Disorderly Eating

I have an eating disorder.  I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but I don't think I've ever talked about it in serious detail. Well, the present time seems appropriate to tell the tale, as I'm currently, right this minute,  in the process of researching the ABC diet.  The ABC diet is also known as Ana Boot Camp (ana is a slang term for anorexia nervosa). In my lifetime, I've had doctors tell me I was anorexic and I've had doctors tell me I was bulimic. I don't know what I am, but it's definitely a disorder.  There's a very loud voice inside me that tells me this is unhealthy, that I'm verging on a relapse, that I should NOT be checking out new, extreme ways to get thin. The ABC Diet lasts 50 days, and is built around a very strict caloric restriction.  Days of fasting are interspersed with days of consuming a maximum of 500 calories.  The calorie intake changes day to day, but the lowest day on the program allows a mere 50 calories. Most days average around 200-300 calories a day. Diet experts say that the minimum recommended daily calories consumed should be no lower than 1000-1500.  So this diet has risks. Any diet has risks, but this particular diet puts the dieter at risk for low blood sugar, which causes low energy and dizziness. Other risks include malnutrition, fatigue, sensitivity to cold temperatures, paranoia, depression, a learned obsession with calories, fat and sugar intakes, and an increased likelihood to participate in other dangerous eating rituals.  Now here's what scares me.  It would be a walk in the park for me to stick to the calorie counting.  There are many days in which I consume less than 500 calories, and I fast at least once a week.  This would just mean getting a food diary and keeping track of every calorie I consume.  So really, it wouldn't be all that hard for me to stick to the diet's rules.  It worries me/us that we are considering starting this diet Monday.  I have a wedding to go to in 4 weeks-that's half the time of the diet.  I really, really would love to shed some pounds before that date. It's a family wedding-I'll be in the photos-and I would hate to ruin a beautiful wedding picture by looking too fat.  It doesn't help anything that the bride has an amazingly hot body. She's tall and thin and gorgeous; I have no desire to stand next to her in any photos. But back to my point-I believe I could do the food part of the diet.  The hard part is that you have to exercise obsessively, preferably something super intense like P90X. There's no way I could handle that kind of workout in my current state of health.  I am simply too out of shape to follow such a hardcore program; sad but true.  I have no strength and no endurance.  It would take me so long to get used to the exercise portion of this diet that half my progress would be spent just getting to a "normal" fitness level.  I just don't know how to remedy this situation.  I can start working out today but there's little chance I can speed up my metabolism and start burning the kind of calories that this diet recommends.  I currently eat so little every day that my body has gone into "starvation mode"-this is according to my medical doctor-and is therefore hoarding calories and storing fat within me. My doctor actually told me that to lose any weight, I'd have to start eating more.  So perhaps this ISN'T the right diet for me, as it certainly isn't an increase in my food consumption, but rather a steep decrease.  I just don't know what to do. 

I remember the very day I first decided that I was fat.  I was in 3rd grade, just 8 years old, and I was not at all overweight. (Have you heard this story before? If so, I apologize for being repetitive.)  The weather was very warm and I was wearing shorts. I was sitting in class, in my desk, and I happened to look down at my thighs.  I couldn't help but notice how, when they were pressed flat against the seat, they spread out much wider than when I was standing.  Something clicked in my mind, and right then and there I decided that I was too fat.  I went home and walked to the store and purchased my very first diet soda. I hate to age myself, but it was a Tab; that was the only diet soda made at that time.  It was sweetened with saccharin, and so it was bitter.  I didn't like it, but I forced myself to drink those cancer-causing ingredients, and so began a lifelong habit of drinking diet sodas.  I've been drinking them so long now that I usually can't tell the difference between a regular soda and a diet soda; I'm just used to the bitter taste.  I've been a Diet Coke fiend since it was first introduced, and to this day I drink mostly coffee and Diet Coke.  I realize now that this is a terrible habit, and that even diet sodas still cause bloating and weight gain.  I understand that I must give up my Diet Coke habit in order to successfully lose enough weight to make myself "happy" (whatever that means). So I'm ready. I'm drinking coffee right now, and after I'm done I shall switch to drinking water for the rest of day. I intend to drink water only everyday from Monday until we leave for the wedding, which is on May 19.  I also intend to ingest diuretic pills so as to shed even more water weight.  I realize that this is a quick fix and that I'll only be losing water, not actual fat, but that's OK right now.  I just need to shed some pounds for the wedding; I can begin to focus on body mass index after we get back from the wedding trip. The wedding is out of state, and my husband and my mother and I are driving down for the whole weekend. Mom has to be there for the rehearsal dinner, as she's the grandmother of the groom.  My husband and I are not in the wedding, but we are attending both the wedding and the lavish reception, which is to be held at a mansion in Savannah, Georgia.  It's a very long drive for us, but since my husband has never been to Savannah, and because I simply adore that city, I am really excited to make the trip.  The wedding and everything surrounding it should be a blast.  I will get to spend time with my big sister, whom I rarely see as she lives in Utah, and my niece and of course my nephew is the groom.  He lives in L.A. and so I only see him once a year or less.  He's very, very health/fitness conscious, and I dread having him see how much weight I've gained since he last saw me.  The weight gain is not due to overeating, but rather is a side-effect of the medication which I must now take.  Worst. Side effect. Period.

