I don't even know.

What am I doing? What has my life come to?
I'll tell you what I'm doing- I'm failing. I'm taking shortcuts in my journey to recovery. Shortcuts, leading to more shortcuts, leading to.. You know. I can feel myself straying further and further away from my path to recovery.  I don't want to go away from it. I like being happy, and that's what recovery brings..

  So why am I subconsciously fighting to go back to my old habits? The very habits that have almost killed me in the past? What is going on in my subconscious that I don't know about? How is it that I've lived my entire life with myself, yet I don't even know my own mind? What is wrong with me? Why is everything inside of my fighting so hard against each other? Why can't I forget about everything and just be Mary Lynn? It's a lot harder than I could possibly explain- especially since I simply cannot explain.  I don't think I ever can. All these things, all these questions, run through my head at a hundred miles an hour, and I wish I could answer them, but.. I simply don't know.


  There is a huge hole inside of me. A black hole, slowly sucking me in from the inside out. I want it to go away, but no matter how much I feed it, or how much of myself I turn over to it, it always wants more. It's never enough- I'M never enough. I'm missing something vital from my structure, and I know not what it is. Can I ever be fixed? Will anything I do ever be enough? Will I really be able to survive this? Not just move my feelings and thoughts to the side, not just prolong my life- I mean actually survive it.. in the long run.


  I'm beginning to lose that hope I still long to hold onto. I fell physically sick admitting that I'm not doing okay. I should be doing great, I've been out of CFC for but four months.. But I can't ignore this or lie to myself anymore, I just can't.  ..Or maybe I feel sick because I'm not doing okay. I don't know.


 Why must it be so easy to fall into this again? This thing that's been torturing me for the past ten years of my life?  It's just so easy. TOO easy. You see, I don't like food.  No, not as in ED stuff (Though that's true, too..), but as in I physically DON'T LIKE IT. It tastes disgusting. It's all these weird and awkward consistencies, in my mouth of all places! Uncomfortable textures galore, making me want to gag.. Yes, literally. I do not like food, Sam  I am. I do not like it with all that I am.
It also doesn't help that I STILL don't have hunger signals. I don't get hungry, I don't like food. Bad combo.
Not liking food+ never hungry+ trying to recover from an ED= Disaster, waiting to happen.


  My doctor, Karly, is not happy with me at all. She says I keep losing weight- and a lot of it. More of me does not want to lose weight, but I have to admit.. A part of me does. A very small part of me is ecstatic every time Karly comes in, with a sad look on her face.. A look of disappointment.. A look that means something isn't okay. 85% of me feels so sad, so ashamed that I'm fighting this so hard, and I'm still losing. But that little part of me- that 15%- feels an odd sense of relief. What am I doing? Why am I losing my ground fighting against my ED? I simply don't know.


  I'm just about ready to put up my white flag and surrender to this monster inside of me, killing me. I can't help but wonder if this is what the rest of my life is going to look like. Can I get better? Can I just go back to being Mary Lynn, no strings attached? I don't even know.

Just Journaling.

I'm very tired and cold tonight. This past day was my four month anniversary from discharging from CFC- yay me! I've been working hard... And apparently not quite hard enough. 
 I know that.

   I've been lying to myself, telling myself that I'm doing just fine, and mostly believing it. Reality check, ML- you aren't going to make it at this rate. You need to step it up- you need to put in your all. This is the battle of my life- the battle FOR my life. This half-ass'd attempt just isn't going to do it.

   Today I went to see my ED specialist MD, Karly. She was not very happy. She says my weight is continuing to drop every week, and it's scaring her. She actually had to go ask another MD about it, because she was pretty worried.. Especially because I have my boot on from my ankle surgery, so that adds weight.. I hate that. I know I haven't been doing amazingly lately, but I was just so sure that my weight was stable at least. I'm actually not even having all that many ED thoughts, it's mainly just my will to eat. I sincerely do not like food. It tastes gross, the consistency and textures bother me.. It's just not something I think I'll ever really enjoy. I don't like it, I don't want it, and I don't remember it because of my lack of hunger signals. This sucks.

   In other news, there's an ED behavior that I really want to engage in.. But I'm not sure if it's really ''ED motivated,'' per say. I really want to purge recently. Why? Not to get the food out. Not so I can eat without feeling that twinge of guilt because I know I can reverse it.. I want to because I feel unpretty- in my face. I feel a little embarrassed to say this, but that's okay..- I've kind of fallen in love with myself- with my face. I've often felt just gorgeous because of my square-ish face, green eyes, and my smile. Seriously, I can admit that. The problem is, that I don't have my face shape anymore. The shape of my face is like the one thing that's held me together sometimes, or so it seems.. Now that I'm not throwing up for various hours every day (I actually haven't at ALL since CFC! Hazah!), my cheeks are no longer swollen. I no longer have that shape to my face- I no longer see the Mary Lynn I know in the mirror, I see an odd looking midget. Yep, that's me.

