I was very tempted to stay in bed. It is cold and miserable and so am I. Although I am not really miserable I feel the way I always feel until my drugs kick in. John is still in bed.
I am still in a quandary as to whether to give you a long one or a short one but this morning I think I'm just in a go with how it flows.
On Thursday John told me he would not be home that evening or at least the latest he could get home would be the 11:30 PM train at Peterborough which would be far too late for me to go picking him up because of drug timing etc. I was also less than pleased with him because he promised me that he would not ever be doing anything on a Thursday evening and this is about the third time he has done this and it is not a case of him having to it is a case of him wanting to. Anyway 8:30 the following morning and I still haven't had a phone call from him so I called him and he groggily answered the phone. I had a few choice words to say and I went about my day which included swimming. When I returned home at almost 2 PM he was in bed. I still was assuming he had a hangover but it turns out he ate lobster on Thursday night and I think he had a case of food poisoning because the reason he found it so awful when I called him was because he had spent all night in the loo and only got home through the use of Imodium. He spent most of yesterday in bed although towards the end of the day he did not look pale and we did manage to do that bit of shopping we needed at Tesco. I feel torn between feeling sorry for him for being sick because I know awful that feels and annoyed with him for having broken his promise and had a night out with the boys on Thursday night.
In case the people a lot in this country didn't notice we did not have a winter here. They may have had one in Scotland which is much further north but it couldn't have been much of one because I don't remember much in the way of reports and you know what newspaper like any minor incident and its full p•age news. Well so far we haven't had spring either. In fact the weather doesn't seem to have changed. It is still dull and wet though it is warmer but still with frost at night.
I have no idea what John intends doing today about while he is still in bed I am going to knit and watch the ninth series of Grey's Anatomy. I am flummoxed by this program. I hate it. It is utter rubbish. Very melodramatic. And yet I'm on the night series and will watch as many episodes as I can back-to-back. Which for someone who hates it and thinks it's utter rubbish is very strange indeed. Perhaps I don't hate it perhaps it's a bit like sitting and eating a whole box of liquorice allsorts in one go. You really know you ought not because it is just sugar and liquorice and no good fee whatsoever and certainly will do nothing to educate you accept that Yang should have been written out in the first series. How does that woman have friends let alone a husband.
I have just figured out why my post tend to be long. Because I sit here waiting for my drugs to work and I can't sit here doing nothing so I type whatever comes out of my mouth. And you never know I might find the answer to the universe and everything just by rambling I could just hit upon it and peace reign upon this earth. Now wouldn't that be great. especially if I could do whatever I want to do that harm anybody and I could eat whatever I wanted and remain trim. Now that is a piece of growth I said trim I did not say skinny. whereas before anything more than 185 meant I was hideously fat and had no right to go out my door. and I am not kidding. I can't remember size is a mention that period of my life but it was shipped another example of self harm. I always wore whatever clothes I had which were dull and I covered that with a very long coat come winter or summer and I would sneak out to the shops usually to buy a record. If I went on an eating binge I would do the same except that I would go to several different shops because I was so ashamed of myself but I couldn't possibly by more than a couple of food items in any one shop because I was convinced they all knew that I was going to go on and eating binge. I would get home go into my bedroom well my bedsit or my squat lock the door and start unwrapping as if I hadn't ever read and I would stuff myself silly and fall asleep. It felt absolutely wonderful it was piece last the fight was over just for then. Of course I had to face what I had done when I woke up. I would flush everything I had left down the toilet and if it was too large for that I would go out in the dead of night and dump it in a public waste bin far from where I lived. Sometimes the urge to binge which is completely overwhelming and uncontrollable I would eat dog kibble and I have eaten out of dustbins. Can you see now why I never ever want to return to the Colin of those days. I know I had the disease and the lightbulb just went off in my head I am telling you and I'm telling you the worst of it without holding anything back. I used to take 30 Nylax the day because I never did quite get the hang of making myself vomit and I once swallowed a toothbrush in the attempt and I only just managed to retrieve it. I did eventually get put into a world-famous Anorexic unit run by a complete and utter attract whose surname was that of a food which was not an irony I found funny although I do sometimes find it funny now. I went because I thought I would be treated with love and kindness and someone would listen to me about the abuse I had survived. I could not have been more wrong I was given my own room but that room was glass so that they could see me 24 seven. I was treated like a prisoner and not like a patient with the disease. It was terrible. I was eventually discharged in disgrace because I dared to binge, WHAT THE FUCK DI YOU THINKWAS GOING TO DO OF MIGHTY ONE? STOP JUST BECAUSE OF YOUR PRESENCE? no. When the overwhelming urge hit me-the shakes the terrible cold the wanting to die-when that hit me I had to eat I had to get as much sugar in me as possible. Everything was locked except the bins which they did not seem to have thought about but unfortunately somebody else had beaten me to them. So I went out and to my utter shame I ate outside albeit surrounded by bushes. Had I been caught the shame would have been worse than had been caught totally naked and Wang Qing. If you don't have an eating disorder you have no idea what I'm talking about and I assure you I am so grateful that you don't know what I'm talking about. Anorexia/Bulimia are not self-inflicted diseases just as a Agoraphobia is not. any form of self harm is not. I still have scars up both arms where I used to cut myself. Luckily for me that was the final resort and my scars have all but faded so they are not visible unless I point them out to you.
