I bet you're wondering why I'm doing my final post so much later than the last post I wrote. The thing is, I was hospitalized, and didn't have a chance to grab my computer before I was admitted. Despite all my best efforts, upon seeing the doctor on Friday, I learned I was still 113 pounds, anemic, and had a resting heart rate of 37. I had no option but the hospital. The good news is the hospitals recovery program is much less rigorous as far as meals go and much more intensive in psychological therapy, which is what I have really needed. Thanks to what I was put through in the past week, I should be able to be healthy again within the next few days. I think from this I've learned that while my mind may be stronger than this disorder, ED still can make tiny victories. I am only human, but for every victory, ED is empowered, and my health drops exponentially. At the hospital, I eat meals with other patients with eating disorders. I see how hard they struggle and I feel sympathy and I also reflect on how far I've come. I almost feel bad that I'm here barely struggling while they have to use every fiber of their being to resist ED. Indeed I was once at that point. However, I don't feel any pride or gratification for having made it through that, and I still ponder why I am eating without feeling any reward or seeing any reward in the near future. I still feel guilt and shame for what I put my parents through, how I tortured them. They keep telling me that it was out of my control, but it felt so lucid. In retrospect, I think the Maudsley method is heavily dependent on the strength and solidarity of family relationships. With my sisters drug problem and my parents shaky relationship, the burden of my disorder was the straw that broke the camels back. All of my emotions were bottled up, with no outlet to vent. Here at the hospital, we have group sessions to talk about how to battle ED using the basic cognitive method, and I can talk to psychiatrists who have seen hundreds of patients with my same problem and know exactly what I am talking about. Its also comforting to know the medical necessity of refeeding. Learning the precarity of my medical situation has opened my eyes. I can rationalize now why I have to do this, even if my heart isn't all there in motivation. My mind is clearing though, it seems. I can go through a whole meal without anxiety sometimes. But another part of me is sad that ED is dying. I want to feel that presence that moves me to exercise. I felt like I was in better shape than I ever have been in the unrestrained months I had the disorder. I feel like I can turn these feelings on their head in a healthy way, by exercising and weight lifting but also eating right, so instead of becoming emaciated I become muscular and full bodied. I'm beginning to feel alive again and it would be unfair to say zyprexa is the only contributing factor to that. Food, my medicine, has saved me. I feel like it is the spring time after the longest winter, and that I am just beginning to thaw. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I feel like I am bursting with potential. The self loathing attitude I held at the beginning of the week has improved significantly. I've realized from every time I couldn't stop myself from purging that this disorder is far beyond my conscious control, and the only time I can fight on its level is at meals. Every time I finished a meal, I broke it just a little. My tiny victories also gave me greater control over myself as time passed. As I must continue after these seven days to adhere to my blog's protocol, I will keep this is mind. I can win, I know, and I will.

I made it through the day, but I've run out of steam. Unfortunately for me, this isn't just some 7 day experiential blog; after today, I have to keep with the same procedure, on and on until I'm better. My problem I'm finding now is just that I feel like once I get better, I will have nothing to live for. My mom tells me I should just eat so I can get better and go to the gym and run like I used to everyday. Indeed, that was what I used to like to do, but only by the force of the disorder which compelled me to exercise every day. Once this is gone, there will be no drive for me to do this, and I will be left deflated and depressed. I feel like I am, that is, the real me, frozen in a cryogenic chamber. What I fear is that the real me will be awakened to a bleak reality. I have thought about it, and I feel like the only way to combat this can be compared to opening a bank account in the distant past, and then going to the future to reap its accumulated wealth. So that the real Andrew will awake in the future with some level of richness in his life, I must create some things to look forward to. The problem is, my current self doesn't take interest in anything and can't think to even the near future. I hope that eating will show me an answer to this problem, as it has before even when I have doubted it. Now more than ever I must put my faith in food as medicine to persevere.

