.
I did this NeuroAdrenal test back in December where I peed in a cup and spit into a tube 4 times throughout the duration of one day and sent it off to a lab where they analyzed it all and sent back a report on what my brain is doing. Honestly. It's so cool. It sent back like this bar graph of my main neurotransmitters. They're all okay except for Taurine (which is wicked low), Glutamate (which is wicked high), and PEA (which is low, but not so very low.) My cortisol level is okay in the morning but too high at night. And my body makes almost NO natural melatonin. They wanted it between 25 and 60 or something and mine was at 10.5... and that's with a supplement! Jesus! No wonder I can't sleep.
Yesterday I hung out with my sister. We dyed my hair. I now have Little Mermaid hair. No really... it's brighter than Ariel's. I have never seen anything like it. Pictures to come. I have a few I've been meaning to put up anyway, from the past few days.
Also, they released the name of the woman that jumped off the Vista on Tuesday. I'll link the article below.
http://www.portlandoregon.gov/police/news/read.cfm?id=3702
So, I apologize if this entry makes little or no sense. I am making little or no sense.
I did this NeuroAdrenal test back in December where I peed in a cup and spit into a tube 4 times throughout the duration of one day and sent it off to a lab where they analyzed it all and sent back a report on what my brain is doing. Honestly. It's so cool. It sent back like this bar graph of my main neurotransmitters. They're all okay except for Taurine (which is wicked low), Glutamate (which is wicked high), and PEA (which is low, but not so very low.) My cortisol level is okay in the morning but too high at night. And my body makes almost NO natural melatonin. They wanted it between 25 and 60 or something and mine was at 10.5... and that's with a supplement! Jesus! No wonder I can't sleep.
Yesterday I hung out with my sister. We dyed my hair. I now have Little Mermaid hair. No really... it's brighter than Ariel's. I have never seen anything like it. Pictures to come. I have a few I've been meaning to put up anyway, from the past few days.
Also, they released the name of the woman that jumped off the Vista on Tuesday. I'll link the article below.
http://www.portlandoregon.gov/police/news/read.cfm?id=3702
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
The Vista Bridge
Portland, Oregon.
There is a bridge here in Portland called the Vista Bridge. It's named that for 2 reasons. One, it's on Vista Ln. Two, it has a great view. Like, really great. I believe part of the opening of Portlandia was shot from it. (Portlandia, by the way, is the name of a statue in downtown Portland as well as the name of the show. Which I have never seen.)
The Vista bridge also has a reputation. A bad reputation. People are always jumping off of it! I guess I can understand why they'd pick that bridge. It goes over a road, as opposed to water, so you're pretty much guaranteed a killshot there. If the fall doesn't kill you (which it would), a car tearing around the eastbound curve immediately preceding the bridge will finish the job. Also, if you're going to go, the view off the Vista is a pretty great image to have as your last one.
But the downside is that it falls on a road, not water. Which means that there are almost always witnesses. And today (January 22), one of those witnesses was me.
Lucky me!
I have to say it was one of the singularly most shocking things I've ever witnessed in my life. The road was covered in blood and human organs. I drove over one. It couldn't be helped! The person was all over the place. As my friend would say, "Everything was everywhere!"
It makes me so irritated to think about it too. Taking your own life is an intensely selfish action, in my opinion. No matter how you do it. You're ignoring the fact that your action (suicide) is going to hurt other people. Unless you never knew anyone but your parents and they're now dead, there are going to be people in your life who know, love and care about you and they are going to be devastated. But when you do it in a place like the Vista Bridge, you are scarring an unknown number of people in addition to your loved ones.
The woman who jumped off the Vista Bridge had no way of knowing how many motorists would pass in the time it took for her to jump, die, be seen, declared dead, covered and carted away. Police blocked the road fairly quickly but it didn't shield everyone from the horrific nightmare Jefferson Street had suddenly become. It makes me angry that this woman didn't think of these things.
