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#91
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - January 16, 2026, 01:20:40 AMMy stitch-uation continues. The part of me that pulled the stitches out wanted to erase, undo what happened. I stopped pulling, but it turns out my body doesn't like the stitches and is actively spitting them out. I feel like Frankenstein, every day another one pokes through. Should I just cut them all? But under the skin they're still there....I cut the end of one and by the next day, it's sticking out again, like I'm growing wiry thread. This is ridiculous.
I called the doctor every other day for a week asking for a callback. None came. Part of me thought no answer was an answer, but part of me was not happy with the stitch-uation. Finally I called and asked for an appointment. That worked. Sometimes it's a matter of finding the right words. Not, "I'm concerned about something," or "I have a question," but "I'm calling to make an urgent appointment." Ok.
Today I went in. Apparently the mass was near the chest wall so I am a many-layered cake at the moment with layers of stitching. The doctor said the top layers were healed enough, and given my body is rejecting the stitches, she said we should pull out the ones that were coming out on their own. Cue surprise. She looked at me over her glasses and mask and clarified, "_I_ will pull them out, you don't touch!" "Is this going to hurt?" "Yes." But the troublesome ones are out and hopefully no more will come through. Being more stitch-less, I have to be a bit more careful for a few more weeks so that my layers don't separate.
I am trying to be careful. Mindful. Mindfully cautious. Appropriately concerned. I also have a torn ligament in my knee and we don't want it to totally tear or my kneecap will float up to my thigh, so I'm told by the PT. Ok. So I go down the stairs sideways, not using the right knee, not carrying laundry with the right arm. I go up the stairs using only the left leg, not carrying groceries. Trying to be mindful, dont' carry, don't carry. Be mindful, don't pick up that water jug. Be mindful, walk past the trash bag. Mindful, mindful. Habit still takes over, and I want to go back, go back to "normal." But I'm staying here, not going back. There's nothing back there. Go forward. Mindfully.
Franklin D Roosevelt the Rabbit had surgery this week himself. From time to time he must get his teeth filed down. Otherwise they grow into the flesh of his mouth and he can't eat. He's a prey animal, so he hides his pain. To show pain or weakness would attract predators. It took me way too long to realize when I got him why he was drooling, hunched, and underweight despite piles of green hay. He didn't want me to see his suffering for fear I might turn him into stew. "Why didn't you tell me?!" I chastise him. He just blinks at me. Survival of the fittest, dummy.
I still have to monitor him regularly to see the signs that his teeth have overgrown again. I have to be mindful that he's got a stitch-uation going on that's not his fault, he was born with a smashed-in skull, overbred for generations by cruel and stupid people, he was born to a stray mother and born into a February blizzard and half-frozen, thawed in a farmer's pocket, then had to fight for his life in a hutch too small for so many. He had a rough start. I have to be mindful. He'll never be the bunny he could have been. "You're a wonderful bunny," I tell him. He's been drowsy all day, and eating only bunny oatmeal, a mash of water and hay bits. He wants to chow down on fresh hay, but he can't. "You're in recovery!" I tell him. "Oatmeal only for you today!"
The root of recovery is Capere, to take. In recovery, we don't receive something back. There's no way to regain what was lost. The book of my life was scribbled in before I got to even pick up a pencil. Despite my attempts to undo, erase, there is no eraser for life. I want to go back, back to normal, back to Before, but I can't, there is no there there. I can only be in recovery.
Is this going to hurt? yes. I have to take it. Tolerate it. I can pull out the stitches, but that doesn't mean I'm healed. Healing takes the time it takes. Frank stares mournfully at his pile of green hay, and flops on his side in despair. "We have to be satisfied with our bunny oatmeal for now," I tell him. "You're still healing."
I want to recover, but I can't receive anything back. There's nothing back there. Whatever I get back of myself I have to take, wrestle, struggle for, now, in the present. Take delivery of it. Take account. Take it into account. I have to take into account that I'm in recovery. I have to take into account that I can't lift, carry, or move without being mindful that I'm in a stitch-uation not of my making. Not of my own making, but one I alone can carry, mindfully, lightly, with as much grace and compassion as I can, up the stairs keeping the right leg straight, compensating at the hip, leaning only on the LEFT arm, not the right... a rather awkward janky journey for sure. Frank hops over to look at me, moves his head up and down to get two images to put together and see me in three dimensions. Why am I hopping in such a janky manner? Don't I know I might attract a wolf if I'm so obviously compromised, a literal wounded animal? "There's no wolf here and now, Frank." I say. "Go eat your oatmeal."
I called the doctor every other day for a week asking for a callback. None came. Part of me thought no answer was an answer, but part of me was not happy with the stitch-uation. Finally I called and asked for an appointment. That worked. Sometimes it's a matter of finding the right words. Not, "I'm concerned about something," or "I have a question," but "I'm calling to make an urgent appointment." Ok.