As far as the real events of the day, I actually think I ate less than I've eaten this whole week, and I felt more fatigued for it, which shows the power of nutrition on a depraved body. At breakfast, my dad woke up late, so he couldn't make me anything that big. All I had was a yogurt with ample granola and a banana. For lunch, my mom only brought one small turkey sandwich and a muscle milk. I didn't even eat any snacks today because I had a doctors appointment directly after school and then a scout meeting, leaving no time for that. For dinner, 3 slices of pizza, some salad and milk were mercifully given to me. Because the portions were so much smaller than what I was used to, I didn't hear ED nearly at all today. This is promising, because it shows that I have hope of being normal again in having the ability to eat 3 meals a day without fretting over it. I still am bothered by the fact where as other people get to go back to normal after their blog projects, I have to live this, probably for several more months, I can't see it getting much harder than it has been already, but still, to be able to just quit and be normal would be a most attractive prospect.

A Series of Fortunate Events

It wasn't easy, but I just barely made it through the day without purging. Of course I still was actively trying like hell to at the same time, but my own restraint as well as fortunate circumstances kept me from doing so. First, after breakfast, which I ate quickly so I could get to school early to maybe purge if I couldn't restrain myself first, I rushed to school but hit traffic, and the rear bumper of a migrant workers truck. There was no damage done to his car, but he still wanted 100 dollars from me, which he asked for in broken English. I took a lot of convincing to get him to leave me alone, and when he finally did, I still had to merge back into traffic on the freeway. This made me 20 minutes late, too late to purge even if I had wanted to. Phew. Then at lunch, my dad came late and as I waited after the passing bell my fellow classmates all saw me there, there was no way for me to miss class while purging without being charged of ditching. Furthermore, my dad made sure I went into class instead of going straight to the bathroom as I would've had he not surveyed me. Those were both streaks of luck. But for snack and dinner, it was my own will power that stopped me. First, after having a snack of Jamba Juice my dad chose, he was unable to watch over me to not purge after as he had a meeting with one of his real estate partners. I stood alone in my room, gripping my chair and staring at the bathroom door. I was stalemated until I came up with the idea to take my mind off of things by cleaning up the mess the house was, since my dad and I have the house to ourselves for a few days. Moving quickly, I vacuumed the whole 2 story house, washed the dishes, and did the laundry in a distracted furor. By the time that was done it was too late to purge. Lastly at dinner, my dad fell asleep immediately after. I locked myself in my room and wrote this blog entry, in hopes its content would come true, that had overcome my urges, and so I have. The strength of the human mind when set in motion studiously towards one purpose is incredible, and I think I have learned the simple key to overcoming this is keeping busy. Almost like a shark, my starving mind only works when it is set in motion

Back to School

My parents trusted me enough to send me back to school today. I really am glad they let me go back, but at the same time I was still distracted from work by my need to purge. I don't want school to be taken away from me by the demands of this disorder; I feel that my parents would never let me go back as well if they found I was purging. I did it three times today, but only a bit each time so I wouldn't miss too much class. I came in late to class 3rd period, and my teacher accused me of ditching class. Some other people in my class had noticed my absences due to purging and had noted that I was around school before 3rd period and started incessantly questioning me about my whereabouts. An uncomfortable wave of guilt flushed over me. I began to feel remorse and shame over the lowliness of my actions. Purging isn't pleasant, but missing class to do it in a public bathroom? That is a low I never thought I would reach. I also totally took advantage of my parents fear of me not keeping my food down and convinced them to feed me less. For lunch my mom brought me a big 100 bar and a vitamin water, both of which I eagerly got rid of with time to spare before the bell rang. I felt remorse for this, and ended up telling my parents about it in the session I had with Dr. Jacobs this afternoon. She was vehemently opposed to me going to school because of the purging. She gave my parents hell for ,"conceding to the disorder" by feeding me less, so I expect an increase in my portions tomorrow in response. I really did manipulate them, it's strange because normally I am a trustworthy person but this disorder has made me a lying cheat. I hate myself for not fighting harder against the deceitful streak of ED. I really hope tomorrow I can put down purging for good.

