Update

   Today has been an emotional day and yet I still feel so blessed that I avoided a hospital admission during Christmas. Damien still didn't quite grasp the opening presents part of the usual traditions, but he truly loves playing with all his new toys and that makes me so happy. I almost missed it after collapsing again the other day and being rushed to the hospital in need of fluid and potassium but they got me through until today. Now onto the medical update.
   Our day began visiting IR for them to look at my port. It accessed perfectly, but the doc said he thought it was too deep and not ideal for me and has given the reccomendation for a hickman line. After that Josh wheeled me around the hospital trying to kill time until our primary doc appt. When we finally got called back they discovered my wt had dropped quite a bit in the last six weeks, they didn't tell me of course because it is still a trigger but it was concerning.
   When my doc came in he had to lay out our plan. He will be talking to GI and general surgery attendings and the current plan is for me to be admitted from my surgery appt tomorrow to begin TPN. He said even though my labs weren't horrible yet I look really bad and it has ben six wks with barely any nutrition so it is time to do this. He said their protocol is for me to be admitted and stay until they can get the mixture just right to keep my levels safe. They are going to pull my port and replace it with a hickman line. They couldn't even draw blood from it after my clinic visit. He said I will have to go through a whole new battery of tests to see if there is anything we can do for the j-tube and save me from the consequences of TPN. He said this hospital stay will be tough but necessary. I asked if he would be able to call first thing in the morning and let me know if I need to come in ready to stay for awhile and he said just bring everything like you are for sure staying because we are out of options.
   Transplantation came up again and he said we aren't there yet and hopefully can avoid it for awhile longer. That kind of burst my bubble because at first he was so hopefully we could find away through this and now I am suppose to begin preparing for transplant sooner rather than later. For now I am just happy they are finally going to get my strength back up. He said the TPN will make me feel better and the gut rest is prob the best thing right now. I could tell how discouraged he was to have to bring TPN back into the picture, but I feel safe with this doctor.
   I was able to be honest, I told him that not getting nutrition and the wt loss was very triggering. I assured him I wasn't going to relapse I just have been having those old thoughts creep back in. To my surprise he was super understanding and said that it is normal that this would be a trigger for my anorexia. When I started crying and apologizing for being difficult he reassured me that I was strong and the disease was difficult and for some unknown reason we just can't find out why my intestines won't work.
   I feel defeated and relieved at the same time. I'm terrified of the liver and sepsis complications that we will bring with TPN, but to have the energy to be up and around and not curled up in bed is what I truly want. We can avoid the ambulance trips every other week for fluids and electrolytes, and above all else I can get my quality of life back. I am so happy they are pulling the devil port and putting in the hickman, no more three tries to get the needle in or hematomas from fluid in the tissues when they miss. I feel like we finally have a plan and that is the most important thing.
   Being sick has given me a whole different view on things. I now see how important everyday is, spending time with my family and mending old wounds. I feel like I am full of a renewed sense to fight. I might not have fifty years or fifty days, but I'm going to keep pushing through. These last few months I have been so scared and everything seemed so up in the air and now we have a plan...which is more than we had yesterday. Life is precious and I wish I could go back and tell that to my younger self who couldn't see past the starving, purging, cutting, and overall self destruction. I will fight for my life, I won't be ashamed of being sick anymore or try to hide how I truly feel. I now know I am not alone and I have people who love me. Thank you to everyone for their love and support because it means the world to me.

Fighting the unthinkable

   It has taken me a few days to get up the strength to process everything and share it on here. To be honest, I considered not saying anything at all but after talking to Josh we agreed that if we are going to keep up this fight there is no reason to hide the battle. It is no secret that the last six months my health has been going downhill much faster than anyone could have hoped. On Friday we found ourselves in the ER at Barnes-Jewish Hospital dealing with the usual tube problems. We expected maybe to be admitted again or the usual discussion about switching to a bigger tube etc, but that was not what we heard.
   The attending surgeon came in and told us he had some unfortunate news. We had thought all this time that we simply lost this tube site and it would need to be put in fresh intestine and all would be well...wrong! The doc told us the excessive drainage is because the rest of my intestines have become so diseased they are barely still functioning. He went on to say our options are running out, this tube site will not work for feeds and is so painful they added an additional pain med while they figured everything out. I was given the option of being admitted for the weekend and kept on PCA dilaudid or waiting until Tuesday to come back while they looked over our options. I made the choice to stay home and enjoy time with my family.
   They spoke to us about what we are facing. They would like to start fresh with a whole new panel of tests, discuss our short and long term options, and basically prepared us for the unthinkable. If we decided to go with pallative care I won't see past five years and that is lucky, if we made the choice to fight there are once again no promises. We have obviously picked the second option, I'm twenty six years old giving up will not be an option. Re-siting is a band aid and will maybe buy us another few months on tube feeds and they are concerned about the safety of another site. The dieticians have declared TPN as our saving grace while the docs only see someone who has been unable to avoid blood infections without the sugary TPN helping them along. They said TPN will obviouslyy have to occur if we decide to leave the tube off the table, but reminded us sepsis is unpredictable as is everything else. They are looking into more surgical options, but we've had to face the fact that transplantation is on the table.
   We are now facing the unknown, don't get me wrong we have never been in denial about this disease this is simply the first time they have flat out given a life expectancy. I'm scared, scared of so many things I can barely express them. The pain is unbearable sometimes which they assure us is one of their main priorities. I want to scream and yell like a two year old, I have so many emotions right now. I'm scared of more procedures, terrified of transplant, and horrified I will have to be away from my son. Damien and Josh are my everything and keep me going when the pain convinces me I'm too weak to go on and being away from them is like having a piece of me gone.
   I have no intention of giving up, I do not believe in limits. I will endure and do whatever it takes and I WILL SEE MY SON GROW UP! I've prayed and yelled at God, I won't go quietly and I won't let this disease win. It has taken me a long time to find myself, to find that I do have a fighter and survivor in me, and I know I was made a mommy for a reason. I'm not a liar, I will probably complain and cry about pain sometimes, but I won't stop. I have friends who are fighting this same battle and worse and they inspire me everyday. I am reminded that we have a purpose and we are all survivors. I'm scared, but I'm not a quitter. I beat anorexia, I put down razorblades, and I've done the impossible...I will do it again. My job is to be a mommy to my son and wife to Josh and that is not changing sick or not. Like I've said before...I am down but sure as hell not out.

Sometimes you have to claw and yell to get what you need

   What are most people doing in their mid twenties? They are graduation college, deciding over graduate school or career, settling down and even marrying that special someone, there is talk of kids, dogs, and buying that special dreamhouse. Your life has just begun, all of those years of studying have paid off along with those many hangovers that got the drinking out of your system. Your life is just beginning or at least that is what it is suppose to be.
   I learned a long time ago that thoase "suppose tos" don't really happen for everyone. By the time I was eighteen and ready to embark on the next charpter of my life I was already consumed by my anorexia, bulimia and self harm. I was a walking talking time bomb. By the time I made it to school I spent more time laying in hospital beds being fed through a tube down my nose than attending classes. And, that is how it was for year after year....catch Andrea, shove things down her nose and in her veins...save her from herself again.
   I made huge mistakes, lost friends, lost family all because I was trapped in that anorexic self destructive mind set. I was raped, lost my great grand dad, my mom and the family dog all within a few months. I had a breakdown. I ended up getting with a man who could be my dad, we had a ceremony and I praise Jesus that I never signed that certificate. What followed was more tragedy....I was diagnosed with sever gastroparesis, they removed my stomach, I was back on j tube feeds, I overdosed ending up in the intensive care, and I was pretty much ready to give up.
   By 23 I had hit rock bottom and out of nowhere Josh came into my life and got me ro stand up again. He couldn't save me but he offered me an escape I didn't think I had. It became a slow, up hill battle to get to the surface. I can't lie somedays it was two steps forward and four steps back, but slowly and surely I began that long road to recovery. By this time we knew I was sick with gastroparesis but did not know the extent of the damage.
   Skipping ahead, here I am 26 yrs the mommy of the most beautiful, blue eyed miracle God granted me. The gastroparesis has made my stomach useless, for now we have intestines that are faultering also, constantly losing access for feed tube. I have a j tube to get my medicince, my tube feeds, I have a port in my chest to make sure I can stay hydrated. Eventually transplant is on the table but for now we use pain meds to keep me functioning and being a good mommy which I could hide the pain for him anyday. The docs all say the same thing...we know the scary truth I might not make it another ten, twenty, thirty years, but we don't dwell on that we fight for a cure and don't let the disease take us down.
   I blog and I am so brutally honesy because I pray for all of you trapped in your eating disorders not considering the consequences. Fact is it will shorten your life some don't even make it to recovery. You deserve better than that, you deserve to live your dreams. Fight for recover, claw, kick and scream to hold onto your recover. Its a choice, if I would have made the choice to recover I might not be bedridden facing my 90th surgery or spending every waking second with my son terrified I don't have another day. You deserve recover please fight for it.

