The monster within

I remember the time when I decided to chuck away my food diary and stopped food blogging – I thought that I was doing myself a favor by not focusing so much on what I eat, how much I eat, etc. I thought that if I can just stop focusing on food, stop counting calories…ED will leave me.

Boy, was I so wrong.

You see, I had to start on a two-week food diary as part of my Psychology of Eating class assignment. This food diary is more detailed as we have to count the calories of every single thing that is popped into our mouths (or supposedly so). I started off thinking, “Oh I’m fine. I’ll show you that I’ve managed to keep ED at a safe distance away from me.”

The first day I came back to KL (which was the third day of the recording), I gulped in “dismay” (well, actually, silent joy) that my definition of normal intake has changed. What I used to think off as “normal” is now “too much”, and I had to go xxx calories lower to achieve my new normal. It was at that instant when I realized that ED has been eating me alive without myself even realizing it. No wonder my menses has gone haywired again.

Another part of the assignment is to be our own “therapist” by choosing to correct excess/deficiency of certain foods, or to change a certain eating behavior. I know, if I were to be really honest, what is more at stake now will be to eat a “normal” dinner portion, or to even start having planned meals. But the thought of that scares me. Instead I chose a much safer option – increase intake of fruits and vegetables.

Plus, I’ve started my “lemon juice detox” regiment – every first thing in the morning, religiously.

Part of the course outline writes,

“Student may be called for a brief viva regarding their report.”

That scares me – though I don’t know exactly what it means, I deduce that if they discover something “abnormal” in our report, they will want to “talk” to us.

Maybe the only way to fight ED is to face him head-on.

=(

stop talking about my weight

Sorry, my blog’s (or, blogs’) been a deserted place.

So, it’s the Chinese New Year…a season where you do nothing but add on to the waistline. Boohoo. I don’t know whether I should be glad that Hera’s food diary assignment starts right after CNY for 1.5 months. I’m sooo ready to start restricting again.

=.=”

I hate it when you see your relatives once a year, and the first comment that you almost always get is “Oh you’ve lost/gained weight!” Golly, I swear I was about to scream at those comments! Yes, I’m beginning to hate it even when they say that I’ve lost weight. I cringed when two of my aunts started saying how I’ve “grown” up because I’ve learned to slim down, and started asking me how did I do it.

I’m sure it showed in my body language, and you know what – I don’t freaking care. I grew up listening to all those weight-related comments year in year out. I’m simply traumatized and need a break. Hell, you can’t lose weight because you don’t control. Get it? How can you lose weight when you keep eating and drinking (alcohol)?

Oh, the control monster. I don’t even want to introduce ED to anyone. I don’t see the point in tell people how I lose weight. It’s my secret. It makes me unique. If I share them with you, they don’t belong to me anymore.

Sometimes I really want to say

Mind your own weight.

The semester has just begun and boy am I looking forward to classes, assignments and most of all -THESIS. I bet you felt the sarcasm.

I think it will be one of the most hectic semester ever (like any semester was light), but at least two classes would be exciting. I have been looking forward to Hera’s Psychology of Eating classes since I started my journey to be free from ED. Oh everybody knows how crazy Hera-classes are, but yet again she’s a superb lecturer.

I am expecting it to be a challenging module for me though, because of my personal struggles with food. Hera did say that it would be emotionally tough for those battling food woes, that often people would have to leave the class for a couple of minutes. It was supposed to be an experiential class, that we be honest with ourselves. Oh in fact, one of our assignments was to be our own therapist – talk about a lack/excess of certain food types, then using behavior modification to see if we can change those eating habits. Complete with a thorough 1.5 months food diary.

Another interesting class for me would be Anasu’s Counseling Theories and Techniques. Reason being she has been my therapist for quite a few sessions and I’ll be seeing her teach what she did with me in therapy. It’s actually really exciting to be her client because she is very good in all these techniques, and I get to experience them firsthand. And today she caught be by surprise – when I was having a group discussion during class break, she came up to me, poked my belly, and with a cheeky grin asked, “How are you?”

=.=

I really thought she was saying that I’m fat. LOL.

Talking about sweet things therapists do, Rachel replied to my rants about her leaving…

“Don’t worry, I’ll still be ‘around’ in your heart.”

