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strawberryseedoil
652 M Embraced 5
PathStep 51 Compassion hearts97 Forum posts10 Forum upvotes18 Current upvotes18 Age GroupAdult Last activeSeptember, 2022 Member sinceFebruary 1, 2022
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Recovery
Eating Disorder Support / by strawberryseedoil
Last post
 October 29th, 2022
...See more Nobody talks about how miserable it can be to deal with bulimia recovery. I have had various disordered eating habits for 7 years, but bulimia specifically for 4 or 5. I’ve been to therapy for it a couple of years ago, been to the hospital due to fainting, dealt with repulsive comments from my mother that were quite honestly more sickening than the illness itself, etcetera. It’s been a long journey of on and off binging and purging, but for the past week and a half I haven’t purged at all, and before that I’ve been doing it much less. I’ve gained nearly 15 pounds, and I’m absolutely stuck. Purging for me started as a way to lose weight, but it became much more. It became a way of feeling in control of my life when I realized that I couldn’t control externalities. I’ve struggled with severe anxiety my entire life, but I’ve been subconsciously managing it through my eating disorder. Since I haven’t been doing it, my anxiety has manifested into other aspects of my life, especially my social life. I’m 18 now, and I can’t even stand in line waiting for my food without feeling like curling up in a ball because I think everybody is judging my body language, my image, the way that I speak, pretty much any typical socially anxious thoughts. Too many people, too many opinions, higher chances that someone will find something to single me out for. With my anxiety peaking, I’ve also been trying to quit nicotine, that of which I’ve also been doing for around 3 or 4 years. It’s much more difficult to quit, seeing as though I have additional nicotinic receptors with no nicotine to fulfill, subsequently leaving me with withdrawal and a severe drop in dopamine. I am much more emotional lately, not exactly depressed, just absolutely anxious and fidgety. So, downing 7 shots of anxiety a day before I leave the house, I am left with a brain that won’t ever shut up even though my conscience is so tired. And what did I do today? I bought a vape. I feel terrible. Instantaneous gratification is something that I can’t seem to knock. But this topic is for a different group. Moreover, I get hardly any sleep, sometimes too much, my sleep schedule is just completely wack. I got fired from my job and made useless excuses not to get one and now It’s less than 100 days until I’m moving out (another anxiety) so I REALLY can’t get a job. I suppose what I’m getting at is that recovery is not easy. At all. Dealing with the weight gain, wanting to look how I used to look, only to realize what I would do to myself to look that way… it’s so conflicting. I was so useless when I was purging. I’d faint at work all the time, I’d have no energy, I was starving… and I’m eating fine, my body still looks great and I appreciate it for simply still functioning after the years of torture I put it through, and yet I’m still just… well, I still feel useless. This is just my emotions speaking for themselves though, I know I am much more capable now, and I’ve proved that to myself. I just crave order, and I do not do well when I’m not in control. Trying to knock out two addictions at once is hell, and I HATE feeling like I lack the self-discipline and internal locus of control to successfully quit both. I think the best thing is to just continue doing good deeds for my body and my mental health and hope that my anxiety and negative thoughts will realize they aren’t welcome in due time.
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Lack of clarity
Anxiety Support / by strawberryseedoil
Last post
 February 3rd, 2022
...See more If there’s anything I’ve learned from being having anxiety since I was very young, it’s that “quotes” help A LOT. Short, simple affirmations that supplement the comforting thoughts in your mind. My favorite one is “don’t worry unless there’s something to worry about”. Now, it’s a basic, informally structured sentence but it brings me that little click that reminds me that what I can’t control should be left alone. My dad was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia two years ago. He had already had it for an additional three years. Now, I’ve had depression and anxiety since I was in the third grade. I was bullied by my family and my peers for not fitting their image of a “girl”. I was deemed fat, boyish, and lazy. My dads diagnosis became the worst year of my life. There were times he’d cry at my knees to god to at least let him live long enough to see his little girl get married. This made living unbearable. I was struggling with severe anxiety, depression, eating disorders, and external factors including that, well, my dad is dying and I can’t do a thing about it. I am 18 now. I’ve been through therapy, medication, mindfulness, rock bottom, etc. Mentally, I possess more clarity than I’ve ever acknowledged in myself since I was 8. However, my dad got covid on Christmas Eve. It’s February 1st now and he still has it. He recently became hospitalized, got released, and now he’s staying at his friends house while continuing treatment at home. My world would end if my dad passed away. Im not religious so I have no entity or faith to confide in. I guess my point is, I know in order to deal with these situations is to focus on bettering myself and what I can actually control, but jeez… externalities are really screwing me over. My ED is becoming aggressive again as a way to feel like I at least have control over SOMETHING. I’m trying my best, but I feel myself slipping up, and I’m asking for preventative measures. I don’t want to fall down to rock bottom in depression again, I’ve made too much progress within my mind and body to do that to myself.