The Vista is Portland's "suicide bridge," our version of San Francisco's Golden Gate. There is a suicide counseling sign posted on the Vista, but that doesn't seem to deter people much. There are also those signs posted on bridges that cross the river, but for some reason people seem to prefer the Vista. In fact, it occurs so often that the people who work in the businesses on Jefferson are actually expecting to hear the thud/smack combination, indicative of a human hitting the pavement at tremendous velocity. "Oh no," they say, picking up the phone to call the police. "Not again."
The saddest thing about this, for me, was that about 30 minutes after this woman's life ended at around a quarter past twelve yesterday, the clouds broke, the fog burned off and the sun came out. It was a beautiful day. Maybe, just maybe, if she had waited a half hour, the world wouldn't have looked so bleak and hopeless. Maybe she would have changed her mind.
Link to article about the event: http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2013/01/woman_dies_in_leap_from_vista.html
no copyright intended on the pics. they're not mine.
Note: this entry was written over the span of 2 days. Sorry for any date discrepancies. The woman jumped January 22, 2013.
There is a bridge here in Portland called the Vista Bridge. It's named that for 2 reasons. One, it's on Vista Ln. Two, it has a great view. Like, really great. I believe part of the opening of Portlandia was shot from it. (Portlandia, by the way, is the name of a statue in downtown Portland as well as the name of the show. Which I have never seen.)
The Vista bridge also has a reputation. A bad reputation. People are always jumping off of it! I guess I can understand why they'd pick that bridge. It goes over a road, as opposed to water, so you're pretty much guaranteed a killshot there. If the fall doesn't kill you (which it would), a car tearing around the eastbound curve immediately preceding the bridge will finish the job. Also, if you're going to go, the view off the Vista is a pretty great image to have as your last one.
But the downside is that it falls on a road, not water. Which means that there are almost always witnesses. And today (January 22), one of those witnesses was me.
Lucky me!
I have to say it was one of the singularly most shocking things I've ever witnessed in my life. The road was covered in blood and human organs. I drove over one. It couldn't be helped! The person was all over the place. As my friend would say, "Everything was everywhere!"
It makes me so irritated to think about it too. Taking your own life is an intensely selfish action, in my opinion. No matter how you do it. You're ignoring the fact that your action (suicide) is going to hurt other people. Unless you never knew anyone but your parents and they're now dead, there are going to be people in your life who know, love and care about you and they are going to be devastated. But when you do it in a place like the Vista Bridge, you are scarring an unknown number of people in addition to your loved ones.
The woman who jumped off the Vista Bridge had no way of knowing how many motorists would pass in the time it took for her to jump, die, be seen, declared dead, covered and carted away. Police blocked the road fairly quickly but it didn't shield everyone from the horrific nightmare Jefferson Street had suddenly become. It makes me angry that this woman didn't think of these things.
The Vista is Portland's "suicide bridge," our version of San Francisco's Golden Gate. There is a suicide counseling sign posted on the Vista, but that doesn't seem to deter people much. There are also those signs posted on bridges that cross the river, but for some reason people seem to prefer the Vista. In fact, it occurs so often that the people who work in the businesses on Jefferson are actually expecting to hear the thud/smack combination, indicative of a human hitting the pavement at tremendous velocity. "Oh no," they say, picking up the phone to call the police. "Not again."
The saddest thing about this, for me, was that about 30 minutes after this woman's life ended at around a quarter past twelve yesterday, the clouds broke, the fog burned off and the sun came out. It was a beautiful day. Maybe, just maybe, if she had waited a half hour, the world wouldn't have looked so bleak and hopeless. Maybe she would have changed her mind.
Link to article about the event: http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2013/01/woman_dies_in_leap_from_vista.html
no copyright intended on the pics. they're not mine.
Note: this entry was written over the span of 2 days. Sorry for any date discrepancies. The woman jumped January 22, 2013.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
More Nightmares
Please, make them stop.
