Today I am happy for all the wrong reasons. I woke up incredibly depressed and wishing I hadn't woken up at all. While I was getting dressed I noticed that my waist seemed smaller. I was really excited, but also prepared for a letdown when I measured my waist. 23.5 inches. The last time I measured (which was ages ago) it was around 27 inches. I get excited about being skinny the way a little kid gets excited for Christmas, so I was elated all morning.
I had therapy this morning, which brought me down a bit. I was very self-critical in my ballet class today, which didn't make me feel much better. After ballet (jumping around for an hour and a half) I still felt restless. I was riding my bike from the college to my house, so I decided to just keep biking. And keep biking, and keep biking, and keep biking... I've ridden my bike 18-ish miles today. I'm proud of myself. I was on a bike trail that goes around a lake. After the first lap, I wanted to quit and go home. I even started to follow the path home, but I turned around and kept going. I made myself keep going until I had completed 5 laps around the lake.
When I got home I did sixty crunches, laying on the floor under the magazine pictures of teeny tiny models I hung on my bedroom wall along with a couple motivating Nike ads. I had some apple juice, because I hadn't eaten since breakfast and figured I could use a small blood-sugar boost. I immediately regretted it. 120 calories of apple juice when I could have just had water. What a waste! After that I guzzled water. I weighed myself. I was 121.5 lbs. Then I realized that I'd had quite a bit of water and approximately 8 oz of apple juice. I filled my bottle to how much I'd had to drink and weighed it. It was half a pound, and I reckoned the apple juice was probably a quarter of a pound. Subtracting this three-quarters of a pound puts me at 119.25 pounds. Woot!!!!! I'm so excited! I've lost 4.25 pounds since early September. Crazy!
I know this is really bad for me. I know that I'm approaching an unhealthy weight. I should weigh close to 130 pounds, according to BMI charts, but screw that. I'm having fun. Well, sort of... seeing the numbers go down is fun, but the actual process is hell. If I don't eat I walk through the day in a paranoid haze. If I do eat I hate myself for it, no matter how much or how little I ate. I'm trying to find some semblence of moderation.
My grandma is making 4-cheese pizza for dinner. I'm nervous. I feel like if I eat it it will completely wipe out all the hard work I did on my bike ride. I don't know how many calories I burned on the ride, nor have I looked at how many calories are in the pizza yet. I'm going to, though. I can probably only have one or two slices. I probably have to have at least two pieces or my grandma will worry, and I don't want her to be suspicious. Whenever we had pizza in the summer, I would eat nearly half of it. Disgusting. I need more self-control.
I shouldn't be losing weight. This is really bad. But I love losing weight! I'm so torn. I know if I work hard to recover I can be happy, but at the same time if I work hard at weightloss, I can be thin. Both are appealling, but being thinner usually wins. I don't know what to do!!!!
Help! :(
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
16.10.12
10.9.12
Favorite Excerpts from Willow by Julia Hoban[1]
Better than good.”
“She gets up from the bed and walks into the
bathroom to splash some cold water on her face.
She stares in the mirror for a few seconds, looking at herself as if she
were a stranger.
Who is this?
She supposed that to anyone else she looks
exactly the same as she always did, except for her hair, that is. She doesn’t have the energy or inclination to
fuss with it like she once did, so she just wears it in a braid that hangs
halfway down her back.
But she doesn’t recognize herself.
Maybe her face isn’t any different, but the look in her eyes is. Worse than dead, their expression is simply
blank. She reaches out a hand to cover
them in the mirror. She remembers the
reflection that used to stare back at her.
Those eyes weren’t dead.
She had never known that she used to be
happy. It had simply never occurred to
her that her life had all that she would ever need or want.
The one thing that can make her laugh these
days is how much she used to take things for granted. In the past, little hurts, like doing badly
in school, or getting dumped by a guy, really used to throw her. How was she to know what was lying in store
for her? She shakes her head at how foolish she used to be, getting upset
because her favorite dress got lost at the cleaners, or something equally
stupid.
Stupid!”
[1]I
have altered some of the text to exclude the character’s name and
generalize who may be speaking.
21.8.12
Random Fury
Last night when the women at Soul Collage were talking about Generose I became progressively angrier and angrier... I was so mad that I almost got up and walked out. They kept talking about how nice it is, and I thought, THAT'S BULLSHIT. Most of the nurses treat patients like crap, they don't take care of our personal belongings that we have to surrender upon arrival, and the kids who go in come out worse than they were to begin with. I've discussed this with many Generose veterans. We all agree that it's a terrible place and worsens our problems, but we suppress our depression / anger / target behaviors because we will do anything to stay out of there. Generose really isn't a place to get help or get well; it's just a place to put mentally ill kids away until their parents find a way to deal with them.
The Soul Collage women changed the subject right when I was thinking I couldn't stand listening to it anymore. I was SO glad when they stopped talking about it. I haven't been so mad just from listening to someone talk about a trigger from my past in a long time. I was FURIOUS. I wanted to say something, give my two cents, but one of the women is a nurse there. I didn't want to hurt her feelings or be rude. She actually seems very nice, but she works with children, not adolescents. I only remember two kind nurses on the adolescent ward, and there were many, many nurses.