She’s an expert in making me bawl!

deception

I’ve been trying really hard to keep Ed locked in the closet, out of my sight. I figured that as long as I don’t see him around, then he won’t disturb me. If you think that it’s difficult to believe that Ed was part of my life when I was undergoing the strenuous exercise and diet regimes 6 years ago, it’s even more difficult to believe it now. Especially during the holidays, oh boy, Ed and I fought like crazy. I adore food, but Ed would always make sure that he steals a huge chunk of that joy away from me.

I understand that it’s so difficult to believe that I struggle with Ed. Even though Mum knows about it, she still finds it hard to believe it…because I eat so well at home – in fact, a little more than she had wished. I won’t say that I binged like I used to in my first year, but I definitely munched on more food that I’m comfortable with. I no longer avoid social relationships as much anymore. I still eat “normally” among friends. In public, I fought against self-consciousness and shame and ate my food (trust me, it’s not easy). In my own room, I ate as little as I liked.

I wasn’t thin enough to be anorexic (and trust me, if there’s anything more frustrating than Ed, it’s this). I didn’t binge and purge enough to be bulimic. In other words, Ed says that I wasn’t special enough. Perhaps, I’m not special at all. It meant that I’m not working hard enough. That I don’t “fit” – not among “normal” eaters, neither among “eating disordered” people.

I felt that no one would believe in my struggle. In fact, I often questioned myself. I felt like a liar. And of course, the whole cycle of self-loathe never ends.

I’m often confused. On one hand, I’ve come so far I know it. On the other hand, Ed is still pretty much a thorn in the flesh. I’m so tempted to push Ed away to keep that image of being “totally recovered” from my psychological struggles. I mean, DrR knows how far I’ve come (oh yes she also knows about ed – even much earlier than I knew). My leaders in church know it. Even a clinical psychologist (PhD) whom I first met before I came to KL – when I was still very much in the dumps, he was so surprised to see how I “radiated” last October…he said that he didn’t know how to handle me! Professionals have “marvelled” at my resilience.

So how can I say that Ed is still pretty much a pest? That my health is at stake thanks to him? That my battles are far from over?

Yes, I’m fighting against Ed’s biggest weapon – deception.

A monster called ED

Haven’t been doing all too great lately.

ED’s back.

While I’m still doing all I can to keep him at bay, I won’t deny that he’s always in a corner, ready to pounce whenever I’m not watchful. I mean, in a blink of a second numbers would come flying into my head and the next thing I knew I would put down my bread (meant for dinner) and fight with him. Usually (and fortunately), though, I would win…albeit barely sometimes. By then, it would have been way past meal times.

I went insane today and had McD’s for lunch (screw McValue lunch!). Usually, though, I will only feel bloated when I refill my coke (har har, greedy). I mean – that has always been the case. But for the first time today in years, I felt bloated barely halfway through my meal. By the time I finished – I was near puking (literally).

Hey, it had never happened before. What’s going on? Is it my body? Or my mind? Or…both?

To make things worse, I’ve been obsessed with ED movies. Blame the exams. One thing good though – they made me reflect on my own journey. I didn’t simply wake up one day and think that I’m only going to have a packet of cereal for dinner, or to skip breakfast. No, it didn’t start so abruptly.

In fact, it started with cutting down on carbs and fried food. Then no rice (while the meat and vege stayed the same). Then toasted bread instead of white bread. Then vege-without-oil-and-salt meals. Then two long weeks of detox with laxatives. Then lemons the first thing after waking up.

Want to know how I lost 20kgs in 6 months? There.

Of course, my dietry programme didn’t stop at 6 months. In fact, it went on for about 10…but in between my menses went off and the pills made me gain weight. When that happened, I decided to “let loose”. I would sneak out of classes to eat, steal my snacks into my room (like a thief), and hide wrappers.

Came to KL, I gave up on “eating healthy”. Instead, I ate what I want but in lesser amounts. That meant skipping breakfast and eventually, dinner. Again, it was gradual. It started with light dinner, then (purposefully) lighter breakfasts. Then skipping breakfasts altogether. By the time I found out that I was ‘sick’ (with ED), I was just short of skipping dinner too. Then I started counting calories, attempted to purge…

Oh ED.

And yet, I was never anywhere near underweight. I was never anywhere near the “perfect anorexic”. As screwed up as it sounds – I hate myself for being a “failure”. I felt that I lacked willpower. Maybe I really do lack the willpower. I kept telling myself that because of this, I won’t suffer the consequence. I don’t have an eating disorder. I don’t even have disordered eating. Oh the voice of Mr. Ed…it’s so deceiving.