I first began my dance with medication and weight gain when I was 16 and the doctor put me on Lithium; I gained about 30 pounds. I was horrified at how puffy my face got.  But I endured it until the day came when my medication was switched. Some of the pills they put me on caused me to lose weight, and that was always a pleasant bonus for me.  But many of the psychotropic medications I've been given over the years have had the unwanted side-effect of weight gain, often substantial.  I'm currently prescribed six different medications: 2 atypical anti-psychotics, a regular anti-psychotic, an SSRI antidepressant, an NDRI antidepressant, and an anti-anxiety medication of the benzodiazepine class.  I have no idea which ones of these drugs are causing the weight gain, but when I began my newest prescription I noticed a jump in my weight, a big one.  And so it could be that more than one of them is causing the weight gain; but which ones do I give up to lose the extra pounds?  And seriously, is it worth it to lose my mind in order to be thin? (someone inside me is screaming "Absolutely!")

Now as far as my eating disorder goes, I've been showing signs and symptoms since that fateful day when I was 8.  After that first Tab, I became obsessed with calorie counting and sugar, fat, and carbohydrate control.  I quit using sugar and switched to an artificial sweetener, and I began buying reduced-fat, low-cal, and sugar-free foods. I also began to regulate how much I consumed and adhered to a strict diet.  It was also around this time that I began to exercise obsessively.  At the age of 10 I went running until my legs turned to jelly, played tennis, did aerobics (with my Jane Fonda videotapes), and wouldn't go to bed at night until I'd done a specific number of sit-ups (100) and leg lifts and other floor exercises. All these behaviors stayed with me throughout my teenage years and by high school I'd begun fasting. There were several occasions wherein I passed out at school from lack of food.  But then my prescriptions changed and I gained weight and it was out of my control.  So I began making myself throw up.  After a while, it was easy.  I got sick every time I ate.  This helped drop some weight but was very unhealthy.  I didn't care though. I continued to starve myself and fast and throw up and eventually, in my 20s, I began using laxatives as well.  It was in my 20s that I reached my lowest weight.  I achieved this through the use of diet pills, which were basically just speed, and also I quit taking my psychiatric medications.  If I got hungry, I'd pop a pill and smoke a cigarette instead of eating.  The diet pills, along with the starvation, the obsessively exercising, the vomiting and the laxatives all helped me achieve a weight of 98 pounds.  I was so proud of that fact, although at the time I was convinced that if I'd only lose "a few more pounds" I would really look good.  I remember the constant weigh-ins. I was always on a scale, and I obsessed over each and every pound. Later, my doctor made me get rid of the scale, and I'm forbidden to own one now.  I remember lying in bed, running my hands along my rib cage, counting each rib to see how bony I was.  I also took great pride in having pelvic bones which stuck out prominently.  And I'd lie there and suck in my stomach and see how concave I could get it.  When I see the photos of me from that time, it's bizarre because I'm torn in different directions--the K(s) with the eating disorder think I look good, while the other K's think I look frail and unhealthy. I remember what a typical day's food intake was back then: no more than 5 saltine crackers and a plain baked potato.  That's it, along with coffee and Diet Coke.  And I fasted every 3rd day.  It's amazing I didn't cause some sort of permanent damage to my body. But this is my life, or how it's been for most all of my life.  I also later went through a phase, at age 30, where I'd gained so much weight due to the medications I was on that I became seriously depressed and absolutely gave up at one point and began compulsive overeating. I'd binge and eat everything I could find.  I could eat a whole package of cookies, and sometime I did.  I'd eat like this at night, so that no one would know about it. I was ashamed and I hid my eating.  No one ever saw me eat-it was my secret. But I reached my heaviest weight during this time, and that was 183 pounds. (God, it's hard to admit that, even though I don't weigh that much anymore.) The throwing up and laxatives and diet pills came into play again and I shed it eventually, but because of the medication I am on, it's been a lifelong struggle with my weight-it goes up and down.  Right now, I'm somewhere in the middle, but on the chubby side in my opinion (thank you new meds). I currently flip-flop between complete starvation and binging and purging.  My husband doesn't know about all these habits of mine, and I intend to keep it that way.  All he needs to know is that I want to look good for him, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes.  So I've stocked up on a variety of appetite suppressants, carbohydrate blockers, metabolic stimulators, and calorie-restricting pills.  Plus some good old fashioned "legal speed".  I'm not sure how all of these things are going to fit in with The ABC diet, or if I can fit them in at all.  I don't know exactly how I intend to shed this weight, but I guarantee you it will be unhealthy as hell.  And I will adhere to my strict diet and exercise program at least until the wedding.  After that, we'll settle into a healthier-eating/daily exercise routine and hopefully I can achieve a desirable, "normal" weight.  I just hope I can properly gauge what a "normal" weight is. I can't continue to live this life of extremes.  It's getting more and more dangerous as I get older, and I'm beginning to fear for my health...but not enough to stop. 

