damaged metabolism, Wendall Barry

©My weight issues are complicated by having been misdiagnosed as a Type II diabetic when a new endocrinologist, about a year ago, confirmed I am Type I. 12 years misdiagnosed. and for another 12 years before that, I took  meds that damage the body's metabolism, with no warnings that one side affect is serious weight gain. I ballooned up on those drugs, sent myself ceaseless message of self hate. I used to wonder if I was sleep-eating but as the only adult in my home, I was the only person who brought in food and it didn't disappear so it was unlikely I was eating unconsciously. Note:  years later when my teen daughter became anorexic/bulimic, I would certainly notice when large quanities of food disappeared overnight.

At a ten day silent retreat once, on the final day when they let you talk, a bulimic living with her parents had taken the retreat just to get away form food cause she couldn't afford any medical treatment (altho if so sick she could not work, and she was, she was likely eligible to be disabled and get on Medicaid and even Medicare . . . another story). I told her I was pretty sure I knew within just a week or two when my daughter's eating disorder got serious. The young woman panicked, wondering if her parents 'knew'. She pressed and pressed me to tell her how I 'knew'.

I told her I did not see how a parent living with a child could not know. Either you see your child is losing weight rapidly or you notice massive amounts of food disapearing. You don't bring in groceries into your own home, and then see they have disappeared and not notice, IF you are living consciously. I suggested that maybe her parents didn't know but that could only be because they were in denial. The poor gal pressed and pressed me to tell me exactly what I noticed. She was so panicked to think her parents might know.


I don't see how someone could live with their child, even an adult college grad child, and not notice if mass quantities of food disappeared from the kitchen overnight most nights. That young woman was positive her parents didn't know. I said "If they don't know, they don't want to know. It's called denial." Poor thing. She couldn't wait to get home and look for signs indicating whether her parents 'knew'.

Some think anorexia-bulimia are different disorders but many medical experts see it as the same disorder, at different ends of the spectrum. Food addicts likely fit into the spectrum. Many bulimics are fat, many are not.  When my daughter stops starving, she invariably slides into binge eating, unless, I imagine, she is in recovery programs and taking very good care of herself. And I sure hope she is, of course. Once she shared an apartment with a non-lover guy (the guy was gay) and she would often eat every bite of food in the house, even things that are unpalatable, like a jar of relish. Then she ate a box of laxatives.  When my daughter got into better treatment programs -- the quality of eating disorder treatment ranges greatly, as in most things -- she was told that eating laxatives as she did turned some of her organs into messy sponges, causing permanent damage from the harsh chemicals in the laxatives. Knowledgeable docs could exam her for two minutes and know she was binge-purging.  Her roommate would be so angry. He'd get up for breakfast and there was no food in the house. He was abusive to her, apart from issues of her binging on his food. Several years ago, he contacted me on this blog asking how to get in touch with her. He said he was in recovery and wished to make amends to her. I was glad to hear it but I could not tell him how to contact her. Now I know where she works. I think he found her anyway.

Eating disorders are like alcoholism in that one is in recovery forever but never fully recovered.

For many, bulimics can be hard to spot. Some bulimics gain weight, even with lots of purging. But some don't. And some eating disorder experts now consider folks who compulsively overeat but do not purge to also be bulimics, bulimics who don't purge.  Some bulimics appear normal size but they maintain that appearance of normality through purging, which is wicked hard on the body.  Your spleen, liver, pancreas, etc. all become like sieves and spongey if you are putting a whole box of laxatives through your body every day.  Other bulimics make themselves vomit and all the vomiting destroys their teeth:  the stomach acids are wicked hard on tooth enamel.

So do I have an eating disorder?  I don't think so. I believe prescription drugs have destroyed my metabolism, which caused rapid weight gain in my early thirties. Once a human body develops lots  fat cells, our evolutionary biology is designed to hang onto the fat for survival, which is why folks lose and, so often, easily regain.