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Confused
Trauma Support / by strawberryseedoil
Last post
 February 1st, 2022
...See more Sexual assault is often something very confusing. Many people don’t really understand if what they went through was sexual assault. I guess I’m now coming to terms with this confusion. This message contains, well, vivid imagery. When I was 14, my brother had a best friend. They were both 18. My room had a window in which you could sit on the roof if you climbed out. It was nighttime, and my two brothers and said best friend went out on the roof and got drunk. I drank a bit as well. The night carried on, and one of my brothers went to bed, the other shortly after. I’m not exactly sure why they left him in my room with me, or why he stayed after the last brother left. But he did. And we were casually talking. I’m 18 now, so I’m not exactly sure what led to it but he began to kiss me. I had only ever had one kiss before that, which was a silly truth or dare game in science class of sixth grade. But this went down a bit differently. He kissed me more, and got on top of me, and began to touch me. I was (thankfully) on my period, to which I let him know. So he just felt me over my clothes. A but later he moved my hand to his area and I said not under the clothes. He said okay, took his pants off anyway and moved my hand there anyway. He moved my hand on him with his hand. And I eventually told him I was going to bed. I always felt like I was supposed to like what happened, It felt nice that he wanted me. Like he thought that I was special. I guess I’m realizing now that that’s not the case. To this day, he’s still my brothers best friend and comes to every family event. He hasn’t tried anything since then. I don’t know how to feel, I don’t think about it much, but when I do I wonder if it’s more fucked up than I think. When I was 16, I did acid. For the second time. I was with my best friend. I told her I wasn’t sure if I had prepared myself enough to take it, and that it was already too late in the night that I would still be tripping in the morning. She essentially urged me to drop the tab, and hyped it up, so I took it. We had a list of things we wanted to do. Yeah, so when you trip on acid, the person you’re with will have the same trip as you. Let me just save the explanation and say that my trip was awful, and so was hers. Thought loops, dread, fear, all that fun stuff. Anyway, amidst our god-awful trip, I tried so persistently to fix it. I remember trying to ground ourselves and started playing the Animal Crossing soundtrack, because it was the only thing in the material world that I thought would help soothe this chaos. I turned back at her, and she looked me in the eyes and said “help me”, proceeding to become unresponsive while laying in bed. I did my best to try and get some sounds out of her, saying familiar words and stuff. A little while on she regained her body, to an extent, and began to laugh. You could tell that she wasn’t really there. Now I’m not going to lie, this kinda freaked me out. So I told her I was going to bed. Side note: you can’t fall asleep on acid. So I’m laying there, and I start to hear this… sound. She had begun to masturbate next to me, and I was so afraid to move that I shut my eyes and cried. I cried for someone to come in and help me, to save me from what was happening. The sound consumed thoughts. I stared at the clock for what felt like hours (your perception of time on LSD is altered) and waited to the sound to subside. It never did. I eventually gained the courage to get off the bed and tell her she needed to leave. She just looks at me with a devilish smile. Her iris looked as if they were slits. The visual aspects of what I saw in her expression were very clearly influenced by the acid. I kept telling her to leave and her smile grew bigger each time. So I left. I went to my brothers room, woke him up at 5 in the morning and all I could get out was a repetition of “I’m sorry”. Eventually I was able to say the act of what she was doing. Fast forward, my mom was called back home from work and she called her mom and got my friend to leave. I wasn’t able to go back up in my room for a few days. There were many nights of me rocking back and forth wondering if this was my fault. I did eventually go back up there. It felt weird. Something bad had happened there and I didn’t want to be reminded of it. So I switched rooms with my brother. I never moved back upstairs. And I never took acid again. I told my friend what happened and she told me that she wasn’t touching herself and that it was all in my head. I wasn’t able to talk to her after trying to tell me that I hallucinated a trauma I’ve never experienced. Now, she has unresolved sexual trauma. Whatever she was doing to herself was clearly not her, it was the materialized thoughts of her reliving her trauma while she was tripping. I’m not a screwed up, druggie teenager. I’m fascinated by science, I have all As, and I’m going to college now to get my masters in medical illustration. And I say this because even intelligent teenagers full of potential do dumb stuff, and my fascination with science resulted in my fascination of psychedelics. Anyway, I had flashbacks for a few months after. They went away, and I’m fine now. I ended up reaching out again. A few months ago she accused me of trying to break her and her boyfriend up after giving relationship advice that it was unhealthy and she was being toxic to her boyfriend, which not that this is relevant, but she is emotionally abusing him and he has tried to break up with her many times. I still think about it sometimes, though. I’ve only been able to tell three people this story: my therapist, my current best friend, and my family friend experienced with these subjects. I wish I could confide in my significant other, but his best friend is (of course) the boyfriend of the subject of my story. I’m worried he would talk about it. This is the first time I’ve been able to type this story and feel… neutral. I want to tell my partner because I just don’t want any part of me that I have to hide. I’m very interested in having something genuine, but this story in particular is crucial to my character development and it sucks to feel like I have to keep it a secret to save her reputation. I still care for her. She needs professional help, she’s troubled, and I want the best for her. I wouldn’t tell anybody who knows her in the slightest so that they wouldn’t turn against her or spread rumors.
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