my story: part#2

Hello, you guys out there!
I know, you read my last post. Noone of you commented on it though. (thank you kat! :))
I dont really care, cause I dont want pity,but sometimes, I just simply wish, Id have an opinion on such serious topics.Sometimes.

Well, anyways I hope my story doesnt trigger anyone and I am not sure yet, if I wanna include any numbers. Cause, when I noticed, that you read silently, I felt a little bad.
It felt, like I was doing harm by sharing my story and getting rid of these racking thoughts and memories of mine.
But it helps me.
And thats the intention behind it.
Other than maybe helping others 
by being a shocking example - something you dont wanna turn into. Hopefully.

So today I am going to share another part of my history. ED-wisely.

So I was back home.

I ate 5 meals a day. Every day. I went back to school.On a daily basis.

But I hated it.

School was a fricken torture for me every.single.day.

The moment I got back to school, I had been gone for nearly 5 month. And obviously my friends knew.

But over time, not only my friends knew. My whole grade knew.

Every teacher.

The grade below, the grade above.

It was awful. Really. Everyone was starring at me. Looking at my skinny-sticky legs and talking about me.

Sometimes laughing. 

But that wasnt the worst, the worst, I thought, was, that some younger girls were looking up to me. 

Seeing me as a role model....Thinking about that, it still kills me.

My marks werent good anymore, I still couldnt find back my concentration and I couldnt stand sitting on a damn chair all day long (other than it hurt my bum anyways).

I had just been released from a clinic in which I wasnt allowed to go out more than 30minutes a day. 

Where sometimes I wasnt allowed to go out at all. And where I always had to have company, when I wanted to leave the building.

I wanted to be finally free again. I wanted to use my freedom, to run around. To exercise, to make myself so tired during the day that I would fall to bed in the evening and sleep right away.

I wanted to use the fuel, I was giving my body for the first time in years.

So it was itching in my feet all day and I was always eager to get up and get going while I was in class.

I quit school.

My teachers recommended to do so, so I left my gymnasium after 12 years of school 

(in Germany u need 13 years to archieve a High School Diploma that allows you to go to University)

For the first time in a while I felt free. I felt happy and I felt mature.

All of my friends where still going to school, but I already graduated. For once, I wasnt the sick one, the looser anymore.

But my dad definitely had a different opinion on that one.

He told me that I am "a looser". Moreover he told me, that I am a failure.

And not his daughter anymore.

He would have no reason to be proud of me anymore, because I quit school and would never go to university. I would never become a doctor or a lawyer or anything great like that.

I would just always be a failure.

And he didnt want a failure to be his child.

He kicked me out.

Abonded his own daughter from the family. 

I was not party of his perfect family anymore. I was making too much trouble and he had enough of that, he said. I was just to much work, to much effort, he would have had to invest. He wasnt willing to do so.

So I moved out.

Fast forward.

Moved in my own apartment, started an Internship at a well-known 5*- Hotel, had alot of fun there.

My parents divorced. My mum didnt have a place to live, I didnt have money, she moved in with me.

We finally bought a kitchen ( didnt have one before). 

Still ate 5 meals a day.

But then my work schedule changed.

It wasnt steady like in the beginning anymore. Sometimes I would start at 4am, sometimes at 7am, sometimes at 9pm, sometimes noon,once end my day at 2pm, sometimes end it at 3 am 

(and start an hour later again with work...)

On the inside, the safe cage of eating-routine, I had build myself by eating at set times everyday, was breaking. Just like the "Jenga-tower" when you remove pieces little by little.

I still had lots of struggles eating in front of others, so at work my breakfast would usually be

 
a Cappucino and a cigarette. 
Sometimes I would be willing to eat a granola bar or a pear.

At noon, we didnt really have the time to eat. If we had a couple of minutes, Id eat an apple.

Granny Smith, the green ones. Nothing else. Never.


If Id have nightshift, Id eat the usual stuff at home, but my portions were shrinking. 

And at work, I couldnt get mysel to eating anything. It was too late to eat!! *insert panic here* 

During 3 month, I lost 6kg, which is approx. 12 lb.

I was feeling weird, sick and weak.

Like the outsider again.