I woke up at 7:47am. 7:47 is my favorite time of day because the Boeing 747-800 is my favorite kind of airplane. But 7:47am was not a good minute for me this morning.
I had another nightmare. A nightmare like the ice cream one, only this one was much, much worse.
I can't remember any of it except for this part: I was standing on a scale. It was like the one on The Biggest Loser, with this humongous screen where it shows the number. And I was looking at the screen thinking it won't be that bad... but then the number flashed and it was BAD! And then I woke up.
Today I really don't want to eat. That number scared the shit out of me!! And it's not like it was a number that was totally preposterous for someone my height to weigh. It wasn't at all. But I don't want to weigh that much.
So I've carefully calculated the number of calories I'll allow myself for the day. I have to teach Zumba tonight so I can't fast, unfortunately. Zumba and fasting don't mix well. Or at all, actually. But I've cut out all unneccessary calories and fat from my meal plan for today. It allows for 308cal by the time I leave for Zumba (at 5:40pm) unless I start running a fever again, in which case it allows for 438cal. (A rise in core body temperature causes a rise in BMR.) And then I just have to eat as little as possible (or nothing at all) for dinner. That should keep that number away.
My therapist will be none too happy, but hey, she didn't have that nightmare. I did.
I woke up at 7:47am. 7:47 is my favorite time of day because the Boeing 747-800 is my favorite kind of airplane. But 7:47am was not a good minute for me this morning.
I had another nightmare. A nightmare like the ice cream one, only this one was much, much worse.
I can't remember any of it except for this part: I was standing on a scale. It was like the one on The Biggest Loser, with this humongous screen where it shows the number. And I was looking at the screen thinking it won't be that bad... but then the number flashed and it was BAD! And then I woke up.
Today I really don't want to eat. That number scared the shit out of me!! And it's not like it was a number that was totally preposterous for someone my height to weigh. It wasn't at all. But I don't want to weigh that much.
So I've carefully calculated the number of calories I'll allow myself for the day. I have to teach Zumba tonight so I can't fast, unfortunately. Zumba and fasting don't mix well. Or at all, actually. But I've cut out all unneccessary calories and fat from my meal plan for today. It allows for 308cal by the time I leave for Zumba (at 5:40pm) unless I start running a fever again, in which case it allows for 438cal. (A rise in core body temperature causes a rise in BMR.) And then I just have to eat as little as possible (or nothing at all) for dinner. That should keep that number away.
My therapist will be none too happy, but hey, she didn't have that nightmare. I did.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Pictures
Some randomness for you :)
Sick! Temp of 99.8F. 1.19.13
All the following pics taken today, 1.21.13
Sick! Temp of 99.8F. 1.19.13
All the following pics taken today, 1.21.13
Real Nightmare
Good Morning.
I don't think I've ever in my whole life been so happy to say those words. Good morning. It means the night is over now. I'm happy about that because I've been having nightmares. Let's see what dictionary.com has to say about nightmares...
nightmare
noun
1. a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, extreme anxiety, sorrow, etc.
2. a condition, thought, or experience suggestive of a nightmare: the nightmare of his years in prison.
3. (formerly) a monster or evil spirit believed to oppress persons during sleep.
Personally, I think it should talk a little more about how the definition of nightmare varies from person to person. For example, for a while now (about 6 months to a year) I've been having plane crash dreams. It's always a different dream. Sometimes I'm on the plane in question, sometimes I'm not. Sometimes someone I love is on the plane. Plane crashes are scary and sad. But I never really feel that way in the dream. So to me that dream is not a nightmare, not typically. I can remember one plane crash dream where I felt the most overwhelming grief I've ever felt in my life. But that's atypical for my plane crash dreams.
But to someone who has experienced a plane crash or lost a loved one in a plane crash, that dream would take on totally different meanings and significance. Probably for them it would be a nightmare.
