All My Shit:

Today I have been pretty healthy, and I am blogging right now to avoid the binge urge that is sneaking up on me. The reason I use the moniker that I do is that I think of the cravings as a dragon, like something outside of myself or within myself that can consume me (and anything else in it's path). I am also born the year of the dragon, and dragons have alot of meaning in the world of addiction so it seemed appropriate. The "daft" is the bipolar thing...

ANYWAY

I have had quite a year, and Thursday another young death rocked my world again.

Year in review (events leading to current ED state):

January, February- ED, coke habit at their worst. 30 lbs underweight, no periods, teeth rotting out of my head, nose bleeds, depression because I am in love with my boyfriend who doesn't love me, zero sleep.

April- Find out the ass hole boy friend is in Europe with some other chick. Clearly we break up (my birthday). 3 days later, find out I'm pregnant, 10 days after that I miscarry. Anorexia shifts to what has been termed "exercise bulimia".

May- 2 friends from high school die, both drug related. E was was 20, M was 23. One friend is very close, he was in a car accident after popping a bunch of oxy.

June, July- Begin trying actively to recover from ED. Nutritionist, exercise councelor, gyno and dentist appointments, seeing a shrink, sleep councelor, self-help books... I really want fucking out. Some improvement, ups and downs with ED. Out of control whoreishness on my part (the Brittish guy, the ex-priest meth head maniac dude, the dairy farmer with the bod, a couple exes...).

August- Really good friend, D, dies of meth overdose. ED enters straight up bulimia phase for first time ever. Gain alot of weight (almost at "normal").

September- Things start going better. Still alot of binge eating, but exercise habits under control.

October- Meet the new guy, totally out of the depression. Still some overeating, but no purging UNTIL the events of Thursday.

Last week I find out another friend of mine, A, has fallen to meth OD. I knew she was heading that way, and when I saw her at D's funeral I said goodbye knowing it was for real, but as much as you try and prepare yourself, you can't be ready. I wasn't shocked when I heard, but still devastated. I was bingeing, running and barfing my head off for like 3 days, haven't been that bad in months. Today and yesterday I have eaten slightly less than I should and exercised slightly more (according to the "professional recommendations"), but am doing better.

Honestly, I think the fact that it was only like 3 days of ED stuff means I am gettin better. I envision the "recovery" process as ups and downs, and over time the ups become more and more frequent.

Rest in peace, A.

I Hate Being Bulimic

Today was even worse than yesterday... I have hit a new low. I want to escape everyone I know and not speak to them any more. I hate being judged so fucking harshly all the time. Last night I "went skiing" so I was low this morning. I was bingeing all day and I decided I was going to exercise purge, which I hadn't actually done since June. I additionally actually successfully made myself throw up, only the third or fourth time I have actually done that. I really don't want to go this route, I have a plan for the next few days where I can make up the rest of the binge calories from this weekend. I just have lost my "skinny cushion" and crossed over too the point where I actually am heavier than I ought to be. I need to get to my healthy weight in a healthy way, and I need to find support. I hate the way I feel right now, I just want to sleep, but instead I am going out to get wasted. Again.

Binge: I am A Fucking Liar

Binge. Cookies, brownies, ice cream, chocolate, peanut butter, cereal, milk, brown sugar out of the jar, hot chocolate mix, totilla chips, pita chips, hummus... God I am so gross. And now I get to tell my nutritionist what I have done. Awesome.
I am alone in my apartment, and am nervous about the weekend. No, nothing bad is happening, I am just generally unable to handle every day life. I asked my new guy to just hang out and relax with me tonight, but now I'm worried I will bore him, and I think he thinks I meant my place but I can't do that now because apparently we are hosting wine night for some people in my room mate's sorority. My favorite. My room mate's boyfriend is in town and they like to mess around with the bedroom door open so I am annoyed. Some friends of mine are coming down from Chicago, but I honestly don't feel like going out and getting fucked up with them. (I am currently ignoring a phone call). Tomorrow there are plans for early drinking and football tailgating, and my room mate wants me to go with her and her man (drag), my guy wants me to go meet his parents (eek! so not ready), and I want to get outside and run and not stop until I hit Memphis. I would burn off all these gross calories and not have to see anyone.