Monday's events

   This post is a little different than usual. When I woke up Monday I didn't feel much different than usual, dehydrated, weak, and dizzy. We just figured it was from being unable to run fluids or tube feeds for awhile. Those are symproms I live with everyday so I really just pushed through as usual. We took Damien to my parent's house and headed to see the surgeon to discuss the j tube problems that have been going on. The doctor was so brutally honest I can't help but respect him for that. He explained the tube wasn't malfunctioning it was simply my intestines worsening at a quicker rate than we hope. He said we are pretty much out of accesses and he wouldn't risk losing maybe the one or two left in my intestine. He informed us that unless GI at Wash U has a miracle up their sleeves I'm going to need to start working with the transplant people...officially terrified.
   Needless to say I was discouraged. When we got home I put on my pjs and ended getting sick after eating a few pretzels. I knew I just needed two lay down. As I reached up to grab the movie and the next thing I know I was laying on the floor and Josh was on the phone with paramedics. Before I could totally understand what was going on there were a room full of guys surrounding me asking me questions and making sure I didn't try to get up. They were concerned about how I hit my head so I had to be strapped to a backboard with a c collar on...fun times.
   The ride to the hospital was surprisingly fast and I went out of it again in the ambulance and they were great about waking me up. They got me to the ER and my port was accessed for dilaudid and a very large dose of LRs and potassium. My EKG was abnormal with prolounged QT issues which they said was probably the result of severe malnutrition. Once they tanked me up and and got my vitals and labs under control they let me leave.
   My fear has kicked in completely. For the first time ever he was honest and said surgically we had no options besides transplant after spending tons of time looking over my CT. I'm terrified of transplant....I was suppose to have a few more years. Now with them wanting to being TPN back and my already countless line infections I will get listed soon. I worry about Josh and Damien...I know my parents will take him whenever I need help but still. I'm the mommy and I'm suppose to be here.
   I'm sharing this with you because like I've said secrets will not help anyone and if my history can help someone then I'm going to be as brutally honest as can be. If you ever have a topic you want covered or just questions feel free to ask. I am an open book. I spent too long hiding behind my ED and self harm now its time to use my past demons for good. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read or ask questions.

Tests and triggers

   These last few weeks have felt  like a test, I feel like I've wanted to break and give in to my old demons because I just want to make the fear and pain disappear. I've let being sick get in my head and that old voice has been clawing trying to convince me it could make me feel numb again. Needless to say I told that voice to take a flying leap, that doesn't mean that I still don't feel it whispering in my ear esp days when I'm so weak I have to have help walking from point A to point B. We have been on such a roller coaster with the docs and hospitals discussions of more surgery and more infections making me feel like shit. I'm blessed that I don't deal with this alone, I have family willing to help when I need and not everyone can be so blessed.
   I've found myself sitting and thinking about what is really triggering those old thoughts, that need to be numb. I've come to the conclusion that I'm afraid. I'm afraid of the uncertainity of everything, it scares me that I'm not incontrol of my body or my pain, my body is sick and getting sicker and there is little I can do to stop it and it is terrifying. I used my anorexia and cutting to control my body and my emotions, I know now that I wasn't controlling anything rather destroying myself into that illusion. I look at my son and my mind races to the "what ifs", I cry just thinking about being taken away from him, not being able to see him grow, not being able to let him know how much his mommy loved him and how he saved her. I truly believe he cemented my recovery, the day I saw him I vowed he would never see me as that shell I use to be starving and bleeding away to nothing. He is my reason for recovery, he is the reason I can say I will never let those demons back to the front of my mind. I was given a miracle and when God gives you a miracle you don't ask why you just say thank you.  Now, saying that I've found myself angry with God as I get sicker, sometimes praying and yelling that He can't mean for me to be taken away from the very miracle He gave me, how cruel that would be. Mind you this is me talking to God so it is usually a very bipolar conversation full of anger, sadness, joy, thankfulness, and about every other emotion you can think.
   Fear just has a way of eating at you and its hard to ignore it. I am grateful for being alive today and free from that darkness that almost ended me years ago. I sometimes think about the way things were back then I put all of my efforts into destroying myself, more than once almost succeeding. I was so lost in my head that I couldn't see a future all I saw was an escape plan and if it weren't for some miraculous friends showing up when they did I probably would have succeeded. I've been trapped in the darkness before and I understand the desperation to escape it, but I promise if you are there right now you can escape into light without hurting yourself. I spent so many years feeling trapped in the darkness, even in a group of people I felt like nothing I needed to escape, to run off and go cut or purge anything to just avoid being alone with the one person I couldn't handle...me.
   I know in my current medical situation everyone wonders how I hold it together, how I handle the bad news or bad emotions without turning to the old me. It is really simple, it triggers the hell out of me somedays to have a body that no longer does what I tell it to do, but at the end of the day my mind is free. I can smile and hug my son, I can play with him despite the pain going on with my malfunctioning organs, and I get to be a mommy. I'm aware there are no promises but I have today, just today to be just Andrea and just Damien's mommy. Maybe that isn't much for people who want to judge...I don't have a job or seemingly any positive influence on this world that I know of, but if they knew where I came from and can see me now I am a different person. I'm not a doctor but I'm a mother and was never suppose to be and I'm proud of that.
   Anorexic Andrea spent all of her time trying to be perfect, trying to make everyone else happy while slowly destroying herself from the inside out. I cared so deeply what everyone else thought of me and I wanted to be able to be fine for them. It took a long time for me to admit I wasn't fine and even longer to begin that climb out of the mud. Now I can say I am devoted to my son and devoted to helping others who are still clawing their way out of the mud and the muck. I no longer smile when I'm miserable or pretend to be ok when I'm not because I've understood that the clouds will always come back but I can make a choice to ride the storm out until the sun shines again or I can let the darkness overtake me and become empty again allowing my demons to rule me and there is no time for anyone else in your life when you let them in. Despite my fears and I promise there are a lot of them I push through and I will keep pushing through. I have survived the darkness and I will keep surviving and smiling and spending as much time with my son no matter how short it could be. I won't give up. I strongly encourage you to not give up because I promise you I hit absolute rock bottom and I came back and I promise so can you. Please never feel like you have nothing to offer because I promise you do. You are not alone, I'm here along with many others who have survived. Please don't let fear rule you...fear of the unknown, fear of recovery, fear of feeling, fear of finding that you deserve better. I believe in everyone, you can beat your demons and there is always help. I will help you if you wish just don't give up, please don't try to escape the wrong way it is not better. Please keep fighting.

Opinions on pro anorexia

   I was asked to discuss this topic by a beautiful young lady I talk to on facebook. Most people understand that anorexia and bulimia are very serious life threatening diseases that ruin your body and, in some cases cause death. There is a whole other world of believers out there that call themselves Pro anorexia, pro bulimia, or pro eating disorders. These groups mainly exist online and offer "support" to others usually just starting out in their eating disorders. If you've ever been to one you can see how frightening it really is.
   These people preach anorexia as a lifestyle choice rather than a disease. They post up tips and rules to avoid your body's signal that it needs food all the while teaching you how to get everything by your parents. You are expected to put your eating disorder and weight above everything else. People will sign up for group fast and they will remind you how weak you are if you give in and provide your body with fuel to run off of.
   Maybe you are wondering how I stumbled across these site, well I've always told my readers I would never lie and that fact still stands. I use to live by their rules and I was convinced that they were right and the "support" I was giving was the greatest advice I've ever had. Everyone in my life kept telling me I was so sick, how I had to eat survive and I was getting so fed up. Then I found these groups and everyone told me to keep going strong that nothing was more important than my anorexia. I kept being told this was a lifesytle choice not a disease that was killing me. I wore my braclets proud showing I was a true anorexic.
   Even when my parents put me in mccallum place to get me help I fought them...I fought the staff until one day another patient pulled me aside and told me the only way I would get out was to eat and they taught me how to fool them and exercise my way out. I listened to this patient and I allowed myself some food, not a lot just enough to get me out of inpatient and as soon as I got home I contacted my "friends" who all told me how awesome it was I got out and do on and encouraged me to lose the weight I had put on.
   I had blinders on, I couldn't see that the people running these groups were seriously sick individuals who were just trying to bring others down too. They enjoyed having other people they could relate to and if they could keep you believing that you were fine and everyone else was just trying to make you fat you would never see the truth. They made you believe when you looked in the mirror all you could find was problem areas and blinded you to the sickly reflection that everyone else saw.
    Anorexia and bulimia are not lifestyle choices they are a slow form of suicide. Trust me I understand the need to be the sickest, people couldn't possibility see how hardcore you were unless you got the tube down your nose to be force fed. You scream at everyone who tries to help you because you have it undercontrol...this is the lifestyle you have chosen and no one could take it from you.
   Here is the problem eventually you begin to realize what has happened. You have made it to where the only "friends" you have are girls online telling you how being skeletal is everything that the closer you get to zero the more control you have. Your family and real life friends have all been pushed away because there is only room for your eating disorder in your life. In my case, there was no room for me to go to the school I got a music scholarship, no room for a boyfriend, basically no room for any fun because you convinced yourself you didn't deserve it.
   That's the thing about your ED it is the ultimate liar telling you everyone hates you, you don't deserve food, you don't deserde to be loved or have a life outside of ED, and the biggest lie of all is that it is protecting you and never hurting you.
   Anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any other mental disease. When you starve your body long enough your organs begin to shutdown and eventually your body can shut down too. Bulimia is a nasty way to go also, imagine going on a huge binge and then heading to the bathroom to purge but this time things go wrong, your overly distended stomach ruptures and you begin throwing up blood and need to be rushed to the hospital. I've seen the picture of a dead woman head in the toilet her body covered in what they thought were bruises but found out it was the contents of her stomach settling into her thighs. I don't see how anyone could see that as a lifestyle.
   Because of my eating disorder I've lost my health quicker than I should have. I'm twenty six years old and have spent more time in hospitals than most do in their life. I have a miraculous baby who will see his mommy go through a transplant and more surgeries. I've had over ninety procedures, I'm fed through a tube in my small intestine, and get my hydration through a central line in my heart. I live everyday scared to death that I won't see my son grow up, that he will never know how much I love him.
   I didn't write all of this to scare you but to show you the harsh reality of eating disorders. You might buy into its a lifestyle with no consequences but I promise you it is not. If you make the choice to keep your ED there is a good chance you will die alone and never know what you could have done with your life. You are precious and you were put here for more than just starving yourselves. I know when you are just starting and those claws are just digging in you can't see past that high you get off of the scale dropping everytime you stand on. Or the high of being empty, which was always one for me. Now that I have been in recovery for three years I would love to be able to enjoy all those foods I denied myself for so long and I have a stomach and intestines that don't work.
   I promise you those girls you meet in chat groups or websites aren't trying to be your friend they are dragging you down with them. Everyone seems to want someone to be misrerable with them. I spend my time trying to get those pro sites taken down they just keep popping as soon as we get one down. I know accepting the fact that you are sick can be difficult, but dying is so much worse. You cannot have a life and an eating disorder. I don't think I can say it any plainer than that. I'm not trying to scare people into recovery, but I know what happens if you can't find the help you need. Rather than having a life you will be in and out of hospitals and eventually like fighting for your life and trying to make ammends with a body you spent so many years trying to destroy. The people you meet in those groups are not friends, like I said they just want someone else to be as miserable as they are. There are plenty of pro recovery groups that can help those in need of finding treatment.
   I've heard of people especially young women say they want to be sick and anorexic or want to have a tube down their nose tied to a bed. It truly disturbs me...having a tube shoved down your nose while being held down against your will is not a prize for not eating...it is a life saving procedure that hurts more than I can describle. There are serious consequences to having an eating disorder...it is an illness and it will kill you. It is my hope that people who read my blog understand how serious this is and how quickly things can get I bad shape. I really hope people start to reach out for help...everyone is beautiful and more than a number!

