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Finally, finally, FINALLY, I can post again!

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So much to say. So many things that have happened. Here goes…

I traveled with one of my best friends and had the time of my life. It hurt my pockets, but it was so worth it both for me as an individual and as a bonding experience. Also, it was an awesome self-gift with the money I don’t have, since…

I GRADUATED MEDICAL SCHOOL!

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I’m a doctor now. Still can’t believe it. I freeze over when people call me “doctor”, when I see the MD after my name, or when I have to state my job is “physician” (say what?!). You guys have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to change the description of this blog to “Part-time doctor, full-time patient”. Betcha didn’t notice that!

My graduation ceremony went great and my parents were so proud. I was so happy to see them like that, and I was so happy for myself…after all that’s happened I’m finally here. Couldn’t stop smiling that day.

And then I moved to the city that I adore. Yeesh, everything’s happened so fast. So far I haven’t gotten terribly homesick, but it’s bound to come (although I do feel a knot in my stomach whenever I think of my dogs). I love my apartment so far. It’s tiny, old, has its problems, and it’s rough around the edges, but it’s mine (rented, though) and I couldn’t love the location more.

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Bittersweet celebrations

The first weekend was the toughest. I always have trouble those first few days anxiety-wise when I’m in a new place. So much that I’m afraid of going out or even leaving the windows open (I’ve posted about this before, it happens a lot). However, when I’m hungry enough to pass out (because I’m too anxious to even get food), I usually go out because I have no choice. That’s when the anxiety starts going down. I’ve still got a bit of a way to go but I’m not afraid of going out on my own anymore. It’s always this way, a slow process. Eventually it’ll go.

I also began orientation for my program these past few days, and so far no red flags have popped up and I’m glad I chose the heart-mindblown program. The place feels like a good fit. We’ll see how it goes.

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She probably knows more about what’s to come than me

Also, I met my co-interns! I like them a lot so far. I think we’ll make great colleagues and if friendships arise then even better.

Meanwhile, my love life…always have to post about that, right? I’m actually in a good place right now. (Sorry for the TMI that’s coming…) I had a fuckbuddy for a while there back home. I know, me? A fuckbuddy? I never saw that coming. But it was actually a positive experience because there was only desire on both parts and it was quite clear that’s all we wanted and there was no chemistry other than sexual. Why was that good, you may ask? Because it helped me understand what it feels like to “like” someone, versus just feeling lust. Now I know the difference.

Which brings me to….The Russian. He’s back. I was expecting it to happen since we were texting for about a month and a half and I was moving to the city that I adore. What I wasn’t expecting was for it to happen so fast. And by “it” I’m not saying we’re dating. We’ve seen each other a handful of times so far and agreed we just want to see how things flow. Problem is, so far they’ve flowed all too well (…that’s not really a problem, though).

I won’t go into details here, but we’ve had one or two frank discussions where he’s been surprisingly vulnerable with me and I chose to believe him. He’s single now. However, I’m still testing the waters. He is too. No commitments for now, just proceeding cautiously. I’m well informed of the risk I’m taking. If things backfire, then I’ll learn my lesson and hopefully it won’t be disastrous.

But we’re both surprised about how smoothly things have gone and how there seems to be a certain chemistry that wasn’t there the first time around due to circumstances beyond ourselves (it was all uncertain, I was living back home, etc). I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. Then again, many things in life just “are”. I’ll go with that.

He’s actually helped me so far a lot with this transition. Having him invite me out the first week helped with my anxiety because it forced me to go out and about. And I told him about it, so he’s not completely clueless. Also I’ve encountered some unexpected issues that might delay my beginning residency as scheduled, and he helped me see another side to the problem and not take it personally (which is something I have trouble with). It calmed me down.

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He’s crazy. I’m crazy. It’s a perfect match!

So, this issue with beginning residency has to do with my obtaining a license to practice in the state. My program coordinator suspects it might have to do with some letters that got slightly delayed, but I’m paranoid and afraid it might be related to my taking a leave of absence in med school due to depression. I already provided a letter from my school, my own explanation, and a letter from G explaining that I’m good to go and doing wonderful…what more do they want from me?!

