Last post in the 2nd week of May? Unbelievable. I really need to post more often. But Until my MCAT is written and over with on June 17th, then my summer truly starts.
Did I write that I am planning on moving to France next year? For 2011? I'll have to write about all the gaps between...
About Me
- Yale K.
- Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
- Cornell University College of Human Ecology, Class of 2010
5.31.2010
5.12.2010
The Summer Season
What is it about summer that makes me want to jump out of bed and start the morning with a huge grin on my face? I must be a person who is seriously affected by the seasons and weather because when it hits May, I become a different person.
What to say, what to say... I wish I had more time to blog more thoroughly about my ED recovery process, but I can say that without a doubt, summer-time will make me a better person (even better!). I'll post more soon, but now? Bed time!
What to say, what to say... I wish I had more time to blog more thoroughly about my ED recovery process, but I can say that without a doubt, summer-time will make me a better person (even better!). I'll post more soon, but now? Bed time!
3.27.2010
Recap with my ED therapist
11.2.2009
Wow it's already November... (Can't wait for Christmas!)
This week with Layla, we went through pros & cons of my eating disorder. We also talked about the return of my dad and the impact that would have on my recovery. Altos, we discovered that many of my listed cons are also acting as pros that actually drove my anorexia.
I encourage all of you who are dealing with an ED to make a list. It can be a simple table that lists the Pros and the Cons of what your sickness is doing to you. How is it a separate entity and how is it sneaking its what into your daily life?
Trust me, we all (healthy or not) have demons. Some people are born with physical impairments (deaf, blind...), some people have early balding, some people stutter, some people have major problems with food... Your pros/cons list can be personal and will be unique. Try it out, you might write things out that you never even knew you felt or thought. Then try to go through your cons and see if maybe in some twisted way, you used something that you know is obviously "bad" for you because it made you more thin, or more cool, or more attractive, or more desirable... etc.
Anyways, I'm excited to spend more time with my friends as I discover more similarities and dissimilarities between myself and the people I call my friends. Alcohol seems to be a driving force in my social life and that really can't be a replacement for me eating disorder. But I need to find ways to distract me and grange the way I see my anorexia. My "pros" list must be replaced with a healthier alternative. Reading? Yoga? Meditation? Anything... I guess I'm willing to try anything at this point.
Cons of my Eating Disorder
I really wish eating wasn't such a damn struggle for me. Why am I cursed with this need to empty my system? I really need to control my disorder. I want to go through my rehab without deadly relapses. I'm destroying my future. I'm done with this demon. I need to unbind myself from the chains of this wrath and walk the steady and lit path of love, life, and God. How can I prove to myself that I do have self worth? How can I start to see myself as beautiful? I want to be able to see my reflection, regardless of size or shape, and admit to the world that I am okay and content with whatever I can see, because I am healthy, happy, and blessed to be given life and all the foods & gifts in it. How long will it take for me to be able to do that?
Cons
Cons
- it made me distant from the people I love
- it allowed me to excuse myself from living life like a "normal" young adult
- forced me to hurt my body, which is a gift from God and my parents that is meant to be guarded and treasured
- made my eyes see a deception, and my true intellect was blinded by it
- caused the people around me with genuine love for me to worry and become scared for my life
- made the main focus of each day to plot out how to starve myself, not to plan for my school life or social agenda
- made me a master at sneaking, lying, deceiving, plotting, hiding, and hurting...
- made my forget how to be my true self
- made me lose focus of the goals that I had planned and the dreams I wanted to pursue
- forced me to harvest negativity, which made me weak and frail, but convinced me that it was strength & invincibility
- made me see "thinness" as the ultimate sign of intelligence and dominance, when really, they are completely unrelated
- made me lose track of the things that truly make me smile. (for so long, the only thing worth smiling about was self-starvation and dropping numbers on the scale)
- made me see death as a beautiful thing, as something to work towards...