Recovering vs recovered

   Even now three years into my recovery somedays I wonder if my demons will ever completely go away. I know this is a big debate between people, everyone has a different opinion on whether you can completely be recovered from your ED meaning you no longer are in that constant battle that one feels when recovering. Now before people start biting my head off, I'm not saying it is impossible, but saying that it might not be possible for everyone. I've never been shy about my struggles or tried to hide my past. I am not ashamed of what I did while I was sick, not proud but not ashamed. I hit the bottom, I lived in my own hell unable to find a way to escape. When I thought I couldn't endure anymore pain I swallowed enough pills to end up in the intensive care unit and even then I simply felt like more of a failure and fell deeper into it all. Three years ago I was convinced I would die starving and bloody because I couldn't begin to find a way to climb out.
   I didn't make the decision to try recovery overnight, I figured why try the docs tell me I'm chronic, that I will never stop. I gave up my hope and became the demon inside, when you spoke to me I could look through you planning my next session with a razor or deciding how I would or wouldn't nourish myself. I was dead inside...the Andrea that exsisted before the anorexia and the cutting wasn't there. I was mean to everyone who tried to save me, I was broken in everyway possible. I never thought I could come back. I met Josh and he immediately saw how bad the situation was and tired to jump in and save me like so many before had done. He found me as broken as anyone could be, I didn't want to live anymore after being raped, my mom dying and living with a guy who was just not good. He tried the way others did at first, forcing me to do things, hiding my meds and razors, and the list goes on. It wasn't long before he realized that I had to save myself, but he made the choice to be there for me, he made it ok for me to not be ok. He never told me I was a bad person or declared I would burn in hell for my sins, he never treated me like a child, and he offered me a level of respect that only one other person has ever given me. There was no quick fix, I had a hole of epic size to crawl out of and that starts first with reaching up.
   Here I am three years into my recovery and I am still climbing, I've fallen and been broken but I stood back up bloodied and bruised and started climbing again. These last few years have been the hardest in my life, I've had to learn to feel without running to a razor or using food and my body to deal. I won't lie my demons are still there, they hide in the fog and every so often they creep back in and try to drag me back. I still crave razorblades sometimes my skin crawls and I think how much I would love to numb out again and then I stop and realize that it has broken through and I am able to tell myself that it won't fix things I will only be letting my past win. I am not that shell anymore. I am a mother to the most amazing baby in the world and that is more important to than anything so I fight.
   I believe that some people will have the gift of being able to say they are completely recovered and that is so amazing but some will fight for their recovery their whole life. I know I'm the latter, I will always battle my demons and I'm okay with that it keeps me on my toes and doesn't let me forget where I came from. The anorexic cutter is still inside me, still clinging to that hope that I will breakdown. I fight my battles everyday and I will be damned if I don't win this war. I do hold strong in my recovery everyday, but I've been to hell and back and I can't forget it, I can't move on and say I'm recovered. For me that is dangerous I have to be constantly aware of myself and my thoughts, I'm just that kind of person.
   The pain I have from my past is still there it hasn't disappeared, but I can deal with it without surrendering. My skin crawls somedays for an edge so bad I have no words and somedays I think about not running my feeds and feeling empty and it is super tempting, but then I look at that beautiful boy and realize the old me who embraced my demons was selfish and once you are a mom there is no room for selfishness. I vowed the day I had him that he would never see his momma with cuts on her or visit me on an ED unit and that is one vow I will never break. He might see me in the hospital because of the gastroparesis, but he will never see the girl I use to be. It is bad enough that he could very well grow up without his mommy, he will remember me as the loving mom who would give her very life for him not some starved, cut up shell of a human being.
   I will battle this for the rest of my life, my arms will tingle for a razor and my mind will scream at me that I'm somehow weak for allowing nourishment, for not weighing eighty pounds and I will fight every lie that breaks through. I am proud of my recovery but not naive its a battle that I could lose if I take my guard down. I saw the way it was going to end three years ago, it is a miracle I survived because I probably shouldn't have. Before I began my climb out of hell I overdosed three times almost succeeding if not for a friend breaking in that wasn't suppose to be there, I needed six stitches to close a cut in my wrist, and I was needing to be kept at the hospital just to make sure they could stablize my nutrition. Recovery is not easy, its messy and you won't be perfect but its worth it. I might not be completely free from my demons but I can now push them back and not give in. The end result of keeping your behaviors is death and trust me I didn't believe that when it first started but once I hit that bottom death was all there was if I couldn't climb out. If I wouldn't have reached up I would be in the ground with my mother today. You cannot live with an ED, it will pull you until there is nothing and no one left but you and your eating disorder and that is a very lonely place. Please don't give up just keep fighting because it is worth it.

Emotion...the good, the bad, and the ugly

   I've found myself more and more emotional lately. I'm watching my son hit so many milestones and I think about how many more he will reach in his preecious life and wonder how many of them I won't be able to see. I've actually found myself missing my anorexia or at least that fog it put over my brain where all I could here was fat,fat,fat, failure,failure,failure, and food, food, food. Now, in recovery that fog has lifted and I can think clearly again and I can face the future with crystal clear reality. The gastroparesis has taken my twenty six year old body and aged it far beyond anything I could have expected. I'm not scared of the surgeries or battling the infections, I will find the strength for my son. I'm most scared of leaving my baby and him having to watch me in pain, covered with tubes hanging out to feed me. I saddens me that my 18month old isn't phased when I am hooked up to my IV fluids or when I carry around my backpack full of tube feed. He still smiles at me and yells for "momma" to come pick him up. He doesn't see me as sick yet he just knows I'm his mommy and I play with him and take care of him. I know someday he will catch onto the fact that I'm not like all the other moms out there. I won't always make it to every game or concert because sometimes I will be in the hospital or too sick to make it and it will break my heart when he tells me he understands because I never wanted him to have to understand this.
   I am angry, I've always had a hard time admitting that fact, always wussed out when it came to standing up for myself or what I believe in. Now I feel like screaming all my thoughts from mountain tops. I want to tell young girls to stop hating their body, I want to tell people that you can overcome an eating disorder and you deserve to live free from it, I won't tell you its easy,but the hard work you put into recovery is worth it. I want to scream at every ignorant doctor that has ever made a stupid comment about gastroparesis and I want to tell all of those sufferring how brave they are and that I understand the courage it takes to get up everyday and hook up to tube feeds or tpn to push through the pain of multiple surgeries and line infections. I'm yelling for the people who have lost their fights to eating disorders and to those who fought their gastroparesis so hard until their body couldn't handle anymore. We deserve a cure and its only going to happen if we keep yelling.
   Everyone use to walk all over me, I held everything in and punished myself for not living up to everyone else's expectations. I starved myself, purged and cut while I was alone so I could keep smiling for everyone else. It took me years of recovery and fighting a chronic illness that is slowly taking my physical abilities, I alread get fed throug a tube and hydrated through an IV to finally stop faking it. If I'm happy or feeling joyous I will tell you and smile if I am sad or angry I can talk about that too I don't need to cut it on my flesh or flush it down the toilet.
   God gave me this little miracle that I was never suppose to get and I've watched him grow over the last eightteen months and I love him so much...he makes me smile, he makes me cry, and my heart belongs to him. What hurts me the most is knowing that at any second, at this simple surgery on Friday God could decide my time is up and I will never see those beautiful blue eyes sparkling at me again or cuddle him on my shoulder. Can I tell you the truth I am angry with God, I still love the Lord but I spend every night pleading with him for another day. I'm selfish...I've had help beating anorexia,self harm and battling my disease but its not enough I want to stay here for my baby. I need him to know who I am before I die...I need him to know how much I loved him and that I would do it again. The docs told us carrying him could make me sicker and it did, he took every last reserve I had and I am so happy I was able to give it to him because he is beautiful and healthy.
   I guess the main idea of this post is emotion...the good, the bad, and the ugly. Its ok to feel, its ok to be you. I spent so many years being everyone but me and now at twenty six looking down a uncertain path I can allow myself to feel. I focus on being a mommy everyday, my baby sees me with central lines and feeding tubes but you know what he still smiles, he isn't scared of me because hospital bed or not I still get to be his mommy. Don't hide your feelings if you want to scream or vent I will listen because we all deserve to have our voices because you never know when it will be too late to use them.