Journal Entry

SUNDAY, APRIL 15, 2012

1:00 PM
I'm back. I, being the persona who's writing this post, being, I believe, (I hate to say it yet I'm excited by it as well), it is I--Switch Kellie. That's the name Husband gave to me when he first met me in January 2012, just a few days before our 2nd wedding anniversary if I'm not mistaken.  It was quite the night, that night of our introduction. Switch Kellie is mentioned here: Blog Post A and here: Blog Post B I'm faced once again with the choice of whether or not I should tell Husband that I'm here.  I'm wondering if he'd notice eventually anyway...I mean, there are clues. For one thing, I'm making lists. Tons of highly-detailed lists, of a variety of things.  What to do, Who to call, Where to go, etc. I'm also doing a lot of paperwork, researching, Googling, taking notes. I have so much work to do, I fear I won't have enough time to finish it all.  It is 1:02 PM and I'm pausing just long enough to make a note of the current time, so that I might be able to keep up with how long I've been here. Here being this moment in time, this "now". How I value time...probably because I lose so much of it. *deep breath* OK, feeling a panic attack coming on...I better go take the meds I forgot to take this morning, since it's now time for the afternoon pills.  Drat.


4:28 pm
 I'm still here, or so it would seem.  I successfully kept my presence a secret and now Husband has gone to work so I'm safe for a few hours. If only I can keep Mom from noticing. I think she might be suspicious, because I was making and maintaining eye contact with her earlier.  That's NOT something I can do very easily, and it's rare that I even try.  But I did it without thought or effort, just action. Just knowing. Just do it.  Oh dear God, have I ended up a Nike commercial rip-off? Sigh. Went to a chocolate festival with Husband this afternoon; he wants to go walk thru the carnival rides section tonight after work, so we just hit the food and vendors side today. There was an appalling lack of chocolate at the supposed chocolate festival. Now, let's get serious. I can't believe how bad this "Kellie World" situation has become. For one thing, K totally flaked out and forgot to pay a number of bills last month. Now I'm getting phone calls from people wanting their money. I had to combine money from my savings and checking accounts to cover them, and even then I had to borrow money to cover everything, since I had 2 months' payments due. *Sigh*  For another thing, K is really looking bad, in so many different areas.  Her skin is all messed up; stress has caused her to break out all over, and her Dermatillomania has caused her to pick at all the zits. Therefore, she looks like an acne-ridden teenager.  Her arms also look horrendous from CSP (compulsive skin picking) so she's been wearing long-sleeves even though the temperatures have been in the 80's F.  Her self-injury is the worst it's been in years-her calves are covered in big, bloody scabby sores. Gross. The new medications have made her gain weight so she sees herself as obese now, although that's probably not really the case. (Maybe it is though, we really don't know how to tell; we see a fat person in the mirror no matter how much I weigh)  Still, it's a major stress factor in K's life. Her hair color needs to be touched up-she's got roots showing, and her bangs are far too long.  I can't tell you the last time she had a manicure, and her nails look like hell. Apparently we've been biting them, just like old times. HA. So NOT funny.  I've been binging on Easter candy lately, and that has got to stop immediately. Also, it's time to start working out regularly again, better yet obsessively.  K has some vitamin deficiencies and needs a multi-vitamin supplement, which she's not been taking. She's been flip-flopping between starvation and overeating. Binging and purging is the norm around here on days that she eats. There is no happy, healthy medium.  This is the worst, perhaps, she's ever been; I don't mean the thinnest of course, I mean nutritionally speaking. K is very unhealthy at the moment. I mean, K is unrecognizable.  Her face is so puffy from the medications that she looks positively round. It's a nightmare. Very unattractive.  And we're supposed to go to our nephew's wedding in mid-May.  Damn.  So much business to attend to, even without all the physical makeover stuff that I must now do.  K has utterly let herself go, and I'm ashamed of her.  Obviously, she's quite depressed.  That's the number one reason she looks this bad.  Am thinking perhaps this switch was brought on by the stress of having to sleep with Mom again recently so that I would be able to hear her calling my name (she was in so much pain the she got scared and kept calling out for me).  I was afraid I'd not wake up seeing as how Dr. H increased my nighttime meds to 4 pills a night rather than 3.  And indeed, I slept long after Mom had gotten up. I slept in til about 8:15 this morning.  Well, not I per se, but us. The K's.  This K is getting antsy now.  Feel the urge to go clean something, or to self-pamper, to give myself a deep conditioning treatment and a fizzy foot soak and a mani/pedi and then I've got to get off my fat ass and get to work.  The bathroom needs sanitizing.