The dream I had last night was a nightmare for sure! But to most people, it wouldn't be that bad. I dreamed I ate ice cream. Like, a lot of ice cream. In the dream I was hysterical, bawling over what I had just done. Pleading with my parents (for whatever reason) to undo it, make it go away. I have never been so glad to wake up in all my life. When I woke up, I said out loud to myself, "it was a dream. It's okay. You didn't eat the ice cream."
But I think that dream touched a nerve. I am terrified by the idea of my anorexia turning into bulimia or binge eating. It hasn't happened to me... but I know that it has happened to some. And I do not want that to be me.
What I need to do to remedy the fear is to crack down. I need to get control back. I have control. I am the smart being here. My eating disorder does not have a brain of it's own. It has a brain, yeah... mine! Which I am in control of!!!!
My therapist was also in that nightmare. Weird.
By the way, for any of you reading this who like horror movies, I recommend the movie "Mama." Creepy!
I don't think I've ever in my whole life been so happy to say those words. Good morning. It means the night is over now. I'm happy about that because I've been having nightmares. Let's see what dictionary.com has to say about nightmares...
nightmare
noun
1. a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, extreme anxiety, sorrow, etc.
2. a condition, thought, or experience suggestive of a nightmare: the nightmare of his years in prison.
3. (formerly) a monster or evil spirit believed to oppress persons during sleep.
Personally, I think it should talk a little more about how the definition of nightmare varies from person to person. For example, for a while now (about 6 months to a year) I've been having plane crash dreams. It's always a different dream. Sometimes I'm on the plane in question, sometimes I'm not. Sometimes someone I love is on the plane. Plane crashes are scary and sad. But I never really feel that way in the dream. So to me that dream is not a nightmare, not typically. I can remember one plane crash dream where I felt the most overwhelming grief I've ever felt in my life. But that's atypical for my plane crash dreams.
But to someone who has experienced a plane crash or lost a loved one in a plane crash, that dream would take on totally different meanings and significance. Probably for them it would be a nightmare.
The dream I had last night was a nightmare for sure! But to most people, it wouldn't be that bad. I dreamed I ate ice cream. Like, a lot of ice cream. In the dream I was hysterical, bawling over what I had just done. Pleading with my parents (for whatever reason) to undo it, make it go away. I have never been so glad to wake up in all my life. When I woke up, I said out loud to myself, "it was a dream. It's okay. You didn't eat the ice cream."
But I think that dream touched a nerve. I am terrified by the idea of my anorexia turning into bulimia or binge eating. It hasn't happened to me... but I know that it has happened to some. And I do not want that to be me.
What I need to do to remedy the fear is to crack down. I need to get control back. I have control. I am the smart being here. My eating disorder does not have a brain of it's own. It has a brain, yeah... mine! Which I am in control of!!!!
My therapist was also in that nightmare. Weird.
By the way, for any of you reading this who like horror movies, I recommend the movie "Mama." Creepy!
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Welcome To My Nightmare
warning: triggers.
Nobody ever NEEDS to eat. People just want to eat, and do. There is no need for such horrors as this:
Or this:
Insanity!!! Totally unacceptable.
Fat. FatfatfatfatfatFAT!!!!! That's all I am and all I'll ever be. I deserve to be slaughtered like the fat fucking pig I am.
Everywhere you turn is FAT. Either fattening food or anti-fat stuff like "Resolution Solutions" or diet ads. I am not built for a world like this. I do not want to be here. Literally as I was typing this, a commercial on the TV referred to "fatty holiday food."
This world, this country, is not made for people like me.
I either need to get my shit together or stop calling myself an anorexic, because currently I do not deserve that title.
Nobody ever NEEDS to eat. People just want to eat, and do. There is no need for such horrors as this:
Or this:
Insanity!!! Totally unacceptable.
Fat. FatfatfatfatfatFAT!!!!! That's all I am and all I'll ever be. I deserve to be slaughtered like the fat fucking pig I am.
