Apologies!

My bad! I haven't posted for over a week because I have been completely sucked into the Vancouver Olympics! I went up to Whistler mountain to watch Cross-Country skiing yesterday and today I was in the heart of the craze in downtown Vancouver! The city has been ecstatic and wild for the past 2 weeks... It was unforgettable.

I will be back to posting and going back to a normal routine of things, starting tomorrow.


Go Canada!

Bobble-heads

This is a picture of me. I took this the day after I got my 4th tattoo on my neck. But this photo is not about the tattoo (despite it's beauty!), it's the obvious spinal bones popping out. I am barely bending my neck down in this photo, but you can even see my collar bone jutting out when the camera is behind me... My angular shoulders and the sharp edges of my scapula. No wonder I couldn't stay warm, even in a sauna. I felt like I was trapped in a freezer every minute of the day. I went to sleep shivering and I woke up shivering. My daily diet consisted of hot black coffee, hot tea with Splenda, and ice water. Why did I put myself through such hell? How did I see this as "fat"? 

Alcohol Temptations

10.21.2009

My alcoholic tendencies seem to have run wild. I was careless in believing that it might have been acceptable to expose my brother to my addictions and vulnerability. I wouldn't say that I am an alcoholic, but I'm cutting it close. I drink every night and I drink just for the sake of forgetting that life really sucks.It numbs out my pain and I can laugh without reason. I can smile without reason. The world seems to be numb to the fact that I am slowly killing myself. I need to control this before it gets worse. At least I can see how much I am damaging myself through the simple act of drinking some wine... But at my body weight (98 lb today), half a glass of red wine will tip me over.

Yes, I'm a cheap date.

So far therapy has done wonders in calming me down. I never used to believe in therapy. Now I'm addicted! (Joke). Taking in a relaxing environment from deep within my soul... It's like a deep tissue massage for my mind. I should (must) continue.

For those of you who are strong, motivated, organized, and put-together people who do not believe in the power of therapy, I ask you to open your mind to the fact that psychotherapy is also a branch of professional medical practice. When you get a cut, you put a bandaid and ointment on it. When you have a headache, you take a tylenol. When your mind is in distress and confusion, you see a therapist. Talk therapy is its own branch of healing. And for those of you who are as "type-A" personality as I am, I highly recommend opening your heart (or try) to an individual you will never call you friend, you can only ever call your therapist.

10.21.2009

If ever there was a time for me to realize that we live in a world full of temptation, it would be during a morning of rainfall and deep thoughts in Vancouver.

As I try to rediscover my life of respectable balance, I am continually reminded of my failures, all that could be, and all that should be. I see my friends struggle with life as working men and women, making as much needed cash they can get their hands on because they need the resources for food, rent, gas... And I am left as a privileged child of a family that can't leave me without basic resources. But these basic resources are things I want to earn for myself, starting from the ground up. Is that too much to ask? Is that foolish to ask?

I cannot take for granted the gifts bestowed upon me. A roof over my head, coffee hot and fresh each morning, cold and clean water available for my thirsty throat... all when I need it, where I need it. Something as simple as a duvet and blanket for me to tuck into at night... The simple things are always taken for granted. Simple... that's also a word that we individually define.

The list never ends.

The only fundamental gift that I cannot purchase is the ability to make the right decisions. I must take each day and meal as a blessing and act appropriately.

I just ate a light breakfast. Of course, my morning latte (and a Motilium pill 20 minutes ago), a handful of Frosted Flakes, and 3 roasted chestnuts. If I have more, I will reach an uncomfortable level of fullness which I must avoid. The focus here is to re-train my stomach to handle and contain what I feed it.

My brother doesn't seem to be standing by my side lately. There is a cold distance between us that is hard for me to ignore. I see him as a part of me, a major part of my life an growing up. I have been foolish to assume that he wouldn't pick up on my sickness. We share blood. Of course he can feel my pain. But I still need to hide him from this for now because all he can see is that I am home sick, and that I am getting better. I want him to continue feeling hope and the last thing I need to force into his life is a disease that is as traumatizing as mine.

Olympics

GO CANADA!

10.20.2009

Responsibilities do not decrease by day, rather, they gain in number each minute.

Currently... here is my medical action:

Celexa, K-lyte potassium supplements, zinc gluconate, phosphates solution, Motilium (domperidone), Centrum multivitamins, and the list will surely grow.

I have depleted my body of so much necessities that I need to take them in liquid and pill form to bring my body to normal functioning condition again. This acute stage of my recovery is very tiring.