The Soul Collage women changed the subject right when I was thinking I couldn't stand listening to it anymore. I was SO glad when they stopped talking about it. I haven't been so mad just from listening to someone talk about a trigger from my past in a long time. I was FURIOUS. I wanted to say something, give my two cents, but one of the women is a nurse there. I didn't want to hurt her feelings or be rude. She actually seems very nice, but she works with children, not adolescents. I only remember two kind nurses on the adolescent ward, and there were many, many nurses.
29.6.12
Salutations, blogging world...
I deleted my tumblr a few days ago. I was posting nothing but thinspiration on it, and I know how toxic that can be for people with eating disorders and issues with body image. I feel the need to start fresh. I wish I had a new blog engine. I wish I knew how to set up my own website. I'll most likely just stay here though, since I've already got this blog set up, and I enjoy writing. Why change, right?
I suppose this is a reflection upon my frustration with life in general, lately. I'm in a new city trying to change my lifestyle for the better, but I am still depressed. One thing I am grateful for is the fact that I have a blank slate... Very few people here know who I am. I can make new friends, if I like, but I really don't intend to put down any lasting roots here, except my deep roots in the church. I'll only be in this city for two years, so I see it as more of a stepping stone. I don't want to settle here. It is just the next phase in the process of further education.
The future is terrifying. I am constantly trying to better myself in order to improve my future, soften it a little.
I'm still scared.
I'm still depressed.
I am still unsure.
I need help.
I need to get my shit together.
that's me writing
I suppose this is a reflection upon my frustration with life in general, lately. I'm in a new city trying to change my lifestyle for the better, but I am still depressed. One thing I am grateful for is the fact that I have a blank slate... Very few people here know who I am. I can make new friends, if I like, but I really don't intend to put down any lasting roots here, except my deep roots in the church. I'll only be in this city for two years, so I see it as more of a stepping stone. I don't want to settle here. It is just the next phase in the process of further education.
The future is terrifying. I am constantly trying to better myself in order to improve my future, soften it a little.
I'm still scared.
I'm still depressed.
I am still unsure.
I need help.
I need to get my shit together.
that's me writing27.6.12
Hanging out downtown...
I am sitting on a bench in the shade in the Peace
Plaza. I like the idea of a place called
the “Peace Plaza.” There are fancy
shops, art galleries, restaurants, and a Barnes & Noble around it, and a
fountain in the middle. I recently
discovered that the plaza has free wi-fi, so I came here today because needed a
change of scenery. The sun is out, so I’m
sure my shade will recede within the hour.
There are a few people around enjoying expensive brunches as well as
sitting and simply enjoying the plaza. I
should come here more often. If it gets
too hot out here, I can always go into the Barnes & Noble. I’m getting some strange looks… does no one
ever use the wi-fi here?
I have not yet gotten bored with my new city, but I have
been feeling depressed and uninspired. I
wish I were able to work more because I could really use the money. Not only for college, but also so I could do
more to entertain myself.
I wish I had dressed up a bit more. I feel like such a loser sitting here with my
laptop when I’m not even dressed like a hip blogger. I want to meet up with someone today. My best friend is in Michigan, and a lot of
other people I want to see haven’t gotten back to me in a few days. :P The
urban life can be a lonely one…
Tomorrow is the street market, therapy, and gay youth
group. Today is boring and hot, so
far. I need to find an adventure for
myself! Later this afternoon I’ll go
home and change into something more stylish and then come back to the plaza,
perhaps.
I want to get some taize music at the library, if they have
any. That would be marvelous. I got some yoga dvd’s yesterday, and
discovered that I suck at yoga. My coure
sin’t very strong, and my balance is terrible.
I’m not going to quit though. I
really want to get good at it because I think it will help me get ready for my
ballet class in the fall.
Next week I have to go camping with my parents and my oldest
sister. I swore I wasn’t going to go
camping with my parents this summer, but my sister is going and I really want
to see my sister. Ugh. I feel like I’ve been bribed.
Well dearies, I’m off in search of the perfect summer
adventure. Love love love!
18.6.12
Nostalgia Bites
She was my best friend for seven years. She controlled me, said awful things to me,
beat me up occasionally, made me do thinks I hated myself for afterwards, told
my other friends not to talk to me, and made me feel stupid and unworthy of
anyone’s friendship. And that was just
elementary and high school!
When we got older you started hanging out with boys who
called me fat when I was around. You
told me the homemade clothes I designed were ugly and made me look poor. You never
missed an opportunity to tell me I’m a whore. You let your dog bite me without disciplining
him and told me to suck it up and get used to it.
When I stopped eating, you encouraged me. You took me out for long bike rides and runs
and yelled at me, “Keep up! Do you want
to lose weight or not?” When I cut
myself, you told me I was doing it wrong and showed me how to properly kill
myself.
Sometimes you were nice to me and I felt like our friendship
was genuine. In retrospect, however, it
was never enough to make up for how poorly you treated me. I haven’t spoken to you in two years nor have
you spoken to me.
We just “drifted apart,” as you say, but I also know that
you think homosexuality is sick and wrong.