Everywhere you turn is FAT. Either fattening food or anti-fat stuff like "Resolution Solutions" or diet ads. I am not built for a world like this. I do not want to be here. Literally as I was typing this, a commercial on the TV referred to "fatty holiday food."
This world, this country, is not made for people like me.
I either need to get my shit together or stop calling myself an anorexic, because currently I do not deserve that title.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Heart
I've Got a Stutter
Well, I don't.. my heart does. It's like it has the hiccups. It doesn't hurt, but it's not exactly comfortable either.
It beats like this (the xx is the "thud-thud" sound of the beat):
...xx....xx....xx.............XX...xx..xx..xx.....xx....xx....xx...........XX..XX..XX...xx..xx...........xx...xx....xx..
and so on.
They are called PVC's or Premature Ventricular Contractions. Apparently it's not life threatening. But try to tell me that at midnight when I'm trying to go to bed and it's skipping 4 or 5 times per minute and I can't catch my breath! All the doctors who have ever tried to treat me for it are like "it's just because you have an eating disorder... just eat!"
Well, it was doing this when I was in treatment last November. It does it every single day!!! Yeah, it's a wee bit worse when I haven't eaten well, but even when I eat well it still happens.
It's driving me crazy.
Well, I don't.. my heart does. It's like it has the hiccups. It doesn't hurt, but it's not exactly comfortable either.
It beats like this (the xx is the "thud-thud" sound of the beat):
...xx....xx....xx.............XX...xx..xx..xx.....xx....xx....xx...........XX..XX..XX...xx..xx...........xx...xx....xx..
and so on.
They are called PVC's or Premature Ventricular Contractions. Apparently it's not life threatening. But try to tell me that at midnight when I'm trying to go to bed and it's skipping 4 or 5 times per minute and I can't catch my breath! All the doctors who have ever tried to treat me for it are like "it's just because you have an eating disorder... just eat!"
Well, it was doing this when I was in treatment last November. It does it every single day!!! Yeah, it's a wee bit worse when I haven't eaten well, but even when I eat well it still happens.
It's driving me crazy.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Thoughts on Group
Here's one way to put it...
That is probably the best word to describe the group at my therapist's office that I have to go to on Wednesday nights (aka tonight!) It's just painfully awkward. I don't really like the people in the group. Well... they're okay. It's just... awkward!
I never want to say anything.
My stomach is always growling like a lion.
My butt falls asleep from sitting in one position for an hour and a half.
My armpits always sweat.
And so on.
On a brighter note, today has been better with food. And in like 30 minutes I get to go hang out with one of the kids I babysit. I get to pick her up at the bus stop, get her a snack and drop her off at art class. She's almost 7 and I love her dearly.
So today's good... so far, so good.
XO <3
That is probably the best word to describe the group at my therapist's office that I have to go to on Wednesday nights (aka tonight!) It's just painfully awkward. I don't really like the people in the group. Well... they're okay. It's just... awkward!
I never want to say anything.
My stomach is always growling like a lion.
My butt falls asleep from sitting in one position for an hour and a half.
My armpits always sweat.
And so on.
On a brighter note, today has been better with food. And in like 30 minutes I get to go hang out with one of the kids I babysit. I get to pick her up at the bus stop, get her a snack and drop her off at art class. She's almost 7 and I love her dearly.
So today's good... so far, so good.
XO <3
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Last Words
Airplane Crashes. (warning: reader discretion advised)
(no copyright intended. I don't own any of these pictures except for the last two.)
I am morbidly fascinated by them. Don't get me wrong, I am sad that they happen. But let's face it - without them, air travel wouldn't be as safe or successful as it is today. Every single person who dies in an airplane crash or other such aviation disaster is helping pave the way for safer air travel for us all.
Thank you.
