Update

Notice: There are some details that you might say "eww," to. Sorry 'bout that. Honesty sometimes comes with a price tag. :)

My big appointment was yesterday. I was so nervous going in there. I had a rough start to my day. I was feeling naseous, anxious, and a little dizzy too. Bad combination when you are driving in downtown Copenhagen in the rain. I was really worried about parking, but it was too far to walk if I were to take the train. Fortunately, the hospital is on a really quiet street and I was easily able to park just outside of the building. It was really pretty. When I went into the reception area, I told them I was "here" and was delivered to the waiting room. They were very welcoming.

As I sat in the waiting room wiggling and shaking out of my skin, I began to get a little panicked because I had spoken Danish with the first two people I had met. Would I be able to do that the whole time? Would I have to? It was a silly thing to worry about because I knew that we had told them that I was English speaking. But, this crazy disease makes me worry unnecessarily about everything. It was actually telling me to get up and RUN! Crazy. But, I guess, even an eating disorder has a fight or flight response.

I met with a psychiatrist and a psychologist at the same time. They asked me about a million questions and I had a medical examination. My blood pressure was really low, which is normal for me especially when I'm nervous. I have a problem in my salivary glands from all that I have put them through. Somehow, my teeth are doing okay. I know it's because I read as much as I could about how to protect them. I have also been blessed with really strong teeth. No cavaties! They told me I was accepted and that I was granted 25 hours. This is at no cost. Beautiful. I am starting meds today as they believe that anxiety has been the major factor my whole life. They think my eating or not eating and even purging was my way of numbing out the anxiety. I agree. I just didn't think about how that could have even affected me back in high school.

I will be working with a team of people. The two I saw yesterday, a nutritionist, an eating disorder doctor, and my family practioner. They will all know what is going on at the same time. Wow. No more secrets. Good. Next week I go in and help to decide how to divide up my hours. How many hours with the nutritionist, with the psychologist, pyschiatrist, and even how many hours I want them to give to my family and their education. Wow.

At the end of the appointment they weighed me and measured my height. I didn't look, I can't! It was hard enough to let someone else look. In fact, it was quite nerve-wracking and I cried. Sound silly?

So now, I start the meds today and wait for next week. Keep doing what works, they said. They thought it was awesome that I have had so many good days in May and that I am so motivated. My fears of that being a reason for them to dismiss me are gone now. They told me they can see how much I need it. They see this every day and I have the face of bulimia. Do you know how much that hurts to hear? How much it breaks my heart that I have allowed this thing to take me over? I knew that my face had put on weight and I even read about the "bulimia chipmunk cheeks," but to hear a doctor tell you that they can tell by looking at you. That's really rough.

I am going to be dealing with a lot of pain in the next 6 to 8 weeks. I already have been. My face will start to go down ( it already has a little) and by 6 months I will have my face back. My stomach is a mess. It hurts so much. I have to teach it to do the right things. Every single cell in my body has been dehydrated. So now I am swelling up like a freakin' balloon! Also at night, my belly is the size of 6 months pregnant. I'm not kidding people. If you want to read about it, google "bulimia bloat." It is extremely painful. I am really glad to hear that it's normal though. I will have more withdrawl symptoms. I will shake, I will have more anxiety attacks, I will cry.

Tough things that I have to get over:
* I will gain more weight. It will come off, but I can't make it go faster.
* I will look like hell. A lot. I will look like this at my cousin's wedding and I will look like this at my high school reunion. I will also look like this on my cruise this summer.
* I will hurt. Throwing up will not make that better.
* Some people will tell me that I have gained weight. Even people in my family, who know they shouldn't say anything, will say it. They maybe don't mean it in a mean way, but they will say it. People do that. I will hate it and want to quit, but what good would that do? It's not like bulimia has helped me lose weight anyway!
* "It doesn't matter." "I don't matter." These two statements are huge for me. They resound in my head and are the number one cause of slips. It does matter. Everytime I chose to eat and nourish my body, it matters. I do matter. I have people who love me even if my bulimia glasses won't let me see that. Even if my anorexia tells me that they only thought I was pretty when I was skinny. Even if they both tell me that everyone is laughing and satisfied now that I'm heavier. It matters. It matters for my kids. It matters for my husband.

So, if you are reading this, I would like to ask you for support through these tough things. Help me think of positive things, listen to me when I whine, but most of all encourage me to continue... because, IT MATTERS.

Thanks for reading. I love you all.