“It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve,” you told me when I came out to
you.
When I look at you I realize I don’t even know you
anymore. I was always your loyal friend
because you made me think no one else would ever be my friend. You caused me so much anger and hurt. So why the hell do I miss you so much
sometimes?
I was really stupid to hang out with you for as long as I
did. What a waste of seven years. Now you’re bleach-blonde, thinner than I am,
you have a mustang and a steady boyfriend.
I’m not envious of you though.
I’m just pissed that my friend stopped using me as a muse for her
artistic photography and switched to you.
In pictures of me I was art. In
pictures of you, your eyes are dead and you look like a posed doll. Now I get to call you a whore, even though
I’ll never say it out loud.
14.6.12
Shower Prayers
Hello, hello everyone! I'm back! I am now writing from my new city. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have moved out of my hometown and my personal hell and am now living in a city 30 minutes from where I grew up. I will be living in my gramma's attic for the next couple years while I study for my associate's degree in liberal arts. I graduated on June 3rd, moved on the 6th, and I'm loving it.
Last weekend I went to the United Church of Christ annual meeting. It was a great experience! A lot of people from my church told me, It's all long meetings... you're going to get so bored...it's just church politics... On the contrary - I learned a lot and made some great friends. I will, however, admit that my ass did get quite sore sitting through those lengthy meetings. I got to learn more about the UCC, participate in a flash mob, and attend some great workshops. I helped out with communion during sunday worship.
During worship, a video of youth interviews was shown. The footage was taken at our last weekend camp and each of the youth had been asked to talk about their faith journey and what the church meant to them. My interview was at the end of the video. I talked for the longest. It was kind of embarassing to watch... I spoke about my eating disorder, my dying catholic faith, and how the United Church of Christ fostered new spiritual growth after my struggles with mental illness, and coming out. After the service, several people approached me to thank for openly sharing the story of my faith journey. I got a lot of hugs... and we all know, I love hugs. It was a cool experience. :)
I had a hard time eating at the conference. Since I moved out of my parents' house, I've been struggling more with my eating disorder. I have yet to get used to my new environment and routine. I ate only one meal over the entire weekend at the UCC conference. I talked to my youth pastor about it, and that helped. She is my rock. While we were in taize at the conference, I started to cry because the prayers we were singing touched me so deeply. They were prayers for help, prayers for comfort, and that is just what I need. I felt so connected to God and so in need of God's love in that moment... I had hoped that no one would see me cry, and I managed to be dry-eyed by the time taize was over and the lights came back on (we'd been meditating in candle light). I had been seen though, and I was faced with a crowd of people wondering if I was okay and trying to console me. I was mortified and furious with myself.
I booked it out of there... some of the youth were going for a walk, and I went with them. I was in a foul, self-hating mood. I didn't really want to go for a walk, but I also didn't want to turn down the opportunity to hang out with my church friends. I walked with them for a while and then headed back to my dorm. I went to my room, got ready for bed, and turned off the lights... I had a taize candle & candle holder in my room that a pastor had given me after my emotional episode. I didn't want the damn candle, it was too much of a reminder of the humiliating incident during taize. I took the candle out of my bag and I was going to get rid of it, but I discovered a chip in the glass candle holder. There was a sliver of broken glass in the bottof of the candle holder. I took it out and made a half-hearted attempt at self harm, but it didn't really work. I wasn't trying hard enough; I didn't really want to cut. I threw the broken piece of glass across the room as hard as I could and listened to it bounce off the opposite wall in the dark.
I'm having a hard time adjusting to the new city and whatnot, but it's not all bad. I have hard times still, and I'm really lonely. I'm having fun though... I'm able to spend more time with friends because I'm close to them. I can ride my bike all over town and I have access to the library, my church, GLYS, and various theaters. My faith means everything to me right now. I'm praying a lot for help with my mental illness and giving thanks for my new life.
This morning while I was in the shower, I felt very relaxed. I was very aware of how the water felt running over my skin, and the steam caressing my face. I lifted my hands a little, palms open, and said a prayer for help, for healing, and a prayer of thanks for my move and my good friends. A warm, relaxing shower is a great place for morning prayer and meditation. It's a bit like baptism, I suppose. It's purifying.
I'm going out to see Dark Shadows this afternoon with a friend, and this evening I'm going to an LGBT youth group meeting and then to a presentation at my church... some missionaries who have just returned from a year in Zimbabwe are going to talk to the congregation about their missionary work and experiences.
I just rubbed my eye and probably totally fucked up my eyeliner... great.
Dear readers, I have a favor to ask. A friend of mine has recently come out but he is unsure about his sexuality. Pray for him, send him vibes, keep him in your thoughts - whatever it is you do. He's a great friend and I wish nothing but the very best for him.
Create a beautiful day, guys...
xxx
Last weekend I went to the United Church of Christ annual meeting. It was a great experience! A lot of people from my church told me, It's all long meetings... you're going to get so bored...it's just church politics... On the contrary - I learned a lot and made some great friends. I will, however, admit that my ass did get quite sore sitting through those lengthy meetings. I got to learn more about the UCC, participate in a flash mob, and attend some great workshops. I helped out with communion during sunday worship.