10.26.2009... and more.
10.26.2009
Leaving home for college was my opportunity to escape the boundaries of childhood and prove my independence. Although I was obviously dependent on my parents financially, it was important to be able to show them that money was being invested in something bright and promising for the future.
10.27.2009
I'm living in a renewed sense of constant fear. My body is rejecting food again, but I really must force it down and feed it. Breakfast (early) is the best time for my body to digest at its best state. But the fear of newfound intake eats away at me and my mind. Why am I plagued with this disease? If, I am without mental fears, will the physical symptoms go away? I suppose it's all in my head. I have a very powerful demon stuck in my head and soul.
I need to test my determination. My entire being depends on my ability to override this disease.
If I really want this to change, why can't I immediately conquer it? Only time will prove my gains and my failures. But everything now seems moving towards a black hole that is neither bright nor dark. I am constantly struggling. Where is all of my personal strife coming from?
Why can't I save myself? Where did the light in my heart go?
10.28.2009
Recovery. It means I died or failed along the way... I need to "recover" from the fall that I've taken. Recovery is not an independent journey. Professions, mentors, friends, and family... I need as much support to fain *full* recovery. Wish is my only dream and goal at this point.
I will start using some personal stories of recovered patients that I can find online to guide me through this time. "Normal" is a subjective word that I must learn to re-define. As well, I must rediscover and resume my path to maturity post-eating disorder.
This next bit is by Aimee Lier reprinted in Eating Disorders Today (Winter '07, Vol 5, No. 1):
"Arrested Development", "delayed" or "hyper" maturity?
... Was on full speed for so long that physical stunting, becoming thin and "invisible" was a sure fire way to return to a state of lost childhood...
I enjoyed my childhood while it lasted, but I rushed through it so far after my grandpa died that I never regained a security that can only be gained by going through life at each stage in steady time. So how do I turn back the clocks?
My body is telling me that my cards have already been turned and that now, respect is the name of the game. My body deserves respect.
Again, lost track of time!
Sorry everyone, it seems like I have waves of when I blog and when I don't.
I've been keeping busy (as I'm sure you all have) which prevents me from keeping my blogging going at a constant rate. Anyhow, I have a few more past logs to write up. Keep tuned!
I've been keeping busy (as I'm sure you all have) which prevents me from keeping my blogging going at a constant rate. Anyhow, I have a few more past logs to write up. Keep tuned!
3.09.2010
A Tribute to True Friends... (You know who you are)
Note: This particular post will be a continuous post that I intend on adding to periodically. Some things are timeless, like my friends and what they mean to me.
Over the test of time (and in my case, distance), the individuals who have played an immense role in my continuing recovery are still standing firm and loving. I need to pay tribute to them today...
EG: You are my Ithaca-Mom, and my steady source of love and unwavering courage. Since day one, you believed in me and never gave up or stood down. You saw my purest and true self when I was stuck in the muddy grime of my sickest point. You helped me smile a real smile and cry tears of joy when all I could see were clouds and smoke ahead of me. You are a friend for life and a part of my future forever... Let's be "ugly" together! Thank you...
G: My newfound friend and sister. A beautiful woman who has taught me the value of continuing to strive and leap towards sunshine in rainy days. My difficult hospital visits when I was in the acute phase of my treatment, receiving intravenous Mg shots and infusions would have been terrifying without you to text and talk to... So far so good! The distance has only brought us closer together. You never stopped connecting with me and reaching out - every fiber of my being cannot thank you enough for this. I love and care for you deeply.
J: My husband-to-be & fiancee! When will I get to hold you again and visit small town Starbucks and motels with you? Soon we will laugh hysterically at our immortal jokes and non-sensical comments. I miss your embrace dearly.