  Now, I understand that my self image can be pretty damn distorted sometimes, but I don't think this is one of those times. This time I know that I'm right, and I would feel more pretty if I could just start purging, again. I don't want to, I've been doing so well with that!! And I do want to; I want to feel good about myself. I'm so torn.

   In other news, I'm socially incompetent. Seriously, I've realized this recently. I don't know how to act in social situations, what to say, what things upset people, what's too much information, what's appropriate in the moment. I don't know what to do with myself, how I'm supposed to sit or stand, when I'm supposed to just listen and when I'm supposed to offer help. I don't know how direct to be. I constantly feel like I'm putting on this huge act, just trying to be acceptable and do things right. I try, and I fail- over and over. It's so frustrating for me, I just don't know how to be a good friend. It makes me so sad sometimes. I just want to learn how to be a ''normal'' person. Ggahhh! I just get too excited about everything and over do it.

   It's raining outside. I love rain, it's so calming, so serene. I need to move to ''Forks'' to get my rain kicks, I would fall in love with it. Probably.
I think it's time for me to fall asleep to the sounds of the rain, softly washing our beautiful Earth and nourishing the amazing plant life we are so blessed with.
 Goodnight, my friends. Sleep well.

Feelings are confusing

. 
"Recovery feels like losing a best friend" 
I feel like that today. I'm doing SO much better, and I'm SO much more happy without my ED...
But I miss my old best friend, sometimes. Is it okay to miss that? Am I crazy?
I don't want it back. NO WAY! I just feel my heart aching tonight. Missing the friend I had for so many years, the one that got me through the tough times when I truly did need a friend to help me through. And while I do NOT want it back.. I miss my best friend. My Eating Disorder.


I'm crazy! I love being in recovery like no other! It's awesome, all the things I can do now, all the energy I have!! My body is amazing! I had two surgeries last week.. And guess what? My body is preforming a miracle, right before my eyes. It's healing itself. I, Mary Lynn, have to power to heal. THAT is really something. I know, it's one of those things that an "average" person would shrug off- "Healing? Yeah, that's what happens when you get hurt. Duh."


No. MY body has never really healed when I've gotten hurt, as your body needs nutrition and energy in order to do so.  Standing and looking at it, from my different point of view, it truly is a miracle. I had surgery. My body was CUT INTO. TWICE. That's kind of a big deal. And I can handle it. My body can handle it. I can preform miracles.


So why do I still feel like there's something missing in my life, like I just need that one old friend back, and I'll be complete? I'm happy for the most part.. But deep inside, a part of me- I don't even know how big that part of me is- feels lost and alone.
I feel like I've lost my best friend.

What happens now?

Recovery

Recovery is like a helium balloon.

First, you, your balloon of recovery, 

gets slowly filled up.

But instead of being filled of air,

You are filled with potential confidence,

epiphanies,

and the tools you need

to be able to build self-love.. Your helium.

(Oh, and not to mention, food.) (;

You hold onto your balloon of recovery for dear life

As it begins to raise you into the air..
Your arms aren't strong enough.

You begin to lose your grip.
You slip, and fall to the ground. 

HARD.
You relapse.

 

You try re-filling your balloon

It takes less time than before.
It still has some helium left in it.
A kick start,

A boost.

 

You begin floating up, again. 

This time you're prepared for a slip

..This time you've tied a knot to hang on to.

You stay in the air for a long time.
You start getting so tired
Your hands are sweaty
One slips.
Both slip.
You fall.
You relapse.

Third try.
You're getting the hang of it.

Again, youstart flying up.

Up, up, and away..

You are in the air for a very long time.

Longer than you thought possible.

Until....

You start to run low on helium.

You run low on all those things you were filled with.

You stop going up.
You've tried so hard

Prepared so much

Hung tightly on for so long..
And you fail.

 

You hold onto your balloon for a time
Staying right where you are.
No progression
Just heart ache at your fail

And confusion.


You notice you're moving, again.
You get excited.

And then you begin to fall.

How long will you fall for?
How far off the ground are you?
How much do you have to lose?
You don't know.


You soon realize there are other balloons
Floating upward, nearby.
You know what you have to do to stay up.

The question then is
Do you jump?

