The nightmares are starting again. It's been a while since I've had one. The trigger...I suppose it all this talk of death lately. My cousin's father-in-law just passed away a few days ago and another cousin is dealing with the 14th anniversary of her mom passing. I've been dealing with this subject for the past few days and it's starting to effect me subconsciously. I don't usually think about conversations of this nature after they're done. This weeks it's a little difficult. I don't want to suffer with having these dreams for days and days. Bad dreams and sleep disturbances can be very stressful and may cause my anxiety to go up, ultimately triggering a binge. I've got to find a way to cope with this.
I'm not one to talk much about bad dreams. Well, there is one good friend that I call if the dreams are too disturbing. Sometimes I tell her about the dream and other times I'll only mention that I had a strange or disturbing dream. Not giving details about some dreams seems to help at times. Have you ever felt like saying a bad dream out loud could bring it to life? I do, so I bury them deep inside. I don't want to keep burying these dreams. I think I'd like to try something different this time.
Here it goes. I woke up to a strange dream this morning. In the dream I am going to a large white building. On the outside of the building time is moving very fast, like flashes going by. For one brief moment there was a flash of a ladder on the roof of the building. The ladder was familiar to me. I'd seen it in another dream...a reoccurring dream that changes from time to time as if linked to a series of dreams. The parking area on the back side of the building was familiar too, also from the same series of dreams. In another flash I was inside the building talking to two men. Both around the same age, 35-40 or so. One man was blond and dressed in a pale blue button down shirt with khaki pants. The other had dark hair and wore an old faded t-shirt and blue jeans. The three of us were talking about death. They were telling me the benefits of dying. This seemed very appealing to me, so I agreed. Both men were excited about my decision.
The dark haired man left to set up a few things. I was escorted into a room by the blond haired man. He asked me to change into a gown and lie down on the gurney. The dark haired man came into the room. As I lie on the gurney, both men discussed the best way to maneuver me out of the building once I've died. They settled on an acceptable route and then the dark haired man left again. There was a brief conversation with the blond man and then he left also. I waited and waited. After a while the door opened and several children along with two adult females came into the room. It appeared that they were on a tour. One of the women spoke to me, she had blond hair pulled back in a pony tail and wore a short sleeved plaid shirt and khaki shorts. She also wore glasses, dark rimmed. I couldn't hear what she was saying, as if I pushed mute. It seemed as though she's asking a question. We smiled and then she walked away. Suddenly I was alone in the room again. Still lying on the gurney.
More time goes by. I start thinking about life and living. Would they be mad if I change my mind? A few minutes later the blond man returns. He has a brick colored rubber hose in his hand with a triangle shaped tip also made of rubber. The man smiles as he slings the hose over his shoulder. We made small talk. He turns towards a large machine and begins flipping witches and turning dials. He then takes the rubber hose off of his shoulder and turns back towards me. I sit up on the gurney and I say to him, "You have been very kind to me. Would you mind if I change my mind about dieing?" He said no, but seemed a bit flustered. He quickly shuts off the machine and tosses the rubber hose over his shoulder again. A drop of blood splattered on the corner of his right eye. It didn't seem to faze him. Again, he turns to me and tells me not go out the way I came in, but to take the ladder leading to the roof. I was confused, but agreed to follow his instruction. As I got dress pictures flashed into my mind. There were two. In both pictures the men appeared to be dead. The picture flashed closer and I recognized who they were. They were the two men I had been speaking with in the building. I woke up.
I hope writing this dream down will help. I certainly don't want to have that dream again or anything similar to it. Time will tell.
I've not been one who could keep a diary. Though I've tried many times. A block comes and I'm unable to write anything about the day or what I think I'm feeling. Writing in this blog has given me a sense of freedom. It invites me to share my story no matter what it may be about...no matter how much or how little. I look forward to writing everyday, which is highly unusual.
Maybe writing will become a habit if I keep it up for 21 days. Hopefully, I won't flake out again, but if I do, it will be okay. In the meantime I'll continue praying for the words to come.
Today for breakfast I had a pack of peanut butter crackers and a glass of water. Lunch was two scrambled eggs and hot tea. I'm still not sure what dinner will be. I'll figure it out later.