Great topic from a wonderful friend

   I started noticing more problems with pain and nausea after the small amounts of food I allowed myself in 2008, I would get that bloated refeeding belly that I usually got after a long hospital stay except this time I wasn't refeeding but barely taking anything in. My doctor sent me in to have a gastric emptying study done, that is where you eat a small amount of scrambled eggs that have an isotope that shows up under flouroscopy. I sat there for hours waiting for the eggs to empty like they were suppose to and they never did. I was diagnosed with gastroparesis which literally means stomach paralysis. What little I was allowing myself to take in was just sitting and rotting in my stomach...I spent time either in lots of pain or vomitting uncontrollably. To help me get some nutrition in I was placed in the hospital and a feeding tube was put down my nose and into my small intestine to avoid vomitting.
   Now I would be lying to you if I said I wasn't still trapped in my anorexia. I obsessed about every drip of tube feed that made its way in. I knew logically how sick the gastroparesis was making me but my ED voice kept encouraging it, telling me this disease was a blessing now I didn't have to eat. I couldn't see how life threatening and debilitating the disease really was.
   After months of having the tube down my nose and throwing it up a few times I went into see the surgeon who was suppose to place a surgical feeding tube in my jejunum. This particular surgeon told me there was a procedure that could cure my gastroparesis, he would do a partial gastrectomy leaving me with ten percent of my stomach left and ideally it would allow food to empty faster. I reluctantly agreed and when I woke up from surgery I had most of my stomach gone, a drain, and a j tube to help me get my nutrition. The surgery was very painful and I had a number of complications including discovering my intestines were paralyzed partially and had serious malabsorption issues. Even through this torture I was still holding on to my ED, I didn't think I could cope with this disease, the pain, life in general if I didn't have my anorexia to focus on. I couldn't hold down anything and I was in bed crying in pain most of the time.
   It was around this time I was giving up, I was in the ICU for overdosing, I gave up on my tube feeds because they hurt so bad, and everytime I turned around I was in the hospital and headed to the OR. All I felt was pain and even the anorexia couldn't cover it up. It was about this time I met Josh and I was a total mess...I didn't want to be in pain anymore, I wanted to get better but I still had my ED voice telling me food was bad and scary. Josh stood by me and encouraged me to keep fighting, he held me through the pain when I tried to eat, sat with me in the bathroom sick as can be, and he never turned away even when the anorexic voice came out telling him I hated him and I wouldn't let him make me fat and he couldn't control me. Slowly but surely things started to change and let me tell you it was sometimes two steps forward and three steps back but we never gave up. I felt it wasn't just me and my eating disorder against everyone but it was me and josh against my ED.
   My biggest wake up call to recovery happened while I was in the hospital because my intestines were rejecting feeds and I was losing blood. They told me I would have to go on TPN and it was complicated to deal with at home. I had to have a central line to deliever the nutrition to my heart, there are many risks with TPN sepsis from line infections, liver damage and so on. Within a year I had been in the OR ten times and something had to change. I slowly learned to let go of my anorexia and begin fighting my gastroparesis. Focusing on numbers and spending every free second in the mirror judging myself just wasn't the way to survive and fight this disease.
   Don't get me wrong my ED still lives deep inside of me but I know how to fight her. I was even given the miracle of having a baby when it was never suppose to happen. I live everyday with tube feeds, central lines and pain medication to help with the excruciating pain in my intestines. In the end I had to decide what was important...I could have held on to the anorexia and the GP would have destroyed me that much faster or I could really work recovery and fight this disease to which there is no cure. I made the choice to fight. Somedays are really hard even three years later but I look at my son and Josh and its worth it. There are no promises but I trust in God and I won't give up. I get scared esp on really bad pain days I cry and hope I can make it through. The pain subsides and I get up to see a smiling baby. Being sick is tough but at least I'm not alone. During my eating disorder I was alone even when I was surrounded by people I was trapped in my own head. I made the decision three years ago to fight and not stand idly by and let it all overtake me.
   I am not ashamed of my past and I write this blog to help others through my experiences. I will answer questions honestly and not shy away from the tough stuff so feel free to send me suggestions for blogs or questions.

Recovery versus Recovered

   I know I am going to catch some hate for this post and that is ok because its my blog and my opinion. As someone who spent most of her teens and early twentys trapped in an eating disorder thinking there was no way out I can only tell you from my story. I spent years in hosptial beds and treatment centers being force fed through a tube in my nose, I couldn't see the dying young woman that everyone else could. I hit rock bottom, I tried to take my life which left me in the intensive care unit, I felt like I couldn't make that monster in my head shut up. All I could hear was how I wasn't good enough, thin enough, perfect enough, I was a failure. When I looked in the mirror I just couldn't see the sick person looking back at me.com I fought everyone trying to help and pushed everyone away.
   My recovery began slow, it wasn't some magnificent realization and I turned it all around in a day. It was a slow and rocky climb that often found me back two steps. I hated food, I was disgusted with every bite, every can of tube feed that went inside my j tube, but I learned very slowly to tolerate it. There were times my skin crawled while my brain told me I deserved punishment...I had to purge or cut and everyday I didn't I got a little stronger. I had to learn to trust people, Josh in my case, I trusted him not to put my scary foods infront of me, I trusted him to hold me when I wanted to escape my own skin, and his love helped me fight. He didn't fix me, but he stuck by me so I could work on myself which so many people hadn't been able to do. I understand why I lost so many friends, its frustrating and painful to watch people you care about in such pain and causing so much pain. I was not an easy person to be around in the depths of my anorexia...Andrea disappeared and was replaced with this disease, this desperate need to keep nutrition out of me, I needed to be empty, I needed the control, I couldn't feel all the pain that my anorexia and self harm was protecting me from.
   Its been three years since I've ventured down my road to recovery. I hear people say I'm recovered and to be honest I'm not and I believe I never will be. I believe I can stay in a lasting recovery but not recovered. The anorexia still lives deep inside of me and I can admit often makes its way to the surface, I know have the strength to push it back down. I will always battle my demons. I would be lying if I said I didn't thing about restricting or cutting because I do. I'm not ashamed of that at all because I don't give in. My eating disorder will always be apart of me and to be honest I'm okay with that because it has shown me I am so much stronger and can face more than I ever thought I could.
   I know some people believe that it is possible to be completely recovered and maybe for them its true but I don't want others to get discouraged if you still have to fight that ED voice back down from time to time. You should be proud everyday you stand up to it and eat something, anything. Trust me I started with safe foods before venturing out. It all takes time, I want so much more for others sufferring, I want to save you from destroying your body like me. I'm left with a stomach and intestines that don't work, we face surgeries all the time and eventually transplant. Through all this I don't feel sorry for me I simply want my story to help others even just one person.
   I don't believe I will ever be totally recovered, to be honest I find the word damning, setting me up to fail. I work my recovery every day...I make the decision everyday to hook up to my feeds and hydration. Complacency leaves room for relapse. I work my recovery daily...I would be a liar if I told you ED doesn't find a way to the forefront of my mind sometimes. Somedays my skin crawls for the relief it use to feel when I cut. I know some people believe that you can become completely recovered, no more obsessing about ED, no more thinking about the numbers or anything like that. I strongly disagree. The moment you stop focusing on your recovery you leave room for relapse. Anorexia hides in the depths of your brain and you can go for a long time and not think about it and then bam its at the forefront of your mind. I respect my recovery and I know how easy it would be to lose it. My recovery has been one of the hardest things I've done one step forward and two steps back.
   I encourage you to keep focusing on your recovery, don't convince yourself its gone because its a monster that creeps in before you know what is going on. I'm twenty six years old with a j tube in my intestine to be fed and a central line to keep me hydrated and even with all of this I sometimes look in the mirror and thos thoughts come back. I am able to push it back because I know the consequences...my son is my everything. Maybe its possible to be fully recovered but in my experience its not something I can accept. I focus on my recovery everyday. I've learned to feel pain without turning to restricting or cutting but I keep my guard up.
   I'm sorry if I've offended someone but its my opinion that recovery is a life long battle, you're not just all of a sudden fine, you forget about the behaviors that protected you for so long. Everyday I stop and think about how far I've come and know that I have so much farther to go. Please don't stop fighting...its a slow, uphill battle but you can win, you aren't alone. I will talk to anyone who needs support. I want so badly to help people through the recovery process and its a process, a process that takes time, in my opinion a lifetime. You learn something new all the time in recovery and its truly amazing what you can learn about life and yourself, you can learn to value you and now the numbers on a scale or what size clothes you wear. There will be tough days but you will learn your strength to get through them and its beautiful. Don't give up.