During worship, a video of youth interviews was shown. The footage was taken at our last weekend camp and each of the youth had been asked to talk about their faith journey and what the church meant to them. My interview was at the end of the video. I talked for the longest. It was kind of embarassing to watch... I spoke about my eating disorder, my dying catholic faith, and how the United Church of Christ fostered new spiritual growth after my struggles with mental illness, and coming out. After the service, several people approached me to thank for openly sharing the story of my faith journey. I got a lot of hugs... and we all know, I love hugs. It was a cool experience. :)
I had a hard time eating at the conference. Since I moved out of my parents' house, I've been struggling more with my eating disorder. I have yet to get used to my new environment and routine. I ate only one meal over the entire weekend at the UCC conference. I talked to my youth pastor about it, and that helped. She is my rock. While we were in taize at the conference, I started to cry because the prayers we were singing touched me so deeply. They were prayers for help, prayers for comfort, and that is just what I need. I felt so connected to God and so in need of God's love in that moment... I had hoped that no one would see me cry, and I managed to be dry-eyed by the time taize was over and the lights came back on (we'd been meditating in candle light). I had been seen though, and I was faced with a crowd of people wondering if I was okay and trying to console me. I was mortified and furious with myself.
I booked it out of there... some of the youth were going for a walk, and I went with them. I was in a foul, self-hating mood. I didn't really want to go for a walk, but I also didn't want to turn down the opportunity to hang out with my church friends. I walked with them for a while and then headed back to my dorm. I went to my room, got ready for bed, and turned off the lights... I had a taize candle & candle holder in my room that a pastor had given me after my emotional episode. I didn't want the damn candle, it was too much of a reminder of the humiliating incident during taize. I took the candle out of my bag and I was going to get rid of it, but I discovered a chip in the glass candle holder. There was a sliver of broken glass in the bottof of the candle holder. I took it out and made a half-hearted attempt at self harm, but it didn't really work. I wasn't trying hard enough; I didn't really want to cut. I threw the broken piece of glass across the room as hard as I could and listened to it bounce off the opposite wall in the dark.
I'm having a hard time adjusting to the new city and whatnot, but it's not all bad. I have hard times still, and I'm really lonely. I'm having fun though... I'm able to spend more time with friends because I'm close to them. I can ride my bike all over town and I have access to the library, my church, GLYS, and various theaters. My faith means everything to me right now. I'm praying a lot for help with my mental illness and giving thanks for my new life.
This morning while I was in the shower, I felt very relaxed. I was very aware of how the water felt running over my skin, and the steam caressing my face. I lifted my hands a little, palms open, and said a prayer for help, for healing, and a prayer of thanks for my move and my good friends. A warm, relaxing shower is a great place for morning prayer and meditation. It's a bit like baptism, I suppose. It's purifying.
I'm going out to see Dark Shadows this afternoon with a friend, and this evening I'm going to an LGBT youth group meeting and then to a presentation at my church... some missionaries who have just returned from a year in Zimbabwe are going to talk to the congregation about their missionary work and experiences.
I just rubbed my eye and probably totally fucked up my eyeliner... great.
Dear readers, I have a favor to ask. A friend of mine has recently come out but he is unsure about his sexuality. Pray for him, send him vibes, keep him in your thoughts - whatever it is you do. He's a great friend and I wish nothing but the very best for him.
Create a beautiful day, guys...
xxx
19.5.12
A Sad Playlist for a Sad Day
Fiona Apple -Limp
Marina and the Diamonds -Teen Idle
Sia -I'm In Here
Elliot Smith -Between the Bars
Skylar Grey -Invisible
I would love for someone to grab my shoulders, shake me and say "I can tell you've lost weight. You look sick. What have you eaten today?" so I can have the satisfaction of saying "Absolutely nothing."
I don't think anyone has noticed, though. And if they have, they don't care enough to do anything about it.
Marina and the Diamonds -Teen Idle
Sia -I'm In Here
Elliot Smith -Between the Bars
Skylar Grey -Invisible
I would love for someone to grab my shoulders, shake me and say "I can tell you've lost weight. You look sick. What have you eaten today?" so I can have the satisfaction of saying "Absolutely nothing."
I don't think anyone has noticed, though. And if they have, they don't care enough to do anything about it.
18.5.12
The Only Title I Can Come Up With Is: "Today Sucked."
I am the kind of girl who always tries her hardest to put on a happy face, and takes off this mask only when she is sincerely unable to smile. For people who know me, you may think that this isn't entirely true - or on the contrary you may think that I really am happy all the time. It depends on how well you know me and how much of my personal struggles I am willing to share with you. Either way, I feel that most people don't have a clear perception of who I am and what I feel.
Tonight is one of those times when I physically cannot smile. Too often I say, "I'm okay, it's okay. Don't worry about it!" and don't let anyone know that I'm actually hurt, or angry, or sad, or confused. I tend to let people walk all over me. Sometimes this is a good thing, but sometimes its too much. I need to write about this. I need to get it off my chest and hopefully feel better as a result. I don't intend to hurt anyone's feelings, place blame, or make anyone feel bad. If I do, I am very sorry and I really don't mean to do so.
