Monday, October 6, 2014

None of us fits

It was a very hectic month.
The work started and it has been exhausting. I would come home at 5pm, make dinner, eat, break down, sleep. Day after day. The work itself is good, I got a pay rise and the hours I want, but there is much more work to do than ever before. I love working, but I am just a bit too busy. The dynamic this year is different. There is no room for fun stuff, and for creative teaching. All seems to be boxed up, and it is just go go go.  I lost faith in myself and I have no clue how good I am. The children are progressing big time on daily bases, and I guess that means that I am doing a good job, but honestly, I think I could do it better. I lost my patience few times and I hate myself for that. But I don't know where the line is.....where is me aiming for perfection because I am unwell, and what could really be done better. I would have random breakdowns and the voices would get completely mental.....Like as mental as a year or two ago, even as mental as three years ago at the beginning of my rehab, just that this time the attack lasts shorter, but it is very mental. It happens somewhere around my eyes.... I get that strange feeling when I stop feeling my body, but I only feel the area around my eyes. I feel it for a short few seconds and then is gone.....I am gone......the reality is gone. I become a different person. I change. I live different life. I live a different truth. It is such a torture that all I can do I cry and beg it to stop. It gets so out of control that I physically cannot breathe anymore. It tunes me out and my head goes so crazy it is like I would listen to 5 different radio stations at the same time and all of them were very, very violent.
But I believe it all. And I am very mean. I am harmful and hurtful. I am not a nice person. I am mean to my husband. He sticks around, and continue supporting me, but I make him cry that mean I get.

Other times I would have, comparing to this very severe break downs, just a melt down. I torture myself for not being perfect, but I still recognize my behaving. I know it is happening and I know I need to go in my room and deal with the pain that just got woken up.

Over the past few weeks I would experience a sever mental break down once a week and a melt down like twice a week, so it has been very tiring.

Beside work, I continued torturing myself with the friend that is not a friend. I treated it as an addiction and I could keep sober for couple of weeks, but I ended up breaking down after two weeks. Then I would pick myself up and continued protecting myself for another two weeks. Everytime the thought "You are not good enough and that is why she is not prioritizing you. If only you were perfect, she would put effort in this friendship. she is perfect. She is active, organized, confident, determent, interesting etc and you are not!" everytime I noticed I am glorifying her, I would change the thought. And it works for another 10 days, then I give in. But it started mattering less to me, until I gave in last Saturday and asked if she would come over. Of course she didn't have time and so she suggested to meet in two weeks time. When I double checked if we can book that Saturday she said AGAIN that she might have family stuff going on because it is her birthday next day. I asked for another day before that and she never replied. Ever since I have been a bit too mental about it again. I cant stop the thinking about why she doesn't like me or why doesn't she put any effort into our friendship. I go on and on and on and I just don't stop. It is quite tiring. There is part of me that goes : Fuck it, like it matters. She just doesn't benefit from your friendship and that is wwhy she doesn't wanna invest into this friendship." And it actually calms me down. Other times rational thinking has no chance. ANd this is how it was for the past three days....... I kept stressing over that every living minute. Even when I thought I am not thinking about it, I did. I would be checking her facebook and trying to find a clue where did it go wrong. what changed? what happened? I would peak on Whatapp to see when was she last seen on whatsaap and she spends more time on there than me and I am pretty addicted. Everyinme I check she is there or was there just few minutes ago, and then I drift into a pain because I see how much time she spends on the phone yet she would never answer me straight away or within few days. I cry and I ache. Then, a healthy thinking   strikes in again (current state) and I see the things from completely different perspective. Yesterday I realized that it all started when I realized that she just doesn't want to open up with me, and I told myself: "That's fine, there ar epeople like this that they just need a lot of time to open up and they may still not be the first starting with their personal life." so I told myself to just try and be more direct with questions and she will answer those. she never did. I would ask the direct question and she just wouldn't answer. then I realized that oh my god, we are not even friends. we cant be friends if she doesn't trust me. then I realized that if I stop texting and calling that our "friendship" will end. But I wasn't willing to do so. So I decided to postpone my action and give another chance. I gave clear signs that I want to be involved in her life and her new born baby. I asked for the pictures. I asked how the baby is. How she is. when to visit. I wrote letter to the baby. sent stuff over. invited over. I even forgot about the fact that she didn't stay at our wedding, she left after the ceremony without letting us know. She just left. and there was the place for her empty at our table. But I got back even less.
and in a mean while while I was hoping I will get a feedback, I was aching.
I spoke to her once how I feel and she assured she is fine with me. but she clearly isn't.
and I just don't give myself a permission to walk away.
but yesterday I got angry for the first time, which I suppose is a good sign, because I think like: I am tired putting an effort into this relationship without getting anything back. And should be good enough reason to let go. as soon as I felt better about it, the sick mind kicked in, and it is telling me "noooo don't let go, just go back to being the one texting and asking." but I don't want this kind of a friendship. I do have other friends that do check on me and randomly text me or call me and ask me how I am. 
we probably started the friendship with different expectations and I thought we are real friends and she thought we are just useful friends and over the last year it got obvious that we cant work out and that we just aren't real friends. She changed and I am bad with changes, she has her own priorities and my friendship is not one of those. I miss her. I would lie if I said I don't miss her. But hey, she doesn't miss me. and friendship is a two way thing.  I grieve and I ache, but I have to let go.

My imperfection is my pain.
Change is not my friend.

I don't know how to cope with my imperfection, and I don't  know how to cope with change.
Both are the only truths in life. We are all imperfect(y perfect) and change is constant.

I am not perfect teacher, I make mistakes sometimes and my "friend" change to the point that is in a way to our friendship.

I understand this, but my ego doesn't. Ego is mean. It feeds itself with this situation and it go so big that it filled up my entire mind. but just knowing what is happening is a big relief. It feels like I will be ok, because it makes sense, because I can understand it.


I don't like being mentally unwell, because no matter how beautiful my life is (and it is beautiful big time) I get hooked with one or two things that are not perfect and let them run my life.
Its so sad and so tiring. I know you all experience the same, and the eating disorders are all about that........you could win a trip around the world and you could be loved by the prince and you can have amazing friends, but mother fucker you ate too much for your lunch so now everything is broken, life sucks and you are not worth being alive. Or a stranger on a street gave you a weird look so your good life doesn't matter any more. or, your friend is neglecting you and nothing else matters but that, it is all your fault and one day you will be perfect and then those things will not be happening.

its a bullshit.
Your split personality will always be in a way and your ego will always find something. If not this then some thing else, but you cant run away.

You have to give yourself a permission to not be good enough for some people and in some situations. You have to give yourself permission to feel unloved and not wanted and believe that we all experience that some time and it is not because you failed, it is because some people just don't feel the same way. there is no way that everyone will ever love you and that is ok, that means you are doing something right......you are not banding under someone else' criterias but you are true to yourself and in a mean while someone doesn't like you that way. that's ok.

How to shut the ego the fuck up, I don't know.
My therapist tells me to make myself feel a body, feel my breathing and say :"You keep on going, but I am bigger and stronger." and to try not actually resist to the voices, not to give them the power, instead, just redirect the attention to the body. if it gets too much and the ego simply is too strong then giving in is not a failure anyway. it just got too strong, and that is painful, you are the victim of ego's violent play, go into your body pain and let yourself feel broken and weak.

What I do, I always resist. I set up rules and I get angry and I just participate in the ego's play.
I am as stubborn as my ego is and that aint good.
I am not nice to myself even when I recognize the voices. I just don't take care of myself. I let ego punish me because I deserve it anyway. I just don't have that faith that I deserve peace and selflove.
I know most of you feel the same way.

its such bizarre thing.....its torturing me I am not normal and I live odd life, but it itself is making me not normal. I cant live normal life, and average life, I am not normal, I am not average. I have mental condition and I am over coming bulimia. I cant live normal life like the rest of the world. Neither can you! but I so badly wanna fit in, I don't let myself be different and openminded, I don't let myself recover. its such a goddamn circle. nothing makes sense.

I am different. I am recovering. I have eating disorder. I live differently. I feel differently. I think differently. I eat differently. And I should go from there.

It is ok. we all have our story. None of us fits. None of us is normal. Those that we call normal need the psychiatrist more than we.

I am broken, and that is fine.
I am recovering. I am trying.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Week in august.