As I write this post I realize I have not consumed enough calories today. Still struggling.
Showing posts with label Stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stress. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Friday, February 28, 2014
February 28, 2014
It's 3:24pm. I finished eating about 10 minutes ago. I continue to make progress, even if it's baby steps. Better to move forward than backwards. It's a slow climb, but I don't think it will take too much longer. So far, the optimum time to begin eating is 10am. If I am able to eat a reasonable breakfast around that time my body will naturally cue itself for lunch, a snack and dinner. Of course I still have my premeasured snack set aside for night time. If I stay on track with my eating I'll begin feeling normal hunger sensations again. Right now I don't feel anything. I have mental cues telling me I should eat. These cues generally come much later in the day, usually around 1 or 2pm. The cues are easy to overlook. I have gotten up to get something to eat and forget to eat by the time I reach the kitchen.
It's so easy to ignore the signs and fast forward into binging regularly. Too easy. It's been over 30 years since this disorder developed in me. In a couple years it will be a 40 year struggle. I guess that's more than enough time for something to become deeply ingrained. I don't understand what causes me to lose my ability to feel normal hunger and why the mental hunger so strong. It's always lurking. Waiting. In addition to my unhealthy relationship with food, I am still sorting out my past. My past is the beginning of this hell?
I want to paint a mental picture of the experience for you. And here is my disclaimer so you not think me insane. What I am about to describe is not an actual occurrence, but a metaphorical description of what my binge experience feels like.
I am sitting in the living room (usually) and it's late night. Unable to sleep, I mindlessly watch tv. There is an awakening of sorts. It's like an additional awareness comes into play. Now there's a feeling of hunger, but it's not a physical hunger, it's more mental or at least that is where the general location of the sensation is. My mind's eye (as I can best describe) begins to travel through the apartment, making it's way to the kitchen. It examines every inch of space as it moves towards the cabinets, drawers, pantry, fridge, freezer, every corner of the kitchen. Searching. I am still sitting on the couch. Anticipation builds as the search continues. Cravings begin. Thoughts of various foods and tastes emerge. I want something comforting, sweet, sticky, savory, maybe even warm and soothing ...I want to feed. When the mind's eye lands on something desirable, I get up to prepare the food, but it doesn't stop there. As I sit down to eat the food, the mind's eye revisits the kitchen looking for the next item to eat. If my mind's eye is not satisfied with what's available in the kitchen, it seeks other food sources, fast food restaurants, grocery stores even convenient stores. Whatever the case, I must move at its will. The hunger is insatiable. The binge takes on a life of its own. At it's worse, hours of binging will occur before satisfaction. It doesn't care how bad I feel about eating so much, as a matter of fact the binge uses my emotions to fuel it's desire. The cravings leave and the binge subsides. I am left gorged. My ribs expanded and hurting, I'm having difficulty breathing. I contemplate going to bed, but wait, there's one more thing. One more item to be eaten. Something sweet. Something quick. Just a little something to top everything off. And then I'll crawl into bed and go to sleep.
There are other times when I go through the evening purchasing and hording foods for my late night binge. I often feel an sense of excitement when hording different foods. When I get home I lay all of the foods out and fantasize about the order they will be eaten. Even though I've purchased foods throughout the evening, I will still cook a meal. Usually something like hamburger helper. I am pleased and feel a great sense of accomplishment now that I am prepared for the binge. I play with my son, give him his meds and put him to bed. And then the binge begins.
I speak of binging as a separate entity because that's how it feels. It's something outside of myself propelling myself into an action that I cannot control. It is for this reason that denial is so easy. In a way, it's like having an alter ego or another existence that you're only aware of on an as needed basis. Just enough to function for the cause. Otherwise, it is as if it never happened. By the next day, I'm starving myself again. I function completely oblivious to the binge I had the night before. I spend time with my son before going to work. My food and drink intake is at it's lowest. I may eat 1 potato chip or nibble a cookie for an hour or so before work. That is, if I have a sensation of hunger. My denial was so deep that I've even caught myself saying, "how can I be so big, I eat like a bird?" It makes sense. I only acknowledged the minuscule amount of food that I'd eat during the day and nothing else. I just didn't see it.