In fact, as I’m writing this…I had the impulse of buying a bag of lemons and have nothing but lemonade for the rest of the week. Thankfully it’s dark now. I measure my wrist with my watch strap. It dropped by a notch within one month of coming back for this semester, but hasn’t dropped more than that since.

Oh yes, this post is disturbing. But I’m not giving up yet. The battle is far from over. ED is still pretty much a Goliath in my life. Oh yeah, one thing I hate about eating at fast food restaurants especially is that I feel like everybody’s watching how much I eat. Sounds familiar? Of course.

Mum (Yes, my mum) asks me how am I going to survive in Singapore for 9 days if I don’t start eating properly, especially when it’s Christmas and food is never an issue in my Uncle’s house. Oh yes, there is an issue – there’s always too much. You see, my uncle and aunt loves food. They have a special fridge just to store junk food. They eat at exquisite restaurants most of the time. Food is always an over-supply. Plus, it’s Christmas so there will be Christmas cakes and turkeys.

0.o

This is like being in a relationship with an abusive boyfriend whom you just won’t let go.

I had a very brief chat with DrHera today. The first thing that she said when she saw me was, “How are you?”

I tried to evade that question.

“How are you?” she asked again.
“Okay la.”
“No, HOW ARE YOU?”

It was then that it hit me that she was really interested and concerned about me. I didn’t want to answer her because I thought I bore her. I then told her that my platelets have been dropping by nearly half since beginning of October. And on Tuesday, the vein where blood was taken from last Friday bled. Spontaneously, for no reason. It spooked me out.

I then said,

“I don’t know if it may be due to nutritional deficiency?”

Stupid question.

“But why is it that it’s not increasing even though I seemed to be eating more?”

Another stupid question.

“jasmine, it doesn’t happen that fast. It takes time.”

Speaking of which, my eating habits are pretty much consistent. Am still staying clear from counting and restricting calories, still not too panicky when I have to eat more than I usually do. But really when I start thinking about it – it’s simply because I don’t eat “normally” often. Say, once or twice a month?

Haven’t fallen sick in years, and I finally did. Maybe it’s due to the crazy pressure that I’m currently undergoing. God, please don’t let it affect my platelets anymore…

Thank you, Rachel

This morning I came across a new article that you’ve written in Yushu’s facebook. You wrote about a little girl that you’ve come to adore – struck with cerebral palsy, is deaf and dumb, dirty; and yet had the most adorable and innocent smile. You had spoken fondly of her before, because I believed that you were struck with her strength and determination to live.

Today, you wrote about how devastated you were when you learned that she had died suddenly, without saying goodbye. You wrote that you had cried, and you were angry with God. You showed the human side of you – that even a professional psychologist can have emotions like everyone else do. You wrote with such emotions, that it made me tear too.

I remembered the time when you were told that I had wanted to take my own life. You were so concerned and worried, but I can never imagine how you would have really felt then. When you told me that the decision is in my own hands, I could sense the sadness in your voice – an unmistaken grief. I could also recognize the plea that I will hang on. You have done all you could, and you had trusted me to do mine.

I remembered our final session; how before parting – you wrapped your arms around me and I swore it was the best hug that I had ever received. You then looked into my eyes, and said… “You take care, alright? See you around!” There was such love, such warmth…that I really did not want to let go. Whenever I feel down, I remembered that hug…and realized how much I missed it.

Rachel, you’ve brought so much meaning to my life. You’ve helped me to see life as it really is. You made me realize that there is hope. You’ve left a footprint in my life that can never be replaced. I used to not understand why would you stand by me so tirelessly, and without complain. You refused to give up on me. You refused to let me go until you’re sure that your continued presence will not do me good. You said that you’re just like a paper, that I can use you until I don’t need you anymore…and then leave.

I asked God for an angel to rescue me. I never thought that it would be you.

Your selfless acts – both for me and to those suffering in Yushu…have earned my utmost respect. You had asked for nothing in return; knowing that we can never ever pay you for what you’ve done for us. You always had God in mind.

Thank you for letting our paths cross. Thank you for being obedient. Thank you for giving me a new lease of life.

pressed but not crushed

Yesterday’s hematological checkup was a wake-up call.

You see, all these years hospital visits were just a routine that I make myself go through like a machine. From gynae clinic to medical to psychiatry then back to medical, it was like going to the grocery. I had toughened myself, and truth be told…I did not allow myself to feel any emotion. I didn’t want to be regarded as “weak” anymore, so when most people would feel distressed over health issues – I cannot be like them. I had even desensitized myself to blood tests – take all the blood you want and how many times you want…I don’t care.