Today I went in. Apparently the mass was near the chest wall so I am a many-layered cake at the moment with layers of stitching. The doctor said the top layers were healed enough, and given my body is rejecting the stitches, she said we should pull out the ones that were coming out on their own. Cue surprise. She looked at me over her glasses and mask and clarified, "_I_ will pull them out, you don't touch!" "Is this going to hurt?" "Yes." But the troublesome ones are out and hopefully no more will come through. Being more stitch-less, I have to be a bit more careful for a few more weeks so that my layers don't separate.
I am trying to be careful. Mindful. Mindfully cautious. Appropriately concerned. I also have a torn ligament in my knee and we don't want it to totally tear or my kneecap will float up to my thigh, so I'm told by the PT. Ok. So I go down the stairs sideways, not using the right knee, not carrying laundry with the right arm. I go up the stairs using only the left leg, not carrying groceries. Trying to be mindful, dont' carry, don't carry. Be mindful, don't pick up that water jug. Be mindful, walk past the trash bag. Mindful, mindful. Habit still takes over, and I want to go back, go back to "normal." But I'm staying here, not going back. There's nothing back there. Go forward. Mindfully.
Franklin D Roosevelt the Rabbit had surgery this week himself. From time to time he must get his teeth filed down. Otherwise they grow into the flesh of his mouth and he can't eat. He's a prey animal, so he hides his pain. To show pain or weakness would attract predators. It took me way too long to realize when I got him why he was drooling, hunched, and underweight despite piles of green hay. He didn't want me to see his suffering for fear I might turn him into stew. "Why didn't you tell me?!" I chastise him. He just blinks at me. Survival of the fittest, dummy.
I still have to monitor him regularly to see the signs that his teeth have overgrown again. I have to be mindful that he's got a stitch-uation going on that's not his fault, he was born with a smashed-in skull, overbred for generations by cruel and stupid people, he was born to a stray mother and born into a February blizzard and half-frozen, thawed in a farmer's pocket, then had to fight for his life in a hutch too small for so many. He had a rough start. I have to be mindful. He'll never be the bunny he could have been. "You're a wonderful bunny," I tell him. He's been drowsy all day, and eating only bunny oatmeal, a mash of water and hay bits. He wants to chow down on fresh hay, but he can't. "You're in recovery!" I tell him. "Oatmeal only for you today!"
The root of recovery is Capere, to take. In recovery, we don't receive something back. There's no way to regain what was lost. The book of my life was scribbled in before I got to even pick up a pencil. Despite my attempts to undo, erase, there is no eraser for life. I want to go back, back to normal, back to Before, but I can't, there is no there there. I can only be in recovery.
Is this going to hurt? yes. I have to take it. Tolerate it. I can pull out the stitches, but that doesn't mean I'm healed. Healing takes the time it takes. Frank stares mournfully at his pile of green hay, and flops on his side in despair. "We have to be satisfied with our bunny oatmeal for now," I tell him. "You're still healing."
I want to recover, but I can't receive anything back. There's nothing back there. Whatever I get back of myself I have to take, wrestle, struggle for, now, in the present. Take delivery of it. Take account. Take it into account. I have to take into account that I'm in recovery. I have to take into account that I can't lift, carry, or move without being mindful that I'm in a stitch-uation not of my making. Not of my own making, but one I alone can carry, mindfully, lightly, with as much grace and compassion as I can, up the stairs keeping the right leg straight, compensating at the hip, leaning only on the LEFT arm, not the right... a rather awkward janky journey for sure. Frank hops over to look at me, moves his head up and down to get two images to put together and see me in three dimensions. Why am I hopping in such a janky manner? Don't I know I might attract a wolf if I'm so obviously compromised, a literal wounded animal? "There's no wolf here and now, Frank." I say. "Go eat your oatmeal."
#92
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - January 16, 2026, 12:49:21 AMSenseOrgan, your comment made me smile. Yeah, Frank just is 
And yes, I need to hold in compassion the little stitch-puller. One who erases and undoes what was done. Good plan, kid. Just not so useful right now.
Thank you.
And yes, I need to hold in compassion the little stitch-puller. One who erases and undoes what was done. Good plan, kid. Just not so useful right now. Thank you.
#93
Recovery Journals / Re: Dalloway´s Recovery Journa...
Last post by HannahOne - January 16, 2026, 12:47:34 AMDalloway, I am sorry to hear the struggle you are in. It is a long winding road and we didn't choose it. What choices remain to us? I am with you in the struggle.
While so much doesn't make sense, your feelings do. Hopelessness makes sense. It can be part of letting go of what could have been. The numbness makes sense, it comes and goes as protection.
I see you in your questions, not hiding from the raw truth. Taking account of what happened in your life. Taking delivery of it. With courage and strength.
While so much doesn't make sense, your feelings do. Hopelessness makes sense. It can be part of letting go of what could have been. The numbness makes sense, it comes and goes as protection.
I see you in your questions, not hiding from the raw truth. Taking account of what happened in your life. Taking delivery of it. With courage and strength.
#94
Other / Re: Psychosis as a result of t...