I feel that these people, the pilots, crew, passengers and wrong-place-wrong-time-ers are all desperately underappreciated. Unsung heroes, if you will. There are a few exceptions (hijackers, namely.) But these situations exist in reality. Hiding from them or pretending they don't exist won't save people in the future nor will it bring back the dead.
I can't remember if I've mentioned this before, but I love airplanes. I like to watch them, read about them, hear about them and identify them. I also like to read or watch documentaries or shows about airplane crashes or disasters. It's so fascinating. Sad, but fascinating. I like to learn about the sometimes random connections of events that lead to crashes. I like to learn about the heroic actions people take to try to avert disaster, and sometimes they succeed. I like to learn about the legacies left by these events.
There are tons of "last words" videos flying around the internet these days. I've seen many of them. And many of them are inaccurate, and that bugs me severely.
I also find it fascinating that oftentimes you can sort of get a feel for what kind of crash it was. If the last words have absolutely nothing to do with a crash or imminent disaster, you can imagine that the flight crew had no idea what was coming. One interesting thing I noticed is that a lot of times in those "last words" videos, people pick and choose words from the cockpit voice recorder (CVR) transcripts to make it sound more dramatic. In a lot of cases the actual last words heard on a CVR are swear words in the native tongue of the speaker. Or something like that.
I'm sure that I'll post more entries about airplanes. I may even go into detail and analyze one or two of these crashes I'm about to mention. But for now, here are some accurate (or as accurate as possible) last words from CVR transcripts. I've included notable lines or phrases (by way of a title for each, in blue) the date, location, aircraft type, time, last words, souls aboard, survivors and any other applicable fatalities.
"I think that was him." "I think so." "...God bless him."
July 17, 1996 - New York City, NY
TransWorld Airlines (TWA) 800 (Boeing 747)
2030:19 RDO2 - TWA's eight hundred heavy climb and maintain one five thousand leaving one three thousand.
Souls aboard: 230
Survivors: 0
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
(no copyright intended. I don't own any of these pictures except for the last two.)
I am morbidly fascinated by them. Don't get me wrong, I am sad that they happen. But let's face it - without them, air travel wouldn't be as safe or successful as it is today. Every single person who dies in an airplane crash or other such aviation disaster is helping pave the way for safer air travel for us all.
Thank you.
I feel that these people, the pilots, crew, passengers and wrong-place-wrong-time-ers are all desperately underappreciated. Unsung heroes, if you will. There are a few exceptions (hijackers, namely.) But these situations exist in reality. Hiding from them or pretending they don't exist won't save people in the future nor will it bring back the dead.
I can't remember if I've mentioned this before, but I love airplanes. I like to watch them, read about them, hear about them and identify them. I also like to read or watch documentaries or shows about airplane crashes or disasters. It's so fascinating. Sad, but fascinating. I like to learn about the sometimes random connections of events that lead to crashes. I like to learn about the heroic actions people take to try to avert disaster, and sometimes they succeed. I like to learn about the legacies left by these events.
There are tons of "last words" videos flying around the internet these days. I've seen many of them. And many of them are inaccurate, and that bugs me severely.
I also find it fascinating that oftentimes you can sort of get a feel for what kind of crash it was. If the last words have absolutely nothing to do with a crash or imminent disaster, you can imagine that the flight crew had no idea what was coming. One interesting thing I noticed is that a lot of times in those "last words" videos, people pick and choose words from the cockpit voice recorder (CVR) transcripts to make it sound more dramatic. In a lot of cases the actual last words heard on a CVR are swear words in the native tongue of the speaker. Or something like that.
I'm sure that I'll post more entries about airplanes. I may even go into detail and analyze one or two of these crashes I'm about to mention. But for now, here are some accurate (or as accurate as possible) last words from CVR transcripts. I've included notable lines or phrases (by way of a title for each, in blue) the date, location, aircraft type, time, last words, souls aboard, survivors and any other applicable fatalities.
"I think that was him." "I think so." "...God bless him."