Everyone noticed, I lost weight and didnt eat much, They bothered me everyday.

Tried to make me eat. Gave me chocolate (I would hide in my pocket after acting like I ate it)

and candy and and and.

Then my boss called me.

Head manager of the Hotel.

Me, tiny,  and insecure Ms.Mary.

He told me to take 8 weeks off, go to the hospital, gain strength and then come back.

He said: Id work hard, very good and reliable, so I would keep my job when I return.

I was impressed.

And I had no other choice than taking the offer, cause I couldnt even set one feet for another anymore and I was freezing to death in the cold of a harsh November.

My mom picked out a clinic for me and drove me there. 

I was anxious and mad, but I was too tired and exhausted to do anything other than packing my stuff and giving in. Giving my life in some therapists hands again. Only 6 month after I had left the other behind.

I was lighter than ever this time.

My skin was pale and see-through. My back was full of tiny little hair and my eyes where way too big for my head. And then the shock:

They didnt wanna keep me there.

My weight was too dangerous, the wanted a feeding tube.

I didnt.

I cried, I kicked, I screamed, I begged. and it worked.
They kept me there, but they had stricter rules for me than for the others.

The clinic was mixed. There were 2 Bulimics, another Anorexic and others that had Burn-Out and Depression or Anxiety, nothig to do with EDs.
All the ED patients there got contracts with set weight goals. And a system of punishment and reward.
( again, WTF why do all clinics think that helps?!)

For me, the contract got changed.

I wasnt allowed to leave the building for 3 weeks,

I had to gain 10lb during the fist 4 weeks,

I wasnt allowed to be visited any other day than sunday,

I had to eat 6 meals AND drink 4 ensures daily (controlled obviously)

I got weight and measured every morning.

But the worst:

I had to stay in the clinic every day until I gained at least 15lb.

Everyone else stationed there were allowed to get visits, leave the clinic for a walk AND to leave and try out being at home EVERY WEEKEND.
I was the only one, that stayed there. No visitors, no TV. No therapy, no other patients.
Only me, music, food,food,food and the Ensures.
The only conctact I had with civilisations between friday eve and monday morning was the nurse that "fed" me everyday and my mum that came for 2h on sundays.
When my brother visited me, we sneaked out of the clinic.
We spent an awesome day walking in the woods, but I didnt come home in time and they noticed that I broke the rules.

 I had to drink 6 ensures that day.

I hated the clinic and I never met the conctract. I really didnt purge, puke, restrict or anything. They controlled me so much, that I didnt even have the chance to do so. But they wanted me to do impossible things. Gain 15lb in 4 weeks.
I mean, I still cant believe they think a body can do that.

Mine at least couldnt.

...
to be continued.

ED - Story of mine - part#1/2

Good morning everyone :)
So now that everyone knows, that i have the weekend off and some time for myself, i had some time to think,too.
Last week i went to management school and since i am livin in Germany, we have English-class.
I am studying to become a manageress in the food industry (which I already am, but I need a degree written on paper to climb up the career-latter in large companies)
So that means we (logically) talk about A LOT of food.

 Anyhow, in my English class we got a sheet full of English food-terms to translate, just for trying,cause most of my class never heard a single vocab from them.
But because I lived overseas for a while and dated Americans, I obviously knew all of the terms and their German equivalent.
And then a girl (that ALWAYS comments on my body and my eating habits) said:"you NEVER eat, why the F*** do you know all the words?!"
That seriously made me really mad. And sad. And melancholic.
I hate it when she makes comments regarding my strange eating behaviour and that one wasnt even that bad but it made me imagine something.

Imagine, what I would say ti my whole class, to my teachers, to my boss if they EVER make nasty comments again. If they ever try to bug and nag me about it.
I mean what do they do that for?! I dont freakin comment on them eating like a pig or tell them they should probanly wear their correct dress size, which is one up and that they look like little squeezed sausages in their clothes sometimes.
So why the f do they have to be so nasty?!
Why does everyone always do that.
So dumb.