Last post by Chart - January 15, 2026, 09:13:10 PMGreat news Teddy bear! Well done with the work and searching and results!
#95
Frustrated? Set Backs? / Re: stuck in a loop
Last post by Chart - January 15, 2026, 09:07:55 PMAsdis, Dollyvee put it really well, "I'm sorry, all that is really tough." I second that. Sounds like you are working double shifts with the symptoms and research, all on low energy. I understand the low energy. I'm also struggling with foods, but not allergies, just sugar and carbs. But even that is hard to avoid, so I empathize immensely with your allergy limitations.
It takes a long time to see effects on a deep level, but working with the nervous system and parasympathetic stimulation might be an avenue to explore. I have great faith in Indian and Ayurvedic approaches.
Sending care and support
It takes a long time to see effects on a deep level, but working with the nervous system and parasympathetic stimulation might be an avenue to explore. I have great faith in Indian and Ayurvedic approaches.
Sending care and support
#96
Frustrated? Set Backs? / Re: stuck in a loop
Last post by asdis - January 15, 2026, 08:11:39 PMQuote from: dollyvee on January 12, 2026, 09:58:19 AMthe benefits of not feeling sick that I could distinctly feel, outweighed the foods that I could no longer eat.
If it was just one allergy/intolerance we would feel the same. We did good for a bit at avoiding our allergies and felt a little better, we could notice the difference. It essentially means eating the same five-ten things on repeat indefinitely for us, and that is not sustainable while trying to recover from the ED mindset that food isn't safe and the mindset that food isn't "for" us. Cutting out our allergens blew up our progress in that area once we started actually feeling hungry.
Some of our allergies (like soy) are in absolutely everything and it's not always disclosed, especially in things like chicken/turkey meat. For example, as long as we're careful we can eat chicken, but sometimes we end up with chicken that was soy-fed and then had some form of soy used in it's packaging. The only way around that is a bunch of research and we've been working on it, it's just not a super quick or easy process. Because of PFAS we can't eat or touch raw veggies or fruits. We can't even really eat cooked fruits. We've also stumbled on new allergies while looking for replacement foods and it's cut out even more. It's getting hard to eat because one product being out of stock means we just have less food until it's back. Usually it's a base ingredient or something important to our ability to feed ourself while alone. Our other conditions limit how much we can do in general, our energy is limited and we always have to "choose" what's most important to take care of.
We're just at a point where we need someone to help us tackle this from all the same angles that we have to, and finding someone both willing and capable of that isn't easy. At the very least, we need to find doctors/providers that are willing to work together with each other to help us. We're working on it. It's just taking longer than we can really handle on our own.
#97
Other / Re: Psychosis as a result of t...
Last post by Armee - January 15, 2026, 07:51:10 PMI'm so glad it is going well and you found someone skilled in tapering.
#98
Other / Re: Psychosis as a result of t...
Last post by Teddy bear - January 15, 2026, 07:14:58 PMHey everyone,
An update on my situation: luckily, I was able to find a therapist in my area who was educated and trained abroad (as I mentioned previously, psychiatrists here usually only know how to prescribe, not deprescribe). She follows the hyperbolic tapering protocol, which is the safest method for psychotropic drugs.
So, hopefully, I'll be able to get off that neuroleptic.
She also has experience with cPTSD and dissociation.
It all sounds very promising. I'm looking forward to my appointment (I'm currently on a waiting list)
An update on my situation: luckily, I was able to find a therapist in my area who was educated and trained abroad (as I mentioned previously, psychiatrists here usually only know how to prescribe, not deprescribe). She follows the hyperbolic tapering protocol, which is the safest method for psychotropic drugs.
So, hopefully, I'll be able to get off that neuroleptic.
She also has experience with cPTSD and dissociation.
It all sounds very promising. I'm looking forward to my appointment (I'm currently on a waiting list)
#99
General Discussion / Re: Psychosis from extreme dis...
Last post by Teddy bear - January 15, 2026, 06:49:50 PMQuote from: Blueberry on January 13, 2026, 08:08:47 PMOh yeah, reviving old threads is a good idea. There's lots of really useful info and experience in old threads. I just didn't want you to be disappointed when OP doesn't respond.
That's really nice of you 🤗
I guess there's a chance others might join the discussion too — that'd be great!
#100
Symptoms - Other / Re: Schrodingers jealousy
Last post by Chart - January 15, 2026, 06:04:47 PMThank you NarcKiddo, this highlights for me something my mother did ALL THE TIME: Telling me how I felt. And not only was it simply a reflection of how SHE felt, it was done so insidiously that it took me decades to figure it out. The most common situation was simply to "mirror" something that wasn't there. I think almost exactly like your mom did. Mine would make statements about things and how it was "alright" to feel ashamed, or cry, or whatever. But rarely was there any place for me to express what exactly I was feeling. I think it's possible to simply not feel things because we were never given the opportunity to have the breathing space to explore and find out on our own what exactly we were feeling. Indeed, it is a quantum problem, both there and not there at the same moment in time. :-)