Normalcy

Today I felt surprisingly normal while eating all of my meals. No panic attacks, no remorse or irritability. The only thing I felt was the impulse to purge, and I almost got away with it too a few times. After a soup and sandwich lunch, I slipped down to the garage and made to vomit. Luckily just as I was about to gag, my dad pulled up in front of our house, then proceeded to call me and ask where I was and if I wanted to go help him pick out some plants for our garden. I went with him and it took my mind off of food right away. It is peculiar that I can feel absolutely normal and then just when I'm left alone for a second I cross myself and try to throw up everything I just ate. My mom might let me go back to school tomorrow. I hope she does let me. I don't think I can stand to miss another day. I feel grossly behind already just from missing one day. As long as I don't purge I think I ought to be allowed to go. It distracts me from fretting about food and is the only thing I have right now that gives me a boost to my confidence. I'm noticing its easier and easier to crack a smile now. I haven't been able to do so in months and I must say I'd forgotten the feeling, but it really does feel good to take joy in simple things. I doubt less and less every day that food is medicine. I find it interesting that ones whole being can be altered by a change in diet, and that likewise that the only cure for this is by essentially eating the food that was neglected before. It makes so much sense and I hope to see things in this rationale when ED tries to tell me otherwise

Uppercut

Today I found new strength to fight ED and dealt a major blow. The hiding, spitting out, and purging of food are all manifestations of the disorder that strengthen it through their continued occurrence at meals, They are an out for the disorder, a way for it to manifest itself. I put aside all pretenses and anxieties today, and pretended like I was a normal person eating. Of course, in my head, ED was screaming. It killed him to have no way of manifesting himself. Indeed, after every meal terrible thoughts buzzed about in my head and sent me into panic attacks. What made it worth it for just a bit was upon their subsiding. For a moment, I saw with a new clarity, and was free from ED's grasp. It gave all my struggles a new relevance. I know now what I am fighting to achieve. Normalcy is within my grasp. I can't wait to go through my days without having to follow a strict calorie regimen and without having to worry any longer about what I eat. The toil of fighting against this evil presence I can feel is hardening me, making me a stronger person. By the end of this, I will have an iron resolve. So much that I once considered difficult will become easy. Unfortunately this experience is taking its toll on my relationship with my parents. I feel like such a terrible burden to them, and I know they have grown weary with me. They are more callous towards every bit of resistance I put up. This serves as an even greater incentive for me to follow orders. I really just want them to be happy with me, and I understand that my resistance stresses them out more than they need. I want to get through this so they no longer have to feed me every single meal painstakingly bite by bite. I hate to be a liability and I just hope my dad especially understands that I'm trying my hardest to make this end quickly. Hopefully if I can continue my methodology that I used today I can kick this in weeks as opposed to months