I very genuinely do not believe I have an eating disorder. Maybe I am in denial. Denial is tricky. I believe I have a damaged metabolism. Three of prescription drugs I took daily for over ten years have had class actions won against them for causing the onset of diabetes and this happens because the drugs affect our metabolism. And recently, I have seen ads on my gmail mailbox informing me that Lipitor is being sued in class action because it is now believed to cause the onset of diabetes in some women. I don't think I fit that criteria because the women who develop diabetes on Lipitor tend to be slender.  I did take three drugs for over ten years that have also been been sued by class action and the petitioners won, proving the drugs damage metabolism and seem to contribute significantly to the onset of diabetes.

Can such damage be healed? And if so, how? Not more drugs, that's for sure. And not the typical highly processed American crap diet.

I don't think about the damage prescription drugs have done to me too much. It's hard to know where who I am, how and what I ate and how drugs I took for over ten years affected my body.  My metabolism is definitely very damaged.

On the bright side, I am down 90 pounds from my all time high. I haven't been at my all time high in many years but my set point seems to still be a pretty high one, a fat one.  I can get down much lower than where I am now but I quickly bounce back to my set point.

So. I am way down but still fat. And I would like to move through the world as a not-fat person.  I've been obese about 30 years. I've always thought I'd lose it. I have lost a lot but I can't seem to get to onederland, which is below 200.

And being fat is, by no means, my only issue.  I am lonely, with poor support in my life.  I am so unhappy. I long for a life partner but I am not really fit to be someone's life partner.  I don't see how a person can be happy and well if they are as isolated as I am. I am so vulnerable these days that I am not really fit to form close bonds with anyone.

I know many people find support at support groups. And the world is full of them. Which ones are aright for me? And when I am as vulnerable as I am just now, going to any event with other people around is overwhelming.  I keep thinking if I just had a couple best friends, like I always used to have.  But I am too shakey to develop new friends.

I read somewhere, once, that someone with borderline personality disorder is a bit like someone with no skin. That makes me think of a burn victim, also someone without skin.  When I am emotionally unwell, I have no skin and I am unfit to be around others but i can't get well in isolation. Chicken. Egg.

I feel like I am the emotional equivalent of a quadriplegic -- not to downplay the serious nature of being a quad. I feel I can't control anything in my life so I hunker down in my home like I'm in a bunker, holding on to just survive. Just surviving is not enough.  I don't feel I am living a life worth living. But who wants to befriend someone in excrutiating emotional pain.

I just remembered an exchange I had about 8 years ago with someone i met at a conference. I wrote to him that I felt excrutiating pain and he wrote back in what I am sure was unintended condescension telling me something like "Tut tut, I am sure excrutiating it an exaggeration."  I think he felt uneasy imaging me in excrutiating pain so he just tried to erase my truth, like he was editing a paper only I had shared my truth. I am often in excrutiating emotional pain. It is very hard to love someone in the kind of pain I get into. But I am lovable. And with understanding and caring and love, I can, do and have formed some rich, loving, lasting friendships. Just not lately. No new hones.  I have peopple who love me but they mostly live far away. The few locals that 'love' me spend little, if any time with me and time with people is what I need.

Around and around I go. What to do?

Have you ever done a major housecleaning project and as you work on the project, everything reaches a point of chaos and it is easy to feel overwhelmed? But you know if you just keep going, doing one thing at a time, order will be restored?  I feel like my emotional and social lives are in a damaged, chaotic state but at any moment, things could improve. And in the meantime, I can eat carefully, exercise and maintain my physical health as best I can.

Maintaining my emotional health seems impossible when I am as isolated as I am but going to groups is just beyond my capacity. So I sit. Which reminds me of a lovely verse by the farmer-poet-essayist Wendall Barry:

willing to die'
you give up your will'
be still
until'
moved by what moves all else'
you move

I am being still, waiting to be moved. It's hard work.