But that’s all I’m going to say about that. No need to spoil all the goodness with something that is far beyond my control. I figured: I matched, so I’m legally obligated to sign my contract (already did), I’m already here, and as far as situations go things could be much worse. So, hopefully, it’s all gonna fall into place. Better late than never.

And so, I’ve been doing a lot of adulting here. I’m at that point where “going out” means going to the bank to run errands.

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Adulting like a pro

And now the obligatory question: since I’m beginning a new stage, what’s happening to the blog?

Short answer: it stays.

Long answer: I’m beginning residency, which really isn’t a game changer. I’m still weirdo me, except I’ve got the title MD now after my name. Depression-wise I’m in a good place right now…and hopefully it’ll stay that way, if not forever, for a very loooooong ass time. Food-wise I’m kind of in a gray zone. Anxiety-wise, there’s so many things to obsess about irrationally right now. So, you can guess what my posts will focus more from now on when it comes to mental illness.

But I’m still here. Except this is all so new to me.

Grab the popcorn.

 

PS: I’m sorry if my comment replies are short and sweet. They piled up after so much time. Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them just the same!

 

I’m fucking fat and disgusting. That’s what I am. I’m a disgrace. I can’t stop eating. Food every-fucking-where. I’ve purged five times during my vacations so far. I feel disgustingly, sickeningly, and horribly full right now.

Meanwhile, my friend barely eats, gets full with only a few bites, her cheeks are sunken, and you can see her bones. I’m a fat failure, piece of shit trash, who can’t snag a decent man in her life and never will. My face is looking absolutely horrible again and I’m fat. So fat I can feel it on me and in me, in my throat, in my stomach, in my body and everywhere.

My stomach isn’t flat anymore. I usually lose weight when away from home but this time around it’s been the exact opposite and I can feel it. I have this incredible urge to purge right now but I can’t because I can’t get a third ear infection, much less away from home.

What’s worse? I can’t restrict because my friend will start suspecting weird shit going on with me. Or maybe I could? She probably wouldn’t say much. I’ll give it a try. I just know I can’t continue eating.

I recently discovered that if I put in enough effort into keeping my eyes open while purging I don’t get petechiae on them. It’s disgusting though. Who likes to look at vomit? It’s like the eating disorder is telling me: Haha, you’re disgusting and fat, and the trade-off for not getting fatter is having to look at your own fucking vomit…a tangible demonstration of what a cesspool you are.

I’m a cesspool, yes.

Shitty shitty. Eh. That’s how I feel.

Nothing much has happened. I’m more relaxed, not as stressed as last week.

But I feel butt-fucking-ugly.

It doesn’t have to do with food. I haven’t purged or restricted for at least a week now and either way, I don’t feel like focusing on food right now. No. It all has to do with my fucking face. I have acne. Terrible acne, like a teenager. My acne back in high school wasn’t as bad as what I have right now.

It’s so embarrassing I don’t want to leave the house and I just want to sit and cry. I’m frustrated because it just sprouted out of the blue. It began around the time of the Match, so I thought it must be the stress, even though I’ve never been prone to stress acne. But it’s just continued wreaking havoc in my face since then. And considering I’m more relaxed now I would expect some relief…but no.

God I feel like a pile of shit ugly.

I have some other stuff in my head right now but I can’t seem to bring myself to post about it. Men-related crap and residency-related crap and life-related crap. Just thoughts….about crap. But I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, I can’t put my thoughts into words. I feel like I’m censoring myself.

That’s never good.

And because I have all that crap in my head I do what I do best: not deal with it and focus on the mundane, in this case, the acne.

I guess I’d rather berate myself over being ugly than think about my life or the men who aren’t interested in me. Mostly the Russian. Fuck, yes, I’m still thinking about that douche and it’s embarrassing to admit.

Middle school. Kids bullying me over apparently being ugly and crappy. That’s all I can focus on right now.

