It
started with starving myself. Eventually, I would both starve myself and abuse
laxatives. It served my purpose at the time. I lost a bunch of weight, but I
was doing irreparable damage to my body. I just
didn’t know it yet.
There
were times when I could have considered myself to be thin. My weight dropped
pretty low a couple of times. The irony was, it didn’t matter because, at any weight, I looked in the mirror with
self-loathing and called myself fat. Upon doing
some research for this article, I stumbled onto this information. I
thought it was very enlightening.
·
Weight gain is clearly caused by medications used to treat
bipolar disorder, some more than others.
·
This weight gain can
be so large as to have its own serious health consequences, so we need to
take it very seriously.
·
Physical activity and
diet can help prevent this weight gain, and sometimes reverse it but simply telling patients to eat right and get
exercise as a means of coping with the weight gain medications can induce is
pretty close to an insult and generally simply
attempts to shift the responsibility for the problem to the patient. It
takes more than this simple advice.
·
Weight gain may be, just may be,
associated with causing mood problems that look like bipolar disorder. If this
was true people could “look” bipolar from
weight gain, and weight gain caused by
medications for bipolar disorder could make mood problems even worse! This obviously
bears some examination.
In
my early, to mid 20’s I was still not
eating on a regular basis, and I added obsessively exercising to the game plan.
I would watch TV, and every time a commercial came on, I jumped up and started
doing sit-ups or using my weights.
The
whole thing was getting out of hand.
I
kept up with the starvation and laxatives off and on throughout my 30’s. I knew
it wasn’t working anymore, but old habits
die hard.
I’ve
never gotten back down to high school weight. I just
can’t seem to focus on a routine of 3 meals a day. Nearly every day, it’s
between 3:00 and 4:00 before I realize that once again, I forgot to eat all
day. I like to wait to have dinner when my husband gets home, and that can be as late as 9:00 PM. I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been in my life, and I am
so ashamed. I hate being in public and around people I know.
I
wish I could go back to age 12 or 13 and start all over. I love my parents, but
they never really did much to educate me or help me set healthy goals for
myself. I’ve gone around and around with different diets or lifestyle changes,
and occasionally I would find one that would work for a brief period. Due to my depression, I expect to see
numbers change on that scale by the hour. I have to keep myself from obsessively
weighing myself, so I keep the scale where
I can’t readily see it. No matter what, when the depression hits, the first
thing that falls by the wayside is my diet and exercise program. At this stage
in life, I’m depressed much more often than I’m not, so these are not great
odds.
You
would think at my age; I could get it
through my head that everything I’ve tried in the past didn’t work. Usually, I’m
so deep into a depression that it doesn’t matter what I tell myself. I’ve already
been set up to fail.
This
is something that I want young people, especially young girls to know. Spending
all of your time finding ways to keep from eating is so bad for you in more ways than one. I’d give anything to go back and
tell young me what happens to us due to our terrible habits. I cry at least once
a week for the me I used to be. Even at a
young age when I weighed about 140 pounds, I thought I was huge. What I wouldn’t
do to be that size again.
I’m
trying to hold myself together and figure out what I can do to make things
better. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not
trying to shift blame here. I’m the one that messed myself up so badly. I even tried to resort back to starvation in my 40’s, and it only made things worse. I need to accept
it doesn’t work and move forward.
So,
the next step is surgery. It’s not something that I’m looking forward to, but I’m
starting to believe it’s the only answer. How much does bipolar disorder relate
to what essentially boils down to body dysmorphic disorder? In my case, the two go hand in hand.
I
would love to look in the mirror and have some semblance of self-esteem. Maybe one day, I’ll get there. For
now, I’ll keep trying to move forward and find some answers.
Source
– PsychEducation.org