In addition, I have been ordered to receive Magnesium infusions at the hospital. Each infusion takes at least 5 hours and the infusions are done intravenously. Does this sound fun? I will be a part-time hospital inpatient during this process.

Already, I can picture my recovery process occurring in an inpatient facility, but I have not yet been formally asked to do this. At the age of 21, I need to give my own consent to admit to this type of care. All of these tests and check-ups, however, must be administered every day. Doctors and nurses overlooking every change in my body. Always taking notes, always gathering information, always keeping watch... I really pushed myself too far.

Maintaining a careful watch on my condition is a non-stop job. Not just for my support staff, but more importantly, for me. I am nervous of how I will continue catering to my needs and body when I return to full-tine school and learn to live on my own again. The idea is incredibly refreshing and unbearably scary at the same time. What can I do now at home to increase the frust and faith of my family, friends, and physicians? I just need to keep improving.


I want to rediscover the comfort of living a comfortable life. Snacking, studying, resting, laughing, socializing... it should all come naturally as it once did. As natural as breathing. Somehow along the way, I took a deep fall and forgot the basics of healthy living. I was the most health-conscious person in the world, then flipped 180 degrees into someone deceitful, depressed, and unhealthy.

I just need to regain focus and re-learn, of course, then again, I am a fast learner and I can do this. I will.

I feel stable, strong, and confident, but how can I now thank my mom for staying by my side through all of this? She deserves to know how much I appreciate her love and time. I am wearing her out, but she keeps pushing through for me. Maybe I am not strong enough yet to admit my feelings towards another person, including my own mother. I have always found it difficult to relay my emotions and feelings to other human beings. There has always been a wall. Am I weak for only being able to speak my heart out in my mind? No. It is not a weakness nor is it a flaw. It is just a human skill that I have not quite mastered yet. But only time limits me and I will learn to do this.

I'm trying too hard to defeat myself at a competition where scores don't exist. I need to call a truce with myself and my body.

Layla Part II

Layla told me today that relapse during recovery was an inevitable truth, a basic part of the disease I carry. SO, I shouldn't blame myself for any unpredictable "mistakes". How do I explain this to my parents? Will she just nod her head but inside be sweating with frustration? Should I tell her now or wait for a "moment"? Am I dont waiting for these moments though? Isn't that what got me into this point of distress in the first place? When I lose sight of my words and thoughts, will my disease take over again? Will this cycle ever stop?

I can feel the Celexa working now.

When you truly love someone, you will try to protect them no matter what the circumstances. Sometimes with your own dignity and pride on the line, you will protect the ones you love. Humans are bless (or cursed) with the ability to do this. But the extent that a parent goes for their child.... it's inexplicable. Miraculous, even.

Maybe burdens are meant to be shared. Maybe I have been wandering for too long alone, hoping to find a savior to diminish my problems... but that kind of waiting won't make the pain go away. I have always been a person of action, but why is it so hard to ask for help when I truly need it? When my life depends on it?

I need to learn to love and live again. Going through the process of refeeding and renourishment is only the beginning part of the picture.

Yale, let your light shine.

Best friends

October 20th 2009 -
I need to re-discover my faith. My religious sanctity. "Let Your Light Shine" - A quote from the book of Matthew in the bible that helps me remember that my light never went out, but it did dim for a long period in my life. I got a tattoo of this verse in Latin on the back of my neck. It's a reminder to me to keep the light from tips of my hair down to my toes shining brightly for the goodness in me. It is a reminder that I always have the light of God guiding my way in life. My light may have dimmed, but my passion to defeat the demon in me ignites a flame. My light will continue to grow brighter and brighter.

Healing deep wounds comes with time and sturdy support. Medicines and ointments only alleviate the pain and help conceal the damage, but true healing comes from the innate mechanisms of the body only. I need to give myself time to heal. I need space, thought, support, and of course, extra-strength bandaids.

I look around me, no matter where I go, and I only see the gifts that I have been given in this life I call mine. My possessions all come at a price, however, but they are all in my hands. How did I get born into a life with so much, but why do I feel like I deserve so little? I do not know. Should I even question my worth? What defines my worth anyways? All blessings are terrifying, but I should nurture what I am given... so far I have been destroying and starving my body, the greatest gift of all.

The only thing left for me to pray for now is continuous recovery and healing and a swift return to Cornell and the life I put on hold. I miss it dearly. Especially my loved ones I left behind.