I went beyond myself this week.
I showed myself that I can be a good friend.
Struggling with my own depression and barely keeping the voices controlled I needed to be there for my best friend who lost her mom.
Her mom committing suicide is a very personal field to me. I am the depressed on. I can relate to the people who commit suicide. A very odd feeling fills up my body. It is like I get sad. Very sad for those people. Very sad. Yet at the same time it does not stay just with feeling something like sadness but it also recalls all the pain from the time when I experienced loss of my very close friends myself. Especially the pain when I lost Marusa exactly a year ago as she committed suicide herself.
Flipping between sadness because more and more people get depressed and choose to end their lives and sadness because I experienced that loss, there is also just a puzzled feeling of "What the fuck just happened?" Such moments stop us all and made us think of our own lives for a moment.
But experiencing this difficult time on my own skin  needed to be put aside this time because I needed to be there for my friend which is not something I am particularly good at.
 And I was so afraid I might fail. Going outside, meeting new people, be with the sadness , be supportive........was not on my list for this week. Especially "going out" and "meeting people" part.
I experienced big time anxiety everytime before we sat in the car to drive south to be with my friend. My palms were sweating, my heart was beating fast, my stomach was cramped, my legs were heavy and my mind was set off. Not pleasant and in any other circumstances I would not put myself through that. I did it, however, for my friend. It was my turn to be there for her. I barely held myself together. I did not say much. Most of the time I kept quiet. I felt like crying all the time. But my friend did not cry that much so I did not want to be the wwak one and the one who would end up needing support.
Every day there was part of me hoping she will text saying:"I wanna rest. you dont need to come." Because I needed to recover myself.
The day before funeral was just so strange. Of course I did not want to go to the funeral. I did not want to be surrounded with people. It felt like the time stopped and we are just waiting for something. I did the funeral. I was having a panic attack after panic attack. But I kept telling myself: "This time is not about you!" and so I held myself together but I felt like crying all the time.
My heart was going crazy. I was sweating and I was so so afraid. I dont really know what I was so afraid of, but the feeling was pretty much the same to the feeling when I jumped put of the airplane . Fear.
Fear of failing as friend.
Fear of loss.
Fear of not being capable of holding myself together.
Fear of being judged.
Fear of being useless.
AFter the funeral we went to My friend's home and it was kind of a very happy gathering. But Then over there it was all about me again......I wanted to disappear. I was so afraid of being judged. I was so so afraid. No-one judged. Everyone accepted me fully and they loved both me and my husband.
Everything was ok on the outside but a mess on the inside.
I was a rack.
The next day I tried to recover. I was still full of fear.
I even went into my body and anger came out. Such frustration.
Fear. Anger. Fear. Anger.
Fear I am worthless and ugly. Anger because I am worthless and ugly. Fear. Anger.
Voices telling me I am fat and not perfect. Not needed. Not appreciated.

Then today I couldn't hold anything together any more.
The voices won. They broke me down.
I am useless. I have no depth. People dont like me. People dont appreciate me. I am easily replaceable.. I Am  really not needed. Everyone is better than me. and on and on......
Then, it became more clear that I am feeling this way because of the two specific friends.
Those two that I have been torturing myself with for quite some time now.
Same shit.
They ignore me. They dont like me enough .
yah. what a big deal. There is a lot of people not liking me. Thtas ok. We are a chemistry and not everybody get good reaction when put together. It is all good.
But not for these two.
I guess it is because I thought for both of them that we are friends then to realize we are not friends is quite painful. But I still dont get it. there are other people who I think of as friends and they are not as deep friends as I thought and it hurts but I move on. I mean seriously....that's life.
so I dont really understand how did I get this hooked.
It is a pain in the ass.
Everything they do I glorify. The way they button their fucking jeans after taking a poo is perfect in my head. Not kidding. It is just shouting: You are not that good. She does that better.
And I dont fucking let go.
I mean I kind of am doing better lately. SO I would just have once a week such painful breakdown because of it, but on daily bases I can control my thoughts, because I am treating it as an addiction and I kind of know now how to cope with that.
When I see them online on fb or whatup I react instantly and wanna message. Then I stop myself.
And I grieve. I grieve a lot. But I hold it together.
I will let go completely one day I will one day feel confident enough to get new perspective. I will get better self esteem and I will not crave their attention any more. I will believe I am good without them. Where not, they define me. My failure. My imperfection.

And I dont know how to live with my imperfection.





 

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Depression taking lives

Last night I got a  message from my best friend saying: "Tas I cant meet you tomorrow. Something terrible happened. Will call you soon. I love you. I really love you."
It was an odd message because she is usually totally cheesy with messages.....everything is in signs like xxxx and **** and hearts and suns..... This one was different. It was empty.
My heart sank.

I lying in bed, with a phone in my hands while my husband was taking a shower. I yelled to him: She just sent me an odd msg.

When I said it out loud I knew something is wrong.
The unknown feeling fulfilled my entire body. It was a feeling, not a thought, a feeling that was saying.................Its her mom!


The feeing changed.
The fear came.
Fear of failing as a friend.
I just had one thought........"What if it is really her mom. What if I will not be capable of feeling anything? if she lost her mom she will be in a screaming pain for a while and what if I will not be able to take care of her as her best friend. What if I will be not capable of showing any empathy?"

It was her mom.

She committed suicide.

She got sick about two years ago. She suffered from manic depression so she was flipping from being euphoric to being depressed.
It did not seem like the worst case of the depression.
But it was big enough for her.
Bad day.

She hang herself.

Her husband and son found her.

As much as I understand depression and never judge suicides because I know the pain. I know how torturing it is when you have to live but you literally don't see why would you need to live. There is no reason. Not even your beloved ones are not a good reason to stay. I know how it is if you struggle with depression for years and years. But I don't get it. This time I am angry at her. Like NO! You should try more. You should try harder!! You caused so much pain to us all.

I don't know. it is still all new so I don't really know how I feel but at this moment this is what is going on in my head.


I was so afraid I will not be able to be there for my friend but now all I can think of is "OH no, she is in pain. She suffers. She is  in pain. so not fair. I don't want her to be in pain. WHy does she need to go through this? "
I wanna be there with her. I wanna ease her pain.
I guess she is much better in that than me. She is one of the strongest, the most independent women I know. She is incredible. But this hurts. I know how much It hurts and how it hurts.
I lost two of my the dearest friends (one suicide and one cancer) in a matter of two years and there is not even one day I would now think of them. Sometimes it is easy and life just is there, but sometimes it is more difficult and I wonder how would life be if they were still alive?But love for mom is different love and it probably hurts different. and I don't wanna miss a moment when she needs me. And I don't know how to be a good friend.
I will pray for the strength.

again, on a personal, selfish note....I don't know why this seem to be the pattern.
It is scary how many people related to my life, committed suicide. It has been happening all the way since the primary school.
My, at that time, best friend's (the same friend who died last year herself) father hung himself. Then my classmate's father too. In the high school someone I hung out with committed suicide after my birthday party!At uni my friend's father threw himself under the train.
Then Marusa my dearest ended up her life. Now my bestfriends mom.
Counting those faces like this is so spooky I know it is not a game "Who knows more people that committed suicide..." but my point it.....I struggle with eating disorders big time and there is no reason for me to live also, still. most of the time. But people areound me are dying. Why? Whats the case? I am so freakign afraid tha my father is next.
My point is I guess: The world does not take depressions serious enough. It is a serious condition that kills so many people.
Yet no-one really talks about it!

Look around you!
People suffer!
People need help. But people don't talk about their emotions in an honest way. People are afraid because other people judge.
It is wrong to talk about real emotions in this society.
And so lives are slowly shutting off.
In front of our eyes.

Yet we care more about free wifi and Iphones and latest fashion and similar shit.

Can you grasp?
Can you understand?
Can you see through?

If I had a magic power I would give people a courage to be honest with their emotons and not afraid of sharing them with the world. I would make talking about emotions accepted by society and safe.

Now you have higher chance to get away with a murder than to get away with talking about how you feel.





Peace to all who left.






Monday, August 18, 2014

Bulimia life vs. Real life

I have been trying hard to redirect my compoulsive thinking.
When I start overthinking I am suppose to go into my body!
Sometimes I do that and sometimes I don't.
My therapist says that just to aknowledge your overthinking and then ask yourself "where is my body?" and just feel your body. As soon as you are aware of your body, the heavines of your entire body, there is no room for thinking anymore.
Sometimes you get to feel your legs only, or arms, or just a face....but even if you feel just a part of your body, the thinking gets blurier. More of your body you are aware of the quetest your mind is.
It is amaying how beautifully this works and it sounds easy, but it isnt. At least to me, I find it difficult. Therefore there is so many moments when I just let my mind take control over and does its own shit. Compulsive thinking is going on. It sucks. It really sucks.
It seems so real. It even flicks some images into your head.
So, I either overthink or I am numb.
I prefer numbness though. But numbness is dangerous. Numbness leads to decisions such as vomiting, binging, starving, comiting suicide...