Do you have enough "fuel" to swing to the next balloon?

Do you have the confidence, self-love, and strength
To take a leap of faith?

If not, you fall back to the ground 

And start over.
You do not pass "Go".
You do not collect $200.

But

If you do have what it takes to jump..

You jump.
You take your leap of faith, and hope for the best..

You catch another balloon.

You balloon skip.

Until you reach the clouds-

Until you reach safety.

The point where you can finally say the word "recovered"

without feeling fear,

guilt,

or shame.

That moment when you become independent 

and live your own life without therapists,

dietitians, doctors, and hospitals surrounding you, 

making your load feel heavier under all of the pressure

.

That moment when you can breathe a sigh of relief 

And know that YOU have just won the battle.

..But not the war. 

You will inevitably slip

Through the safety of the clouds
At one point or another.
You will fall.
And if you can't catch a balloon on the way down,
You hit the ground.  

HARD.

And it WILL take more than one balloon to reach the top.

And you WILL fall.

But not necessarily to the bottom.

Just enough to realize the difference between sick, stuck, recovering, and recovered.

 

Each balloon is filled with something different.

The first is filled with what was mentioned above.

But the ones after are filled of all different kinds of things. 

I couldn't tell you what they're all filled with,
Even if I wanted to. 

It depends upon which balloon you grasp

And how heavy the load you carry is.

Each balloon is a different color.

Each color is something different..

That's the excitement of balloon skipping.

 

You learn and gain new things with each balloon,

and you never know exactly what you'll be learning next

until you're there.

So, where am I at?
I know you're likely wondering..

I would give you an answer..
But I can't.
I suppose, if I have to say,
I am on a balloon pretty high up there
Grasping on to that balloon's frail string.

My balloon is most definitely running out of helium.
I'm losing my ground.
I'm very slowly getting further from the clouds
And slightly closer to the ground.

I need a balloon. I need someone, something,
To help me find one.
My glasses are foggy,
I can't make out the balloons
Floating right by me
Passing me by.

 

I don't care if I can see them.
I need one.

I get ready to take the leap.

When another balloon passes me by

Can I make it? 

We'll have to see.

There is no answer for that until it has arrived.

I will admit,

I'm scared to jump..
Especially with my newly- fogged glasses.

I like my current balloon.

What if the next one is different?

Where is my next journey?

What parts of the myself,
Even, of the sky,

Will I be sent to explore next?

I guess I'll have to go on an adventure
and see where it takes me.

It may be scary, 

but I can't be recovered with only learning about one part of myself.

I must learn all there is to know in the  mind, body, and soul
of ME, of Mary Lynn,

to truly and fully recover.

Gang McDonald

So, last week I went to group- And there were only three of us! I love it when it's like that.. it makes it cozy  :)
 
  Anyway, after group the three of us decided to head to McDonald's. As we were sitting there munching on our fries, some gangsa looking black guys came up to us and started majorly hitting on us..

"Hey, ladies. Mind if we sit with you? What're your names?"
Kiera: "...I'm Danny."
Danielle(A little taken off-guard with Kiera using a name so similar to hers): "D..err..  Danielle."
Mary Lynn: "I'm Mary Lynn."


 Gangsta #1 (G1):"Well helloo, I'm Gangsta#1." (Okay, so maybe I forgot his name a little..)

Gangsta 2: "I'm G2"

G3: "I'm G3..."
..(ETC)

..Anyway, they start up a convo with us, G1 being the obviously more outspoken and most interested one of the group.

G1: "Hey, you ladies from around here?"

US: "Yep. Just hangin' out."

G1: "Well, we all from Chicago- how about you ladies show us around?"

Kiera: "Well, I actually have to get back to my husband and son, soon." (Which is true.)

G1: Oh, y'all married with a kid at 24? Daang, girl."

ME *Drawing attention to her wedding ring*: Yeah, isn't that the most gorgeous ring you've ever seen??" (So he doesn't get offended and think she's lying.)

G1(to Danielle): "How about you, you married, boyfriend..?"

Danielle: "Yep. I live with my boyfriend and my six year old daughter." (Also true.)

G1(to me): "How about you, babe?"

Me: "..Nope. No boyfriend. No husband. No kids."

G1: "Well how 'bout YOU show us around town, then? Maybe we could make it a night, get something to eat.. Our hotel is just around the corner.."

Me: "Uhm, no thanks."

G1: "Why's that? We just need someone showing us around, where all the good places to be are."

ML: " Nope. That's pretty weird."

G1: "Weird? How's that weird? What's a guy gotta do to get a date with you?"