I feel so fucking fat and disgusting.

Oh, and I had a pseudo-revelation today: I think I know why I am such a compulsive fucking liar. When I make things up it is so people will think there is some legitimate reason for me feeling the way I feel, when in fact I have no fucking clue what triggers my massive mood swings. Example: I feel depressed, angry and utterly disconnected. I tell someone that someone I know OD'd last night, and I am worried. Sometimes it has been true when I have said this, sometimes it has not. But the feeling I want someone to empathize with is the same. So fucked up, I hate the way I use and manipulate people. I hate the negative impact my existence has on that of others. I want to drown my own feelings rather than make up reasons for them.

Maybe its another piece of the ED puzzle, maybe I'm just a sadist who enjoys spreading hurt and dishonesty. Who knows, not I.

Ski Trips and Hippie Flips: Why I Love Drugs

Warning: Post is poorly structured and tainted by mind meanerings induced by the title subject.

Is it drug abuse or mind expansion? In addition to some indulgence of late in a little blow, I have also been revisiting my teenage love of hallucinogens. The combination of cocaine and LSD puts me in a really fantastic place: I understand how inconsequential my physical body is in relation the grander scheme of my existence, I approach old problems with new perspective, and when I come down to my Earthly body once again, I am motivated, I am loving and I am greatful to exist. Where is the harm here?

When I was younger, my Mom (a skier herself, if you will), would periodically look at my siblings and I and say, in jest, "Hey, Kid! Get off the drugs!" When we would deny the accusation, her response was invariably, "Then why so down? Maybe you should get on some." This always came with a laugh, but the interchange has developed new levels of meaning as I have come to understand her more fully.

Drugs have always interested me intensely. The ways in which human consciousness is altered is unfathomable and enthralling. I work in a psychopharmacology laboratory, where I have learned a great deal about cocaine, LSD and also methamphetamine (and also have gotten to perform some wicked cool experiments on some unsuspecting rodents...), but better than what I have learned in class or in the lab is what I have learned from my, uh, personal field research. I have learned who I am, what I am doing, what I value most in life.

Yes, I am aware, there is a very consequential downside to drug use. I have seen far more death than I someone my age should have, and this is entirely due to overdoses. HOWEVER, generalization to all drugs of the risks of one or two drugs is inappropriate. Heroin kills, methamphetamine kills. But I challenge any of you to give me an instance of someone dying from mushrooms or even LSD.

Alright, time to go watch the cartoons playing on my ceiling.

It is my body, right?

ED got really out of control last week. I was bingeing constantly, and I felt so freed by the fact that I didn't have to write it down that I took that as permission to do whatever I wanted. Also, because I have been a bit happier lately I have not had the immense feelings of disgust and self-loathing that usually accompany a binge, and thus have been less motivated to avoid it. After a few days of watching myself grow fatter, however, the usual ED feelings returned. By then I had reached the "fuck it" point, and was less than driven to stop on my own.
I went to the nutritionist on Tuesday and I am back to having to write everything down. I am glad to say that even after a solid week or so of bingeing , I didn't gain as much as I'd thought (about 2 lbs.) I am happy to have the accountability back.
One thing I tend to do when I don't want to have to tell her what I ate is I chew and spit. Without swallowing it is not eating, and spitting is not purging, so I feel like this is a good way around things. My room mates have carrot cake, butterscotch cookies and donuts on the counter "for whoever wants them". And these items have been the victims of my strange mastication ritual. Seriously, who tells a bulimic she can have all the baked goods she wants, and then leaves her alone in the apartment? Are they trying to sabotage me? I really don't need their help, I've got that covered on my own.
I hate how much I care about my body, how much I try to perfect and ruin it in order to somehow win or protect myself. If I am thin I am superior, if I am fat I am safe. I wish we existed as entities of disembodied consciousness and could just love and connect without the terror, judgement, vanity and disgust entailed in an embodied existence.