One of my best friends, E, has been a strong influence in my life. She is goal-oriented, successful in her own rights, and seems very happy. She supports me like no other adult woman has. She believes in me, and she doesn't need to express it in words. She tells me that I remind her of her own personality, but without my health issues, I hope. Nonetheless, it is greatly satisfying to have her on my side. I need her and I want to always be there as a healthy, supportive friend like she has been for me. She has always played on my team, but I want to play with her hand in hand, side by side.

I wish E could know how important she is in my life. There is no doubt that without her in my Ithaca life, I would not be the same person I am today. I cannot escape my fate, but the course of how I reach my destiny can be different and can be chosen. It never has to hit rock bottom again. I owe so much to her. One day, I will find the perfect way to express this love and gratitude to her. One day.

I need to keep writing until my mom comes home. Keeping my hands and mind busy is the best way for me to keep sane and away from trouble. I want a cigarette.

10.20.2009 Rebuilding

My sleep has been awfully irregular and I cannot seem to maintain a deep sleep throughout the night, leaving me vulnerable to falling prey to an unnecessary mid-day nap. Sleep problems and insomnia are a common problem in anorexics. Dr. B told me that when the body is starving, the first human necessity is stripped away - Food. First we need food and nutrients, then we need sleep. So without the first building block to health, we cannot obtain the second. When I was at Cornell for the last 3 years, I always thought that my sleep problems were normal for me, that it was my own biological clock because I still felt completely rejuvenated and awake when I started my mornings after waking up at 3-4AM. I would use the night to escape any social situations that might require me to bust out of my "bubble of security". My friends, like other collegiate adults, were off at parties and bars. I, on the other hand, was directed by my eating disorder to stay safe from any activities that would involve food or drinks or any sort of calorie engaging activity. Sure, anything academic or school related was fine because the main purpose of those assemblies was "productive". So eventually, I started to equate the word fun with work.


I will need to tell Dr. B about my Sleep problems.

It has been many weeks since I held a pen in my hand and wrote so furiously on paper. I must have left this joy in New York as well.

Speaking of NY, I should take some time to figure out why I started to purge there in the first place. I thought it was a physical symptom of something. I just felt nauseous after everything I ate, which caused problems for me and my roommate. She eventually moved out. We did not get along at all.
Living in my first roommate situation was incredibly difficult for me while I was fostering this disease. It should have been a memorable and fun time in my life. At one point, I decided that I was okay with the decided accommodations, that I would have to endure having a roommate instead of a single room, but I was faking it.

I remember going to Vic one night (a doctor friend I met 3 years ago during an internship at the NY Presbyterian Hospital), asking for a prayer. Feeling so miniature and insignificant in the "real world" as I saw Manhattan. I stood on top of my building's rooftop every night smoking a cigarette and wondering why my life was where it was at and who I really was. I felt like I would never reach the level of self-satisfaction in my life that I have spent so madly trying to build for the last twenty years. I wanted everything, and more.

Now that I think about it, what more was I really asking for? Let me try to count all of my blessings...

Family, friends, intimate bonds of love, supportive home, stability, financial security, privileged education, beautiful clothes, freedom of choice, proud parents, no discrimination as an Asian or Woman from the people who matter to me, unbreakable sibling relationship with my brother, unwavering friendships around the globe, academic curiosity, hope for a brighter future, Christian faith and beliefs, fruitful life ahead of me with a family and love, beautiful face and body gifted to me and only me by my loving parents and God...


That's it... I'm a gift to be treasured. Why keep myself from what my unique soul really desires from this lifetime? Why let others dictate what I can and cannot do? Why do I pose needless and tragic limits on myself?


I was letting the beauty of my life, a baby in my parents' eyes, a baby in the real world, take too much responsibility for the world's unforeseen mishaps. I am not superhuman. 


Although, I strived to become one.


I am always on a path of discovery, or should I say, "rediscovery". But I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere. At some point, I stopped learning, growing, maturing... I was walking on eggshells.


So? What is my plan?


Well, at this point, I have none... Is that so bad? Will it kill me? No.
Because I will always have a roof over my head and I will always be fed and nurtured. I do not live a life where I need to sleep with one eye open in fear that my life might be taken from me in my sleep. But at the rate that my disorder was controlling my actions, I was in dangerous reality of death. My heart (according to my physician at Gannett) was going to give up on me at any minute and I needed to take action immediately. 