B & B - My twins, my friends, my rocks... we met on day 1 and somehow made it until today - but it is not the end! Not even close. Your prayers for my return to health are being heared and answered. I won't let you down and I wish you can forgive me for putting you through worries and pain. I wish you can forgive me for rejecting your help and be blind to the obvious need I was in for the attention you were throwing at me. My body and soul were longing to accept your love and care, but the demon in me made me push you aside. I did not deserve to have your beautiful souls in my life back then but I am on my hands and knees thanking God for binding our friendship more and more each day. I am so grateful girls. I wouldn't be alive without your support. Saying goodbye to you last summer was one of the most difficult times for me and I am so sorry for not being able to give you an answer to my departure at that time, but I hope you understand now. Perhaps time does heal all wounds? I can't wait to see you soon - keep smiling!
Car: You are the only person who has known of the roots of my sickness from its birth several (many) years ago. You are the only one I know I can turn to the way I confide in myself - we are bonded in that special way, aren't we? Our secrets, sorrows, worries, and joys are linked forever. This blog is dedicated to our life-long recovery and health. Let's, together, aim to see the stars in the sky again.
T: Our communication since my departure has been scare, but I continue to believe in our bond. Spread your wings and fly with me.
A: My wine sugar! Can we set a wine date soon? I miss your unique values and quirky congeniality - I have to thank you over and over and over again for keeping in touch with me with an abundance of optimism, hope, and laughs. I know I can count on your to turn my frown upside down. You have been a steady source of support that didn't judge me or reject me. How can I possibly thank you for that? (Maybe an expensive bottle of pinot grigio?) - I may hate horses, but I love, love, love you!
Thinking at Delaney's Cafe
I'm sitting in Delaney's cafe hoping to finally fine some peace of mind in order to write about my past month.
My dad has been away for a month now - he returns the day after tomorrow and this event will dramatically change the current flow in my life.
If I haven't already written about this, here I go...
I love my dad, I really do. He has done only the best of the best for me as his child. He has given me opportunities and gifts that most teenage female immigrants can only dream of (or see in Hollywood flicks). My list of gratitude towards him can go on for days...
But that is not my point.
He has been, in my opinion, blessed to have raised an adolescent daughter like me.
I never rebelled as a kid, never dwelled on the drinking and partying scene, never broke major rules, worked exceptionally hard in school, achieved commendable well-roundedness as a student (arts, athletics, academics, and community service), and excelled as a college applicant (got into renowned universities, 2 Ivy League institutions, attended Cornell on a scholarship).
But one day in August 2009, my dad (and mom) received a call from the health center at Cornell about the health status of their first born and only daughter. This call changed their lives forever.
I came home as a very sick young woman. Barely weighing 86 lbs on a 5'5" frame, bones jutting out at all angles, and at a fragile state of life... I was their broken doll.
Since my return and commencement of treatment, I can now see that my dad was practically beating himself to a pulp for blaming my life-threatening illness on himself. Several months ago, I thought he just couldn't leave me alone and was angry with me, angry at life... but it was all just a waterfall of emotions stemming from not understanding the situation at hand. He just wanted answers but had absolutely nowhere to turn.
Yet my dad has always had some problems of his own. As does any human being. His "aura" every day in our West Vancouver home is undeniably a negative burden on the rest of the us living under his roof. My brother and I have always been trapped by my dad. As kids, it was a cage defined by a fear of him and his voice. As I got older, the cage has only thickened because I never took the initiative to talk to him. (Why I never did...I will never know). I wasn't raised as a touchy-feeling, emotionally open, "I love you", express-your-feelings-and-hug-it-out kind of kid. But that is definitely not what caused my illness. Many families hold this dynamic but host healthy and happy individuals. But for me, this was a large part of my downfall and conflict with my dad.
Every day during my intensive recovery/treatment was part hell. Not only did I expend all of my energy on fighting my disorder, trying to banish it from my life and daily regime, but the negative environment I seemed to be caged in in my own home was nothing short of torture for me. I always prayed my dad would vacate my life and space so I could breathe some fresh air without him breathing down my back.