In other news, things with JBM are going pretty well. I did sleep with him, surprise surprise, and something quite odd happened:
Usually I remember sex in montage form, like I can only recall select blurbs and images, because I slip into this alterna state that feels like something outside myself. My shrink says I do this because I "have not dealt with past sexual trauma". I don't know if he is right, but it never really bothered me, it just helped make things easy to separate (sex and intimacy). With JBM, right as I was about to check out, he looked me in the eye as if to say, "stay here with me". It was so strange, I was so present. I remember it completely. It felt almost awkward to me to look at him later and remember what had gone on between us. Very vulnerable, I am not sure how I feel about this. Another instance in which life without a body might be simpler, (though possibly less pleasurable. )

Straight. Up. Terrified.

So things are moving pretty fast with new guy (we'll call him JBM)... he knows so many things I usually refuse to tell people, and he is already talking about me meeting his parents. I am excited but scared shitless. He is so incredibly smart and open and he seems to really like me. I am still so afraid to fall again, but don't think I can help it.
Last night, drama: We were at a bar watching the Cubs games with some friends, when who shows up but my ex? It is true: the man who told me, at 107 lbs., that I should lose five more and look like Keira Knightley, the man who took me all over the world but never loved me, the man who on my birthday this year was in Spain with some other woman, the man whose child I miscarried (after we broke up, he never knew it happened), the man who really hurt me for the first time in my life. He shows up. We'll call him DSS.
JBM and I were on the back terrace having a smoke, when I hear DSS on his phone just outside. I turn, and sure enough, there he is. I had told JBM about him and what I had gone through (hey, he asked!), and when I told him who I had seen he looked at me very seriously. He said, "I will do whatever you want me to do; I want you to be OK." He rubbed my arms and shoulders a bit and we went inside again to his friends. He kept me close to him and I felt so much better. DSS had come in the bar, was still on his phone, and walked past us several times. I felt OK though, miraculously. I said I was sorry, and JBM looked at me like I was crazy. "You have nothing to be sorry about, I just want to make sure your OK." And strangely enough, I was. This guy is really cares about me, he makes me feel safe.
I haven't slept with him yet, and I am really afraid to. I don't intend to for quite a while. I usually can separate sex and intimacy pretty readily, or at least I can have sex with people I don't care about without really feeling anything. But this is totally different... haven't ever actually been afraid of what I would feel before. Exciting and terrifying.
In terms of ED I am still not doing great. I am typing with one hand so I can pound chips and ice cream while I write this. One day at a time.

A New Chapter?

I went out with the new guy on Monday and I had a really fabulous time- really great conversation. He has a lot of ideas and experiences and such, but more important than that he is really open and straightforward. He seems to be very in to me, but I am trying to be a little reserved. I want to learn from my last mistake and not invest myself in something before I know what exactly that something is. Holding back isn't my strong suit though, I am pretty all or nothing. I will likely see him again tonight or tomorrow and I am really looking forward to it despite myself.
Funny, it seems as soon as I swear off men I find one. A couple of weeks ago I found myself realizing that a new realationship is just a "ghost solution" I had put in my head- something that seems like the cure-all for life's downs. I have lived long enough to know that landing that guy, getting to that weight, getting that scholarship/job/award etc.- these things won't fix it all. There will still be ups and downs, good days and bad days. So I told myself to stop looking for a guy, because he wouldn't dso me any good anyway. The saga continues.

In terms of ED progress, I have been very healthful today, but other than today the bingeing has been as bad or worse as it was a couple of weeks ago. I am not performing my exercise purges any longer, however. My body seems to have leveled off and I am not really gaining weight any more. I am exercising regularly and sleeping somewhat regularly. I think this may be as good as it gets for me for a while.
One major difference: although the behavior hasn't changed, my emotions surrounding it have. I am not lonely or depressed very frequently before hand (usually just bored or tense), and I am no disgusted and depressed and self-loathing after. I am just going through the motions with minimal emotional response. This is a HUGE improvement, it is nice not to hate myself.
I took a quiz online that tells whether you have ED. In July I scored 89 (75 guarentees ED), and yesterday I only scored 38. I am making tremendous progress.