6:09 pm
 Paranoia is putting crazy thoughts in my head. This is making me wonder if I'm faking it, this dissociative disorder. Is this all just in my head?  Am I really all that different from the other K's? Signs point to yes, as I am thinking more clearly and quicker and just...differently.  I see things in a whole other light than what K sees.  I'm more responsible than she is, more able to multitask, I'm more mature and dependable. I don't do drugs. Cigarettes? No. Not Switch Kellie. I might have a drink or two (well, I would if I were allowed to drink; my meds interact badly with alcohol) but I'm definitely not a party girl. I'm more serious than that.  I think about things like our future...Mine and Husband's....I think about what's going to happen after Mom dies. I don't know if we'll be able to continue to afford to live here in this house. Plus, Sis will probably want to sell the house and split the money.  I would do anything for Mom, I'd give away all that I have if it'd make her pain stop. The Dilaudid seems to help a lot, and they gave her some pain patches which I've cut in half and put on her back and chest. Things with Hubby's health are sketchy too. His asthma attacks are getting frequent and more serious. Aunt B gave us some Advair that she had for her husband but he never used. Too bad she gave it to us the day after we'd spent $266 (borrowed from Mom) on a month's supply. At least by the time those run out he'll be enrolled and active in the discount prescription drug plan at the medical complex and can get his meds for like $15 or something. What else has been happening? It's so hard to remember.  A few things on my Master List:  Wash car, Fax letters to banks to add me to Mom's account, a facial masque, dusting the bedroom, cleaning the bathroom, painting the porch, refill the sugar canister, blog about Switch Kellie, Cancel online gaming subscription, etc.  Notice how the list is so scattered-they can be trivial, like the sugar dish, or labor intensive, such as painting the porch. I also have written down to call a dermatologist. It's time to get my legs looked at. What started out as a light rash has now become large scaly patches of itchy, red skin. I've been self harming by scratching them until there are bloody holes in my legs, and now I have awful looking scabs over most of my calves in a spotted pattern. It's quite a shame. I've been trying to let Crickette (Husband's little dog) lick the wounds to help them heal. Speaking of Crickette, did I tell you that Mom was telling me what she wanted on her headstone (just what someone who's a big baby with abandonment issues wants to talk about), and she said she wants her dogs. Sam (Daddy's, now Mom's schnauzer) & Crickette, their photos or engravings or something like that on her marker.  I told Husband that and he teared up; said it was touching.  I thought it was sad to be thinking stuff like that.  But I, being the smart one, know in my heart that Mom is not much longer on this earth.  I don't know if she can ever learn to live with the pain of PHN. She told me that she understands now what Daddy had to go through all those years he was suffering. I would do anything to take away her pain; I can only wake her up to give her Dilaudid, put ice packs on her back, and stick pain patches on her.  She squeezed my hand really tight tonight and thanked me for taking care of her.  I told her that I didn't really do much, and she said "You're here with me, and that's something". Or something along those lines. Damn I can't remember exactly as I keep switching, or trying to switch or something.  Something happened to me sometime around 1 pm this afternoon, and I became Switch Kellie.  I don't drink, or at least very rarely/lightly, and I don't smoke and I don't do drugs. I enjoy reading and crossword puzzles and brain teasers and philosophical debates and hot cups of tea in my "#1 Wife" (isn't that funny? as in #1 of many) mug that Hubby gave me for Christmas.  