There is not one minute of my day (in hours that is about 4 hours or more a day) when I spend thinking about my two friends who disappointed me.
I can understand the fact that she doesn't like me that much and in real world I dont even have much of a problem with letting people go. I have always believed that if there is no good mutual energy---move on! One does not need anyone who makes you sad,worry, anxious etc. Friend, boyfriend, aunite, cousin... let go if the friendship doesn't serve you any longer.
But! ---- I live two lives. And one is run my my mind. And so, in the bulimia life it ain't easy to let go. In my bulimia world I don't understand the natural selection of friends----some come and some go. In my real life on the other heand I strongly believe that there is a reason for each person that comes into your life that came. Either they are there to teach you something/help you overcome certain difficuly or they are there to stay and be supportive with your happiness and sadness on daily bases.
I obviously hit the friendship where this person is not meant to be my true friend. Which is ok. I learned a lot from her and because of her I was brave enough to do some things, their relationship situation was all this time the same as ours just always a step ahead which was always very encouraging... Like, i can see clearly why we befriended. I can see it and I can understand it.
BUT!
In my bulimia life I different. I dont understand anything. I just cry. I ache. I suffer. I overthink.
The mind is yelling so loud: "You are worth nothing! If you were worth just anything this would not happen! If you were perfect this would not happen. She would hold to the friendship with you. She would go beyond herself because it would be worth putting effort into our friendship. BUt like this you are pathetic, boring, useless and worhtless piece of shit. Shame on you!" This makes me cry. Sometimes makes me numb. I escape. But Most of the time it makes me suffer.
I always thought I am too strict with my friends and my expectations are way too high. Now I think: Yes, my expectations are very high but to my defens...my time is precious and I aint waisting it for a bullshit! Ever! So if you are my friend be a good friend otherwise I dont need you! But it isn't about me wanting my friends to be perfect-----I let them breathe. And more I recover better friend I am. I can see the difference. I am more patiente and I am camer. I am better listener. I am more reliable and I am more flexible. I understand that they can't be all over me, in fact it does not even suit me it they are. I dont believe firends have to be together everyday. I believe we all have to have space and it is about the feeling, about the energy when we meet after two, three, four weeks of not being together-----how does the reunion feel? Are we close or time set us apart?With good friends I feel close. I am more real and I am honest friend.
So I am not unbearable.
BUt I have such high expectations for me! If they don't call it is because I stink. Because I suck and because I am pathetic. If they are a bit strange when we meet it is because I am boring and lame. If anything happenes to our friendship or time together it is because I am the strange one and not worth hanging out with. Friendship is nothing natural for me in my bulimia life. I believe everyone is against me and is trying to hurt me. People are not sencere with me in my world. No-one cares! Literally no-one cares! That is one of the most painful beliefs. I believe no-one loves me. Literally no-one. I believe it so strongly that this is my only truth!! There is no other options even. They just don't love me. They use me but they don't love me.
I remember my therapist telling me-----"If they give you a reason to feel that way then talk to them but if they don't give you any reasons to feel that way then it is your issue from the past, something else is waking up and coming out. Go to your body and deal with it."
That is what she told me to do but I don't do it everytime. Because I believe it so badly that I don't distinguish between ----them being the reason to feel that way------and them being the reason to wake up shit from my past. So I let it be and I live that way. It is my only truth. I see people doing nice things to me, calling me, messaging me, visiting me.....but I don't believe in that. That does not come through all the layers bulimia has set up for me to isolate me from the reality. From the real life. Nothing comes in. I don't even see that my husband love me deeply. In my mind even my husband is just afraid of leaving me. If he was sure I would not fall apart he would leave me. Even my parents don't love my. They just care because I am their daughter. Not more. Friends have no chance of getting any credits. Everyone is against me and I honestly believe I am the worst creature on the planet. not just saying it to sound dramatic, i really, trully believe that. That I am the ugliest, there is no uglier person. The most disgusting and the strangest person, the only human being who is not worth of any bit of love. It is just me and selfhate. Endless selfhate!
 In my bulimia life I am fat and unattractive and no-one loves me.
In my real life I don't care about my size as long as I take care of my self with the way I eat, think and move my body.
In my real life I feel love and I see how beautiful the Nature is. I see through the pain of people. I care about people and I don't envy and I don't hate people for having a good life and skinny legs.
I listen music more and music makes me happy. I do yoga with no intention of losing weight. I practice my recoverying well and work with my emotions. I appriciate beaty, art and tidy apartment. I appreciate flowers and plants (These are the second on my list of hate. The first are skinny people.)
I talk to the strangers, i wear nice make up and I dress up nice. I keep my window open and I appreciate rain and sun. I don't complain in my real life. I don't waste time on facebook and I don't compare myself to others. In my real life I am grateful. I am a very grateful person infact. I pray. Yes, in my real life I pray and I am very spiritual person. Cooking is an art for me and I believe in talking and comunicating. I believe that the world could only be healed if people started talking about their emotions to eachother honeslty! Even if that means they have to admit they were wrong. I believe in the power of now when I live in my real life. I believe thinknig is useless. I believe that we are all smart and all capable of succeeding. I believe we can all recover and we can all wake up. I also believe in expressing yourself is a good way. Expressing it through art and way of living. I believe tattoos are attractive and music should be played loud. I believe there is NOTHING wrong with dancing on a street and I believe that street art should be supported by everyone. I believe that homeless people are cool and that having a cup of tea with a stranger on a street is more spiritual and liberating than a lunch with a friend. I believe one day I will write a book and that one day my parents will fall inlove again and I believe that love can cure absolutely anything. In my real life I am calmer and dont judge. I don't hate and I deal with my grumpiness. I help those who need help and I talk openly about bulimia and my recovery. I don't hide who I am. On the other side in my bulimia life I deny myself and I dont take care of myself. I hate and I judge. I want all the people to be wrong and bad. I can't stand if someone is just fine and I can't see his mistakes that easily. I hate that. In my bulimia life I don't believe in love and I believe that skinny people are better people. i believe that active people are stronger peolpe. I believe that some people deserve to suffer and I live of people's miserableness. People's imperfection and struggles bring peace to me. i don't like when people get new things in my bulimia life. I don't like Nature. I don't cook and I don't hear music. Nothing smells nice in my bulimia life and I am restless all the time. I act strange. I compare myself to others non stop and I sleep poorly. I am afraid all the time and angry most of my time. I look down when I walk the streets and I don't meet my friends. Everything is pointless. I complain all the time. I am cranky all the time and I give my husband a lot of shit every day. I whine and I complain and I look for things that he does wrong so I can freak out and blame him for the way I feel. I live in consant fear of not being good enough and not being worth anything. I waste hours and hours refreshing facebook and looking other peolpes profiles and projecting the perfection on them and hate myself for not being the way they are. In my bulimia life i play a game where I take a face of one person, neck of another, arms of the third, and fingers of the fourth person. Boobs and shoulders of the sixth and seventh and the belly of the eigth one. Hips of the ninth person and tights of the tenth person then calfs and feet of the eleventh and twelfth person and the toes of the thirtheenth one. Style of another 6 people and the attitude of 4 extra people. then I belnd it all together and then that I wanna be me.
Because I can't reach that perfeciton, I suffer and hate myself and blame myself for it.

In real life I am nicer and better person.






Thursday, August 14, 2014

Discovering 'Mind'


I have been very restless.
I am like bipolar of a bipolar.
Its insanely tiring.
I am empty, then I am angry, then I am fat, then I get it, then I lose it, then I feel it, then I cry, then I laugh, then I sleep, then I am nervous, then I am blessed, then I am worried, then I am brave, then I am ugly, then I am worthless, then I am afraid, then I am faithful, then I am happy, then I am loved, then I am not present, then I am frustrated, then I am restless, then I am tired, then I am lazy, then I am hungry, then I am thirsty, then I have cravings, then I am compared, then I am sad, then the voices are just too much, then I am empty again.

For fuck's sake I cant do it right.
I   was walking a lot, but in no time the voices used it against me. Walking became losing weight. I needed to stop it. Immediately. I stopped it. I didn't walk that much. Not walking became a torture because the voices are screaming I am so lazy and I will end up being a giant piece of poo!
Then I cry because it is so hard to take such torture.
It is the worst form of a torture I know.
It hurts my entire body. It causes a sever pain all over my body. I get cramps all over my body. My kidney starts hurting. I get a sever headache, my mussels shrink and the pain in my entire body is like someone was kicking me for half an hour. It is like I might not be able to take it.
Then I remember to pay attention to this pain and my body speaks.
After I get myself together it all makes sense. I understand my condition and I understand life. I understand I should wait with my activities because I do them from a wrong reason. When I find this peace, bulimia freaks out again and its yelling at me telling me I am the only one who does not exercise and the rest of the entire world exercise each and every day. I believe it. it tells me I will never be beautiful if I don't exercise.
I just cant win the battle in my head.

Then for few next minutes I live normal life. I suggest we go to town. I dress up. I even keep the vices quite while dressing up. I mean not really quite, they speak "Fat! Fat! Fat! Ugly!" but I somehow ignore them. I put make up on (I even went to town with no make up, that is odd and new) and off we go. In town we sit down and the sun shines.
Ta-daaa!!! Freak out!
" Your so white. She is so brown. Now from now on you better bring your ass here very day and ten yourself. You are ugly."
Where the fuck does that come from I have no idea, but it controls my mood.
I try to go to my body, I try to feel it and I try to be present, just like my therapist told me to do. It actually works when I can make it, but most of the time I still drown in overthinking.
When I spend so much time in my head living my second life I don't have a feeling when and what to eat. So I find it hard to be hungry. "You shouldn't eat. You should skip your meal. Cmon, lose 5 kg, so you will be as beatuful as she is." I don't lose this fight because if not myself then my husband makes me have my meal.
When I am compulsively thinking, I am not myself. My tights are like double size and my but too. I don't really know how do I look like. I feel like a woman size 46/48, on good days 44.
I am 36, jeans 38. 