Gosh, all that residency paperwork got me going crazy. Didn’t mean to take a week off of posting there. Finally I have a decent break to write.

Well, I’m back home. That in and of itself helped a bunch in feeling better. It hurt to be in the same city as the most recent dude and not hear a word from him (I’ll call him Platonic dude from now on). So near yet so far, you know? But at home that’s the least of my worries since he’s far away and I can’t control that.

And so, I’ve kept myself busy by filling out paper after paper having to do with residency. I’ve also been busy apartment hunting from afar, although I wouldn’t exactly call it hunting since I’m so ridiculously easy to please and my only must-have requirements are appliances and good location. I already submitted my papers for a (really) teeny tiny apartment in exactly the place I want to live. I’ll be paying a shitload, but the city that I adore ain’t cheap and the apartment is EXACTLY where I want to live. Also, since my moods are very easily influenced by my environment that’s something I’m not willing to compromise in. All that’s left is receiving that “yay” or “nay” from the landlord. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, when it comes to food the past two weeks have been a crazy rollercoaster. I recently had an ear infection after a few days of back-to-back purging. I didn’t think much of it when it happened and I stopped purging for some days. But this past week I started purging again and now my other ear is infected. Odd, right?

However, I haven’t found any information on external ear infections and purging, only middle ear infections and vomiting (in toddlers). Either way, I don’t think it’s a coincidence. If there’s something eating disordered behaviors have taught me so far it’s that you always think what you’re doing to yourself isn’t “severe enough”. But oh how wrong we are…even the tiniest bit of purging or restricting wreaks havoc on our bodies. During the worst of my restricting in 2014 I had a kidney stone, then constipation and gastroparesis. Now that I’ve added purging to my behaviors both of my ears get infected out of the blue. Why else would an otherwise healthy twenty something female like myself have that happen to her?

Thankfully, I haven’t purged in 5 days. As soon as I started feeling the ear pain I’ve been more cautious of not reaching that point of no return where I feel full and want to purge. I’m not restricting, except maybe mildly. I’ve also been trying to be kind to myself and not body check as much. Also been keeping myself distracted. Trying to feel the love. Big things are a-coming in my life now.

I hope I’ll keep it up for as long as I can. I won’t count the days, though, that just makes me feel pressured.

Another thing that’s been helping is that I’ve kept my mind off men this week. I have to focus on me now and I know it. Plus, I have no prospects to look forward to here and I’m not remotely interested.

I spoke to Platonic dude the other day. I randomly texted him just to break the ice and make sure we’re on good terms, which we are. He confessed he was afraid of texting me in the aftermath and wanted to give me my space. I thanked him for being upfront about his feelings (or non-feelings) toward me. Also told him he’ll be my forever crush but I understand if he doesn’t feel we’re a match. It happens. He ended the conversation with “talk later”. But no, we haven’t. And we won’t. And I’m ok with that. It’s what I need.

I’m sure everyone who’s dated can relate to this, but it’s funny how after something doesn’t work out between you and someone you start noticing the itty bitty things that didn’t make you a good match. Platonic dude and I might seem like an incredibly amazing match on the surface, but it’s only after removing my head from the sand (or from somewhere else…) that I’ve accepted he’s right. It’s…details. Just details. Itty bitty details that make you go “crap, this won’t work”.

And the funny part? My gut felt this on the first date. I guess I let my brain get too much into it with time. That friggin’ gut feeling is always right.

I hope the gut is also right about the heart-mindblown program.

Yes. Yes it is. Let’s stay positive. It’s all a matter of how you see things.

When you’re hungry but you feel emotionally miserable so you decide to restrict/starve because you don’t want to keep feeding the monster (yourself).

That’s my current state.

It’s a mix of feeling great because I’m finally fucking restricting without my parents breathing down my neck, but at the same time feeling like shit because hunger sucks. But honestly, I prefer to starve myself than not doing it and then feeling sad AND fat.