Now I think, but I can't really be certain without going back into the bedroom and asking Husband the question, but I think that I told him that Switch Kellie was out. He asked, I believe, if "the other Kellie was here", and I told him I'd been here since this morning but didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to freak him out.  But it must not have freaked him out, or else he's just drunk enough beer to cope really well, for he's back there now on the phone with his buddy, not even thinking twice about me or her or any of us.  OK, I've got to get back to my list. I have so many things to do and so little time to do them all. Well, I don't know how much time I have actually; I've stayed over a week before...longer if I'm needed.  OK. Gonna change clothes and start cleaning the bathroom.  Also going to dust the bedroom ceiling/corners/walls.  Need to get some sticky tape and remove the dust from my wigs, especially my favorite blue & black one. I hope it's not ruined.  :(  The K that wears the wigs hasn't been around in a long time, that's why the wigs are all covered in dust.  She last came out.. I believe the year was 2008 or 2009. I really should tell you about her sometime; I find her fascinating, if I do say so myself.  And I do say so, to myself. HEHE  Mental illness humor.  OK, now let's see. Here are the facts as we know them: Switch Kellie was triggered, possibly by stress (from worrying about Mom's health and money and Husband's asthma), possibly by the new increased medication dosage.  At any rate, she's here now, I'm here now, I am in control and I will see to it that all this business gets taken care of.  K has let her finances really get into a mess. We have to close one bank account and switch to a credit union account in order to save $11/month.  We have to write letters and fax them to banks and financial institutions, so that I can do banking for my mother and also talk to phone support about her accounts. OH and VERY important-we have to find our misplaced medical insurance cards!!! Or call and request new ones.

5:15 am (Monday)
Sigh. So much to do. K has really dropped the ball here. But I'm a hard worker.  I've already cleaned everywhere, thoroughly. I never went to bed last night because I felt like I had too much to do, and so I cleaned all night/morning instead of sleeping.  There's just so much that needs to be taken care of.  So much adult stuff.  Not many of the K's can handle adult stuff, so I've got to hurry up and accomplish as much as is humanly possible before I go away again.  If only I knew how to control which one of us comes out when... wow...I'd be like a super hero! *mind wanders again*

The Care and Feeding of Us- Part II

We've talked about K's bizarre food preferences (The Care & Feeding of Us-Part I); now I'm going to tell you how her mental illness affects the physical way she eats.  In Part I, I think I demonstrated  that she's OCD when she eats (in that no foods on her plate can touch, and no food in her mouth can mix), but I'll go even further.  I'll tell you just how OCD K really is. It takes her a long time to get ready to eat.  She has to prepare her plate, by separating her food into categories.  There are different categories for different types of food; some foods are separated by color, others by texture or shape.  Let me give you an example:  K loves Lucky Charms cereal, but she must eat it in a certain way.  First, she eats all of the crunchy oat pieces out of the bowl.  Next, she eats each marshmallow one color and shape at a time, and in a specific order (In this case, yellow is first, blue is always last).  K "saves the best for last", so if there's a bite she's especially interested in, say the crunchiest, blackest part of her well-done hamburger, she'll eat that bite last, after the rest of the burger has been eaten.  Also, she always eats symmetrically. Take one bite from the left side, take one bite from the right side.  One bite from the meat/entree, and one bite from each side item, in a counter-clockwise direction.  Yes, this is time-consuming, but she's compelled to do it. 