TransWorld Airlines (TWA) 800 (Boeing 747)
2030:19 RDO2 - TWA's eight hundred heavy climb and maintain one five thousand leaving one three thousand.
Souls aboard: 230
Survivors: 0
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
December 29, 1972 – Miami, FL, USA
Eastern Airlines 401 (Lockheed L1011)
2342:09 CAM1 – Hey, what’s happening here?
Souls aboard: 176
Survivors: 75
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"We gaan" (We're going.)
March 27, 1977
The Tenerife Disaster – Los Rodeos, Tenerife, Canary Islands
KLM 4805 (Boeing 747)
1706: 35 CAM1– Jawel (“oh yes!” – emphatic, followed by
a scream)
…
PanAm 1736 (Boeing 747)
1706:40 CAM2 – There he is… look at him! Goddamn that son-of-a-bitch is coming! Get off!
Get off! Get off!
Souls aboard:
KLM-248 (Survivors-0)
Pan Am-396 (Survivors-61)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
May 25, 1979 – Chicago, IL, USA
American Airlines 191 (Douglas DC-10)
1503:31 CAM1 – Rotate
Souls aboard: 271
Survivors: 0 (plus 2 ground fatalities)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
November 12, 2001 – New York City (Belle Harbor), NY, USA
American Airlines 587 (Airbus A300)
0916:12 HOT1 – Get out of it, get out of it.
Souls aboard: 260
Survivors: 0 (plus 5 ground fatalities)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
August 2, 1985 – Dallas, TX, USa
Delta Airlines 191 (Lockheed L1011)
1805:55 CAM? – Oh sh*t!
Souls aboard: 163
Survivors: 27 (one ground fatality)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Oh, you want to get specific and make it a runway, huh?"
July 19, 1989 – Sioux City, IA, USA
United Airlines 232 (Douglas DC-10)
????:?? Unk – Left throttle, left, left, left, left…. God!
Souls aboard: 296
Survivors: 185
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
July 17, 2007 - São Paulo, Brazil
TAM Airlines 3054 (Airbus A320)
1848:49 CAM? – (male voice) oh no..
Souls aboard: 187
Survivors: 0 (plus 12 ground fatalities)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
May 26, 1991 – Thailand
Lauda Air 004 (Boeing 767)
2030:58 CAM? – Damn it!
Souls aboard: 223
Survivors: 0
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
October 4, 1992 – Amsterdam, Netherlands
El Al 1862 – Boeing 747 Cargo
1935:25 CREW – Going down 1862, going down, going down,
copied going down. (In background: raise
all the flaps, all the flaps raise.
Lower the gear.)
Souls aboard: 4
Survivors: 0 (plus 39 ground fatalities)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
And last but not least... the one we all remember..
"We're gonna be in the Hudson."
January 15, 2009 – New York City, NY, USA
USAirways 1549 (Airbus A320)
1530:38 HOT1 – we’re gonna brace.
Souls aboard: 155
Survivors: 155
To everyone who lost their lives in any of these accidents or ones I didn't mention:
You can rest knowing that all the fear, angst, pain and confusion you felt wasn't for naught. The FAA and NTSB make changes because of the lessons your experience taught.
Rest In Peace.
Author's Extra:
These are pictures I took in the summer of 2012. My mom, grandma and I made a trip to the Mid-America Air Museum which is located next to the Sioux Gateway Airport in Sioux City, Iowa. I got to talk to the man who owns the museum. He was there the day of the United Airlines 232 crash landing in Sioux City. He met the pilot, Captain Al Haynes, and the DC-10 Flight Instructor, Dennis Fitch, who both played integral roles in getting that crippled jet on the ground successfully. There was tons of memorabilia in the museum.
This is a picture of the spot where 232's landing gear punched through the old runway 22 (now out of service.)
This is a picture of me wearing a sweatshirt I got at the Mid-America Air Musem. :)
United 232 will be one of the crashes I will revisit in a later post.
XO!
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