Lockdown

I've been put under house arrest. No funny business here. Any purging, any substantial hiding of food will result in hospitalization. I feel like I've been thrown into a box. I feel so stupid for being such a burden to my parents. My disorder forces them to watch me at all times. After breakfast, I tried to throw up again, this time into a big ziploc bag. My, dad, luckily, caught me before I could do it. Before any of this, I was independent in nature, I never liked my parents to do much for me. But now, I can't even help myself anymore. I still find myself vehemently resisting food in whatever small way I can. Today at lunch, I was just fine having a normal sized sandwich and some milk for lunch. Then my mom decides that my sandwich was not sufficient for a starving child, and proceeded to put 2 more slices of turkey and cheese into it. In another retaliation, I was lowered to spitting my sandwich down my shirt. I didn't get out of eating any substantial amount of food by doing this, but it feels like a coping mechanism to me really. By feeding this manifestation of the disorder, I can think. This illustrates that I am still dependent on the disorder and that it is still a deep rooted part of me. But right now, the front line of this battle is now turned to eradicating my new compulsion to purge. Sitting at home with nothing to do, ED takes over my head, so doing this is made much more difficult. I'm determined not to throw up, and despite what the disorder says, resisting is the stronger thing to do. What perplexes me about my disorder is that I have no shame when it comes to the means of getting out of eating some amount of food. When I cheat, I feel good and I can be happy, but when I follow the rules I am rewarded with a cloud over my thoughts and a distinct irritability. My physical fullness is also a block in my ability to eat what is put in front of me. I know I'm supposed to be a starving child, but I wish my parents could understand I really do just feel sick from all the food they are giving me sometimes. But whenever I say that, they call BS and say that is an illusion caused by the disorder. It frustrates and confuses me, and I feel like I can't talk as myself directly to my parents, to them I am a shifty and two faced being. I wonder if in my starvation induced delusion that really is what I look like to everyone and I just don't see it. Whatever the case, I hope that the day comes soon when I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, because I feel like I am doing this blindly without purpose otherwise. For dinner tonight, my dad's "treat" was in-n-out. I nearly had a panic attack driving him there, just thinking about how much he was about to make me eat. We got it to go in the drive thru and brought it home. On the way into the house, I lagged behind purposefully and poured out a good amount of my vanilla shake. He didn't notice. I ate all of my burger without complaining, but I hid many of my fries up my sleeve. In drinking my shake, I spit much of it out by pretending to wipe my mouth with a napkin and spitting the shake into it. This worked for a while till my dad caught wind of it. He made me drink the small amount that remained of the shake, but not before it could spit it down my shirt again.I swear, if I could make it through a full 3 meals without doing any sort of food jettisoning, I'd be so much better off. I apologize to my reader for not following the guidelines I set out in the beginning of this blog, but that is simply not the nature of this illness. To eat as little as possible of what my parents give me is ED's objective, and unfortunately he is doing too good of a job. Tomorrow I am going to be tougher on myself to not do that and make sure my parents are vigilant in preventing me from doing so.

Raising the stakes

Breakfast was quite degrading. My parents are just rubbing it in my face that they can get away with feeding me whatever the hell they want that will make me gain weight, it seems. That's probably just ED talking, lately I can't tell. I know all the food they give me is supposed to heal me, but I can't help feeling like if they just gave me normal amounts of food the evil thoughts of ED would subside. At the same time I realize that one, I am not at a healthy weight so I can't safely eat normal amounts of food without losing more weight, and two, that the only reason the voices would cease momentarily would be because they had been appeased, and I can't let them win that way. For breakfast I had a huge 3 egg omelet of cheese and bacon, 2 pieces of toast and a whey protein shake. Now that last part is the worst. 2 parts whey powder, 3 parts yogurt, 1 part strawberries. The result was something I felt heavily inside of me for the first half of the school day. The process of eating this first meal was not as hard as it could have been. I hated it, but I knew that if I pulled any crap like eating the meal really slow to lower their vigilance and then stashing the food in an odd jacket pocket, I'd probably be late for school. I'd just have to fend off the angry ED from filling my head with dissenting thoughts, easier said than done. Indeed, all of 1st period I felt contorted into a knot from the stress. I just couldn't stop thinking about food. I feared what meal would come next, and I still am fearing tomorrow. I can't console myself over the fact that I'm going to gain weight. It feels like a part of my livelihood is undone every time I gain a pound. ED worked hard to get me to a malnourished state and intends to keep me there. "You are weak" it tells me. "Why didn't you try harder to resist?" it seethes. I can't concentrate and I feel terribly crushed by the burden of these thoughts. "Shut up, I'm working on my mini mag" I scream at them. They abate, gradually, and I take a deep breath.