 Food is often cut or separated into small pieces before she begins to eat, and this serves two purposes: it allows her to equally distribute a sauce or gravy onto bites of food, and it also gives her the ability to easily count the number of bites she eats.  I'm not going to go into great detail here, let me just say that K does a kind of numerology, and the number of bites eaten has to be what K considers to be a "good" number (3 is the best number).  During this process, K is also "editing" her meal, meaning she's picking out everything green as well as anything unwanted, such as peppers or onions,  plus she scrapes off any unwanted sauce.  At home, of course, she has to do less of this; her husband does the cooking and tries to accommodate her tastes.  Some things can't be made to K's liking and she has to pick out a lot of ingredients (example=chili).  Needless to say, K is a slow eater, and she can be terribly self-conscious about all of these rituals, so she prefers to eat in private.  (Not all of the K's are like this; some of us are less uptight and enjoy dining out very much.)  It's so complicated just to get a bite to eat!

Of course, the K(s) with an eating disorder tries to avoid eating altogether, and will take diet pills and appetite suppressants and guzzle energy drinks instead of consuming food.  I am trying to get K to be more health-conscious, but I'm outnumbered by the other K's.  Before the ARDS incident (When Do People Sleep Around Here?), our breakfast/lunch consisted of two pots of coffee and however many cigarettes we could chain smoke during the consumption of that coffee.  Now, we don't smoke (well, I think The Kellie does), but we still drink our two pots of coffee in the morning.  And then we can, and often do, drink additional cups or a pot at night.  K is a coffee fiend.  Probably not the best thing, considering how poor her diet is... and the worst part of all is that she doesn't even take vitamins.  Her doctor put her on some prescription strength vitamins once, but she threw them up (perhaps her body didn't know what to do with nutrients!), so now we don't take any sort of supplements.  I know we should, and every January I make a New Year's resolution to take vitamins everyday, but our memory is so bad we always forget... On many occasions I've found bottles of vitamins, some expensive, and the bottle is always nearly full but has expired, so it appears that I try to get K to take vitamins at times, I just can't stick around long enough to see that she actually takes them.

I wish that I, and Switch Kellie (aka Smart Kellie), could join forces and take control of K's body and mind and see to it that she develops some healthy habits.  I've been trying to get Switch Kellie to come back out-I can feel her just under the surface of our consciousness; she's always with us, listening, since this last "episode"-but so far she just speaks to me, not through me.  Hopefully, one day soon, Switch Kellie will come forward again and take over and whip us back into shape; I'm good at controlling K's cravings and monitoring her food intake, but I need Switch Kellie to motivate us to work out.  All of this sounds absolutely nuts, and I suppose it IS, but this is the reality that we, the K's, are currently existing in.   ...and wouldn't you know it?  My stomach is growling, but we can't agree on whether or not we're hungry.

The Care and Feeding of Us-Part I

K is hungry.  That's not unusual for her.  You can often hear her stomach rumbling from lack of food.  She's trained herself to ignore the hunger.  We have to feed her, for survival's sake, but I don't like to.  I don't like to eat.  In fact, I hate it.  I wish there were some sort of pill we could take instead of having to eat; I would give up food altogether.  K has very eccentric eating habits.  She's been a weird eater pretty much since she started eating solid food.  For example, she won't eat anything that touches another food on her plate.  Nothing can touch.  She'd love to have those sectioned cafeteria trays to eat from.  Another weird thing is that she can only have one type of food in her mouth at a time, and she won't even take a drink until she's swallowed that bite of food.  Nothing can mix.  Her mother always says, "It all goes to the same place!" but this does not change K's attitude toward her food.  If you think that's weird, it gets even weirder.

K says she "doesn't eat plants", meaning she doesn't like fruits or vegetables.  There are some exceptions: potatoes and corn.  Also, she'll eat beans two ways: baked beans, or refried beans.  The weird fruit habits are these: she loves (some) fruit flavored foods, like blueberry flavored anything, but she won't actually eat the real fruit.  She'll eat cherry pie, but she'll pick out all the cherries.  She likes orange juice only if it's mixed with champagne or vodka.  She's never actually eaten an orange or a banana or a strawberry, and she only has an idea of what fruits taste like if they have a jelly bean flavor for her to sample.  One more thing, anything with seeds is definitely off limits.  OH yes, and Rule Number 1: No green foods.  It's interesting to note that K loves blue foods however.