Layla called anorexia the "rebellion disorder" - She related my feelings and situation to what Suzie Orbach wrote about Princess Diana's identical illness (Orbach was Diana's therapist for anorexia). Poised during years in my adolescence when rebellion and defiance are natural and necessary, I (like Diana) finally burst out of a brittle shell and chose a destructive way to rebel. At least out bodies were under out own control.
Now, with my dad returning, the re-balance of optimism and positive energy I have thus built up with my mom at home will be disturbed. Perhaps not broken, but it will definitely be altered.
My hope is that my progress in health and psychological control will prove to support the return of my dad and whatever new challenges that it may bring. I also pray my dad took his time away to reevaluate his thoughts and returns with high hopes and renewed spirit.
My dad is like a giant child. His mind works in a mysterious way that even my mom (after almost 30 years of marriage) does not understand. I keep trying to manipulate it and bend it to my liking, but that is clearly not a solution. I need to learn to focus my goals and align it with his. What makes this slightly easier is the our end goals are the same, for me to return to full health and vivacious love of life. He always looks very far into the future and often fails to observe the events occurring in the present. All I want is for him to see the present situation and be able to evaluate that to his liking (or not). Then to tell me what he is thinking. Because my dad has an incredibly difficult time telling others about his feelings. He doesn't tell my mom, he doesn't tell his children, he locks it in his own soul and drowns in it. I don't want him to suffer, but I understand now that this is not something that I can change at my own will. I will be me. He will be him.
But the hope in my perseveres. When he returns, I can picture a new path in our lives being paved. I see it being a step up from where we left off. I can only hope.
Priorities, priorities...
March 8, 2010
I have really been working my (ass) off to go back to my old thriving, eager, goal-oriented self. I have taken on a full time job at Amadeo. It's a local bakehouse/cafe. I now work as a barista, server, cashier, and chef's helper. That's a lot of responsibilities, but overall, a very easy job. Also, I have been tutoring two students ages 7 & 10. I teach them English. I definitely have had my work cut out for me this past week. It was a busy week of teaching at 7:30am, then heading to Amadeo for 9am, then coming home around 7pm. As well, I am also continuing with my weekly medical appointments and E.D. therapy, but at the moment, I have no idea how I will start to juggle things into a comfortable (manageable) routine. I need to clearly organize, then continue blogging... I promise I won't delay my posts anymore like I have been. But the hype of the Vancouver Olympics in my own hometown was the belle-of-the-ball!
I am currently reading Unbearable Weight by Susan Bordo.
It is an interesting take on women, the female body, feminism, and Western culture.
I have really been working my (ass) off to go back to my old thriving, eager, goal-oriented self. I have taken on a full time job at Amadeo. It's a local bakehouse/cafe. I now work as a barista, server, cashier, and chef's helper. That's a lot of responsibilities, but overall, a very easy job. Also, I have been tutoring two students ages 7 & 10. I teach them English. I definitely have had my work cut out for me this past week. It was a busy week of teaching at 7:30am, then heading to Amadeo for 9am, then coming home around 7pm. As well, I am also continuing with my weekly medical appointments and E.D. therapy, but at the moment, I have no idea how I will start to juggle things into a comfortable (manageable) routine. I need to clearly organize, then continue blogging... I promise I won't delay my posts anymore like I have been. But the hype of the Vancouver Olympics in my own hometown was the belle-of-the-ball!
I am currently reading Unbearable Weight by Susan Bordo.
It is an interesting take on women, the female body, feminism, and Western culture.
2.28.2010
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!
I will be back to posting and going back to a normal routine of things, starting tomorrow.
Go Canada!
2.14.2010
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"?
2.13.2010
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.
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.
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.
2.12.2010
2.10.2010
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.
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.
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.
2.08.2010
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.
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.
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.
2.07.2010
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.
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.
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