 Lunch comes next, with more degradation to be had. Because I can't be trusted to eat lunch on my own, my Mom drives to school, and I have to sit in her car in the parking lot while she watches me eat. I duck my head every time someone passes. What else does my Mom bring but Rubio's? Unfortunately in my compulsive way I know all of the nutritional information for every menu item, and it just so happens she got the most calorie dense item on the menu, the beer battered fish burrito. How cruel can one be? ED rears its ugly head. There will be retaliation. In a rage filled furor I devour the burrito, barely chewing it. My mother, ecstatic that I appear to be cured of my food phobia, congratulates me. I brusquely thank her and exit the car, heading straight for the bathroom. I enter the stall, shove my fingers down my throat, and dump my burden. I feel ashamed. In my food induced terror, I created another problem that will now have to be fixed. Purging is more addictive than simple restriction, more neurotic and terrible. I skip 3rd period and sit in the media center. I can't look anyone in the eyes. When I come home, my dad tells me he heard about how well I did on the burrito and lunch and pats me on the back. Come on. Thats when I remembered I had another appointment with Dr. Jacobs the next , where I would be weighed. My goose was cooked, and I realized the contingencies would probably be worse if I didn't fess up. I told them everything that had happened and my Mom called Dr. Jacobs. She recommended I be taken out of school. My parents, vindictive by my violation of their trust, comply. So here I am stuck at home, away from the only thing that makes my efforts relevant. I am determined now. No more set backs, I am going to follow the program, or else I have been told I will be hospitalized. How is that for motivation. I am really hoping I can finish the semester in school and that this will only be a temporary medical leave, but we will see.

Meet ED

"Food is medicine," or so Dr. Joy Jacobs has told me, but despite my inclination to believe her every thought of eating is still quite sickening . For my week long endeavor, I will be doing something that comes naturally to most people: eating 3 meals a day. You might wonder why I would choose such a project, it seems pretty mundane, right? Well, you haven't met ED yet. ED is my alter-ego. ED wants to kill me. He is quite anal when it comes to my diet, and restricts me to miniscule amounts of food over intense daily exercise. You may also know this manifestation as anorexia. For several months, I have been guided by this voice in my head. It has become my being and my sole purpose for existence. I have given up all interests, friendships, and aspirations to pursue it. I do not know why ED is in my head; whether it was caused by depression, anger, or insecurity with my own body, but I do know one thing: I want myself back. I recently told my parents that I believed I had this disorder and needed help, so we are now seeing Dr. Joy Jacobs, an eating disorder specialist for help. For this week and on until my illness is eradicated, I will be following a widely accepted treatment regimen for anorexia, the Maudsley method. This consists of "refeeding" the patient, through six meals a day, breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner, snack. This will continue until I reach an acceptable weight. At the moment I weight 112.6 pounds, and I have been told I need to be around 135. As I write this, I still find this method hard to accept. It seems harsh to throw someone who has been eating just over 1000 calories a day straight into eating 3000 calories. I know there will be severe physical side effects as well as mental as my body adjusts to ingesting such massive amounts of food. As another rule: I am not allowed to purge (throw-up) any of my meals, hide any part of my meals, or exercise surreptitiously. Unfortunately, I can't guarantee you that I will be able to uphold those promises. My parents have stocked our pantry with foods so heinously fattening ED will surely have a panic attack. When ED has a panic attack, I lose control, and I become an unsavory character. I would almost compare it to Gollum and Smeagol; that Gollum is so much stronger however when I am around food. I want to cast this disorder into the fires of Mount Doom and walk away freed from this burden, but at the same time I am afraid to. I've been in such a depressed state, possibly because I am far below the starvation threshold as Dr. Jacobs has told me. But I've been feeling so depressed that following the routine I have been on the disorder seems to be the only thing that would give my life substance. In order to succeed at this, I will need to take a leap of faith, to truly believe that food is medicine, that it will solve my myriad of problems, and hopefully, by the end of this, the dilapidated mess my life seems to be at the moment will fall together again.