Since she's the ANTI-vegetarian, you might think that K eats a lot of meat, but that's not true either.  She will only eat certain cuts of meat.  She will NOT eat anything from a chicken or turkey except the breast, and she won't eat any meat that's still on the bone (it reminds her that it's a dead animal).  If she eats beef, it must be extra well-done; if there is any trace of pink in her steak, she will not eat it.  It must be gray, through and through, and it's even better if the steak is actually black and crunchy on the outside.  She always buys the leanest ground beef and is very careful to get rid of as much grease as possible before she consumes it.  She dries her food off with paper towels.  She will not eat veal or rabbit or venison or duck, because those animals are too cute.  She refused to eat any pork until just a few years ago, because she owned a pet pig and thinks they're far too intelligent an animal to eat.  Bacon is the exception, but she must have it extra crispy, preferably burnt.  She positively will not eat anything that still resembles a dead animal, such as ribs. K would secretly love to be a vegetarian, because the truth is that it grosses her out to eat meat, but since she eats no produce, she'd probably starve to death.

Other foods?  K does love pasta, but only certain shapes and certain sizes, and the sauce should be white. (The little girl in us still likes SpaghettiO's however.)  Seafood is tricky...it can't still be "in animal form", so crab legs are off limits, but K loves shrimp if it's been peeled and cleaned thoroughly.  We, the K's, disagree on fish; some of us like it and some of us don't.  Pizza is a favorite, but only plain cheese.  What K really loves are breads and cheeses.  When she spent a few weeks in Paris, she dined only on cheese, a crusty baguette, and wine every day, and that was fine with us. 

K's bizarre eating habits are famous around here.  If she goes to a restaurant, she orders like Meg Ryan in that movie "When Harry Met Sally", meaning everything has to be special-ordered.  No butter, hold the lettuce, sauce on the side, substitute baked potato for fries.  She never orders anything as-is from a menu.  Another peculiar habit is her taking packets of Taco Bell hot sauce in her purse whenever they go out for Mexican (the waiters get a laugh out of finding those empty packets on her table).  She doesn't eat at McDonald's anymore, but when she did, they hated her there, for she'd come in and order a Big Mac without the produce, and they'd have to make her one fresh.   The sub shops love her-just throw the meat and cheese on the bread and you're done.  K does not use condiments, but there are exceptions to this rule, such as mustard on a hot dog (which should be turkey, not pork or beef).  No ketchup, no mayo, no guacamole, no salsa.  Hot sauce should be as hot as possible, but K hates the flavor of Tobasco sauce.

So.  I guess I've proven my point, that K is an eccentric eater.  I haven't even gotten to the part about her eating disorder yet-  I only let her eat one meal a day, and if I get my way, it's even less than that.  We don't eat breakfast or lunch.  We try to consume as close to 500 calories a day as possible, and that's just so we don't faint.  K eats around 6:00 at night, and after she eats, she usually goes into the bathroom and throws up.  No big deal, it's been going on for so many years that it pretty much comes naturally to her.  She can practically throw up on command.  I'm forever buying fat-free, sugar-free, and diet foods, and I'm obsessed with K's caloric intake.  Because of our doctor's orders, we're not allowed to have a scale in our bathroom; apparently I used to weigh in too often and punish myself for any weight gain.  I can't even put into words how horrified I am that K's current medications have caused substantial weight gain.  However, according to our medical doctor, our body is currently in "starvation mode" and so my metabolism has nearly shut down.

I remember the specific day that I realized (or at least, thought to myself, as it wasn't true) that I was fat:  I was in 3rd grade.  It  was spring, and I was wearing shorts.  I noticed how my thighs, when pressed flat onto the desk chair, looked really wide.  I was appalled, and decided right then and there that I HAD to lose some weight; I went home from school, walked to the store, and bought a Tab (it was the only diet soda available at that time).  K hated the taste, but we forced her to drink them from then on and she eventually grew used to the bitter flavor of the saccharin-sweetened drink.  We've been drinking diet drinks ever since, and K now lives on Diet Coke.  Allow me to wrap this up.  We have a bizarre love/hate relationship with food, we are beyond finicky, and K was diagnosed with an eating disorder but refuses to believe it's true because she's not currently skinny.  In Part II, I'll tell you how our OCD affects the way we eat (Would you believe K spends over 10 minutes eating a Snickers candy bar one layer at a time?).