Anyhow, what I would say to make em all quiet, to shut them up and to turn their freaking nastieness and dumb comments into shock and  feeling bad abou themselves and their behaviour would be:

"ok, everyone. I behave strange when it comes to eating or food. But thats not out of the blue, thats because there is a story behind it.
I have a problem with eating properly since over a decade by now. Yes, 11 years, imagine that!
It all started when I was 8 years old,"

But explaining why it all began back then would go way to far and give you a view on me,that I dont even wanted any of my therapists to have so far.
I started going on a diet in that early age and an never-ending downward spiral began.
By the time I was 10 my weight had been unhealthily up and down for 2 years and I decided to end it.
I went on an absolute diet where I counted every single calorie and obsessively studied the nutrition info on every single piece of food we had in the house. It all got so crazy, I still know the calories of some things, that dont even get sold anymore by now.
I lost alot of weight. I always looked unhappy and looking thru family pictures u wont find a single one I am smiling at.

The beginning of purging

I started to puke too, because I had read a teenage book in which the girl does it (gossip girl,  by the way you readers) and I thought to myself:" wow that girl is pretty, everyone loves her and she eats like her friends,just without getting fat.Sounds great, I should try that"

So I did.



One eve my mom heard me do it.
Its not that my parents never thought of it, they pretty much knew.
But instead of trying to help me, my brother and my dad just made fun of it and always nagged me with nasty comments about eating like a bird.
Anyways, that evening my mom (sober for once, cause she had been an Alcoholic since I was 7).
came to me and told me, I werent going to school the next morning. Instead I would be going to a Psycho-treatment center with her the next morning.
I cried. And cried and cried.
But I knew it was right. I knew that I needed help, even though I was still a kid. And my mum assured me that we would just have a little talk with the psychic, I would NOT have to stay there.
So the next morning, we drove there.
We didnt tell my dad, nor my brother, because that was my biggest wish. I didnt want them to talk about me in that way, if you know what I mean...
The Psych was cruel. She was tough and strict and she refused to lemme go home with my mom.
They forced her to leave me there, because my weight was dangerous. It scared me to the max and I cant think of a minute, I didnt cry being at that clinic.
Well I dont wanna talk about that experience any further to be honest, because it still makes me panic.
With my ED I was the most normal patient at that treatment center ( which was for kids and teenagers) and for that, you can imagine, that sleeping in a room without a door, not having a blanket (to not strangle myself) and not being allowed to go to the bathroom alone (no matter if the "chaperone" that had to watch you was male or female!) scares you forever.
I got picked up after 2 days, when my mom found out, how awful their methods were.
I havent really talked about my expoeriences there to anyone and I wont do.
The only thing I can say is, that in the moment, I left that building, I swore to myself, I would never go in a clinic again.

Who knew that 6 years later, there were no other options anymore.

Anyways, my brother and my dad never found out about those 2 days, they thought I am staying at my grandma´s.
I lived thru a lot of ups and downs ED-wisely during the next years.
I had phases of being the strange-skinny-kid at school noone wanted to talk to, cause I always looked so sick and sad and wrote the best marks anyone could ever have, and phases of being popular because I drank and smoked by the time I was 12years old.
Somehow, I heard that smoking fastens your metabolism and I figured, since my mum was an Alcoholic and super-skinny that Alcohol is gonna make me skinny.
That was the time of "Kate-Moss-Rising" anyways, so looking like a cocaine-chic was en-vogue and I was cool. Blah.

I am the one in the middle, but the photo isnt from that time, its only 2 years ago.

Super-cool. Looking back all of that was so dumb, but "dating" older guys that dealt with weed and spent their weekends with excessive drinking to the point where you have no memory anymore, are sadly something that seems appealing to young teenage-girls.
And me, always looking for appreciation, I was weak and really easy to influence.
When I became a women, I was drunk and stoned. I dont remember much, only that I didnt want it.

And that was another turning-point of mine.

I was scared and inscure now. I felt so weak, nasty and bad. So dirty, like something you can not just brush or wash of, more like stained forever.
I knew I was over-reacting, but I started to become a loner and to focus on school and my obsessive eating habits again.

The spiral went further down, even though I thought that wasnt possbile.

thats actually my tattoo :)

By the time I turned 16, I was a total wrack and I donno how I got thru the following year, but I guess I was really lucky and god somehow protected me, even though I was probably one of the worst sheep of his.