ML: "Well, I kinda have to know him, not just meet him and his posse randomly at McDonalds. That's pretty creeper, I'm not gonna lie. That's like a classic date rape set-up goin' on there, straight up. Sorry, no offense, but seriously. It's a scene straight from Law & Order waiting to happen."

G1: "Wha? You think I'm weird?"

ML: "No, not necessarily you, just the concept of you. I don't know you, dude."

G1: " Well, How's about I get your number, & we can get to know each other?"

ML: "Uhm, Stranger Danger! Not happening. Sorry, dude. Also, I'm on crutches. How am I supposed to show you around town?I mean seriously. Think ahead, here. Anyway, we need to go. It's getting late, and 'Danny' and Danielle need to put their kids to bed. Later."

G1 (still laughing a bit): "Alright.. You sure you don't want to give me your number?"

ML:"Yep. Sorry, dude."


..Uhm, yeah. Can I just say how freaking GOOD that felt, to just tell him what was goin' on, straight up? To not be making lame excuses so as to not hurt their feelngs, just announcing what was going to happen straight up, in a kind manner?

Uhm. That was epic. I felt so empowered!! Wahoo!!

I know, that was a long (and likely boring) story, but I just had to share!
Guess what, world? I'm BOLD and BEAUTIFUL!!!
       Suck. On. THAT.

Three Years in the Making (& some good news!!)

  (Scratch that last post!!! Ed found a job, he's not going to move in with us, after all!! WAHOOO!! Oh, happy day!!!)

  
  In other news,  I think this whole "eating" thing is working well for me. I just feel so good about life!

  Here, we have a picture of me, a little less than three years ago. This was about four months before I was so engulfed in my ED that I was finally admitted into the ICU.  (Oops.)

  Now, notice the very puffy cheeks. Normally, you'd think someone with Anorexia would have a very sunken in face, right?   Wrong. Not if they throw up twenty times a day, even if all they've had is water. The stomach acids are very erosive, causing your cheeks to swell a lot.. It was all I could do to smile, and you can kinda tell. I also notice how colorless my eyes look..

This next photo was taken yesterday. My cheeks aren't puffy, as I haven't purged since I was barely admitted to CFC. Over all, I've been doing fairly well with eating, too. And guess what? I feel HAPPY now! My skin is brighter- and so much CLEARER! Granted, one pic is indoors, one is out.. But that's because I was too depressed to leave my room at all. Another difference! My hair is lighter, which happens when I'm eating healthier and am outside in the sun more! (My hair is SUPER sun-sensitive, and people who are malnourished's hair color quite often turns fades to something more dull)

  So, here's the difference three years and a bit of food and help makes (Do the scrolling from one to the next thing, you can really tell the difference!) :

This makes me feel good about all the work I've been doing. YAY for being the HEALTHY Mary Lynn!! I like her better, anyway. SO. THERE!! :D


PS- Neither of these pictures are edited.

Uncomfortable, to say the least

  So, there's this guy who I don't know very well. My mother is very good friends with him, and has been for a very long time!  Anyway, he's always given me the creeps. I don't know why, and I guess there's no valid reason for me feeling this way- but still, I always feel VERY uncomfortable around him. Luckily, it's very rare that I even see him. His name is Ed. No, I don't mean my Eating Disorder "Ed"- This one is a real dude. 

  Now, Ed is currently jobless. My mother talked to him, and.. He's going to be living with us now, for "at least a few months". IN. OUR. HOUSE.  I am NOT comfortable with this, I'm overflowing with anxiety, and I don't know what to do! I suppose there's nothing I CAN do, but that doesn't change my obviously messed up radar from going HAYWIRE on me! I just feel this fear I can't explain. I seriously have no reason to feel this way. I'm going crazy just thinking about it. I'm not okay with it, I wish someone could just understand the intense emotions I'm feeling, whether valid or not! Just UNDERSTAND that this is too much for me! I'm seriously starting to cry right now. I've never been a crier- but recently, I've gotten quite emotional over certain things.. I'm not sure why this is included in my emotional section, but it is. Why? I have no idea.

Good times, good times...

Tonight I've been playing scrabble with James. Playing Scrabble with the two of us always gets pretty interesting...

James: "Is 'zooerotica' a word? As in erotica, with animals? I'm going to Google it."

James (three minutes later): "Well, it's not a word, but there are PLENTY of websites for it..." :/

Later-

James: "What about 'queerotica'- is that a word? ... As in 'queer' and 'erotica'?"

MaryLynn: "...Go Google it."

 

New LIFE-SAVING methods!!!