It feels wonderful to starve while miserable. You know why? Because at least I’m getting skinny while miserable. (Yes, I’m fully aware of how horrible that sounds.) I don’t think my piece of shit body and the shit person that I am deserve the goodness of NOT feeling hunger.

To me, feeling hungry means emptiness. But a good emptiness. Empty of life, of soul, of anything that causes pain….I can focus solely on my hunger and how far I can take it, while ignoring the problems and fears in my life (solitude, changes, heartbreak, etc).

I’m always starving for something. Food, companionship, love….there’s always something. And right now I feel I deserve none of it.

Because this guy “dumped” me I now feel obviously very sad, but in addition I feel absolutely despicable, laughable, pathetic, and beyond disgusting. As a result, I don’t want anyone to pick and prod at me, not even myself. I want the disgust that is me to cease existing. And what better way to cease existing than becoming smaller as the seconds pass by and having your body slowly involuting while feeding off itself?

Somewhere in that argument there’s a big, gaping hole. I know it. But I can’t pinpoint it right now and I don’t really care either. I just want to be as cruel to myself as possible…because this guy “dumped” me, because I can’t hold down a romantic interest, because I’m fugly as shit…

I’m trying to explain something that doesn’t make any sense. Bummer. I’ll get back to it later.

In the meantime, I’ll just go to sleep….starving.

Yes, still in disbelief. The news of my moving away soon to begin a new life will apparently sink in slowly.

I was thinking yesterday…after so much effort I’m finally here. I’m practically done. I matched. All I have left is graduation and continuing the journey. After 4 years of undergrad, 5 years of medical school, 1 mental breakdown, at least 3 serious episodes of depression, 1 hospitalization, the explosion of eating disordered behaviors, realizing I was abused, a leave of absence, 2 psychologists, 2 psychiatrists, countless exams, a diagnosis of depression and borderline personality disorder, 3 USMLE exams, 4 years of therapy and medication, 9 interviews, considering quitting a million times, thousands spent on traveling expenses and a visiting rotation…after all that, I’m finally here.

And to think, I was so worried I wasn’t going to get interviews or even match because I took a leave of absence.

I guess there’s an upside to thinking about all the effort I’ve put in and all I’ve been through. And yet, part of me gets scared when thinking about all that. I guess it’s good to think about the past, but only to a certain point.

Last night I got a bit scared thinking about whether or not I made the right decision. Having my friend match into the top program obviously got to me a bit because it made me think It could have been me. I could have had (insert Ivy league name) and all it has to offer,¬† plus the name on my diploma. It was inevitable. I mean, I had the choice of ranking the top program #1, but I chose the heart-mindblown program instead. Hopefully it will finally feel right once I start working. I guess I’ll just have to continue trusting my gut in the coming weeks. I mean, there’s no turning back now.

Either way, I’m incredibly excited. Yesterday I was google-searching what my white coat will look like at the heart-mindblown program and looking at the program website again. I was also taking a look at studio apartments for rent in the neighborhood I want to live in. I can’t believe I’m going to live the dream. And I certainly hope it doesn’t turn out to be a nightmare.

Meanwhile, my parents have been great about it all so far. They were incredibly happy and excited for me when I got the news and they’ve been supportive. Sad, but supportive. I saw a few tears well up here and there, but they celebrated with me and have made it clear that they are very happy for me. I just hope it lasts after the initial excitement wears off. That’s exactly what I need right now: their love and support.

Gosh, I’m in disbelief. I really hope other people get to read this and see that it is possible after all. Like I’ve always said, I have my ups and downs, but it’s still very possible to live the dream. It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible. “Borderline”, “depression”, “anorexia”, “anxiety”, and anybody else I’m missing….they’re labels that serve a purpose, but they don’t define you or your future. Soon I’ll be a 100% doctor, but also a full-time patient. Yes, it’s possible.

My mind is all over the place right now. I’m thinking about so many things and still stunned at the same time. I can’t seem to organize anything, not even my posts.

Sorry! I’ll hopefully get back to my (usually) coherent self soon.

 

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