The worst are the moments when I don't feel anything.
Those are not really promising. I have nothing to lean on. It can go on and on for days. I look around and see nothing, feel nothing, smell nothing. I don't even think about anything. My head is empty, and so is my heart.
And those empty moments always bring a tornado.
It got very, very tiring.
There is tiny part of me that cant wait for the school to start so I get busy with other crap not my own one for all the time.

Sometimes I live a nice and good life.
we hang out with our friends. some Italian people. We are very, very blessed to have them in our lives. they know how to live. They are there for us, with us.
They celebrate life. They live. And so we celebrate life with them and we live life with them.
When we meet I always dress a  bit nicer. When we hang out with them we usually end up having a dinner with some general directors or with former Slovene president. Its kind of an experience. ANd I like that about our lives. We live small, hippie life, but we have whole spectrum of friends. And I enjoy it. My point is, I go out.
But when we meet those people there is always lots of food involved.
And I struggle when we have to eat because I still find it difficult to eat outside my schedule.
 But it is also very difficult to sit at the same table with people whose socializing goes through food and just drink tap water. I get punished everytime for eating outside.

But however, when I am with them, I am present.
I like life. I like myself. I like my husband. I like our friends. The time with them is always so cheerful and exciting. We share stories and we learn a lot from eachoter. In the beginning I believed we cannot have deeper friendship because we are not same kind of people and we have nothing to talk about......I mean seriously I am a teacher with bulimia who loves yoga and art and they are people whose business language I cant even understand.
But now that we actually befriended I think differently. I think we need eachother. They need people like we are to see life from a small person's perspective and we need them to see how life is from their perspective. And I always believed we cant share much with them but now when we meet there is soooo many stories we can share and we make all the friends happy and they forget about their boring financial world. It is a nice group of friends and I am happy. I opened myself completely to them and I don't avoid them. But this is easier because they are like a new, fresh start.
Like I can present them the new Natasa. Which is so refreshing. There is no luggage I carry when I am with them.  So I guess it is healing. I welcomed few new friends this year.

And some of them I admired before we befriended, and now I call them friends.

You lose one you gain two.

On the other hand I am hooked with people who turned out not to be my friends.
And I just cannot let got of them.
There is a friend of mine who I thought she is my friend.
ok, not that naively I did see how her passion for our friendship was cooling down.
we met through our partners. she is my husbands friend's wife and in the beginning we were hanging out even without our partners. She would drive 60 km to see me and I would do the same.
Then next thing I remember they were both visiting quite often and we visited them on regular bases. then next next thing I remember she started leaving after 45 minutes but she would let him stay over the night so him and my husband would hang out. but us, all four of us, was over.
I remember asking her once what is going on, if she has a problem with me and she assured she doesn't. Then she would never join us, like she was always busy with something, like her aunite was visiting, or her brother, or she was busy with her own activities. It was quite sad to realize that our friendship is changing but I did not want to believe it.
it was obvious but I didn't want to believe it.

Then they got pregnant and it got worst. She did not even stay at our wedding. I wanted to believe it is because their baby was 2 weeks old, but they knew all the way they will come with a new born child so they booked a room in a hotel next the venue and they even brought her auntie to help them our with the baby. She left after the ceremony and she did not tell us before. Which I found very nasty since she got married herself and she was broke her self so she new herself how annoying it is if you have to pay fr someone that is not there. She did not care.
But I gave her some credits. We visited them after and the visit was ok. She was nice. she was never not nice. I invited them for a visit and for a weeked away, still waiting for an answer, have been three weeks now. I see her online so I know she does have time to message us back letting us know it will not work out. She ignores us. And it hurts. I am hooked. Now because of her attitude--- I am obsessed with her. The mind is comparing me to her.  The mind made her perfect. Literally perfect!
And it tortures me with her. Because of her "I don't really care about you" attitude she seems strong and independent. Strong and confident is what I want so I hate her for that.
In fact she simply doesn't care is she is not a good friend, simple as that, but her attitude is a good food for my bulimia.
I cant let go. It seems like all I have to is I have to forget about her but I don't know why I cannot do that. Ever day, day after day I torture myself with her. She is so much better than me. Because she is confident.
I cried to my husband and he said he has noticed the change in the friendship also, and he says he is sad too, but it is their loss if they don't wanna hang out with us. He told me that she obviously stopped putting an effort into our friendship when she decided they are not moving to new Zealand them selves. So she does not need to work on our friendship because she doesn't need me.
It makes sense. She simply does not need me. It does not even mean she does not like me, it just means she does not need me and she is not willing to invest anything into our friendship if she doesn't get any benefits out of it. Why would she?

I seem to be a very easy prey for people this kind.
My mind is so sick that I get hooked. I let their attitude be my torture.
Its kind of painful. And it seems so hard to let go....
I glorify them.  I glorify them.  I glorify them big time.
Just because they are kind of close and I kind of care, and because they have an attitude like they are looking at me from above.
I look up and I glorify them.  And I don't know how to stop!

I have people  that love me, sincere people, investing in the friendship. But they come second. First there come those two people who don't even care about me if it is not for their own benefits.

I pray to the Universe to give me the strength to accept the fact that we are not real friends and let go of it.

I will be ok.

I am just not Ok at the moment.
It is hard.

I have to live minute by minute otherwise it is too crowded.

So much pain coming out. So much pain to deal with.
Sometimes I find myself feeling grateful for my bulimia because because of bulimia I am going through hard core rehab which is making me a better person. A deeper person. A calmer person. More awake and more real. It brings hope.
Then I find myself feeling like a crap because of bulimia. I feel like I am a weirdo. I feel like I should be punished. I am not patient and I wanna change everything I am.
I am not patient with my body, with my rehab, with my behaving.....I hate everything about myself and I hate everyone who has anything I want for myself.


In situations like this I am suppose to go into my body and see what is going on. Deal with it. Let it speak and more on.
Some things take ages to come out in a form that could be dealt with. It takes months and months, some months turn into a year. But it still happens. Everything happens. Everything comes out when it is ready to be healed. But to be patient with that's whole another story.
last week I didn't feel like going into my body at all. Like It was such relief when I passed it. Like "Uf, so cool. rest!!!No drama, no emotions, no feeling, no crying, no body pain....emptiness only!" Not good for my progress but it really felt good. It is like I am super tired from working so much with myself.
Then yesterday I had my therapy and I worked hard again. I met new places. New darkness. New emotions. New tricks my mind plays. I was with it. I observed. I dealt with.
I left the therapy tired but strong. At peace. Present. Better. Bigger. Stronger. It was almost like I could not wait for the next time I will go into those dark places and explore what's up in there. Because every time I go there I feel stronger afterwards.
it feels Like I can do it. I can recover. I can live my life my way. I am fearless.

Until my mind kicks in again.


I progressed enough to distinguish between self and mind.
That is very helpful and promising.

I could never distinguish between the voices and mind. Mind and self. Self and voices. It was always one thing. I called it me. That was me. I was my voices. I was my crazy mind. I was my father talking from a back of my mind. I was my pain from my childhood. I was my fears. I was my anger. I was my hate.
But now I can see there is me, and then beside that, there is my voices, my mind.
I now can experience a bit of a healthy self. When I experience it Life is just different.
I feel alright. I don't mind my legs. I don't feel gorgeous but I don't feel bad either. I don't mind my belly nor my face. I don't mind my size. I pay little attention to it. I shower daily. I take care of myself daily. When I go out I put some effort into make up and clothing. I feel good. Or more it is like I feel fine with myself. I control my voices when they arise. When they tell me I shouldn't drink wine and I should look more like that friend I met or more like a random lady on a street. I control it. I feel my body and I belong to the moment. I am more at peace. I think differently about myself. I am never full of my self and I don't feel particularly confident or great. It is not about that it is just about living that moment the way it is. When I go to the yoga mat I have noticed the change.....I am oddly calmer and more patient with myself  ... I have been kind of on and off with my practice this summer and the voices would eat me alive everytime I skipped the practice for a week if only they could, but when there is the healthy self present I step on my yoga mat and I am very slow. I don't push myself. I am very, very gentle with myself. I do my postures slow and do just the easy ones. I don't rush. which is very, very, very unusual for me. Sometimes it takes me to a full practice and I sweat and I challenge myself, but sometimes I finish after 10 minutes, feeling better than before. This is unusual.
I have noticed the change when I am PMSing. I bloat quite obviously and my mind gets mental when am PMSing. but lately I have noticed that I recognise my PMS and I am very gentle with myself, again. I don't skip meals like the mind orders me. I tell my mind "I am hormonally messed up now, it is normal that I feel that way, you back off. I am taking my body to bed now." I shower and I shave when I am PMSing to make myself feel at least a little bit better. Usually I make myself a hot bath and I cry. Because I am feeling fat and unattractive. But it is all controlled. I cry while I take care of my body. I light the candles and I listed to the music more during my PMS. Its so unusual. 
This my my healthy self.
I experience it more and more. It started appearing in around april, may. So this is a new thing. And it would appear for brief moments, then few minutes, now it can be present for up to 30 minutes. Sometimes a few times a day.