Ever since my first spring play, I have looked forward to being recognized as a senior in my final spring play. The director gives each senior a card and flowers.This year was my turn for that, but I missed the boat... I went back and forth debating whether I wanted to be in the play. I didn't try out, but got a part. I only wanted a small part, but felt that I wasn't living up to my potential and that I would disappoint someone if I didn't take on a larger role. So I switched from a one-liner to a more substantial supporting role of a character named Clougheïe. I wasn't enjoying myself at practices at all. I was depressed, self-concious, and felt like an outsider with the rest of the cast. My depression got the best of me and I quit the play.
Weeks later I felt bad that I wasn't a part of it anymore and went to one of the final rehearsals, hoping to put my time and talents into a backstage job. I was assigned to helping out with makeup. The first night of the job, several girls in the cast made it very clear to me that I was not wanted there. They didn't think it was fair for me to quit and then come back and expect to be able to participate. I don't blame them...
I made sure one of the guys who was helpless with makeup got ready, and then moved on to lights. The other kid on lights treated me like I was an idiot and when no one else was around he told me he felt good about his job with lights and curtain, but he was really worried that I was going to screw up the whole show. That didn't make me feel very good. I am just as capable of running sound and lights as he is.
At the end of the show, the I went up onstage at the end of the curtain call with the other guy on lights & curtain. There were three seniors on the stage. Two of them were recognized, given their hug, card, and flowers. I was not.
I do not, in any way blame the director for forgetting about me. It's my own damn fault because I quit. I should have toughed my way through it even though it was hard. I am really disappointed in myself for giving up my role. It was a stupid move. Yes, I remember exactly what my sadness and discomfort felt like when I was in the play, and it was awful. I've felt like that in other plays as well, but I stuck with it in the past. I'm furious with myself for not doing so in this case.
I ruined this evening for myself, and I am not looking forward to going back tomorrow.
Tonight is one of those times when I physically cannot smile. Too often I say, "I'm okay, it's okay. Don't worry about it!" and don't let anyone know that I'm actually hurt, or angry, or sad, or confused. I tend to let people walk all over me. Sometimes this is a good thing, but sometimes its too much. I need to write about this. I need to get it off my chest and hopefully feel better as a result. I don't intend to hurt anyone's feelings, place blame, or make anyone feel bad. If I do, I am very sorry and I really don't mean to do so.
Ever since my first spring play, I have looked forward to being recognized as a senior in my final spring play. The director gives each senior a card and flowers.This year was my turn for that, but I missed the boat... I went back and forth debating whether I wanted to be in the play. I didn't try out, but got a part. I only wanted a small part, but felt that I wasn't living up to my potential and that I would disappoint someone if I didn't take on a larger role. So I switched from a one-liner to a more substantial supporting role of a character named Clougheïe. I wasn't enjoying myself at practices at all. I was depressed, self-concious, and felt like an outsider with the rest of the cast. My depression got the best of me and I quit the play.
Weeks later I felt bad that I wasn't a part of it anymore and went to one of the final rehearsals, hoping to put my time and talents into a backstage job. I was assigned to helping out with makeup. The first night of the job, several girls in the cast made it very clear to me that I was not wanted there. They didn't think it was fair for me to quit and then come back and expect to be able to participate. I don't blame them...
I made sure one of the guys who was helpless with makeup got ready, and then moved on to lights. The other kid on lights treated me like I was an idiot and when no one else was around he told me he felt good about his job with lights and curtain, but he was really worried that I was going to screw up the whole show. That didn't make me feel very good. I am just as capable of running sound and lights as he is.
At the end of the show, the I went up onstage at the end of the curtain call with the other guy on lights & curtain. There were three seniors on the stage. Two of them were recognized, given their hug, card, and flowers. I was not.
I do not, in any way blame the director for forgetting about me. It's my own damn fault because I quit. I should have toughed my way through it even though it was hard. I am really disappointed in myself for giving up my role. It was a stupid move. Yes, I remember exactly what my sadness and discomfort felt like when I was in the play, and it was awful. I've felt like that in other plays as well, but I stuck with it in the past. I'm furious with myself for not doing so in this case.
I ruined this evening for myself, and I am not looking forward to going back tomorrow.
15.5.12
For Corey
This evening I will be attending the memorial service of a boy who was my age. He was bullied for being gay, adn it drove him to end his own life. I only met him once and now he's dead and I'll never get to know him better. To all of you who bully other people because they are different or because you want to feel better about yourself, STOP IT. There were two teen suicides in the past couple weeks, and that is far too many. Corey died when he jumped off a bridge. I jumped off a bridge once. I didn't die, I wasn't even hurt. Kind of a miracle, huh? I wish there could have been a miracle for Corey. Corey was a great kid. The world wants him back.
1.5.12
If I could explain, I would.
I don't have words today. I don't have words for this. I could try, I guess.
It's
hopeless
immense
overwhelming
all-consuming
dark
cold
lonely
hollow
bitter
unbearable
helpless
sadness.
It's
hopeless
immense
overwhelming
all-consuming
dark
cold
lonely
hollow
bitter
unbearable
helpless
sadness.