   I spent so many years trying to disappear into my eating disorder, I didn't care about the consequences or that it was killing me. I spent my nights slicing my arms open to try and release all the hurt inside and in the end I'm just left with scars. Now here I am at twenty six facing down my mortality. The docs can't do much else, they manage my pain and try to keep me going with IV hydration and tube feeds. They have said that by thirty what's left of my intestines will be shot and I have a heck of a time keeping my lines from getting infected. I never planned it this way, I planneed to get my degree, get married, and have babies. The Lord blessed me with a miracle child. They told me he would weaken me and he did, but seeing that beautiful boy was worth everything to me and I wouldn't change it for the world.
   So many years I spent I spent obsessing about numbers and perfection, a perfection I could never attain. I use to think if I could reach that perfect number then all the punishment would stop, but no matter how low the number got I couldn't stop the punishment.  It took so many years for me to find recovery and convince myself that I didn't have to punish myself anymore. Even now though I still find myself punishing myself. I don't starve, purge or cut but I know that my anorexia contributed to everything going on now.
   I have a beautiful baby boy and I spend so many nights trying to make deals with God just to give me more time to watch him grow. I want him to know his mommy, to remember how much I loved him. I know there is no promise of tomorrow but it breaks my heart to think of leaving my son.
   I read about girls trying to develope an eating disorder and it makes me sick. Its not a lifestyle it is hell and it takes everything away from you. You lose family and friends because when you are in your ED there is only room for the two of you. You aren't alive just simply existing. It gets its claws into you and you can't escape. Years of my life all I can remember is the numbers, hospitals, feeding tubes, IVs, and so much more. I wish I could save everyone before the diseases takes over and ruins your body and life.
   Everyday is uncertain for me, I kiss my son and watch him sleep wondering if I will see him walk into his first day of school or do so many other amazing things. Uncertainty is an awful feeling. Every trip to the OR I pray I will wake up to see my son again. Looking back I wish I could have accepted help before it got so far. I write all this personal stuff because I want to make a difference to maybe one person. I don't want more young people facing down death. Tell someone, anyone because no one deserves this type of punishment.

Scared

   I know it has been awhile since I've updated, been battling a blood infection and next Friday I will go to the OR for the fourth time. My doctor who has taken care of me for the last few years has decided since my surgeon is at a different hospital then I should see and internist at that hospital. We have called countless docs and none will take someone in my condition. I am kept alive through central lines and fluids with potassium and tube feed through my j tube. The only reason I have any quality of life is the pain medication that numbs the unbearable pain I feel everyday and now I have no doctor to write my orders for my food and fluid. I don't admit this too often but I'm scared, terrified would be the best word to describe this situation. Without my central line I can't stay hydrated and without my tube feed I can't stay nourished.
   I feel so scared and so alone, I have friends who understand but family takes everything so lightly because they can't understand, they don't feel this everyday. This disease causes so much pain somedays I feel like I can't breathe and through all of it I smile and be a mommy to my son and my biggest fear is he will never know how much I loved him, how I would have given anything to make him happy. I hate myself for falling into anorexia and bulimia for kicking this disease into overdrive. I put the people I care about through so much and I hate myself for it.  I feel like the doctor I trusted abandoned me and I'm like a leper to the rest of them because I can't be treated easily with cold medicine and a flu shot.
   I believe in God and I believe he puts us through things for a reason, but at the same time I'm angry because at this rate I won't see thirty, I won't see my miracle grow up and go to his first day of school. I have this body that is barely holding on but my spirit is fighting so hard. Its not fair to josh to have to spend his days off taking care of me and keeping me comfortable.
   I've notice those thought breaking their way to the forefront of my mind...I found those old anorexic thought trying to overcome me in my weakness, reminding me how much better it was when my life was revolving around calories and restricting, how I wouldn't have to think about all of this pain and fear anymore, and I listened for about three seconds before I put it out of my head. I have no room for anorexia in my life right now or cutting.  Back during my ED I didn't fear death, I almost embraced it because I had nothing to live for and now I have everything to live for and a body that is running out of fight. Somedays it hurts so bad to move let alone get my housework done, I play with my beautiful miracle baby and sometimes picking him up causes pain, pain that is worth it.
   I read on some boards how people, young girls are fighting for eating disorders and it makes me so sad. I don't know if its the media or what glamorizing this illness but its awful. They don't talk about your hair falling out, the hair that grows on your starving body, being force fed with a tube down their nose, or the fact that it could kill just months after your start. I lost college, great friends, and my health to years of my ED. Now here I am at 26 in a dying body so scared I can't even put it into words. I am a devoted Catholic and I pray to the Lord day and night, but I'm still so scared, scared of what's next and even more scared of leaving the one thing I've ever done right in this world. I've disappointed so many people and I know that but Damien is my miracle, he saved me, brought me back from my nothingness and now to think he will never know how much I loved him, remember all the things we did together. Being a mommy has been my purpose and I know God gave me that gift.
   I know this blog post isn't my usual, but I'm being completely raw here. I've never been goo about admitted my fears but I am terrified. If I can't find a doc willing to take on very sick patients I'm not going to make it and I want to be strong and unwaivering but ill admit it...I'm terrified.

   Its been awhile...July 4th was my three year recovery date...I haven't cut, purged, or restricted since that date three years ago left me hooked up to ivs with six stitches in my arm. I wish I could say that something magical happens after you've been in recovery as long as I have but it doesn't. There are days when that ED voice makes its way to the forefront of your mind and you have to fight it, you have to stand up and tell yourself that you are stronger than the lies and you have more to live for than to go back to being trapped in anorexia and bulimia again.
   Some days I think about how it was before, always focusing on the food never dealing with real life. Now I think about real life...I havd a disease that is going to kill me without an eventual transplant and I am a full time mommy and being a mommy is the absolute number one priority no matter how sick I am some days I get up and I smile and care for him. I'm terrified of the future, terrified of what is going to happen. I feel like we face so many uncertaincies everyday as a family and with another surgery looming next week I've been fighting those old voices. People praise me for three years of recovery and I'm thankful for that, but I can tell you my recovery didn't happen in a doctor's office or treatment center...spent many months in hospitals only to resist their help. I clawed my way back to the surface...I threw the medicines I was constantly overdosing on, I took every sharp out of my house, I cried, I tube fed, I fought josh many days trying to find a razor or purge even a drink of water. My recover wasn't overnight and I promise I believe even now I'm still learning. I'm learning that the reflection in the mirror doesn't define me neither does a clothing size or a number on a scale and trust me she still screams some days but I know I can't afford to listen. Because of anorexia I will probably not live to see my son graduate or I will watch from a wheelchair or hospital bed. I am fed through a tube in my small intestine that is barely absorbing anymore so I have to have a needle in my chest five days a week risking a deadly blood infection to get my extra fluids and potassium...were the years of anorexia worth a shorten life full of pain that leaves me curled up in bed for hours. I live everyday in pain and I'm not complaining because maybe my pain will save someone else. The hardest part is knowing that my son, my heart may never know me. There is no magical cure for anorexia but I promise you can claw and fight your way out so don't give up...you can do it without treatment...not a treatment center around would help me because of my insurance and I was too medically compromised with the gastroparesis. You have to fight the monster and u can win.

Update

   So, it has been awhile and I honestly don't have anything profound to say. I went into surgery last Tuesday for a port placement and I woke up and went home. Most people don't find any of that astounding but everytime I go under anesthesia I feel blessed when my eyes open again and I get to see my beautiful baby boy again. I live everyday in a weakened body and I know that seeing the sun rise is never a promise and everytime they put me under for surgery I know the risks on my malnurished body. Everyday I wake up I feel more and more blessed to have my son and family around. I am very weak most of the time and I rest a lot but I'm still a full time devoted mommy and that is what matters. I've learned through this disease not to take anything for granted because you never know what the next minute will bring.
   I use to think that asking for help made me somehow weaker than everyone else. Even when I was trapped in my anorexia I knew I needed help out of the darkness but I just couldn't bring myself to tell anyone. So many people wanted to help me and I wanted their help but I just couldn't accept it, I couldn't accept there was anything wrong with me. Even laying in a hospital bed hooked up to a feeding tube, ivs, and heart monitors I kept insisting they were wrong and I had everything under control. Its taken me this long to let go of the idea...control is an illusion and my actions throughout those years expressed everything but being in control. I can admit I still have trouble asking for help but I'm getting better, I can ask my parents for help with damien when I'm too sick to play with him or having to ask josh for help getting our new place set up. I've always wanted to be the one in charge and now I can't do everything I want to do and its difficult but now I know there are more important things like being here to watch my son grow up and raising awareness for those with eating disorders and gastroparesis.
   Today is just a short post...I'm recovering from my central line placement slowly but surely. Its difficult not being able to pick up damien but that will pass soon enough. I promise I will have a more interesting entry tomorrow for now I'm just going to rest.