Then there is the mind. The ruler. The empire. My second life. 
My mild schizophrenia .
My mind is my very dark, cold, loud place.
In that world there is only one rule: You do what I say!!
And can only say one thing: You suck! There is no end to in how many ways it can show me I suck.
My mind is evil.
It is like living with a psychopath!
It is mean.
It wants me to suffer every single moment I spend on this planet.
It hates me. 

Back in worst times I did not recognize my mind. It was all me. It was all just one reality! 
They say that Mind Lies to you. I still cant get my head around that. I still believe he is telling the truth. But now I at least recognize it.

Together with the mind there are also voices from my father. From my mother. 
Those were also very difficult to spot. I learned I have those about year ago, I could tell "Oh there is bulimia talking and there is my parents talking" but I would never try and work with the "parents voices" .... until now.... getting rid of my parents voices is terrible. It is like taking all their power  and smashing it into nothing. My parents with no power are just people. And They are not my powerful parents anymore. And I cant live without my parents. I need my mommy, I need my daddy!
I still turn into a little girl not ready to let go of the "parents voices". It seems impossible. 
I am doing waaaaay better that I used to do, but there is still that emotion inside me, that sensation, feeling like everything will fall apart if I let go.
It is that image I hold in my head they are my creators, they are the source of power.  They are everything. Loosing that image would mean a disaster to me. Nothing else can be real. They are the only truth. And the same I am experiencing with the people I wrote before about. The friend who doesn't actually care but I am hooked, and another one like this and my boss.
I cant let go of them.
My mind does not let me go of them because it would lose its power. It needs those people to torture me with them. If I trust in a life beyond my parents and those other toxic people I am almost cured.

I hold of those images like they are my only meaning of survival.
If I let go I die.

Do I really die or does my sick mind die? My sick mind has a name. Bulimia.
Does I die or does mind die?

What will happen to me? To I?

I have my suspicions....I think I would be just fine.















MIND

Monday, July 28, 2014

No spark

I have been married for a month and I have been depressed for two months now.
I just don't feel well.
Most of the time i am not present, I live outside my mind and my body or I spend lots of time in my head only, listening to the voices.
I have gotten some rhythm and so I am good with going into my body, but I sstruggle regardless.
Its hard.
I wake up empty. Its summer and I have been setting up the alarm so i wake up early because i have realized that if i sleep for too long then i have zero chance to have a present day. I wake up so worn out and I don't know who I am and I hate myself and the voices are so loud and i am super hard core bulimic and I am unbearable to be around with.
So I started getting up early and so I can handle my voices and I am sort of more present, probably because the world is not so chaotic until nine o'clock, and my husband is asleep still so I have some privacy and I can do things slow.  This way I get at least one hour of a present condition in a day even if I lose myself soon after the mid morning, around 10am.
We are broke at the moment, keeping our money for our Africa trip, so we don't do wild things, we mostly just hang around , walk a lot, cook a lot, watch TV a lot and this week, we don't hang out with people because I don't want to see anyone.
It might be that the depression is dictating the social life but it just feels soooooo good not to be with people.
People make me sick because either they make me sick with how closed minded they are or they make me sick because I compare myself to them and they wake up darkness inside me.
I feel uncomfortable around people lately,I feel fat and unattractive and I feel worthless and useless. So this is a week without people and its so restful.
The down side is that I get bored sometimes and then that is what wakes up the voices anyway, so I must deal with it anyway, but still....
I am also PMSing at the moment which is never fun and this is why I think I am enjoying having people free week. I am bloated and I have pimples and my skin is oily and I don't like. mmy face and my body is just so heavy and my head is wild.
I feel sick a lot and I don't like wearing anything that is tight on me yet at the same time I don't like wearing shorts and I don't like anything that shows my skin.
I am disgusted by my appearance.
I worry I will gain weight because I an not so active, and my mind has a capability of ignoring the fact that we have been walking three times for two hours this week (just because we are bored ) and I have done some yoga. That doesn't matter, the jury in my head said I am lazy and I do nothing.
Then I worry I eat too much because I don't know how much I eat. In conditions like this I don't know how much I eat.
But yet at the same time I have been good and I went into my body three times this week. In a perfect world I would need to go into my body like three times a day, it works but my mind is still just too strong.
But I can tell how much it helps me to be good with going into my body, it really does make a difference and now after more than three years of the therapy my body kind of asks for it so I end up going into the body every Thursday no matter how I feel because it is body that got used to it....Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday and Sunday.
But it is very difficult for me to accept that I am trying soooooooo soooo soooooo hard and I get so little out.
This is the difficult side of the rehab. You squeeze a very juicy orange and you just get a drop out.
But if you keep on working on yourself you get rewarded , you do. I got rewarded just now........ Have been depressed but it is just easier for me to recognize it, accept it and deal with it. And that is a nice reward.
The worst are the voices! Jeezs lord, I could calmly lie and watch TV , seem to be present and OK, when the voices attack me from almost nowhere, they call me names, they bulky me, tell me I am worthless, make me guilty because I don't give myself to my husband , tell me stuff like......every couple has absolutely wild sex once a day, going on for about 15to 30 minutes. . . . . such and such never ever lies down during the day, she/he (in my case is actually always she. And usually a particular firend)...she is ALWAYS active and she swims for about 3 hours a day, does Pilate's for an hour and horse rides for 3 hours then she reads books, cleans etc. Every day.
Then it tells me that such and such is more interesting and her/his IQ is 140 plus, and I am the dumb one. It tells me that everyone, absolutely everyone with no exceptions like her style and the way she talk,walk and live life. It tels me that she has no cellulite and her stomach is flat and she is the cleanest person and funny and never ever, I mean it,never ever boring nor bored.
It tells me that I live a pathetic life and that I have no sense for whatever style.
And I believe each and every word my voices tell me.
And that is why I suffer because I believe in perfection that the voices create in my head. I believe it.

Who I am doesn't matter, it is worth nothing comparing to others. My leggings loom old, my shirt doesn't fit, my hair looks lame, my nails are gross, my feet are outrageously ugly, the choice of jewlary is lame, the set up of my living room is  without the spark, my entire life is without the spark. And everyone but me has a spark.
 Everyone lives their life like on a red carpet and I live mine under the bridge. This is the comparison.
And I am known as an artist, living full and creative life, but now.....I fail when my mind judges me.

It isolates me and makes sure I feel lonely.
Unwanted.

If I can understand that everyone decorates his life his own way then I can one understand one thing for sure ..... That I have something to offer.

But this time there is one thing that is different.....this time I am trying, and I am trying from the inside, I am trying for my own self.
I wanna live. I wanna feel. Me! Natasa. Not for the sake of my marriage, or my friends, or my job, but me. I want to be better. I want to live life to the fullest and do extraordinary things. . .
I wanna be well.
I like when I am happy and lately I can tell I am feeling better than ever, because when there is a thunderstorm I get happy like a child who sees the sea for the first time, I cry when I see how our herbs are sprouding and growing in front of my eyes, it is something so amazingly beautiful and hopeful. I go wooooooooow !!!!! Look at that!!!!!!!!! With an endless amazement when I see how juicy peaches grown in the public garden. And I feel like dancing when I go to the supermarket and I see how much cool stuff they are selling. It is amazing. You can be whoever you want, so many cool stuff.

Yet I believe there is no life in me.





Friday, July 25, 2014

Food

Bulimia. Food.
You think of bulimia you think of food. Food in or food out. Food is what you think of.
Food is a drug in bulimia. It is the addiction part.

There is statistic that says that average bulimic in 45 minutes eats as much food as a healthy grown up in 3 days!
That was always such scary information for me, but looking back, yes. In one binge I could eat all the food my brother and his partner set up for their weekend away!

I never ate normally. Food woke up all the emotions since I remember. Since I was lets say seven or eight. I remember comparing myself to my size small friend when I was seven(ish). And back then it was different than today, at least for where I grew up, in the village, where diets were never trendy. The village I grew up in is the village you wold imagine when you think of a place in the mountains, 20 minutes drive to some of the civilization, 30 minutes to town. 600 people living in the village, living a village life. Fashion did not make even close to us. Latest died trends never came a bit close to us either. Beauty? Whats that?  Put on your yesterdays hoodie and sweat pants, forget about make up and manicure. The only beauty deed we did were long walks.
I see today 4, 5, 6 year old girls talking about diets, talking about healthy food, worrying about their dessert, bulling their friends who happen to be bigger size than them (not unhealthy big, just bigger comparing to the bully) ... And I know it is all coming from their mothers who worry nothing but about beauty, cellulite, make up, healthy food, diets ..... that is their mothers main topic. It hurts me so much. it breaks my heart when I see how harsh they are on their children and how they are passing on bad habits and how in many cases they plant a seed of an eating disorders. It is sad.
But my life was not like this.
My troubled environment never reached over my family property. I grew up in healthy environment and I was never bullied by my friends or people living in the same village. Never. But what was happening behind my family's gates, that's another story.
My mom ran a hotel and so we always ate very, very good and rich food. My mom was obsessed with diets and so was my dad. They would tell me I am chubby and randomly suggested to go on a diet. My mom and dad have been dieting for the last 20 yeast. My dad is obese and my mom is ok, no need in losing any weight but she still does the crash diets once every two to three months.
My parents were never around. They both worked 12+ hour shifts but then they were around, we were fighting and dieting. That's what I remember from my childhood, not worth mentioning it is still the same way. Just that the fighting grew over the years and they got more and more sick, my dad developed serious mental condition, he suffers from depressesion and   he has huge anger management problems. Those are getting worst and he is getting physical too. He would always abuse us verbally. threatening always to kill us and harm us, but never did anything life threatening though. But he would tell my brother and my mother often that he will kill them. He always said that he will stab them with a knife. He told me quite often he will kill me too. but I was never afraid he will actually do such thing, but I was always afraid he will commit suicide. But now I am at the stage where I am afraid he will hurt my mom. He hurt my mom the other day. He snapped. In a minute time. With me in a house. He grabbed her by her neck. My mom screamed. Now I am afraid. But they are "fine" now. So scary!
but is it really my place to worry about them?
I am done with being abused. I gave a lot of myself to them, to that family to torture me and use me for their own mental problems. I should be done with that!!