Pills Are Like Candy

A large part of K's life revolves around the use of different medications.  She takes all sorts of pills, and has been taking psychotropic medication(s) on and off since she was 16 years old.  Over the years, the medications have changed-every time K saw a different doctor, that doctor would prescribe new medication(s) for her (often) new diagnosis.  It started out simply enough-K's parents were told that K is Manic-Depressive and the psychiatrist put her on Lithium.  I can't recall how long K actually took the Lithium, but at some point in time, she saw a different doctor, (because her parents disagreed when the first doctor said that they had somehow contributed to K's illness) and this new doctor decided that the Lithium was not working for K (she was still "out of control", in other words) and so he took her off that pill and put her on two or three new pills.  I can't recall now what those medications were-how can I, when I can't remember what pills we took this morning?  Now I'm not going to sit here and recount every trip to every doctor and every diagnosis, for that would A) take too long and B) be impossible without K's medical records and the memory of an elephant.  Let's just say that for the most part, with each new doctor came new pills and a new label.  The doctors love to stick labels on people. This infuriates K, who doesn't want a label, just a life.

                                        
Some of the labels which K has worn over the years, in no particular order, (in addition to Manic-Depressive/ Bipolar II Disorder), are Major Depressive Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Bulimia,  Schizophrenia, Borderline Personality Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Panic Disorder, and a  few others which I can't seem to recall.  I'm shocked that I was able to remember as many as I did, but I suppose that after hearing and reading these terms repeatedly throughout the years, one becomes accustomed to them and they are ingrained in her mind, and they become a part of that person's subconscious and therefore are "remembered".   K sees her memory as an entity of its own, a location which different K's can visit at different times, but which is never completely accessible to any of the K's.  Certain K's have more freedom to roam in this memory locale than others, and some of the K's can barely remember anything at all.

If we look at a list of psychotropic medications, I am able to recognize many of them as pills we have taken at various points in time, and in various combinations, throughout our physical life.  Sometimes the pills don't work,  and we must suffer through all the dreaded side effects for a long enough period of time for the doctor to determine that the pills are not working, and therefore we have to be weaned off these pills and placed on new pills. Sometimes the pills work well, and we will take them for awhile, until the day comes when either K decides that she is stable and feels healthy enough to live without the pills, (this always happens after she's been diligently taking her meds as prescribed for a good length of time)  or until they no longer work.  This is what invariably happens-a phenomenon the doctors have explained to us is not unusual.  Sometimes medications simply stop working.  At these times, K would either have to change medications, which sometimes meant withdrawal symptoms,  plus new side effects, or else she'd just give up on the meds altogether and go "all natural". (This is something which some of us have tried repeatedly to do, but which always ends badly)  I haven't mentioned the side effects before now, (Or have I?) and I wonder if I'll even be able to satisfactorily convey the discomfort one feels when on such psychiatric medications.  For one thing, you're most likely either a zombie, emotionally empty and unresponsive, walking around in a fog, desiring nothing more than to sleep at all times, or else you're wound tighter than a noose around a neck and spend your days bouncing off the walls and rambling like some hyperactive disc jockey.  Some pills cause tremors, which K has had to deal with over the years, and which makes us look nervous or scared, even when we are not.  It's very embarrassing to be paying for your groceries and have your hands be shaking, trembling so uncontrollably that you're unable to count out coins. Other side effects, which may be slightly less aggravating, include (but are not limited to) constant dry mouth, spontaneous sweating, headache, fluid retention, dizziness, upset stomach, constipation, fatigue and sexual side effects. (OK, that last one does bother us a good bit)  Substantial weight gain is far and above the worst side effect of them all; I'm not talking about 10 pounds, I'm talking about 25 pounds or more.  The K who suffers from eating disorders has an especially hard time handling this fact of life; she is usually quite depressed  because of her intense self-hatred and the shame she feels upon looking at her body.  Because of our medications, or lack thereof, our weight has fluctuated over the course of our adult life from 98 pounds to 183 pounds and everywhere in between.  K is 5'5" tall.

I would also like to tell you the other side of the story, and that is what happens when K goes "all natural" and gives up her medication altogether, but I think that story is best told in several separate posts rather than one gigantic one. Forgive me if I've rambled too much.  It's a bad habit.  Much like K's Xanax habit, although we must admit that she'd be a disaster without it.