Couldn't See

   When I was lost in my eating disorder I couldn't see the sick girl in the mirror that everyone told me I was. I continually saw fat, ugly, and unworthy instead of what was really there, a girl starving herself to death unable tell anyone what was going on, unable to get that monster screaming in my head to shut up. Today when I looked in the mirror I could see what everyone else saw then, this time it is because of a disease that I can't cure and I can't stop and was most likely made so severe because of years of anorexia and bulimia.
   I haven't been able to take in fluids or tube feeds in days, I haven't been able to take care of my baby without help from josh and my parents which I am lucky to have, and unlike those days during my ED I am scared. I didn't know how sick I was years ago, I was looking at a mirror through blinders. Today when I looked in as I was mixing my meds and flushing my tube I saw the dark circles under my eyes, the dried out lips, and pale. I'm having surgery on Tuesday for a port to be placed again for fluids and most likely partial TPN, which means living everyday hoping to avoid a life threatening line infection or the liver damage that IV nutrition causes. I'm terrified of leaving my baby without a mother, terrified that he will never know me or know how much I loved him and how much he changed me for the better. I'm more scared than I have ever been, terrified to shut my eyes because I won't wake up to my beautiful blue eyed baby calling me.
   I wish I could go back to that girl who couldn't see what was there, who couldn't see that she had a future, who couldn't see there was more to her than that eating disordered cutter, and who never guessed at twenty six would be terrified to shut her eyes at night. I wish I could save her from this, but I can't the only thing I can do is raise awareness for others so they don't have to face this and raise awareness for everyone who suffers from gastroparesis or digestive tract paralysis who suffer with it and never did anything to deserve it, who give their lives at young ages because there is no cure and the body can only take so much...nothing gets done unless people come together and speak out. I'm tired of losing people to these diseases, I'm tired of being sick all the time, and I'm tired of being scared. I know life isn't a promise, there are those who die young who have seemingly done everything right with their bodies and still they give out, but eating disorders are treatable with the proper treatment and gastroparesis/DTP can be cured with us pushing for new medicines and new treatments. I don't want my life to be a waste and I don't want to have gone through everything for nothing. I didn't make the choice to become anorexic, but I do believe if insurance would have paid for proper treatment when I was young I might have been able to recover before destroying my body, by the time I could shut the monster out it was too late and the damage was done. I have a medical file that lists over 85 procedures and surgeries, countless weeks in hospital beds, declaring me chronic...they labeled me a chronic anorexic at one point but I managed to prove them wrong. I can't deny the other diagnosis, as of now the only long term possibility is a five organ transplant which comes with a whole mess of complications and no promises. To anyone who reads this please pay attention...eating disorders are not a choice and GP/DTP are real, life threatening diseases to which there is no cure. If you know someone who is suffering from either or even both help raise awareness and if you are suffering know you aren't alone and your life is precious.

My day

   I wanted to share how my day goes...I wake up to my lil man either crying or laughing between six and seven, sometimes he let's mommy doze until eight while he plays in his crib. We get up and I make him a yummy breakfast followed by hardcore playtime and then by ten my early bird needs nappy number one. While he does his usual quiet play before he falls asleep. As he is in there I fill up my backpack with my feeds and take a dose of pain meds to cut the horrible pain that is about to make me cry and throw up . The pain will be so bad that during nap I will cry and curl up on the bed until my beautiful lil boy wakes up then I go to the bathroom and wash my face and despite the pain I smile at him and we play because through all my pain I do my best to hide it from damien. He has no idea that I spend a lot of his quiet times crying or lurching over the toilet in the bathroom. All he knows is I'm his mommy, the one who takes care of him when he is sick, makes him smile when he is sad, and devotes every aspect of my being into making him a great young man and hopefully a wonderful gentleman when he grows up. I sometimes let those thoughts breakthrough my headt that its not fair I'm sick and so on and so on but dwelling on that takes away the beautiful moments I have with my miraculous son.
    I have fought too hard to let this disease take away the only things that make me happy...my son and my family. I almost lost everything once to my anorexia, no one wanted to be around me hell I didn't want to be around me. Today I feel like a completely different person gastroparesis and intestinal failure aside recovery from my eating disorder changed me. I think the battle with my anorexia, bulimia, and cutting made me stronger which has come in handy a lot lately. I think years of battling with myself I'm now strong enough to battle whatever is thrown at me. On the days where pain is so bad I want to run away I can mommy up and face it...I will face anything that is thrown because I have to be here to make that blue eyed boy smile everyday.

Consequences

   So many young girls are out there striving to be anorexic, they look at pictures and thinspiration sites on the internet and they think they can make themselves anorexic. I've even done research on youtube and on very sick posts there are comments like "I wish I had your control", "If only I could be that thin", and "you are so hardcore" (referring to seeing people with feeding tubes). It makes me angry and it makes me sad because they don't know what kind of hell they are striving for.
   My anorexia started at fifteen officially diagnosed my senior year, the year that was suppose to be and exciting was doctors appointments, dieticians, constantly being watched around food even at school they watched me all the time making sure I didn't restrict too much, trying to keep me from purging and looking at me wondering if I was hiding cuts. Don't get me wrong I did have fun but I was a very sick girl. I managed to get a scholarship to college for music and thought things were great until my therapist informed me I wouldn't be attending school because I needed to be put in the hospital. On my 19th birthday I was admitted to a residential treatment center where you are constantly watched and following a strict meal plan...you have to have staff in the bathroom while you pee or poop...there was no privacy. I was there for three months and they finally had to let me go because of insurance not much better. The weight I gained came back off and I was worse than ever. My parents sent me to college close by and by November I was being seen by the eating disorder specialist at the hosptial which was connected with the school within a month he admitted me to the hospital and ordered a feeding tube to get some nutrition in me...they passed a tube down my nose past my stomach into my small intestine so there was no purging...and the process of placing the tube was uncomfortable to say the least. I spent the next three years in and out of the hospital being force fed and brought back to life with three stays on a strict eating disorder unit where, once again you are treated with no privacy.
   All those years were suppose to be the time of my life, going to college enjoying my teen and young adult years and I was trapped in my anorexic mind and never enjoyed anything. The semester I made it in college I did fine grade wise despite spending most of my time running on treadmills at student rec center. All of this because I thought not eating and being thin would make the pain go away, pains from a rough childhood...if I could just focus on the food and the numbers I wouldn't have to remember my alcoholic mom and the venom she spewed at me or the bruises she left. Anorexia and bulimia are diseases you can't try to have one...they are mental illnesses that have the highest mortality rate of anyother mental illness.
   It took me years and three overdoses to finally decide I wanted recovery. Unfortunately this disease that so many people crave had destroyed my stomach...I developed a condition known as gastroparesis which paralyzed my stomach. A surgeon removed 90% of my stomach and put in a surgical j tube to feed me. The condition worsened which caused more surgeries unbelievable pain, they eventually put a central line in and fed me through my veins until I was blessed to get pregnant with damien which we were told we would die but I thank the Lord everyday we made it. As I write this to you I am 26 years old my intestines are failing, I already have a tube in my small intestine feeding me as much as my body will take, I'm scheduled to have another surgery to have a port placed so I can have iv hydration and nutrition at home, I'm on daily doses of narcotics just to tolerate the unbearable pain I feel in my guts all the time, and ontop of that they took away my ability to have anymore babies because my body would die if I got pregnant again. Eventually, I will need a transplant to save my life. Are you jealous of me and my. Anorexia yet? I've been in recovery for almost three years and it sickens me to see so many people trying to be anorexic...that's all those "thinspo" sites are aimed at...young kids who think that anorexia is a cool game to play when its not. Two beautiful young women have lost their lives just this week to the monster. A lot of us are left to live on tubes forever because we've killed our stomachs. Do you think its fashionable to carry around a backpack everywhere with a tube hanging out of it feeding into your body?
   Anorexia and bulimia aren't games and if you are bogged down in the diseases get help before its too late because you are beautiful and the number on the scale has nothing to do with your beauty or your worth. Fight for recovery...its hard, trust me I know but you are worth it. You deserve a life free from numbers and hospital admissions. I was declared chronic, my anorexia was suppose to kill med but I killed that monster in my head or at least can control it because trust me it tries to break in but I know how to fight it. So many people tried to help an amazing doc never gave up on me and here I am recovered and yet dying inside from intestinal/gut failure. I want you to understand that this is a serious disease that will ruin your life and could kill you please keep fighting. And, if you don't have and eating disorder and your body image has you seeking out ways to develop one I suggest you talk to someone because anorexia and bulimia are not lifestyle choices they are deadly diseases. Please don't hurt yourself like I did I'm sitting here hooked up to a backpack full of "food" that goes in and causes terrible pain and barely absorbes...I depend on a tube to live...you deserve better than that. Sometimes recovery comes too late...so think about it before you click on another pro anorexia bulimia site or wish you could be sick like the girls on youtube.