My most difficult time with binging was during my son's first year of life. The stress was extreme and my motherly duties endless as I had to give him medicines and care around the clock. He was so sick and frail. My will to give my son everything I had to give as a mom was the sole reason for my being able to function at all. The binge, well, that was my bonus for a job well done. It was my comfort. My mommy time that didn't mind the occasional interruption. My second life, far removed from the stressors of the day. It would always be waiting for me. I gained 100 lbs. that year and didn't realize it. I blamed the dryer for shrinking my clothes.
I imagine this will be a life long struggle, like alcoholism. There is no cure, only the count of days between binges. My gut tells me that the binging will get much better as I maneuver through my mottled past and make peace with the demons that dwell there.
It's so easy to ignore the signs and fast forward into binging regularly. Too easy. It's been over 30 years since this disorder developed in me. In a couple years it will be a 40 year struggle. I guess that's more than enough time for something to become deeply ingrained. I don't understand what causes me to lose my ability to feel normal hunger and why the mental hunger so strong. It's always lurking. Waiting. In addition to my unhealthy relationship with food, I am still sorting out my past. My past is the beginning of this hell?
I want to paint a mental picture of the experience for you. And here is my disclaimer so you not think me insane. What I am about to describe is not an actual occurrence, but a metaphorical description of what my binge experience feels like.
I am sitting in the living room (usually) and it's late night. Unable to sleep, I mindlessly watch tv. There is an awakening of sorts. It's like an additional awareness comes into play. Now there's a feeling of hunger, but it's not a physical hunger, it's more mental or at least that is where the general location of the sensation is. My mind's eye (as I can best describe) begins to travel through the apartment, making it's way to the kitchen. It examines every inch of space as it moves towards the cabinets, drawers, pantry, fridge, freezer, every corner of the kitchen. Searching. I am still sitting on the couch. Anticipation builds as the search continues. Cravings begin. Thoughts of various foods and tastes emerge. I want something comforting, sweet, sticky, savory, maybe even warm and soothing ...I want to feed. When the mind's eye lands on something desirable, I get up to prepare the food, but it doesn't stop there. As I sit down to eat the food, the mind's eye revisits the kitchen looking for the next item to eat. If my mind's eye is not satisfied with what's available in the kitchen, it seeks other food sources, fast food restaurants, grocery stores even convenient stores. Whatever the case, I must move at its will. The hunger is insatiable. The binge takes on a life of its own. At it's worse, hours of binging will occur before satisfaction. It doesn't care how bad I feel about eating so much, as a matter of fact the binge uses my emotions to fuel it's desire. The cravings leave and the binge subsides. I am left gorged. My ribs expanded and hurting, I'm having difficulty breathing. I contemplate going to bed, but wait, there's one more thing. One more item to be eaten. Something sweet. Something quick. Just a little something to top everything off. And then I'll crawl into bed and go to sleep.
There are other times when I go through the evening purchasing and hording foods for my late night binge. I often feel an sense of excitement when hording different foods. When I get home I lay all of the foods out and fantasize about the order they will be eaten. Even though I've purchased foods throughout the evening, I will still cook a meal. Usually something like hamburger helper. I am pleased and feel a great sense of accomplishment now that I am prepared for the binge. I play with my son, give him his meds and put him to bed. And then the binge begins.
I speak of binging as a separate entity because that's how it feels. It's something outside of myself propelling myself into an action that I cannot control. It is for this reason that denial is so easy. In a way, it's like having an alter ego or another existence that you're only aware of on an as needed basis. Just enough to function for the cause. Otherwise, it is as if it never happened. By the next day, I'm starving myself again. I function completely oblivious to the binge I had the night before. I spend time with my son before going to work. My food and drink intake is at it's lowest. I may eat 1 potato chip or nibble a cookie for an hour or so before work. That is, if I have a sensation of hunger. My denial was so deep that I've even caught myself saying, "how can I be so big, I eat like a bird?" It makes sense. I only acknowledged the minuscule amount of food that I'd eat during the day and nothing else. I just didn't see it.