A good month before my birthday I quit eating.
Completely.
Like I mean I went from eating a few bites a day to eating nothing.
  


During 40 days,
I drank a glass of milk (skim,obviously) every friday and drank a pint of carrot-juice everyday.
Sometimes I would "eat" herb-salt that was ment for spicing chicken-dishes if I couldnt stand my breath which was smelling like death anymore.
My breath was witness of my way down the drain.
I smelld like I was rotten from the inside, but I couldnt eat anymore.
My parents were on holidays for a week and at first, I only wanted to starve for that week, but by the time they came back, I couldnt eat anymore.
I donno if anyone of you ever experienced this, but I couldnt move anything to my mouth.
When my mum tried to feed me soup(clear broth) I cried, I kicked and hit her and my whole body was trembling until they let me fall asleep, being completely exhausted.
I am catholic and all I thought was: "If Jesus didnt eat or drink for 40days in the desert, you dont need to either. Youll be a good girl.God will be proud of you, you complete his mission."
which was by far the most stupid thing I ever thought, but my brain wasnt functioning anymore.

After having a breakdown at school and convincing the teacher not to send me to the hospital, my parents shocked me by sending me to a treatment-center.
NO!
I thought.
But this time it was different, It was only for others with ED, for Bulimics, Anorexics and Obesity.
I was not adolescent yet, so they put me in the "teenage section".
When I first got there, I remember alot of sad, big eyes starring at me. Inspect every inch of my body.
Compare theirs to mine.
I felt fat.I felt awful.
I thought that I dont belong there,
but after a few hours, we all got along real well: It was like we had known each other for ages, even though we never met before and came from all over Germany.
Thats the weird thing with all of us ED-girls.We have something in common. Something big, we share. And that made us to friends for life.
In that clinic I met girls that inspired me.
That had also come from eating an apple a day to 3 full meals and 3 snacks a day.
Something that took me 7 weeks to accomplish.
7 weeks of crying, madness and failure. Ups and downs, but probably the most memorable of my life.
I could write a whole book about the time in that clinic, but my post is already super long.
So lemme just tell you:
I got kicked out after 8 weeks.
I didnt gain enough and didnt meet my contract.
On one side that crushed me and I felt hopeless but on the other, I wanted to get home again anyways.
And I went home.
And it worked.
I actually ate 5 meals a day.
I had to eat them at certain times and I would only eat the same things everyday.Over and over and over again. But I ate. I ate REAL FOOD.
not chicken spice and skim-milk anymore.

Who knew that one thing, I decided, would end that all again?!

But that should be part#2 of my story.Because this is already too long to read, I guess.
But it feels so good to write it down. Finally.
I wish I could tell all of this my boss or someone, just so that they understand me better.
But I will never be able to, so I tell you.
Thank you.
If you read it or not.
Thank you
:)

Weekend randomness

Hi everyone! Its saturday morning and i have a whole weekend off in front of me.
Dang i cant believe i wont have to work none of the following days.
On one hand thats awesome finally getting some ime off but on the other hand, i have two weeks of management school behind me and i miss working hard and feeling every single bone and muscle after a long shift so much.
I am honestly kinda scared i wont get thru a regular work-day anymore after just going to school all day long. I feel so,well,ummm lazy?!?!
Whatever i gotta appciate that even though i feel a little lonely cause my friends gotta work and i can oly go out and do something by myself.
Really id love to spend a whole freakin day shopping with my mum right now buts thats clearly not possible cause shes still in her weelchair.
Random.

Tetosteroneyyyyy

Hi everyone :)
I got to confess.
I published a post a few days ago but I put it back to being a draft again.
I know noone really reads this blog anyways because i dont upload it alot.
I simply dont have the time o do so.
I also know that noone really has an idea who i am.
Except u kat.
But i am still afraid to reveal it in the www
Its about my struggles lately and how i deal with them.
But i think it was enough to write it down.that already helped me alot. And thats what matters,right?!
I dont need anyone to read it,even though i love gettin opinions and other inputs on my thoughts and posts. It makes me feel more confident.
Same like what happened lately,even though thats more two-faced...
I am seeing a guy.
But for me i am acting like a men if u know what i am tryin to say.
I meet up, i make out, i have ...., i leave, i do it again.
I feel a lil bad about that. Because i feel so cold and well...hmmm....dirty?maybe...
Well anyways. It pushes my self-esteem.
Makes me feel pretty.makes me feel wanted.
And thats okay then,huh?