27.4.12
25.4.12
*Flips the bird*
Although this is probably not the case, it begins to feel a bit more personal when she says she doesn't have time for one-on-one, and yet there is T. Just her and T. Havin' a little one-on-one time. Yesterday she said she would come get me in half an hour so we could talk, but she never showed up, and then made out like I should have known all along she wouldn't come. Well actually, miss, I usually expect people to show up when they say they will unless they tell me ahead of time that they are unable to come.
I'm sitting around crying all day because I'm facing more anxiety, depression, anger, and hopelessness than I can deal with alone, but se tells me she has no time for me. Why not? She clearly has time for the others. That's what makes it feel like she's avoiding me or personally attacking me, because she's with other people in her office all the time but she dissmisses me.
So I'll just continue to sit here and continue to cry. Their plans for college are more important than my plans for . . . I shouldn't finish that sentence in case someone sticks me in the loony bit again. Use your imagination.
I am completely irrational. I'm a stupid fucking loser.
I'm sitting around crying all day because I'm facing more anxiety, depression, anger, and hopelessness than I can deal with alone, but se tells me she has no time for me. Why not? She clearly has time for the others. That's what makes it feel like she's avoiding me or personally attacking me, because she's with other people in her office all the time but she dissmisses me.
So I'll just continue to sit here and continue to cry. Their plans for college are more important than my plans for . . . I shouldn't finish that sentence in case someone sticks me in the loony bit again. Use your imagination.
I am completely irrational. I'm a stupid fucking loser.
24.4.12
If you don't want to listen to me bitching about how much my life sucks then don't look at my blog and go print some coloring pages or something. I don't have anything nice to say.
I can't do a single goddamn thing right. My hands are shaking so my hand writing is terrible. My sweater is linty and I'm too fat for these pants. I need to buy a lot of new pants in size fat. I didn't put on any makeup this morning so I look like hell.
Today is solo / ensemble contest for band and choir. I just want to look nice, but that is clearly impossible for me. I don't have anything nice to wear except for these black dress pants and the same fucking sweater that I wear to every band event. Everyone else will look better than me. I don't even want to go to contest! I have put in three years of solos and duets, isn't that enough? I'm only going because our band director is making me. I have to be part of a clarinet choir and play a stupid Pavanne that no one in the ensemble likes.
The school counselor is supposed to meet me in the library. She was supposed to meet me here 10 minutes ago. I don't like being stuck in my own head. It's a shitty place to be.
This week is the last time I will see my current therapist. She's quitting her job. It's bullshit & it's not fair. I really, really like her. I don't want to see anybody else. I'm sorry that I'm such a selfish brat but I wish she weren't quitting her job. I need someone I like and trust, and I've never had that before. This therapist is the first good therapist I've ever had.
Today is not a good day. I will not be eating anything today. I'm a disappointment.
Today is solo / ensemble contest for band and choir. I just want to look nice, but that is clearly impossible for me. I don't have anything nice to wear except for these black dress pants and the same fucking sweater that I wear to every band event. Everyone else will look better than me. I don't even want to go to contest! I have put in three years of solos and duets, isn't that enough? I'm only going because our band director is making me. I have to be part of a clarinet choir and play a stupid Pavanne that no one in the ensemble likes.
The school counselor is supposed to meet me in the library. She was supposed to meet me here 10 minutes ago. I don't like being stuck in my own head. It's a shitty place to be.
This week is the last time I will see my current therapist. She's quitting her job. It's bullshit & it's not fair. I really, really like her. I don't want to see anybody else. I'm sorry that I'm such a selfish brat but I wish she weren't quitting her job. I need someone I like and trust, and I've never had that before. This therapist is the first good therapist I've ever had.
Today is not a good day. I will not be eating anything today. I'm a disappointment.
17.4.12
Nothing I do works.
If someone else had to feel the way I do right now for just a minute or two, they would probably hit the floor. I've built up a lot of mental muscle and scar tissue, I reckon, so I can at least fake my way through the day. I would love for someone to know what exactly is happening inside me right now, and say wow, that's awful... Just to have someone understand would make me feel a tiny bit better.
I am SO PISSED OFF that none of my drawings are turning out well. Drawing is a great release for me when I'm this upset, but only if I draw well. The only trouble is that I never draw well when I'm upset. This causes me to get progressively angrier and more frustrated as well as the original underlying depression and insecurities.
I need someone to yell at. I'm going to turn into a bitch if I don't get help soon.
16.4.12
Today is a terrible day.
I'm supposed to be taking notes right now, but I just don't feel like it. I don't care about much of anything at present. I would give anything to be in the sanctuary at Peace church right now. I'm tired and sad and run-down.
I miss my girlfriend. Oh sorry, I mean ex-girlfriend.
I feel empty, void. There's a blackness in my chest that won't go away. My insatiable need for affection is eating away at me. Having such a tremendous need makes me feel pathetic and very irritated with myself. I'm so frustrated with this neediness, wanting, and sickness.
I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself! I don't want to, but that's how I feel right now. I have lots of good reasons for this, too, so it's hard to convince myself that it's alright, I'm alright. I am behind in three of my six classes, and owe make-up work in two more classes. I'm trying to ask my supports for help, but I'm talkng in circles. It's damn near impossible for anyone to help me in the state I'm in.