My fears

   I am a devoted Catholic, many people don't know the role religion plays in my life. I pray every night to God and thank Him for another day with my family. I have faith that there is a heaven and faith in my religion, but I have fear. I have this weakened body and I face more surgeries and I've discovered myself fearing everything more and more. I am terrified of dying, terrified of what its going to be like and terrified of leaving my baby behind. I pray so hard that I will see my son grow up. Its hard for me to admit my fear since I spent most of my life cutting, starving and purging most people tell me I did this to myself and they are partially right...the anorexia made a condition I already had get much much worse. I spent years praying for death, overdosing three times just wanting the pain to end...I can't imagine being that girl again. I honestly don't even see that same empty reflection when I look in the mirror. Years ago life was so painful and I didn't think I was strong enough to beat it...I was raped, my mom died, my family didn't know how to help and I felt alone.
   During this time I thought there was no way out except to end my life and someone must have been watching over me because I got through three very close attempts. I'm sure you are thingking right now "attention seeker" but I promise you it wasn't I thought I could fix everything and make everyone happy if I were gone. I know now how wrong I was and how many people I would have hurt because even when loved ones don't seem to show their love doesn't mean they don't love you they just don't always know how to express their feelings. My family has their problems but they are my family and they love me.
   I know what its like to hit rock bottom and its a hell of a climb back out but it is possible. I've been in recovery for almost three years and somedays it feels like its way longer others way shorter. But everyone deserve recovery and I found it too late and now I'm terrified. Its hard for me to admit that...I try so hard to stay positive and smile but I'm terrified. I'm scared I'm going to die and leave behind my baby and josh, I'm scared of what will happen when I day...I will always be honest I believe in God and have faith but everyone has their nerves because they don't know what it going to happen. I've been a control freak for my whole life and that's one thing I can't control and it scares the crap out of me. I watched them put my mom in the ground and I remember wanting to climb down there with her even after years of fighting because of her alcoholism they were putting my mommy in the ground and I needed her at that moment and she was gone. I've started writing a book to damien explaining things and telling him our stories just incase I can't be here for everything. I'm 26yrs old and I'm suppose to have a longer life but ?y anorexia led me to this...I feel like I'm 88 sometimes. I've had to accept my limitations and put full trust in doctors to help me and I have a doc that is determined to help me be here as long as possible, but I'm so scared.
   I know this seems like a rambling blog post but maybe it is but if you know me you know I don't usual admit my fears and at 26 I'm not ready to give up and I won't. I am a fighter and I'm strong and I'm scared. I'm even ashamed of the years I spent bogged down in my ED refusing to reach out ans accept the help that was offered. I had a great doctor who did everything he could for me and I fought him the whole way because I was so afraid to feel, so afraid that people would see I have feelings or even cry...I was terrified of speaking up because people might think badly of me or I might be embarrassed looking at that now I realize that it was trivial...worrying about what everyone thought of me...if they loved me and were my friends they would love me through it all and like I said previously very few will stick it out through the long haul with you.
   For those of you that have stuck with me through this post if you are struggling reach out for help because I promise you its there and nomatter what lies are going through your head you deserve to be happy, you deserve a life that doesn't revolve around calories and weight...you can handle your feelings without starving or purging or cutting. I don't want anyone to be in the same spot as me 26yrs old and terrified your going to die before you get to watch your baby grow up enough to eben know you were his mommy. Whatever you do don't give up the fight. Because all you can do is keep fighting and you can get through...we are survivors not victims.

Lost and learned

   I spent most of my adolesent and young adult years trapped in my eating disorder, my life revolved around what I did and didn't eat, where I could purge, and hiding the cuts on my arms, legs, and stomach. I was basically a shell of a person unable to think about anything besides was food and how little I needed it. Because of my ED I've lost a lot...my health is gone, I get my nutrition through a j tube and central lines, and it really sucks to be free from that voice screaming in my head that I can't eat things I loved and now I physically can't tolerate them. Most people would think that losing my health was the worst part of my anorexia but it wasn't.
   I was raised to be honest, my mom instilled in me that lying was one of the most horrible things anyone could do. I was one of those kids that if they did something they weren't suppose to and lied about it ended up telling on themselves. Once my ED began it became easier and easier to lie. I would do or say anything to protect my eating disorder...hide food, give it to the dog, purge outside, steal laxatives, pretty much anything you can think of I did it. In the hospital they would but my tube feeds in a huge, clear lock box so I couldn't tamper with the pump. I was like a completely different person. I put my family through hell and after years of lying to them its taken time to build the trust back up especially since the gasroparesis makes it to where I can't eat and if I do it usually ends with me throwing up...it is only natural it has taken them time to believe that I really am in recovery I simply can't eat anymore rather than I won't. The lying during those years tore me up and I wasn't trying to hurt anyone I simply couldn't stop...I didn't think I could live without my ED, I didn't think I could learn to deal with the past or new feelings without my ED. I needed the protection that anorexia gave me and I became desperate to protect the monster, and I hate that I turned into a liar during my quest for protection.
   Losing people's trust was awful but losing the actual people was even worse. I made some incredible friends in my life and now I only have a handful left. They tried to help me, sometimes making me feel like a project and when I didn't get better they couldn't be my friends anymore. I had some great times with them and I hate that the monster scared them away...they were young and didn't need to take on the responsibility of someone trapped in a nightmare. Only a few people still speak to me and only two or three have really stuck with me, one of which took me in not as a project but treated me as family and was there through every cut and every relapse and every tragedy...I consider him a brother and I will always be grateful for the countless hours he spent on the phone talking to me and never giving up even when the monster pushed him away. My best friends from high school even at such a young age have stuck with me, coming to see me in treatment even driving me three hours to treatment. I am so blessed to have them in my life still but I feel a loss for those friends that tried so hard to help and I pushed them away. They were good people and the monster made them regret helping me or even meeting me, it made me a burden rather than a friend. Friendship runs both ways and I was too stuck in my head to be a decent friend back to them though I tried. Its hard to lose people and its even harder to feel alone and looking back that was the goal of my ED if I was alone no one could take away my control, my protection, and most of all no one could hurt me. I ended up in a lot of bad situations before meeting Josh and before climbing that mountain to recovery and I'm not proud of them but I'm also not ashamed either because I learned a lot and my mistakes can help others and that's what is important to me.
   Eating disorders take so much away from a person and not only hurts the person sufferring but also the people that care about them. I've learned a lot through my struggles and I've made some amazing friends who have fought the same monster and won and some who continue the fight without giving up even when they fall. I was taught the true meaning of compassion by friends and a doctor that devoted himself to me and others like me fighting head to head with the monster that was trying to kill us and he never gave up through the midnight pages, spending hours in hospital rooms trying to help us change our paradigm, and constantly saving us from ourselves. I know what it means to truly love someone as family even when they lack your blood. I've learned that I have the ability to fight and survive...I found my voice when I found recovery. I've learned a lot and I've lost a lot because of my eating disorder. I feel like this all happened to me for a reason and instead of mourning for what I lost I'm using my experience to help others so they might avoid any pain. I regret the friendships I've lost and the pain I've caused others but I do not regret the strength I found in myself to beat this monster, a strength and a will to live I now use fighting the gastroparesis and intestinal failure that threaten my life today. I will never give up and I will never shut up...I hope that through my ramblings I can help just one person avoid pain or find the strength inside of them to fight for recovery.

Just an update promise something better tomorrow

   This is totally a me post, really no major topic just how things are going. Went to the doctor yesterday and we decided it was time to place another central line now we, and by we I mean the doc and surgeons whether to put in a portacath or a hickman since its going to be for fluids for now until we have to switch to TPN. My orthostatic vitals were awful and I was so scared I was getting admitted but my doc let me go since there aren't any veins to access anyway until I have a line. She added another med for pain and spent quite a bit of time talking to me she says I'm her most complicated patient and she is trying to find new ways to help me because my intestines are failing faster than we expected. Sometimes it can get pretty overwhelming but I try to just focus on Damien and making him as happy as he can be.
   Been having a hard time helping my family understand this. My stepmom is really trying and close to understanding how serious this disease is but my dad I just can't get it through his head. I think he still associates everything with my anorexia and I need to "just" eat. I'm getting weaker and weaker and so much falls on Josh and I feel so bad about it. He has to deal with my moodiness and I hate that. I can't help it I just get so frustrated between the pain and throwing up and my limitations I get snappy and he is the one around...you are always harder on the people you love. He tries so hard to make me smile but I just get so upset about not being able to do everything I want to do. I want to be super mommy and have a super clean house, do crafts with damien and run playdates and I can't. I can play with him and make him smile...I clean during his meals and I do everything in my power to be a great mommy but I still have to rest a lot and he still sees me with tubes hanging out of me and visits me in the hospital...I just want to keep him the amazingly happy baby he is. I'm so scared I will die before he will remember me, to be honest I'm terrified to die. I have started writing a book just for him with our stories, our memories and my advice just incase I'm not around as long as I pray to be. Like I've said I will fight and fight until there is no fight left because I'm not leaving my family.
   Back to my biggest frustration...how to make my family understand how sick I am. I always get the anorexia brought up and I keep explaining I'm in recovery this is totally different.  I don't like to be told to "try harder" either because I'm trying the absolute best I can...I push through a lot of pain to be a good mom to my boy and I smile and try to hide it for my family because I don't want them to be scared. I know they will understand eventually but I don't want to feel like crap all the time. Sometimes they unintentionally make me feel like I'm nothing and no one has the right to do that. Like I said this was just an Andrea post nothing too important or overly interesting.