This is why I say that all survivors become abusers. If we do not abuse others we abuse ourselves. I do believe that there is something about us that is broken beyond repair. But that is not an excuse to carry on with self-destructive behaviour or behaviour that destroys others. (Excuse me while I go and kill Megan. well now that has been taken care of. it was quite a messless job really)
What infuriates me is that there is very little in the way of knowledgeable help even in 2014 for people such as I was. It took me from 1975 until 1994 to find the right help. In the meantime I met all sorts of charlatans, sexual abusers, religious nutters, and people who believe that if I licked a little bit of ash that was supposedly part of Sai BaBa;s body I I would become well. I do have a very funny story about one of my experiences but that can wait. I met a lot of people whose only interest in me was to take advantage of me either financially or bodily or they were just on an ego trip and sincerely believed that their claptrap was going to help me.
They say the anorexia/bulimia is all about control. I still have my doubts about it but one day as I was driving to the pool I saw a rather rough looking boy walking along the side of the Dyke shirtless. he was skinny and hard. I knew at that moment in my 50s that that is what it had all been about I wanted to look like that because I believe if I looked like that my father would find me acceptable and others would stop bullying me. I still did not realise that it was my homosexuality that was the issue.
In yesterday's post I wrote about what I did to hide the fact that I was manic. You did not want to find yourself in a mental institution in the 70s or 80s for that matter and from my experience in 94 not then either. They were run by people who did not know what they were on about despite the letters after their name and in front of their name. Many were abusive and condescending. There was the occasional star to keep the light on but otherwise one flew over the Cuckoo's nest got it pretty well right. I thought about film when it first came out and I just knew that that was where I was headed and two years later that's where I was. I stupidly thought it would be much better and safer for me than being at home. It was far worse. I ran away several times but always got caught and brought back and put in solitary confinement and locked up. On one of these escapes I made it down as far as the ocean and there is a bridge between the mainland and one of the islands and I jumped off into the sea however it was a dark and stormy night and I did not know that the tide was out and when I jumped all I heard was SPLAT! and then I had to clear my way through this foul smelling bad until I got the bank were right cleaned myself up as much as I could by rolling around on the grass and I took myself left to the nearest police station and explained that I was a nutter who have escaped from the funny farm, which is what we has torture the camps were called. Fhe funny farm probe them to bring me back but the policeman refused to do so. Instead they called a taxi who took me back and I had to pay for it. £17 which in 1975 note 1977 I mean was a lot of money. they took it out of my care money and they only gave me pies to wheat for the next two weeks so of course I didn't eat.
I did not stop to bring under control this disease until I was in my 30s and yes the thought has already crossed my mind and that of my doctors that the gut problem I have and the bone problem I have could well be the result of that disease. I grew another 2 inches taller when I started to eat properly.
I still get a high out of not eating and overeating on sugar still brings me down and gives me a good night sleep. I rarely do either. I will tell you right now that the one sure way of placing me off is nagging me about my food. To me it is a very private matter despite the fact that I've written all of this to the world to see but my day-to-day eating is a private matter and matter what you say it will not change anything. I.e. to the way that I eat. I wish I didn't. I wish I could be like other people, like my husband, who enjoys his food and he eats absolutely anything yet if I ate what he ate I would be in serious trouble. One of the physical problems which I think is caused by the eating disorder rather than causes the eating disorder is that I produce too much insulin for the amount of sugar have eaten so that eating a doughnut for a normal person would not affect their weight but from me that doughnut would immediately be turned into fat because of the amount of insulin I would have released to deal with it.
I'm going to come to a compromise. I am going to leave this post here but I'm also going to post it on my blogs because then I am keeping my promise to my blog readers who are not on Facebook. It is good for me too because then I can stop feeling guilty about making a promise but I haven't kept to.
I was a agoraphobic for many years, I was obsessed with counting in my head find the in extremis I still do that. When I did eat I had to eat my food in a particular order and preferably in separate files that did not intermix just like that boy in the mysterious case of the missing dog in the night-time. I got such a huge identification reading that book. My doctor says that I am on the autistic spectrum but I would say that I was high functioning..I'm just so sick and tired of labels.
My name is Colin. That is my label purely for identification purposes. Colin has had many different experiences and most of them have been very painful but they have made me very understanding and compassionate toward other people. Colin is happy with that and Colin is still a work in progress and will be until the day I leave my body and even then I will continue to grow as I believe we all wil. however those are my beliefs and I don't care to hoots whether you believe that will not because if you don't believe it I shall be there on the other side when you take your last breath and I will be sticking my tongue out and waving my fingers at you going 'ya ya ya ya.'