I'm really hungry. I've been indulging in "target behaviors," whatever the hell that means... I've been reading memoirs about anoretics, and all I've eaten today is 4 oz of fat-free yogurt. I only ate that to appease someone who's concerned about me. I feel really bad for making people worry about me. I'm such a stupid, worthless piece of sh*t.
I wish Sarah would stop staring at me. To the students sitting around me while I'm blogging in class: Yeah, I get it. We have a ten page paper to work on, and I'm already behind schedule. I honestly don't care, though, so leave me alone and quit looking at me like I'm a hopeless bum. I am a hopeless bum, but it's really none of your business.
The school counselor is unavailable for the next two weeks, and I only get to go to therapy once a week. I'm screwed. I need someone to talk to. I need someone to help me eat. I need a hug.
I wonder if we have play practice tonight. I can't remember. Rachel...?
I need some serious inspiration and motivation here. I'm going nowhere fast.
I miss my girlfriend. Oh sorry, I mean ex-girlfriend.
I feel empty, void. There's a blackness in my chest that won't go away. My insatiable need for affection is eating away at me. Having such a tremendous need makes me feel pathetic and very irritated with myself. I'm so frustrated with this neediness, wanting, and sickness.
I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself! I don't want to, but that's how I feel right now. I have lots of good reasons for this, too, so it's hard to convince myself that it's alright, I'm alright. I am behind in three of my six classes, and owe make-up work in two more classes. I'm trying to ask my supports for help, but I'm talkng in circles. It's damn near impossible for anyone to help me in the state I'm in.
I'm really hungry. I've been indulging in "target behaviors," whatever the hell that means... I've been reading memoirs about anoretics, and all I've eaten today is 4 oz of fat-free yogurt. I only ate that to appease someone who's concerned about me. I feel really bad for making people worry about me. I'm such a stupid, worthless piece of sh*t.
I wish Sarah would stop staring at me. To the students sitting around me while I'm blogging in class: Yeah, I get it. We have a ten page paper to work on, and I'm already behind schedule. I honestly don't care, though, so leave me alone and quit looking at me like I'm a hopeless bum. I am a hopeless bum, but it's really none of your business.
The school counselor is unavailable for the next two weeks, and I only get to go to therapy once a week. I'm screwed. I need someone to talk to. I need someone to help me eat. I need a hug.
I wonder if we have play practice tonight. I can't remember. Rachel...?
I need some serious inspiration and motivation here. I'm going nowhere fast.
30.3.12
No words.
I'm having a rough day. I feel empty. Something is lacking. As usual, I have no ideas, no reasons for why I feel this way. When I have a bad day like this and there is no reason for how I feel, it seems like some part of me that I'm unaware of is in control.
I have no words for this. I can't even think straight. It takes a great deal of effort just to put together a coherent sentence.
I have no words for this. I can't even think straight. It takes a great deal of effort just to put together a coherent sentence.
27.3.12
Bonnie
When I was still a part of the Catholic church I had a fabulous confirmation teacher. Due to my pent up, secret anger with God and disbelief that God existed I clammed up and didn't allow her to teach me much about my faith. Outside of the church, however, she was a huge inspiration to me. She, like me, had also struggled with an eating disorder in her past, and was familiar with the misery of mental illness. I used to go for long walks on summer evenings and would "coincidentally" end up at her house. She could usually be found out in her front garden with her dog and cat enjoying the weather. We stood outside in front of her house and had long conversations about mental illness, faith, our interests, and homophobia in the church. She helped me through hard times. She was always there to give me a hug when I needed it, she understood my pain but she also understood my creativity and encouraged me to put it to use when I needed emotional release.
Unfortunately, her mental illness came back to plague her. For nearly a year now, I have not spoken to her or heard from her. I don't even know if she ever leaves her house anymore. When I've tried to contact her, she says she has too many mental & physical health issues to reach out to anyone and that she is focusing all her energy on getting well and taking care of her family. I understand and respect her decision to pull away from her social life to focus on what's really important to her, but at the same time I can't deny the fact that I miss her so much. My heart is breaking for her because she means the world to me and I can't stand to imagine how much pain she is in.
I saw her tonight - just a glimpse when I walked past her house with my aunt's dog. Her hair is longer. I can't tell if she's thinner or not. She turned around for a moment before walking behind her house and I don't know if she saw me or recognized me. I really wanted to yell her name, make her see me, and insist on giving her a hug; a healing embrace. I have to respect her needs, though.
I might write a letter, just to let her know what's going on in my world and remind her how much she means to me, and let her know I'm thinking of her and praying for her. There's so much I want to tell her. I want to share the news of my new found love with her, let her see my blue hair as well as show her photos of when my hair was purple. I want to let her know I'm here for her, I will listen, and that she is worth the world to me. It's very hard to let go and wait for her to come to me.
I plan on inviting her to my graduation party. I really hope she comes.