Fight

   I'm not entirely sure if anyone reads this but todays post is going to be about the times you want to give up. Things have been rough right now, we moved into a new place and Josh hasn't been able to find work yet despite going out all the time busting his butt in town constantly being judged by his past which really makes me angry...I don't understand judgemental people...how can you make a decision about someone without knowing their story or walking in their shoes? Ontop of all that Damien has been pretty sick which breaks my heart. If that were everything going on right now I would feel discouraged but I got an email from my doc today that informed me from a medical standpoint there isn't much left to do to help my intestine motility which means that I'm looking at going back on IV nutrition which to those of you who don't know is where a surgeon places a central line into your heart and they give you all your nourishment through that iv and its incredibly dangerous due to the blood infections that can be caused with the line and the fact that tpn while it nourishes you it damages your liver generally leading to transplantation. All of this has me feeling pretty torn down.
   Somedays I want to give up the fight, I want to do something that can make everything to just numb away. In the old days I would have locked myself away in my head and been bleeding and starving away all of these bad feelings and stresses. Days like today make me want to throw my hands up but then I look at Damien and I realize the fight has to keep going and giving up is NEVER going to be an option. No matter how bad my health gets I will psu through it and I won't turn back to the old me. I am a mommy and I believe in mommying up...three years ago I would have been locked away in my head and my bedroom and a few weeks after that admitted to the hospital to be force fed...no more. I go to the hospital when I have to and leave as soon as they get me well enough to come home. I have a fialing body but my spirit is strong. Life seems impossible sometimes...there is never enough time, money, or anything else but you have to make it work. I won't stop fighting...I can't stop fighting. I got one miracle and his name is Damien and I will watch him grow up and I will do it however I have to...hooked up to tubes, transplanted, you name it I will fight through it all for my baby. My anorexia took so much from me and I will be damned if it takes anything else. I woke up screaming last night that I had another baby...a little girl like I wanted to try for before surgery and she died and Damien walked in as I started to fade. I'm blessed for what I have...we don't have a lot of money and I don't have a strong body but I have a baby that depends on me and runs to me when he is hurt or sick...he is my world and I promised him mommy would always be here and I refuse to stop the fight and break that promise no matter how hard it gets I'm his mommy first and foremost.

Other side of fence

   Damien has been sick the last couple of days and I feel so helpless. He looks up at me with flushed cheeks and tears rolling down his face and all I can do is hold him and sing to him. I've found myself crying a lot because this is the first time in his little life he has been this sick with high fevers and crying for me even when he spent Christmas throwing up everywhere he would still play a little bit more than he is now. My parents, along with everyone else keeps telling me its a virus and all kids get sick and I'm doing everything right but I feel helpless!
   These couple days have given me a glimpse of what my parent's went through when I was in my eating disorder and what they still go through everytime they see me hooked up to my tube feeds or hear about another surgery. During my anorexia I didn't think my parents gave a crap and just wanted to be left alone...I would scream that I had everything undercontrol and for them to go away. They drug me to doctor's, sat me at the table to eat, yelled at me, left me alone, and every other idea the helpsites gave them and nothing worked. They watched as I shrunk more and more, they watched their daughter disappear physically and emotionally. They forced me into treatment and I played the system and came out worse than when I went in. They left me at college hoping it might spark something in me and by the end of semester were visiting me on the adolescent unit of the hospital where I was being tube fed and kept on iv fluids and a heart monitor. For years they never knew if I was going to make it or if they would bury their daughter. They must have felt a lot like I do right now but their terror went on for years and still goes on.
   During my anorexia I couldn't see the toll my disease took on my family and friends. I loved them all so much and I thought by pushing them away I was protecting them. I spent so many years thinking I found recovery only to lose it. I am only now able to put myself in their shoes...everyone watched as I starved, purged, and cut myself up uncontrollably and all they could do was sit back and wait like I am with Damien, I can hold him and give him tylenol but he will beat this virus when his body has enough to do it. Its breaking my heart...I'm in his room every two seconds wanting to hold him until he is ready to go sliding at the park. As a parent you will do anything to take your child's pain away and I found out that doesn't change whether the kid is two days old or 26 years old. I'm seeing more from their side right now and I can understand more of why they have done what they've done in the past...they were trying to save me pain like I'm trying to do with my lil guy. I guess sometimes its just surreal to see it from the other side.

bad day

   I try my best to face everyday no matter how much pain it brings or stress with a smile and a determination to fight through it, but somedays its easier than others. I spent the morning organizing our new place some more and chasing my beautiful little boy around while he tried to "help" mommy and daddy get things done adn then layed down for a nap while lil man did and woke up crying in pain. Josh was there the whole time holding me and making sure I got more pain meds down my tube and helped me through the roughest part of it. Then, I get one of those e mails letting me know that I need to go see my doctor soon for more blood work and to discuss more medical crap as usual. I got my appointment set up and then went to go schedule my transportation where they told me they wouldn't do it without an exception letter from the doc because she was something like five miles out of their coverage range. I try to keep my cool usually but today I straight up lost it...the reason we moved close to my family is for help given how sick I am and the reason I still see the doctor in Columbia is because she has been taking care of me for years and frankly all the other docs have told us they didn't feel qualified to handle someone dealing with failing intestines and averaging a hundred mls of pain meds a day to keep functioning and constantly battling with insurance to get new tube feeds and medications approved. Needless to say we got it figured out this trip and by the next visit we will have the letter on file but it was just all too much for me today.
   I fight so hard to stay strong, I want to look like I'm handling everything in stride, I don't want to scare josh or the rest of my family so I try to keep in good spirits and keep fighting. I figure I fought my way out of my anorexia I can fight through this. I want so badly to be a good mommy to my son, a good partner to Josh, a good daughter to my parents, and a good friend and sister to others. I want to be able to chase Damien around the park for hours at a time without needing a rest, I want to be able to keep a spotless house, and it bothers me and humbles me that I can't and often need to ask for help. I get discouraged when days like these happen, I get embarrassed when I  breakdown and cry in the middle of my parent's living room. I want so badly for everything to be okay not for me, but for them. I don't feel sorry for myself because there are plenty of people that face the same things I do everyday and I'd rather me be sick than someone else. I have a lot of fight in me and I will fight and keep fighting.
   I feel guilty, almost like this is another blow to my friends and family, I put them through years of pain and fear during my anorexia. They wondered all the time if I would die or kill myself and when I would talk to them I was so dead inside that it hurts me to think about the things I would say to them. I've apologized to them for that, I think it was a special part of my recovery to address everything with them and explain to them the answers to the questions that they asked themselves and me. We became closer in some ways, and I think they were actually proud of me for beating that monsterous disease. And now here I am with a failing body and there is nothing they can do and I can't really answer their questions anymore. I've accepted this and I will fight it, but I leave a lot of the  tough stuff out when I talk to them because its not fair to put them through more hell. With Josh its different, he is the one that picks me back up on days like today when I fall apart in tears and talk about giving up and he reminds me why we keep fighting.
   Do I think its fair that I was given this disease, no, but I don't think its fair that anyone is given any disease. The way I see it we all get handed some crappy hands in life sometimes but its how we play them that matters and I plan on playing this hand out and living everyday and laughing as much as I can. I have friends who do the same thing and I admire them for the fight they put up everyday. I spent way too many years wasting the life that was given to me and now I'm going to fight to enjoy however much time I have left...no matter the pain, surgeries, medicines, doc appointments I still have my beautiful son, amazing partner and family and friends who make me smile everyday. I'm sick but my life doesn't need to revolve around it, so today I fell down but tomorrow is a new day and I will get right back up.

Fear

I was talking to Josh about my next blog post because I was so unsure about what to talk about and then he came up with the perfect subject...fear. during my anorexia one of the biggest things that held me in my disorder was fear. My anorexia was my best friend and my protector and losing it scared the crap out of me. Looking back I was afraid of everything...food, weight, people knowing my secrets, and so much more.
   Fear drove my anorexia and made me do anything to sabotage my recovery. I spent weeks and even months in treat,  residential setting, eating disorder units, and my doctor's adolescent medical unit fighting them tooth and nail every step of the way. They locked my tube feeds up in a box so I wouldn't touch them, they restricted me to the unit so I couldn't exercise, and they put sitters in my room so I wouldn't tamper with my tube or iv lines. These doctors and nurses were fighting and fearing for my life while I was too afraid to face my life and fight my disease. Even when they diagnosed me with gastroparesis and removed all but ten percent of my stomach and put in another surgical j tube...I still couldn't let go I couldn't face the things of my life without my anorexia.
   Then things began to change...it wasn't all at one I became so scared to live I tried to kill myself three times one of which ending me up in the intensive care unit. The fear began to change...I was still scared of living without my ED, not having my weight and calories to control but I had a new fear of dying. It took months of fighting and falling apart but I slowly began facing my fears and learning to let go of my anorexia. Don't get me wrong I still have some fears...I'm terrified of jeans and I find it best for my recovery to leave them alone and I also stay away from scales my doctors know and I no longer need to. Recovery scares the hell out of me somedays and I think about the way it use to be when I had that fake protection from my disease, but then I think about the fears I have now. I fear for the damage I've done to my body, I fear the surgeries, the medications and constant hospital trips, but my main fear is dying before my baby knows who his mommy is. I look at him everyday and think about what he will see growing up and it hurts me. He doesn't have a mommy that can chase him for hours at the park without needing a dose of pain medication and a nap when we return or he will never know me without tubes and central lines. Fears change as life does. I fear for my baby now...every little scrape on his kneee or fever he gets I want to cry with him...he is my world and my only hope is to keep fighting for him because giving up isn't an option I overcame my fear of giving up my anorexia and recovered now I will keep psuhing a body that is weakening as far as I can and I pray to watch him grow into a wonderful man someday. Fear only controls us as long as we let it.