32 years ago at this exact moment my mom was in a hospital in the middle of nowhere north dakota waiting for the doctors to induce her so that i could make my glorious entrance into the world. unfortunately for me, there were two other babies that had the audacity to be born on june 13th 1977. so the docs pushed my mom off til the 14th. then another two babies decided they wanted to show. in the end i was finally born on june 15th. 8 days past my forecasted due date, two days later than the scheduled induced birth, & six days before my father's 29th birthday.
that's where i was/what i was doing 32 years ago. so what about for the past two months? i've been sick. i've been struggling. i've been secluding myself. work has been hell on earth. don't get me wrong, i'm happy to have a job. & i'm happy that i have a job that has SOME flexibility so that i can make it to my therapy appointments & my other appointments. for instance this past week i had a total of 6 appointments (2 acupuncture, 2 different nutritionists, a psychiatrist, & a psychologist). yup, i have a whole fucking team of people trying to keep me healthy. er. healthy enough.
my birthday is just 25 hours & some change away. well, that'll be when june 15th dawns here in minnesota. i was actually born just after 7pm, so it's nearly 44hrs until the actual time of my birth in the year the king died (yeah, an elvis reference). i want to keep secluding, but i know it serves no purpose. & i need to write in order to get better. i've been trying very hard to get better. each day i wake up telling myself today i will be in control instead of my eating disorder.
back in april i hit a new low. on the day of my uncle joe's funeral i was so sick that i was unable to attend the funeral. i was at work & getting ready to leave to go to the funeral & i was so dizzy & off balance i couldn't walk without holding onto the wall. it was like i was drunk i was so dehydrated/malnourished. jenn found me at the elevator & took me back to her cube where i called my mom & cried while trying not to draw attention to myself & told her i was too sick to drive to st. paul for the funeral. jenn & another person from work drove me & my car home. i crawled into bed so weak i couldn't even drink water without spilling on myself. & i cried. too petrified to sleep because i was very afraid that if i closed my eyes & fell asleep it would be the last time my eyes were open. in hindsight i should have called 911 & gone to the hospital. or i should have at the very least had a friend with me at my place. i should not have been alone when i was that sick. i really am hoping that is my rock bottom.
how can i not be smarter than my eating disorder? today i was at 4:30pm mass with my mom & i kept staring up at the crucifix over the alter counting the ribs on the figure of jesus on the cross. & wondering why depictions of jesus are always so thin with ribs & joints sticking out. is that the ideal? & even as i type this i'm remembering just a few hours ago when my mom was saying good bye to me & she touched my left wrist as if she was afraid she'd break bones if she applied too much pressure. when i asked her what was wrong she said my wrists are so tiny. & i know there were tears hiding in her brown eyes. tears that she let drop as i shifted from 1st to 2nd & so on as i guided my saturn west from st. paul to plymouth.
today i told my grandma i'm in therapy & dealing with an eating disorder. she hasn't seen me at my sickest so i think it's hard for her to deal with this. she asked me "which one" that i had: anorexia or bulimia (cause those are the only two eating disorders out there. . . .yeah, i'm a bit bitter about that one. not at my grandma specifically, but because that's the most common question i get asked).
i want to write more now, but i'm so tired i can barely keep my eyes open. i think i'll have to log off for now.