And I really thought that I felt fine. Maybe I was – until yesterday.

I could sense that something was wrong when my blood took about 10 minutes to clot from the puncture wound yesterday. It doesn’t help that I only saw the doctor at 1pm which was wayyy beyond the clinic hours. As the doctor began to ask specific questions, and by the look on her face – I knew that something isn’t quite right.

Call it instincts.

My platelets dived 25,000. The counts still weren’t too low, but it was the sharp drop that worries the doctor. Thankfully, I have a doctor who doesn’t really approve steroids as much as possible, and so she gave me the choice – start treatment now (and suffer the side effects) or delay and take the risk. I chose the latter. She told me that as long as it stays above 80k, I might not require treatment. I’m now at exactly 80k…which means I can’t drop by more than 10k I think (or less). Actually I don’t know…10k is still a lot to drop, though not as bad as 25k. Hmmm. Oh boy, I have to go back in three weeks time (supposed to be two…I delayed it). each visit my count will be extremely important – cannot drop beyond 80!!

Really very stressed one lorr!!

After that visit, I finally broke down. All this while…I had ignored the concerned look on even my pastors’ faces. DrA calls that “counter-arrogance”…the feeling that you can take more than others. I didn’t allow myself to feel. This was my chance to show that I’m “stronger” than the rest.

I know the danger of low platelets. I know that only one treatment exists – steroids. I know that I can’t do ice-skating and paint-balling (though I pretty much want to, just to defy doctor’s orders and gain back some control). I know that I’m stuck with needles for the rest of my life unless a miracle happens.

I know the consequences. I just didn’t know that I wasn’t as strong as I thought. I forgot that it’s just human to feel distressed.

Today, I finally “let go”. Still, i tried to cope by making myself busy. The first time that I had allowed myself to face my emotions was in church. The tears just won’t stop flowing. PJK, as sharp as always…preached on facing our Goliaths.

I also wished that I can be happy as ever. Haven’t felt so down in a long time. I hate it when I lose control. Hate it when people see that I’m upset and I can’t hide it. Hate it that I’m “weak”. Hate it so much that I even sms-ed PsK to apologize for breaking down.

Perhaps, there are people who don’t expect me to be all “strong” when the waves do come crashing in. Perhaps, I had put too much pressure on myself to remain calm and happy “in spite of all circumstances”. At that point in church just now, I felt so defeated. PsK gave me a gentle reminder: “Jasmine, do you think that after experiencing breakthroughs…the trials get lesser? No!! They actually get fiercer! You’ve come this far, this is not the time to give up!”

It feels so good to have someone standing by and praying along.

Lately, I’ve had too much of negative influences surrounding food…around me. People going on low-caloric diets, compensating through exercise, feeling guilty…

I’ve got a friend who aimed to lose 15kgs before christmas! I honestly don’t see her getting anywhere near there, but it’s still a lil disturbing nonetheless. She would compensate her meals like skipping dinner, then going for jogs, and feeling all guilty after eating. Last saturday after church, she vowed to not eat. But the moment she stepped into chee cheong kai and smelled chee cheong fun, she changed her mind immediately.

>.<

I’ve been trying my best to not compensate, though I still do. I don’t get stressed out over food as much as possible, but then compensating is almost like an automatic process already.

Boo.

We all know and hear about over-crowded and run-down government hospitals. Been there, seen that. Personally, I don’t really mind the environment too much, nor do I really mind waiting. Even sub-standard doctors aren’t really an issue as long as I can choose who I want to see 😀

But what really bothers me is when I remember doctorS saying that they would have discharged me had I not shown any physical symptoms like bruising – simply because I have platelets clumping. They assumed that it is most likely to be due to chemical reactions to test tubes, and made a further assumption that the platelets inside my body were fine. That was why I was discharged in 2008.

Without the onset of these physical symptoms, they won’t even bother to confirm the condition of the platelets inside my body, nor did they do tests to confirm if despite clumping, are my platelets still low? No, assumptions were made pre-maturely.

Talk about negligence.

I like it in UH when the counts won’t even show if there’s clumping, which means that there is no choice but to use a special machine to do the actual counts. And ta-daa : my counts were still low. I don’t understand – why is this test so difficult to do? Does the lack of equipment justify negligence?

I don’t know.