Less of a Marilyn, More of a Jackie...

Shut Up Skinny Bitches Guest Blog

FAIR WARNING TO TEAM EDP AND OTHERS- There are probably tons of triggers here regarding EDs and body image. HERE BE DRAGONS.

I’ve had body image issues as far back as I can remember, from being incredibly underweight due to medication I was on, to being a bit overweight after I was taken off of it and discovered the wonders of food. My weight has yo-yoed my entire life and I can say in all honesty that I have always despised my appearance. I had unhealthy coping methods with stressful situations in my life that revolved around food. It was a horrible cycle- I hated my body and my life, so I ate more and more, so I began to hate my body even more.

After I graduated high school, depressed and hostile because my father had passed away, I became suddenly and mysteriously ill. I began sleeping around 14 hours a night and still napping during the day because I was so exhausted. I was eating ridiculous amounts of food but kept dropping weight. I was peeing at least ten times a day and several times during the night. In six months, I dropped roughly eighty pounds in spite of my lack of exercise and awful eating habits. In hindsight, I was skeletal and emaciated, but at the time, I still felt fat and disgusting, despite hitting runway model body requirements. I would look in the mirror and just feel like a horrible lump. So I continued to eat my feelings in the form of candy, ice cream and cakes. 

One night, my (now ex) boyfriend and I went to visit some friends for dinner. They made spaghetti and pumpkin pie-both are my favorites- and after dinner, I passed out on their couch for several hours. We all figured I was just tired. On the car ride home, however, I went into respiratory distress. I was struggling for air as my boyfriend panicked, asking me if I wanted to go to the hospital or if I needed an ambulance (I shook my head no to both). Finally, he ignored me and called an ambulance. I don’t remember a lot of that night. I do remember being settled in a room in the ER and waking up momentarily, hearing the doctor say “Well, her blood sugar is about 800. She’s a type one diabetic.” and wondering who they were talking about. I certainly didn’t have diabetes! I woke up the next morning in a private room on the regular floor, IVs in each arm with my Mom and boyfriend sitting next to my bed. Both were in tears. A nurse came in and explained to me what had happened. Sometime after graduation, I had contracted mono. It went untreated and somehow mutated, causing the type one diabetes. This caused the rapid weight loss, the constant urination, sleeping, etc. All of the nutrients were being sucked out of my body through sweat and urination. 

For those who don’t know, a normal person’s blood sugar can range from 80-120, depending on how recently they’ve eaten. At 500, your organs starts to shut down as your body enters a process known as Diabetic Ketoacidosis (more on this later). At 700, your body enters a diabetic coma. They had caught my sugar at nearly 800, where it had been averaging every day for the past month or so.

I stayed in the hospital for a week as I learned about diabetes and how to manage it. After I was discharged, I was under the impression that I could NEVER eat certain foods ever again. I fell into a pattern of eating the exact same foods every single day for every single meal. For breakfast, two toaster waffles with diet cool whip and four berries. Lunch and dinner were both a pb and j with sugar-free jelly and a rice cake on the side. Snacks were either rice cakes or sugar-free pudding. I was miserable. As my body became healthier and regained lost nutrients, all of the weight came back on in a rush. I was fat, sick and miserable. I didn’t want to see my friends, my boyfriend, anyone. Finally, I reached a breaking point. I was heading to the mall with my friends, eating the remains of my pb and j, and I just thought to myself, “My God. I am hideous right now… you know, when I wasn’t taking insulin, I was so skinny and beautiful. Now that I’m taking it, I’m huge.” And with that thought, everything changed. I would occasionally take insulin, and when I would, I would take it in HUGE doses. I did lose some of the weight, but it was never good enough. I always needed to be down ANOTHER pant/dress size. No matter what I looked like in reality, the girl I saw in the mirror was fat and disgusting. 

All of this happened during spring/summer of 2008. From May 2008 (my initial diagnosis) until I was admitted into Linden Oaks in April 2011, I was hospitalized for Diabetic Ketoacidosis 12 or 13 times. Even one hospitalization for DKA for a diabetic is serious- it causes severe and possibly irreparable damage to your organs, cerebral edemas and potentially, death. Out of these times, I was in the ICU at least six times. Each and every visit, I would be seen by the diabetic educator and dietitian, both of whom would guilt trip me about my habits, which did nothing. I avoided seeing my endocrinologist, knowing she would tell me what I was doing wasn’t healthy and that she would potentially discover what I was doing. My entire life became centered around my guilt. Hiding my eating habits, hiding my blood sugars (when I bothered to check them), hiding my insulin habit, or lack thereof, everything centered around my guilt. 