     'Let's eat Grandma!!'

 or

   'Let's eat, Grandma!'

...

  Punctuation saves lives.

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

**Please, warn your children about the dangers 
of improper grammar. Statistics show that the 
number of grammar-related deaths
this past year alone has been skyrocketing. 

Don't become a statistic.

Teach your  family. Teach your children. Save a life.
Together, we CAN make a difference!

One week at a time..

I am having a really crappy week. First, my therapist, Ali, had her baby 3 weeks earlier than expected- which is totally great for her! A beautiful, healthy baby girl named Claire! I know- Precious!! However, for ME, this means that I no longer have a therapist. Like, AT ALL. IDK what I'm going to do, I'm supposed to be seeing one twice a week, not none 0 times a week. 'Fer Reelz.
Then, of course, today I lost my dietitian, Lauren. She won't see me anymore because I've lost weight the past few weeks- not meaningfully, though! So this week I kicked my own ass into gear and TOTALLY followed that meal plan! I did get my weight back to where Lauren isn't going to freak out... but that doesn't matter, Apparently, during the week, the OP Tx team had a meeting, and decided that I'm not good enough to be seeing Lauren, anymore. Lauren says she sees that I'm trying, and would love to continue seeing me, but it isn't her call. Who's call is it? A group of people who have never even SEEN me in their entire lives. SERIOUSLY?!!?!  Plus I've had a migraine headache for what has to be like a month or something by now,  And I'm pretty sure my mono has flared up again, so I'm going to the doctor tomorrow- orrr.. technically, today. I'm so tired ALL of the time. It's ridic! And I've had the hiccups for at least a week, now.. THAT'S not normal.. Silly, Mary Lynn-  Trix are for kids!  Also, as Ali is MIA for a while, Group has been moved to Wednesday nights.. Which I can't do.

So, to wrap it all up: No Therapist. No Dietitian. No more Tues night group. Having trouble gaining weight. Fate determined by strangers. Migraine headache for month+.  Hiccups for weeks. Can't stay awake- AKA can't function normally. Had a fever today. I'm kind of depressed now.. Oh, and for the grand finale- I can only chew on one side of my mouth, as I have to get a root canal soon. Oh, happy day...

Life is bliss.

Seriously?

 

  Today I took a test on Facebook, which rated my level of English grammar. Now, we all know that I'm a grammar Nazi, yet it claims I missed one! I went through and took the test four more times, but it insists I missed one!! They messed up. I quadruple checked, and all of my answers were definitely correct. Also, they used improper...... grammar in most of the questions. I'm seriously upset by this, what has this world come to?

  I understand that it's just a silly Facebook quiz, but it's testing grammar, which the maker very obviously doesn't know. I can also understand that people make mistakes. I make mistakes, that's for sure! The difference is that I KNOW it, and try my best to use it.. They seriously think it's proper grammar. This is extremely upsetting to me! What have we come to?? Are we back to the cavemen days? Should we all just forget about proper speech and go back to grunting and drawing pictures on walls to communicate? This is ridiculous.

  Now, I don't mean to say that we are all a bunch of hillbillies- We aren't. I'm a cluts. I've fallen down stair more times than you could imagine! But guess what? I know how to walk. I know how to effectively get down a flight of stairs. I mess up, but I do my best. Also,  I don't always play my instruments perfectly..  Yet I know how. I've taken probably at least hundreds of hours working on it. It's something very important for me, so I've taken the time to learn it. Communication is naturally an important piece of everyone's life- Please, take the time to learn it!

 "Our Modern Day Geniuses"

  This one, I don't even want to talk about. This cat claims to have proper English skills, but in the few sentences written, it already displays the ignorance of mankind. It's missing the comma between "numbered," and "humans."
Our days are not numbered humans. They are numbered, and the sentence is directed toward humans. Grr! In simply trying to find an image displaying proper English, I've only run across the opposite. Yet another example of our civilization going down the drain...

That is all.

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

**Please, warn your children about the dangers 
of improper grammar. The number of grammar related deaths,
this past year alone, has been skyrocketing. 

Don't become a statistic.

Teach your  family. Teach your children. Save a life.
Together, we CAN make a difference!

Jacksonian!

This is my cousin's son, Jackson- Or, as I like to call him, Jacksonian. He's currently in Preschool. Oh, did I mention he's a GENIUS? He's at at about an end-of-first-grade reading level- and I'd say about mid first grade math level. I was seriously blown away by him! Anyway, I thought I'd share this. Don't forget to scroll to the bottom of this page and turn off the music so you can hear him!