However, the environment I grew up in, my family, was never healthy and never will be.
I can stay at my parents place for few hours only.

Here at home, here is a different story.
This is my home. Here I am safe.
Here I can work with myself. here I can let the emotions come out. it is safe enough and then I can deal with them.

Here, here I cook a lovely food and each and every single time I cook and then actually eat my meal enjoying it to bits I am AMAZEEEED!!
I enjoy food more than anything sometimes. I love food.

When I started with the rehab I was told I will soon start eating normally and I was told that there is quite common that recovered bulimics/anorectics become real gurmans. I was just like yah whatever, not me, that's for sure.
I could not picture myself being fine with one meal (out of five that the recovery team was aiming for for me, for us all in  the group) ..
but  soon after a beginning I got one normal meal, then two, then three, then four, then five.
Now, after 3 years of rehab I eat 5 times a day, every day!
When I am out of the balance, I carry my snacks in my purse. I never skip meal (when I skip meal I feel unwell and it wakes up voices still) and now for the last 6 months I started blooming in kitchen. You would not believe but I love cooking, I love smells, I love flavours, I love colors, I love experimenting. I cook everyday!! Every single day! I cook good too!
Cooking turned out to be my passion. My great passion. My brother often invites himself for a dinner just to eat my food. My friends got used to it. They actually ask me to cook for them just because they like it so much. I like what I cook. I like the way it tastes. It is like dancing for me. It is like art. I out so much of myself in cooking and the best bit of it is that this is also how I have a control over the food I eat. I am not obsessed with heathy food and bio and eco food but truth to be told I like to know what I in my meal and with me cooking myself I can control the ingredients and adjust them to my daily mental condition.  
It works for me.
Since therapy I lost about 15 kg with the way I eat, no diets!! Just getting well! and My liver and kidney and blood are saved. I saved them with food. with good regular eating. (and therapies and meds).
I am just trying to encourage you, I guess.
I inspire my own self when I cook well and eat well and enjoy it and when I see how much I benefit.
And I would have never thought I will ever, ever, ever in a history of ever feel that way about food.
When I eat poorly I start feeling fat and disgusting (I feel fat and disgusting anyway, but then way more and way stronger) . The voices are awake, telling me if only I could keep skipping meals I would lose weight. telling me I will get super fat if I finish that meal/.
The worst ones are when I am not hungry at all but it is still my eating time.
Oh boy those are loud. Telling me I am a fat bitch, and now I will be fat because I ate when I didn't need to. I eat one yogurt or a glass of milk. just something. Or one cookie. Something super small but I enver skip meals. It is sooooooooooooooooooooooo hard to do so sometimes but I manage it because now I am well enough to know that no matter how much it hurts now, I will feel better later.
This thinking has happened recently. Few months ago.
This strength came few months ago. Sometimes my husband and I have a date and then we eat junk. we open bag of crisps and eat chicken noughts and drink bear. I hope I don't sound like this is very easy for me....oh boy it isn't. I would still have proper break downs almost every time I try to be so spontaneous and "just live" (I call it "just living") .... it doesn't work easily for me.
But then lately I would have a break down and date with my husband afterwards. And I drink beer with the voices in my head and they threaten me I will get fat with every bite I take and if the voices are very loud then I just have a glass of beer and add some veges or manipulate for a bit, but I don't just quit and stop eating and drinking.
It is a constant fight but somewhere on the way it got manageable. Its inspiring.
It has been happening lately that I would really not want to work with my emotions because the rehab got so difficult but somehow I do it. I make myself do it. I don't know how. I guess after three years of trying somewhere it has to be seen. So I do it. I go into my body. I feel. I make myself feel. I make myself suffer and be with the pain my body is letting out. I observe it. I observe some more. I am with it. Then after the 30 to 45 minutes of my "body pain meditation" (this is how I call it, my therapist tells me just to go into my body) and I am in HUGE, sometimes unbearable pain. I learned to be gentle with myself in those moments. I give myself a break. it takes about 15-30 minutes to get myself together. Sometimes I take shower and that helps. Once I am steady and feeling better, I feel strong and present and guess what: I get HUNGRY!!!
My appetite is beautiful. My cravings are absolutely liberating!!
I am sooooo free!! So free from "You are getting fat! You are fat! Oh my god you will be fat! You are the fattest you have every been! jeezs, look at your thighs, Look at your fat belly. Oh fuck, you so fat! "

I am free from those!
I am free from: "If you eat now you will be worth less. Oh wait, you are worth nothing anyway. She would for sure not eat that, she is strong and you are weak. Oh you stinky piece of shit you are so worth nothing and you are the worst. Comparing to her you are so fat and useless.. She would never do this. Your choices are so lame because you are nobody. She is so much better. You stink...."
I am free from those too!

I let mu husband hold me and touch me.
Kiss me.

My life is hopeful and so, so, so promising!

Everything makes sense in those moments.
Even my suffering.....
My bulimia....oh yah, that one makes the most beautiful sense!

Everything is ok.
Life is ok!
I will be ok!
We will all be ok ...


For about a few months now I have been feeling FAITHFUL!
And this is so liberating.
To have some safe place to go when everthing falls apart because of my bulimia condition. When My head gets the most mental of all times.
It is liberation to have something to go to.....It is my body. It is my "body pain meditation" that brings hope!
Brings appetite too!

It brings one of the most tasteful recipes.

Today for example I made "Natasa curry" for lunch.
This is how I call it.
I take some chicken, 4 pieces lol (three for my husband and one for me)
I used coco oil today.
I grill it quickly for about 8 minutes both sides, then I take it out and use the same oil to  fry some onions and carrots. Then I add some potatoes and cauliflower and fresh tomatoes. add curry and some white wine and let it cook for about 15 minutes for alcohol to evaporate. then I added tomato sauce and let it all boil together and then I add the chicken and let it cook for about 30 to 45 minutes so it gets all very soft.
I made some kus kus with and it was delicious.
Kind of simple but it is a real food and we both loved it.

Leftovers will be my second lunch not at 4 and for dinner I will grab some fresh veges and tuna perhaps. For breakfast I still eat piece of bread with butter and jam/honey and coffee with milk.

yesterday our lunch was home made pizza. also eaten in two pieces. I eat everything. Pizza was made with white flour, tuna, cheese, salami etc.
Now I have a good feeling most of the time for how big my portions are. Some days I just feel like eating more......it takes ages and many many breakdowns to let myself have an extra, but sometimes I win. Some times I have enough of a faith that I have an extra and trust I am not a bad person because it. but this voice is still very present! Oh well.

I never thought I will say so  but Food is so healing.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Natasa G in da house

I am home alone because my husband went surfing to Portugal with his bud from New Zealand.

Surprisingly a lot of people asked how come am fine with this?
Newly married and he just takes off like this.

Yah, we just got married but he hates me, he hates spending time with me, so he took of.
really people?
Don't you think if we did it this way its probably working for us.
now zip it!

I "let" him go because it is rare occasion when I can proof to him how much I really love him.
Bulimia is super selfish illness.
It is all about me me me!
Me struggling. Me suffering. Me breaking down. Me progressing. Me yelling. Me crying. Me feeling insecure. Me not making love. Me therapy. Stay here for me.