Where did my perspective go? If someone is given a gift, she would use it to her advantage to help herself and others around her. Instead, I took all that I could and used it to harm myself and destroy my relationship with others...


I have been clouded by the demon within me. 


Is it too bold or early for me to identify this disease as something not me?
I feel pretty confident that I can see the light again. But it will be a long time and journey to clear the smoke and ashes left behind. Then after I clear the air, my city and kingdom will be rebuilt. But I cannot do this using my own two hands, I will need to ask for help (asking for help is the hardest thing in the world for me to do). There are many supportive hands and many loud and clear voices of trust that I can count on to help me rebuild my life. They will help me rebuild a city built on love. But this time things will be 100x more difficult than the first. All walls and roofs will have to be better constructed... waterproof, rainproof, windproof, fireproof.


I will rebuild a sanctuary this time. An inner haven where I can find solace when a dark cloud creeps my way again. I will need to learn to re-trust my true voice. I will need to learn to listen and observe all over again. But somehow, this seems less of a necessity than an inspired act. It is a new challenge for me, yet one that cannot be lost or forsaken. I will rule this land, my new body. However it turns out, I just need to rule it with a steady and unfaltering hand and smile. People I love will learn to love and trust me again. I will too.


I may lose battles, but I cannot lose the war. The clarity of my inner voice must guide me through rocky roads and rapid waters. 

Layla

My new therapist, Layla - Is she going to be the help I need?

So far after two sessions she has heard more about my "inner anorexic voice" than anyone in this world. Somehow, this is a very soothing idea to me. A month ago, it would have petrified me. Something I should have taken advantage of far too long ago, but today is no time for regrets or take-backs.

At 21 years of age, she calls me a "baby". I suppose in the grand scheme of life, this is the plain and simple truth. But at every stage of our lives, we feel older than our years. My case is no different. I often feel like a middle-aged woman trapped in a teenage body. Actually, I should say, child's body. No curve, no volume, no shapeliness. But my life has been on fast forward for so long. I have become better adapted to gauging situations through the eyes of adulthood rather than sticking to my own day and age. Sex, drinking, parties, masquerades... all seems (seemed) like juvenile games that would only set me back when the real focus of my time in Vancouver is to look ahead into the future and prepare for the long road ahead of me. I blame my inability to keep pace with my own life and age for the way I act upon events in life today. How do I get the time back?

Layla called my condition "rapid cycling" - otherwise known as Bipolar Disorder Type 2.

I have yet to research this and reflect on my newly diagnosed condition. I'm chock full of surprises lately.

When my body feels tied down and bound to heavy burdens, I must remember to take deep breaths and shake it all off. Life doesn't have to be such a burden. Everything can be a new learning experience. Failure is a self-defined word. You can only truly fail at being true to yourself. And I have consistently been faltering at this concept for months, consistently getting a lower and lower score with each trial I take. But now, I am returning to study/health/learning mode. I guess my doctors are my teachers and my therapists are my tutors; my family is my study group.My actions and choices will affect us all.

Since beginning my anti-depressant medication (Celexa), my bouncing emotions (Rapid cycling) seems to be in better control. It has only been 4 days since I have started, but if the drug acts on my brain, then it won't take long for me to start reacting. Biology doesn't change. But on the other hand, with my addictive personality, it won't be hard for me to start using it as another source of "healing"; it may very well become my new crutch. I already feel my love emerging for it; longing for it.

Soon, the cravings will be born, much like my anorexic tendencies. But I have been pre-warned of this and I know better. I will control it. I must.

My stomach gets upset when I eat combinations of foods. At first my thoughts were that the nausea stemmed from an uneven consumption of liquid and solid foods. I feel the solids and liquids becoming a mash up of disgust that comes up my esophagus with great ease as my body wishes to purge it and get rid of any "nutrients" it secretly longs for. Now I see that this is not the true case; it can't be. Only this afternoon, I had a lunch consisting of teriyake seafood grill. Healthy and quick. I tried drinking no liquids with the meal (I was being monitored, of course), which was an easily digestible mis of softly grilled seafood, generous array of vegetables, and brown rice. A health freak's dream meal, I must say. Overall, it can be described and seen as a good picture of a balanced lunch, but in the back of my head, all I could see were numbers. Calories.

But after 2 hours of walking/digesting, feel no remorse over the consumed meal, I came home to find that if I was alone, I would have been able to purge at least half of the meal, if not more. With or without water. What I have done to my digestive system through the months/years of starvation... I will never have a good reason for my actions.