I went through huge life changes- I dropped out of school in Hollywood because ED had taken over my entire life, I dumped my toxic boyfriend and moved back in with my mother. My life became an endless cycle of sleep, work, binge. I began to date someone new, someone wonderful, but not even the change he began in my life was enough to stop ED and me. 

One day, however, I woke up and checked the news on the computer. There was an article about trends in eating disorders. Since I have friends who have battled eating disorders, I clicked on it, slightly intrigued, slightly amused. Trends in eating disorders? What does that even mean? I scanned through the article, not really interested, until I hit the bottom paragraph, mentioning something called “diabulimia”. Diabulimia is most common in type 1 diabetics who reduce or eliminate their insulin intake to control their weight. It is a form of bulimia in that the body is forced to lose its nutrients via sweat and urination. I read every sign, every symptom. It all applied to me. ALL of it. I researched all over the internet, and on the limited resources I found, everything STILL applied to me. I went to work, shaken, terrified of the idea that someone who loved food SO MUCH, who exuded so much confidence- I went to acting school- could possibly have an eating disorder. I went home that night, binged and cried, and an hour or two later, told my mother. I found information on Linden Oaks, where several of my friends had been treated for their eating disorders, and showed it to my mom. I was tired of guilt. I was tired of hiding. I was tired of my horrifying lifestyle. Something needed to change, and it was me. The next day, I had an intake appointment set up at Linden Oaks, and before I knew it, I was there being told I was a serious candidate for inpatient treatment. 

I was at a serious crossroads. Who knew how long I would be there? When would I see my mom, my boyfriend, my friends again? When would I ever get to be normal? What if I didn’t have an eating disorder and I was just a freak? Sobbing in the office, I decided to admit myself. I packed up my belongings, bade goodbye to my mother and boyfriend and set out for the unknown. I found out as I was being admitted that they had called my endocrinologist, who told them point blank that if I continued with the behaviors she had seen, I would be dead in a matter of months. That TERRIFIED me and became my reason to fight. I was inpatient for two weeks, maybe three, and spent two months in treatment. Those two months were the greatest experience of my entire life.

I have been in recovery for a year now. This is not to say my journey has been perfect or that I do not still struggle with body dysmorphia and the urge to lose weight the “quick and easy” way. I do, I still do not love what I see in the mirror everyday, although I am working so hard to get there. I have made enormous strides in my emotional progress, knowing that I deserve love and I deserve to be healthy. Luckily, I have made enough progress with ED and my diabetes that I am so much healthier and have recently transitioned to an insulin pump, which makes life much less stressful. 

I’ve been very open with my struggle with my friends, family and even strangers, via tumblr, to inspire anyone else struggling that there is hope. They can recover and lead a happy, healthy lifestyle. If I can do it, so can you.

Blargh. So here we are, a full year of recovery, Candlelight Vigil is coming up.

And yet again, I have another huuuuuuge personal crisis.

And Mark and I can’t come to a decision that we both like about what to do.

(I am so out of fucks to give that I’m starting sentences with ‘and’. Don’t judge me.)

What IS it about April and May that I have to make huge life altering decisions?

My life. It’s a joke.

Repost, because I am a genius and posted this in March.

A year ago exactly (well, in half an hour), on April 26th, 2011, I came home from work at Subway, completely exhausted and ready to eat tons of sugary and salty foods and hopped on the internet. I discovered an article on eating disorders, and having friends who have struggled with eating disorders, I clicked on the link. 

I scanned through paragraphs detailing “new trends” in anorexia, bulimia and finally- diabulimia. I immediately froze up as I read the details, the symptoms, the signs. Everything applied to me. I continued to do research on diabulimia, growing more and more upset with every website on which I clicked. I eventually broke down and started bawling, something I had been unable to achieve for years. I debated between calling my Mom (it was 2AM, so I didn’t), calling Mark (who had class in the morning and when I called, didn’t answer) and talking to someone online. Finally, I got up the courage to talk to a friend about it, ask what she thought and what would be a good solution. After talking with me for about an hour, we had come up with the idea of looking into rehabs, specifically, Linden Oaks in Naperville. I got up the courage to go over to my Mom’s house at 3AM, wake her up and sit her down to explain everything to her. We called the next morning for an intake interview, which was set up for the next day. After my admission interview- and a brief hospital stay to bring down my blood sugar of 482- I headed back to my Morris apartment to pack my bags for an inpatient stay of undetermined length at LOH.