As long as I have bulimia, I cant love him selflessly and give him unconditional love.
This is how I know he is the one, because he has so much knowledge about mental health and he is so down to earth he knows how to protect himself.
WHen I lose it, he hugs me and tells me: Babe it is time for you to go into your body. I will go out for a walk and will meet you at home in 30 minutes time. I love you!
He goes.
I deal with my emotions.
Not to mention I lose if for couple of more times, not wanting to be controlled, not wanting to be told what to do. Not wanting to be left alone.
But it is the only way.
Him being removed from the situation gives him a chance to keep calm and like he says, be a good partner. otherwise it gets overwhelming and no matter how patient he is, he could lose it too and start yelling back at me.
According to him and my therapist, this is not the way relationship should work.
Arguments are good and healthy, dealing with the differences, but yelling at eachother and fighting big time it No NO!
I never understood it and I know majority of people don't understand it, but now I know this is true and this is the only way to keep love and respect going.
Otherwise it is just too easy to hate your partner, and many people don't even realize it is not the partner that they hate often is the situation they hate but they are dealing with it in a form of fighting with the partner.
Fighting with partner (By fighting I mean yelling at each other) one takes a right to own the person.
You are my possession and I can do with you whatever I want and I don't care if I hurt you as long as I feel better. This is abuse!
And no-one owns anyone!
NO matter how married you are or how many children you have together, the person does not belong to you!
The other day I spoke to my friend about it and she said: oH ,how don't you lose your mind not fighting with him. that must be boring!
I explained myself (why, I don't know. some people just don't get it) telling her we do have different ideas on daily bases and we discuss about it. SOmetimes calmer sometimes with more passion, I call it arguing (For me arguing and fighting isn't the same. Fighting is the crossed line when you get driven by emotions and you lose respect for another person).
ANd it works with us because we keep ourselves as individuals and we keep respect at all times.
I have no right to use him for his emotional frustration and he has no right to use me for his emotional frustrations.
She said.. Oh that works for you guys, for us that wouldn't work. we just aren't those kind of people. we prefer yelling at eachother and then make up!
Ha! WHat do you mean we are just not this kind of people. Yes you are, we all are, it is the matter of choice!!
Yes, I would prefer yelling at him too, it is much easier than going throught he process like this:
Recognize the situation (I still fail sometimes and don't stop myself)
Step back and leave (The hardest one)
Sit in a quiet place and get back into your body.
Get your attention to your body.
Recognize the emotion that drives you.
Figure out whether the emotion is from your far past or "present".
Feel it.
Be with it.
Let it go.

Yah, hard as shit, yelling is easier.
but yelling is like puking, or taking drugs, or drinking.
It makes you feel better in that moment, but it kills you slowly, and this is how it kills your relationship.
Then people cheat each other. Divorce. cause more problems. ruin more lives.
People don't use their brain.

I am no relationship expert, but I do agree now with my partner and my therapist yelling/fighting shouldn't be an option.
and NO, relationship isn't boring this way, it is deeper and more real!

Selflessly love someone is hard.
But it is the only real love.
And me letting him go was rare opportunity when I could be selfless and do it from Love and Love only!
He hasn't been surfing for two years. He is in SLovenia for me so I finish my therapy or at least get more stable. He does shitty job for me so we can stay here. He is selflessly taking all the shit he gets from me/my bulimia.
So I am grateful I got a chance where I could show him I really love him.

It aint easy for me.
After a month of hardcore life where I didn't deal much with bulimia but mostly just put her on hold there is a lot of work to do now.
Alone, so much more harder.
The first day I was very dopy.
I was so shut down I almost killed myself out in a car.
I did not exist. But I slept a lot.
The second day was actually the same, but I felt a bit more and when I felt I was so happy to be married. Then I'd shut down again and not feel anything.
The third day it started.
It was a big battle. I COMPLETELY lost the grip with reality!
I did not know whether I am married or not.
My mind was telling me I am not married and he will never come back.
it is his chance to realize how horrible I am and he will never come back.
I really, really struggled yesterday.
I was so empty I thought I will just die.
I could just die yesterday.
It felt like I could just close my eyes forever.
that is what it tells me..... just close your eyes and sleep. never wake up.
it never tells me to end mylife violently, it puts a soft music on and it just takes me away. so far I believe I will never come back.
No love, anything could happen to my partner, I wouldn't feel it.
no jealousy, no fear, no joy, no tiredness, no hunger, no nothing!
Nothing is there.
I am dead.
Actually GONE!
My therapist tells me this is a dangerous state.
This is the state where I could drift back to binge/purge level from, or do things I would regret.
It scares me too, but it feels good.
It just feels like I could be like this forever.
I would lose my mind and end up in mental hospital, yes, but it is just so relaxing. feeling nothing.

There was a tiny voice telling me: You have to stoop this, Natasa!
But I didn't care. I dint wanna stop it.

Then my friend called and she came visit, and slowly I came back to my body and back to reality.
By the time I went to bed I was feeling better.
I was married again. I was blessed again.
I was strong again.
I had my purpose and I knew my reason.
I even showered. I don't shower when in this state. I hate showers because it made me feel.
but I showered, I washed myself, my face. I was clean. Inside out.
I felt the way I don't feel often.
I felt like everything will be ok....I felt hopeful and faithful!
it is a special feeling.
I felt like humans we are all so beautiful but so many of people toxicated, but even that's ok because people could heal. I felt so hopeful. so strong.
I felt like there will be day when I will feel beautiful and worthy.
I just felt it so deeply!!!
It made me happy!!
I told myself: look, you got stronger. you are recovering well!
just few months ago couldn't take if he would go away for a weekend, it would mess up with me,...I still "let"him go but I experienced huge breakdowns and I lost all the control, where now, I told myself, look at me, I am dealing with it.
It isn't easy. It hurts. it burns. It chokes me. but look, I observe myself. I recognize when I am completely lost and when I am just about to get numb. I recognize it. I can be with it.
Then look at me, I had shower, holy crap I had shower when I hated myself the most. When there was nothing but disgust. I see tomorrow. I feel love. I feel wholeness. I feel the purpose and I have faith everything will be ok. I have faith I will survive.
I am bloated waiting for my period.
The biggest and the fastest trigger of all the triggers......YOUR FAT!!!!!
but not yesterday. when the voice yelled YOUR FAT!! at me, I calmly told him...... I am bloated. and I am too tired to deal with you now so let me go to bed!
I will look better tomorrow after some rest, you will see!
then I told my body: I am sorry for him being so mean. here, have some water. You will look better tomorrow. now lets go to bed!
Somewhere on the way I got stronger.
I still struggle bug time and suffer a lot, but look, I got stronger.

It just feels different.
It still feels like everything is falling apart and nothing makes sense, but there is just that little difference in my body.....I don't know, just  a little bit of faith.
its like new life.

I woke up in a good shape in the morning.
I felt strong and I felt my body!
I felt like today I will do yoga after a month and I will meditate.
I felt like this will be such nice treat for myself.
Of course voices are wild, telling me I haven't been doing yoga for a month now and I suck at yoga now and I have no muscles. and I tell the voices, thats maybe correct but Iw as busy with wedding and end of school, I took month off of yoga. now I am back again.

it kept pulling me away and it succeeded, I lost myself for a while, but in about 30 minutes I came back.
I am now  on the edge, could drift into nothing or chose to live.
I am hoping on living and feeling.

Maybe I am worth living.
Maybe all I have to do is to show my own self my attributes.
So I will put some make up on and express myself.
Yah, maybe I am worth living.

So yah, my name is Natasa.
I am 28. I live in Ljubljana, capital of Slovenia.
I am married.
And this is my face.
NO filters. No make up (mascara) . Just my face now, this moment when I am writing this.
(Do excuse my expression, but I don't do selfies)







Peace.

I got married.

I got married.
A week ago.
So I am a wife now. It feels good.
I feel more complete.

Its slowly getting more obvious but I can feel some.

I am still exhausted though, we had people over for about 10 days, intense hanging out, I lost my routine which sucked but I kind of managed to hold myself together.
The work sucked last days more than ever, it made me sick and it got nasty.
I work for nasty people and I hope this is our last year here.
I don't even wanna go there right now, but it  caused so much stress I vomited.
Not that I made myself vomit, but my stomach simply couldn't take it anymore and I collapsed.

Then my partners parents came, stayed a night and left, then his best friends came and his sister.
a lot of eating outside.
I tried hard to hold myself together.

I had flu and fever of 38 degrees.
I don't know how i functioned but i did.

Saturday I had my hens party and it was good.
No major breakdowns. Just nice girly evening and then hard core party until 8 in the morning, which just toughen up my flu.
Not to stop, we hosted people during the week from New Zealand, i tried to keep sane so i just shut all the voices down, meaning i stopped feeling. That is probably how I made it through big stress, that wasn't even caused by me, my bulimia or my family as i am used to it, but by random not serious people.
The night before wedding was the first night when i was in bed by midnight.

I woke up at 7 next day, in tears because i was so tired.
My stomach couldn't take anything in.
I guess because i was sick and because i was nervous.
at 11.30 am i left my parents place and met my maid of honour at the venue, where we got ready for the wedding at 5.

I tried to eat some soup because i knew i hadn't been eating any for two days and i new i had to eat.
I made myself finish the soup, made me more sick than anything, but i kept it and i think it did me good any way.
at around 3 o'clock i couldn't hide bulimia any more......
I had my first proper panic attack ------ What if i am not beautiful, what if I am not skinny enough, what if i will look fat, what if i am not worth anything?
I don't really know how i managed to get ready, I guess it was my bridesmaid who kept me busy with making my make up, i don't know.

When I was ready, I wasn't happy with the way I looked.
I didn't like my body, my face, my posture, my life......
I was disgusted with my own self, like uncountable times before, but this really wasn't the good time to feel this shitty.

We were in a rush so even my voices didn't have much time to torture me.
I loved my bouquet though. When I saw it it made me cry.
It was so beautiful, everything that i wanted.