Ps: i donno why i worry, a few years ago i used to have "friends" like that all the time, but now it seems so complicated. What the heck is wrong?!

Life with Gerwin...simply eat!

Hi everyone!
So better now than never or lets just say late but not too late, I am gonna share my story.
Not my whole one, I mean like all of the other bloggers do. Talking about how their ED started, lowest point,recovery,...
NO!
I am going to share a little piece of what has happened lately because it is one of the big pieces in my ED-puzzle. Little by little, Illl reveil more and more so that in the end, it all makes sense.

Anyhow.

Like the ones who read my blog recently know, my mum has had a surveire accident about 6 weeks ago by now. She was hit by a motorcyclist right in front of our apartment building and everyone thought shes not gonna make it.
Well, she did.
Now she is sitting in a wheelchair.
Yeah thats life.
One second changes everything. Think about it: ONE damn SECOND.
Well eventually ( we all hope so) she will be able to walk again [one day] but its for sure that she will rely on that wheelie for another 4 to 6 weeks and walk on crutches (if everything goes well) for the next year.
She lost 2 teeth.The front ones.Yuck.And her chin is broken so she will not b able to eat anything other than things cooked to the point where they fall apart when you touch them with your tongue and basicly have a texture that makes it impossible to define if youre eating pureed pumpkin or chicken right now.
Well that about her.
BUT to be honest, I am glad its only that. She could be not living with me anymore, being in the wide open.
So I am thankful.I truly am, cause I was raised straight catholic and I got firm beliefs in god and that he sets up everything for us. Every end is a new beginning and if he does something, it has something good to it.
Im sure.


For me and [Gerwin] <--my ED, not my pet.
it wasnt easy being alone all of the sudden, but I guess we got along quite well (which is the problem)
Before the accident we hadnt talked for a while, cause my hard work made it impossible to think of anything else than that and whenever I would have eventually had the time to think, I slept. Being completely exhausted.

So we came closer. Gerwin became my friend again.
My mentor,my brother,my dad, my life.
 And that is (like most of you will understand) not good.NOT good AT ALL.
Because with my Gerwin its not like with everyone elses. He doenst only influence me on my eating habits ( well more over not eating i guess) he influences my whole addiction - nature.

Day 1:
Gerwin made me smoke my pack of cigarettes, that I usally take a few days for in a few hours.
Gerwin made me scream and happily throw out nearly all the food we had in our fridge,cupboards, kitchen,etc.
Gerwin made me proud.[stupid.]


 


Day 2:
Gerwin made me buy a whole bottle of Gin and drink [..insert further happenings..] with some guy I didnt even know his name at the point.
Gerwin made me feel awful.

Day 3:
Gerwin made me go grocery shopping and come home with an apple and a pack of skim-milk that were my eats for the next 5 days.
Gerwin made me feel bad.

Day 4:
Gerwin made me ... to be continued.

I guess you see where this is going.
And now that my mum is back home, it feels so weird.
I am not alone with him anymore and that sadly freaks me out,
we fight more than we ever have (my mum and I) and I asbsolutely HATE it.
But its hard to do something against it.
I feel so powerless, so completely caught up in my EDs arms.
Like its trying to squish me.
But I need to stop that.NOW.

I already made a beginning.
I ate a little more.At work.The last nightshifts I didnt only live of coffee, energy and smokes.
I ate a bun.Cheers.But better than nothing.
I started eating a  few bites of yoghurt and half an apple a day too.
Its baby.steps and you might laugh.
You might feel bad about yourself now. Fat and disgusted cause u eat more.
BUT that wasnt my intention.
Because I have to feel disgusted by myself and my eating habits.
Its disgusting that I dont eat much.
And I dare to come to the point again, where I am just as strong as you girls out there.
That kick yourself in the ass every.single.day
grap a knife and a fork and push yourself to new limits.
By doing what we all learned to do when we were babys.
Simply eat.
And I will.
I will simply eat.

Thanks.