While I sat in the office, being told that I was being recommended for inpatient treatment and that it would be a long time before I’d be allowed to leave, facing the possibility that it would be months before I saw my mom and Mark again, I broke down sobbing. Was it worth it? Was going through this terrifying lock-down in a mental hospital worth it if I had to do it alone? Mom told me I didn’t have to do it. After several minutes of reflection, I resigned myself to what I anticipated would be weeks, possibly even months of isolation with other crazy people.

I’ll wait to go through my LOH experience much much more in depth in the following days, but it is important to me to share with you where I am and what I have achieved thus far in my recovery journey.

Today, I am compliant with my insulin absolutely, going to appointments with my endo and trying to find solutions to my crazy body. But I am making progress with food and insulin, although I still struggle with consistent sugar checks. 

I put on weight post rehab, headed towards the heavier end of the healthy weight for my height. Unfortunately, my weight has to be monitored by my endo, so I am constantly aware of my weight. In the past few months, I have been incredibly self-aware and self-conscious of my body weight and appearance. However, I made the commitment two weeks ago to begin working out and return to my meal plan (including craisins, carrots, granola bars). I am two weeks into my Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and am feeling so wonderful. I feel toned and happy- I just want to be healthy and happy, and working out every day for those 20-30 minutes is keeping me on that path.

I submitted two songs for the Candlelight Vigil coming up in May and I really hope to be honored with the chance to sing. Being able to stand up because I’ve been in recovery for at least a year means the world to me- hopefully, it will be reality. =D

My recovery journey has not been perfect; no one’s is. But I am fighting to stay on the right path and fighting to maintain my health. I hope your journey is leading you closer and closer to recovery, too.

A Year Ago

A year ago exactly (well, in half an hour), on April 24th, 2011, I came home from work at Subway, completely exhausted and ready to eat tons of sugary and salty foods and hopped on the internet. I discovered an article on eating disorders, and having friends who have struggled with eating disorders, I clicked on the link. 

I scanned through paragraphs detailing “new trends” in anorexia, bulimia and finally- diabulimia. I immediately froze up as I read the details, the symptoms, the signs. Everything applied to me. I continued to do research on diabulimia, growing more and more upset with every website on which I clicked. I eventually broke down and started bawling, something I had been unable to achieve for years. I debated between calling my Mom (it was 2AM, so I didn’t), calling Mark (who had class in the morning and when I called, didn’t answer) and talking to someone online. Finally, I got up the courage to talk to a friend about it, ask what she thought and what would be a good solution. After talking with me for about an hour, we had come up with the idea of looking into rehabs, specifically, Linden Oaks in Naperville. I got up the courage to go over to my Mom’s house at 3AM, wake her up and sit her down to explain everything to her. We called the next morning for an intake interview, which was set up for the next day. After my admission interview- and a brief hospital stay to bring down my blood sugar of 482- I headed back to my Morris apartment to pack my bags for an inpatient stay of undetermined length at LOH.

While I sat in the office, being told that I was being recommended for inpatient treatment and that it would be a long time before I’d be allowed to leave, facing the possibility that it would be months before I saw my mom and Mark again, I broke down sobbing. Was it worth it? Was going through this terrifying lock-down in a mental hospital worth it if I had to do it alone? Mom told me I didn’t have to do it. After several minutes of reflection, I resigned myself to what I anticipated would be weeks, possibly even months of isolation with other crazy people.

I’ll wait to go through my LOH experience much much more in depth in the following days, but it is important to me to share with you where I am and what I have achieved thus far in my recovery journey.

Today, I am compliant with my insulin absolutely, going to appointments with my endo and trying to find solutions to my crazy body. But I am making progress with food and insulin, although I still struggle with consistent sugar checks. 

I put on weight post rehab, headed towards the heavier end of the healthy weight for my height. Unfortunately, my weight has to be monitored by my endo, so I am constantly aware of my weight. In the past few months, I have been incredibly self-aware and self-conscious of my body weight and appearance. However, I made the commitment two weeks ago to begin working out and return to my meal plan (including craisins, carrots, granola bars). I am two weeks into my Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and am feeling so wonderful. I feel toned and happy- I just want to be healthy and happy, and working out every day for those 20-30 minutes is keeping me on that path.

I submitted two songs for the Candlelight Vigil coming up in May and I really hope to be honored with the chance to sing. Being able to stand up because I’ve been in recovery for at least a year means the world to me- hopefully, it will be reality. =D

My recovery journey has not been perfect; no one’s is. But I am fighting to stay on the right path and fighting to maintain my health. I hope your journey is leading you closer and closer to recovery, too.