From feeling disgusted and feeling nothing I got super emotional, I cried because everything was just so beautiful.
I saw my dad coming closer to the bridge to wait for me and i cried.
I never loved my daddy more that at my wedding.
And my mommy, they were both great!!

Once i was given to my partner, I forgot about everything.
It was just him and me. and i felt GOOD.

I did not care how does my make up look like or how fat do i look  in the dress, i simply did not care.
it was a special feeling i havent felt before.
nothing mattered but him and myself.
I loved being there.
i was very emotional though and I LOVED my flower arrangement.
Silly, i know, but it was one thing i chose myself....flowers, and i was happy with myself.
it was magical!
absolutely magical!!!

People cried. everyone cried. it was very very very emotional wedding and very beautiful.
People working there came to me saying: Thank you for such special wedding, we haven't had such wedding before!
(We got married in one of the fanciest places in Slovenia, it is Titos residence Brdo Pri Kranju, don't ask but worth any money!)

Then, the NIGHTMARE happened.........
People admiring me, my wedding dress and the wedding.
Complimenting me on and on, until It woke up the voices again.
they told me: don't think they are honest, they are just saying this, because you are the bride and that is what people say to the bride, you can be sure they think you are ugly and fat!
I shut myself down. and I stayed shut for another 4 hours, until 11pm.
at that time i couldn't take it anymore.
I decided i will do something bad in order to bring myself back to life, so i had a cigarette , i don't smoke though.
It did not help of course. the only thing that helped was people gone.
when people were gone by 4am, i felt good again.
i set with my friends, 15 of us, and i was happy again.
the crowd was gone.

People loved our wedding though, everyone kept saying this is the new standard for the wedding and that it was like in a fairy tale.

Next day all the people waited for us at my parents place and we had picnic, it was fun. it was relaxing and fun.
I loved being me.
I loved my life and i loved my mom and dad for doing it all for us!!!
I loved my brother and his girlfriend for trying so so so hard to keep all the people who visited from all around the world happy. They were fantastic.

In the evening we opened the gifts and just like it wasn't already enough we got another shock.
People gave us almost 6000 euros!
It was overwhelming, i kept crying, i couldn't stop.
I was so alive.
I was in a state I haven't been for such long time, ages ago i felt this connected with life, with mother Earth, with the beauty.
Not because of the number of the euros, but because people showed so much love and so much support in this currency.
in that moment Life was magical and i felt LOVED!
I don't feel loved often, but i did then.
Just writing this opens up the emotion I experienced on that day.
Love and nothing but LOVE.
Healing LOVE!
Love from people to people, from brother to sister, from mother to father, from friend to a friend, from Universe to me. to us all.

Life really made sure to show me one more time why is worth living and recovering.
Life is trying very hard to convince me it is worth trying.
It is almost impossible against my voices, you would know so, the voices destroy Lifes work in less than 5 minutes.

I just don't let go. I hold on that HATE.
I make my self be bitter and all the beauty disappears in no time.
I see nothing it is just me and the darkness.

On Monday i had a break down.
I had the biggest fight with myself .... i have those twice a year and this was last Monday.
I even bit my partner and i kicked him because i was so beyond myself and angry and i wanted to rip my skirt but i couldn't so i attacked him.
So many things lead to that point but his mother was breaking point.
His parents left the day after the wedding, not wanting to spend any time with us.
Maybe she was mad because my partner agreed with his friend from NZ to go surfing for a week and she got upset because of that and just stabbed us in the back, just like that, in your face, so childish, or, she actually thinks she is too good for us. even more lame.
i don't know. but it frustrated me to the point that i lost all my love and respect for them.
they did not give even one bit of theirselves into our wedding,into our celebration. they spent 6 weeks wondering around and out of those 6 weeks they spent 4 days with us.
so disappointing and so sad.

Normal family story if one doesn't have bulimia.
but like this, my voices got new shit to torture me with.
telling me if only i was a better person they would stay and be nicer to us.

his mom has always appear so thoughtful, would write notes and postcards, gave my mom some blessed stones and send gifts to my dad.... etc.... i mean i never trusted her, since very first day i struggle with her because i don't trust her, but on our wedding day they brought nothing. no thoughtfulness.
they gave us a book as present.
i am not saying it isn't good but i am saying i would appreciate more to get hand made bracelet given to me as from my mother in low to me, as welcome to the family......

I cant stay here for much longer because this odd feeling fills my body, doesn't let go.
its screaming; IT is because you are not good enough!!!!!!!

because you are not good enough!!!!

because you are not good enough!!!!

because you are not good enough!!!!

because you are not good enough!!!!

because you are not good enough!!!!

because you are not good enough!!!!


But does it really matter??
A woman clearly have some issues screw that. even if she has issues with me, that is her problem.

We are fine. we are family.
That is all that matters.

will i ever let go of selfhate?

it seems like all i have to do is let go.
i am strong enough now and i have toughen up pretty well, so all i have to do is let go and have faith i am good enough too.

sounds so easy but i just don't know how to do it.
i let go for a minute, next minute i hate myself again.
feeling fat and ugly and lame and worthless.

will it ever stop?
does it ever stop?

it is clear to me now that if i wont accept myself for who i am and make peace with myself, my body and my mind i will always look for confirmation with someone else and this shit is exhausting.


Sunday, June 1, 2014

My letter for you

[FROM THE PREVOUS POST]


There is no joy.

Infact, there is. My children at school. Miracle children. Everyday. And you, my lovelies, you who I don't know, but who read my blog and write me nice messages, thanking me for being honest, telling me how much you like my blog, how this is your place to just rest for a bit, where you feel who you are and not lost in this big scary world of eating disorders.
When I started writing blog I actually still believed blogging is very odd and infact stupid. why would someone want to put himself out there, talk personal stuff with the world that doesn't actually exist.

Then I accepted my bulimia diagnosis but I just could not and could not accept the narrow thinking of people and friend around me, telling me I should just jog, eat healthy, deal with my issues on my own.
I was told often people just don't understand.
Yah hell yah, but those who are a bit (too) close to my life should just learn to understand, otherwise get the hell out of my life.
I was told so often this is not how life goes and if I one does not have any experience with ED one cant understand me.
Yah I know, people get you to certain point, up to lets say depression.
Beyond depression and anxiety there is nothing for them, they don't relate to you any more.
Ok, I understand.
But just learn about it.
If you don't try to understand ED then you cant stay in my life.
I am not asking to save me, but just to not shut me down everytime I say I feel fat.
If I have to understand people that they don't get me why people would not try and understand me.
When I say I feel fat I don't need you to say I am not or I should just try some new diet and not eat after 6pm.
Just try to learn to understand what are the possible reasons why I feel fat.
I am not talking about all the people, just those who kind of stick to your life from such and such reason. And don't tell me this is too much to ask. To get a book or make a small research online about what ED is.
At least my experience with people were awful!
Now I am grateful I could get rid of those kind of people. I mean they owe me nothing, but neither do I owe them anything.

SO I thought I could get a bit honest about ED on here where I can remain anonymous.
I thought just few people will   read it but in fact, this blog took off after just few months.
I know it is a good place for you to be, here you don't feel alone, here you can relate, most times. Here you are not judged. At least for me is like this. I don't know if you get my GO FIND HELP message but if you made it up here and can relate to my writing then you know you have problem, which is a good start!!!! Congratulations. Now just take it to the next level.
Often they would tell me they don't wanna go to the rehab because they have no faith, they are hopeless, they have had ED for half of the life.... I mean this is actually like saying you are too dirty to take a bath. Of course you are faithless and know no other life than eating disorder life, but this can only be changed if you go to rehab. then you gradually get faith back and your life is more than just eating disorder. And yes it sucks, but you owe it to yourself!!!
being out there is scary and the would is so mean, so cruel, so cold.
being on those pills sucks and psychiatrists suck or at least it takes good amount of time to find the one you feel comfortable with and even more time to trust the therapist.
It has to be the perfect commination of doctors and outside support to stop lying. this is what I found the hardest. to stop lying.
but I did and it is so liberating.

I know not only anorexic and bulimic people read my blog.
I got few emails from friends and partners asking me how to help their partners/friends and telling me my blog helps them understand their partners/friends mind better.
Which was my initial reason why this blog.

So now I don't know what touches me more.....those who suffer and find help on my blog or those who wanna understand their beloved ones.
I guess it is a whole.

we don't know eachother, yet we are so close.
We know eachother more than we think.

I am not over yet but if you ever feel like talking to someone who knows what you are going trough (at least for me this is always so relieving) flick me an email to recover.from.bulimia@gmail.com

you can go on and on and I will not judge. I might be able to give you some advice or be supportive or just be there, on the other side, reading what you got to say.

And remember: BULIMIA/ANOREXIA is NOT your fault!!!

Now tell your all 5 voices in your head to go fuck their selves and see what happens.
let me know.

How did you feel?
Did you feel fine?
Did you feel nothing?
Did you puke?
Did you break down?
....

Let yourself feel.
Whatever it is, it is ok!




..............................................................................................................................................................


Tribute. Poklon.