Unfortunately, her mental illness came back to plague her. For nearly a year now, I have not spoken to her or heard from her. I don't even know if she ever leaves her house anymore. When I've tried to contact her, she says she has too many mental & physical health issues to reach out to anyone and that she is focusing all her energy on getting well and taking care of her family. I understand and respect her decision to pull away from her social life to focus on what's really important to her, but at the same time I can't deny the fact that I miss her so much. My heart is breaking for her because she means the world to me and I can't stand to imagine how much pain she is in.
I saw her tonight - just a glimpse when I walked past her house with my aunt's dog. Her hair is longer. I can't tell if she's thinner or not. She turned around for a moment before walking behind her house and I don't know if she saw me or recognized me. I really wanted to yell her name, make her see me, and insist on giving her a hug; a healing embrace. I have to respect her needs, though.
I might write a letter, just to let her know what's going on in my world and remind her how much she means to me, and let her know I'm thinking of her and praying for her. There's so much I want to tell her. I want to share the news of my new found love with her, let her see my blue hair as well as show her photos of when my hair was purple. I want to let her know I'm here for her, I will listen, and that she is worth the world to me. It's very hard to let go and wait for her to come to me.
I plan on inviting her to my graduation party. I really hope she comes.
107 page views and 47 days
Good morning readers! Happy 100 page views!!!
I'm exhausted. My medication turns me into a zombie. I sleep like a rock at night, which is wonderful, but it's really difficult to wake up in the morning and get through the day. I'm very easily distracted during my online class - an hour and a half in which I am expected to read through a ton of material, take a billion little quizzes, write papers, and pump out art work like a friggin' print factory without supervision or motivation. I usually go on twitter...and, of course, here! I very rarely write from home. I write every morning while I'm at school. I'm a terrible student, I know...and I don't care.
I'm exhausted. My medication turns me into a zombie. I sleep like a rock at night, which is wonderful, but it's really difficult to wake up in the morning and get through the day. I'm very easily distracted during my online class - an hour and a half in which I am expected to read through a ton of material, take a billion little quizzes, write papers, and pump out art work like a friggin' print factory without supervision or motivation. I usually go on twitter...and, of course, here! I very rarely write from home. I write every morning while I'm at school. I'm a terrible student, I know...and I don't care.
My hands are healing up very nicely from my panic attack scratching, but it's taking forever. Although it may seem like a fabulous idea at the time, I always regret self harm later. As singer Ida Maria says, "What's easy in the night is always such a bite in the morning light." So please, don't hurt yourself. You are beautiful, you are worth the world, and you will make it through this.
This is the part where someone I know reads this and texts me saying "YOU SHOULD TAKE YOUR OWN ADVICE!" *Sigh* I know, I know. I"m working on it! I promise.
A young couple is having a house built across the street. It's strange... they tore down the old house that was on the lot. An old woman had been living in that house for as long as I can remember, but she passed away about a month ago. I'd shoveled the snow off her walk for years, and then one day when I came home from school, the house was gone and the front walk I'd shoveled had been taken out. Now a huge, ugly house is being planted in the ground. They've just finished the structure for the basement and they're putting in the floor on the first level today. It's super irritating to have to wake up to construction noises at 6 in the morning. Why couldn't they just buy one of the many houses on the market that people are desperately trying to sell because we all need the money?? Did they really have to build a brand new house right there?
I saw a kid get pantsed in the hallway at school this morning. I know it's totally mean and inappropriate, but it made me smile a little bit . . . I told Stacie about it, and she thought it was awful. "I mean, seriously, how old are they??" she asked, in reference to their immaturity.
"Well.." I said, "I pants my 26-year-old sister sometimes..."
"Yeah, but that's funny," she replied, and we both burst out laughing. I love her. :) I'm going to miss her so much when I graduate!!!
I can't believe there are only 47 days (not including weekends) left of my senior year. It's wild! After graduation I'm going to move in with my grandma in a town 20 minutes away so I can be closer to my church and college. I'm going to be a grown -up.... weird....
26.3.12
Spoiler Alert: Hunger Games
My mental health is taking a turn for the worst. I went to church yesterday, and normally I am elated to be there. I love going to church; it's my favorite place to be. I wasn't as excited as usual, though. Just relieved. I felt tired. During service I cried. Kayla put her arm around me and I cried harder. What is it about affection & touch that makes my heart and spine feel electrocuted? When people show concern or care for me I feel like I'm having a little 2-second heart attack.
I saw my girlfriend last night. She came with me to youth group and we went out to eat. I was struggling to eat, which I know was hard for her to witness. She thinks I purged, too, but I didn't. I want her to believe me and trust me when I tell her I'm trying my hardest to get better for her. If it weren't for her I wouldn't be putting nearly so much effort into recovery. It's exhausting. 
I got to go see the Hunger Games yesterday. It was really good! There were a lot of details that didn't match up with the book, but other than that it was a fabulous movie. It was terrifying yet moving to see all those kids simultaneously killing each other and banding together to protect each other. My favorite scene was when Katniss laid Rue to rest with a bouquet of Queen Anne's Lace in her hands and blue & purple Lupins framing her face. Katniss's compassion for the little girl and her three-finger salute to District 11brought me to tears. I wish Rue could have made it out alive with Peeta and Katniss. :( 
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