My most difficult time with binging was during my son's first year of life. The stress was extreme and my motherly duties endless as I had to give him medicines and care around the clock. He was so sick and frail. My will to give my son everything I had to give as a mom was the sole reason for my being able to function at all. The binge, well, that was my bonus for a job well done. It was my comfort. My mommy time that didn't mind the occasional interruption. My second life, far removed from the stressors of the day. It would always be waiting for me. I gained 100 lbs. that year and didn't realize it. I blamed the dryer for shrinking my clothes.
I imagine this will be a life long struggle, like alcoholism. There is no cure, only the count of days between binges. My gut tells me that the binging will get much better as I maneuver through my mottled past and make peace with the demons that dwell there.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
February 26, 2014
I managed to get through the night without binging. A huge help was to be able to share my feeling with a friend. She responded well and understood where I was coming from. There are times when I feel being honest about myself is a detriment because people do not want to hear my truth. Thankfully my very good friend is trying to understand and takes time to really hear what I am saying.
Anxiety levels are dropping. I continue to celebrate having a cleansing conversation with a friend and running a few necessary errands yesterday. Now I can relax. I don't have to leave the house today or even tomorrow. Just the thought brings me great peace. Dealing with triggers and having to go into public areas is a cause for stress. Fortunately the stress has dissipated and my need to seek comfort has lessened.
I was a bit exhausted after my ordeal yesterday, so I ordered pizza instead of cooking. I found the strength to order only what my son and I could eat for dinner having a little left for a snack. I have to set up pre-measured snack when I am at risk of binging. It calms my mind knowing that I have something to eat waiting in the wings. If I do not have the comfort of knowing that I have clear access to a snack a binge is almost sure to occur. Another thing I do to help combat bouts of insomnia is to utilize that time to be creative. Yes, I am tired from being up all day and taking care of many tasks throughout the day, but it is better to find something useful to do rather than fight the inevitable. It is during those hours when the house is quiet and all daily tasks are done that I can focus on my most personal trials. I can put time and attention into healing the wounds of my tormented past. I sometimes think out loud at time recording it to listen to later. Other times I may attempt to write my feelings out in the form of poetry. And then there are those times where I am able to sit at my drafting table and begin sketching out visions. Focusing on expressing my thoughts in some form or format helps me not to binge. Purging my thought is kind of like letting excess air out of a balloon so it doesn't pop. It's a relief.
I ate 2 slices of pizza last night and that was enough. I don't think I'm in danger of binging tonight. To be on the safe side I will prepare a snack...just in case.
Anxiety levels are dropping. I continue to celebrate having a cleansing conversation with a friend and running a few necessary errands yesterday. Now I can relax. I don't have to leave the house today or even tomorrow. Just the thought brings me great peace. Dealing with triggers and having to go into public areas is a cause for stress. Fortunately the stress has dissipated and my need to seek comfort has lessened.
I was a bit exhausted after my ordeal yesterday, so I ordered pizza instead of cooking. I found the strength to order only what my son and I could eat for dinner having a little left for a snack. I have to set up pre-measured snack when I am at risk of binging. It calms my mind knowing that I have something to eat waiting in the wings. If I do not have the comfort of knowing that I have clear access to a snack a binge is almost sure to occur. Another thing I do to help combat bouts of insomnia is to utilize that time to be creative. Yes, I am tired from being up all day and taking care of many tasks throughout the day, but it is better to find something useful to do rather than fight the inevitable. It is during those hours when the house is quiet and all daily tasks are done that I can focus on my most personal trials. I can put time and attention into healing the wounds of my tormented past. I sometimes think out loud at time recording it to listen to later. Other times I may attempt to write my feelings out in the form of poetry. And then there are those times where I am able to sit at my drafting table and begin sketching out visions. Focusing on expressing my thoughts in some form or format helps me not to binge. Purging my thought is kind of like letting excess air out of a balloon so it doesn't pop. It's a relief.
I ate 2 slices of pizza last night and that was enough. I don't think I'm in danger of binging tonight. To be on the safe side I will prepare a snack...just in case.
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