Some blood tests I have taken came back to my eating disorder physician, Dr. B. The greatest concern was a fatal Magnesium deficiency. I expect to be asked to start a supplementation for this tomorrow when I see him for my second appointment.

A Quick note

I will be changing names of my therapists and doctors on my support team. It is just to protect their identity.
For the next few weeks, I will be logging journal entries from journals that I have kept privately during my recovery and treatment phase. I believe that it will help not only me, but the people reading my blog to understand the underlying thoughts and dilemmas in my mind as a recovering "addict". Please leave comments and spread the news about my blog to people you love and I hope to encourage them to take each day as a gift where your body is a temple and your soul is a treasure.

10.19.2009 Pace Yourself

"I probably should have started this journal immediately when I arrived in Vancouver, but I keep learning new ordeals and thoughts each day which keeps me from writing out my present or past thoughts. But no need to beat myself over this. It really isn't a mistake.

When I realized how deep I had dug my hole (anorexic hole), I really saw a reflection of how weak I had become. Unfortunately, I masked this and renamed it as victorious and as the ultimate show of strength.

I need a new secret weapon to see my inner beauty and strengths. So far, my weapon has been the ability to starve or binge/purge to keep my outer appearance "satisfactory", but my dictionary of what is beautiful and what is not has been distorted all along. I am a winner and I will defeat this.

The cycle continues. I am learning my boundaries now. But when I am alone and on my lonesome it is often easier to fall victim to the voice of treason and terror rather than the voice of reason in my head. How do I thwart the darkness that overcomes me as I eat? It has become instinctual. I am human, and animal. I am bound to fall prey to my instincts, unless I change them. The larger part of me does not want to change. Being thin trumps all wild cards, doesn't it? Shouldn't the foremost goal of a woman's life be to look like the gorgeous and stick thin supermodels who stand as the face and body of all fashion magazines and advertisements? The whole globe finds this desirable, and I want to be desired. So isn't this my primary goal in life? Haven't I already beaten all women in this quest for thinness?

Or am I the loser?...

I can only hold onto my evil habits for so long in secrecy before my trust is one again broken between mother and daughter, father and daughter, brother and sister, friend and friend...

What I am sure of today is that under watchful eyes, the weight of food, consumption, intake, change, all drown me under the consciousness of my eating disorder. It's like those thoughts are the molecules of oxygen I need to breathe. But I need to just consider that I am not supposed to test these things alone. The route to recovery is through a team of loved ones and a group of support. I should stop trying to seclude myself in a bubble of independence. I do not even need to seek help; it is abundant all around me. I just have to reach my hand out and accept it with welcome arms. I am not alone in banishing my eating disorder. You are not alone in being rid of your demon.

Tomorrow I will ask for company. When I feel weak, I will lean on my crutch and not let that shame me.

My throat burns of desire to binge again. To binge then purge out all of the anxiety and frustration in my life. Let nothing consume my thoughts but the idea that I can eat what I want, when I want, then dispose of it all down the drain. No one needs to know. Just me and my eating disorder. See, this is the independence demon speaking again.

It is crucial to resist the burning desire to do the wrong thing; don't fall into the grip of the demon. It is not me. It is the calling of my sick body that has already lost. It lost the day I decided to take action and become a new me.

How long will it take for me to develop a new sense of appetite? A healthy way of eating and exercising? A normal and balanced life of fun, food, and academia? The longer you wait, the heavier your burden will become, so take action - do it with a smile on your face!

If you rush, you will lose your footing - How do we find the right pace in recovery?

Today is a new day

I should have started this blog a long time ago. Journaling my life from the day I started my process of recovery. Maybe all of my confusion would have been easier to account if I had written for an online audience. Especially young women and men out in the world who are looking for someone to understand and someone to help them through their own darkness and confusion. If you are going through the turmoils of a disability or disease like my anorexia, I hope you follow this blog and start your own journal.

I have been keeping a fairly limited journal full of entries since the summer of 2009 when I decided to come back home to Vancouver to seek treatment. I need to readdress those thoughts and words on this blog for others looking for a way to read and escape their own troubles and hopefully find the courage to seek help of their own. It was the hardest thing I have had to do; leave school to take a break from my past life and go into full time care and treatment. But this time away from school has given my the inspiration to start a new life full of happiness, love and peace. I am still paving the grounds for my future, and I still seem to make plenty of mistakes each day, but today is a new day. Today is a new day. Every morning is a new morning.