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.

update

   Things have been difficult the last few days. We have been spending a lot of time trying to get the new place ready and Josh has been the one having to  put in most of the effort because my health is declining much more quickly than anyone would have hoped. Got a hold of the doctor today and she is increasing my pain medication by tem mls a day hoping that can get us through a little better. My energy level is completely depleted and the new tube feeds hurt so bad and I end up throwing half of them up which is impressive given they are going into my small intestine. Its been harder on everyone, Josh is trying to pick up the slack getting our place ready so we can move out of my parent's house while taking care of Damien so I can get some extra rest in. The rest of the family pitches in quite a bit but I feel so freaking worthless.
   I feel like a burden to everyone. My dad made the comment that he hates what I've done to myself and I can't argue with his feelings because I did do this, years of anorexia ruined my stomach. The docs have told us that the gastroparesis was probably going to happen but it might have been less severe and I could have had a few more healthy years without worrying about surgeries and how I'm going to get my nutrition in. People who think that once you are recovered from your eating disorder everything gets all better are misinformed. Starving your body and inducing purging does serious damage to your body that can take years to heal and sometimes, like in my case will probably kill you long before you should die.I feel useless and like a failure. I do everything I can to be a good mother to my son, but sometimes I slack off in other areas, I have a hard time jumping up and cleaning my entire house in the morning and some days I'm throwing up so much that Josh has to take care of our son and that hurts me because I want to be a part of Damien's life, I want to be involved in every aspect of his world and I also want to be a good woman to josh. I'm overly emotional a lot and snippy because of the constant pain and I hate that. I have a lot more to say but my beautiful boy needs his mommy to hold him right now so this was just an update more to come later.