I am trying

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So I have gone and seen my counselor twice now and it has gone rather well. The sad part is I already know what  have to do in order to de-stress myself and I am not ready to let any of that go. I don’t want to believe that I have to let go of one thing in order to let go of my ED that to me is unfair. I have control of what I want in my life.

He has started me writing down what I  have been eating and what my feelings have been and what actions that I have been doing. It sounds silly but know this and I know I have to do this in order for him to help me. I have to keep up wit this and take action to a healthier better me.

 

I just wanted to say that I am fucking trying ok. At least I can say I tried.

Yelling at myself silently in the bathroom tub

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I keep find excuses not to go to the fucking doctor like my counselor has advised me too because I don’t want to go through that experience again with the machines, the blood work, the notion that I am giving up my ED its so scary.

I know the difference between right and wrong. I am studying this and its something I don’t want to let go. Its mine. My own. This is my demon. I know there are others struggling too but. Its mine. I gained weight since being 117 pounds but I want to be that skinny again and I know how to do it. I need to get back into over exercising again, stop drinking and eating all together. I am eating to play face so I have to purge. I hate bulimia. Anorexia was so much easier I just didn’t eat. This is so difficult and I hate not being in control. Now its over eating and puking that is where I am gaining the weight and that does happen. I fluctuate from 120-135 so that really fucking bothers me. I hate that about myself. I have to be on the scale I have to know, I have to see I need to know why I hate my body so fucking much.

 

I am sitting on my bathtub rim wrapped in a towel hiding from my mother. Why? Because something inside of me knows that she has been a key component to my disorder as well as body image issues from my childhood as being and obese girl. I have had too many fits over my body then too that its not fair to be feeling this way.

I know that my relationship isn’t the best or the healthiest and I do mean that both ways. I have a lot to learn and I  just want to be left alone with my own devices. I shouldn’t have gone to seen the counselor it was a bad Idea.

 

No no its not you can do this.

Shallow Me

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There are certain things in my life that I really do take to heart. Firstly when someone basically calls me shallow because I am trying to keep in shape is beyond rude. I am doing this because if no one has fucking noticed I have been battling and eating disorder for 7 years. And its crippling. For those who have survived or know someone who is a survivor  know how hard it really can be. Its a mental disorder that I have that hurts and its scary. It is something that you just don’t wake up one morning and go “why yes it is going to be ok today I am fine.” in reality its not.

Why yes I am bothered by the way that I look. Why yes I hate the fucking number on the scale. Why yes I hate the way my cloths look. I have been 220 pounds, I have been 117 pounds. My kidneys have basically failed, my liver almost stopped. Heartburn so badly that it keeps me up at night because of induced vomiting. Its a terrible thing to have and I do not wish it upon anyone else in this world but that is something that I cannot stop. What I can do is make it aware that its not fun to feel the way that  I do.

I know that I need help. Of course I do. I am not denying that having an eating disorder is just simply something for attention. By all means for me it has never been for attention. It is funny how the human brain works and simply one can snap without knowing how or why.

I also do not like when I think I have a friend they think that telling me to go off and do something that they know is horribly wrong because I said I did certain things that made me feel good, but are dangerous. That is not helpful by all means. People have no filters and I am also one of them but at least I know enough to know that sometimes its better to keep things left unsaid. I know now that I have let my guard down and I am ashamed of it. I will no longer allow someone into my life who hasn’t seen me like I am for 7 years. Hence my one best friend in the entire world. She understands what I have been through and has been helping me ever since. She knows what I have been through. No matter near or far she has my back. I am done trying to explain myself to a stranger. I get that people care but please don’t use it against me. I cannot stand that.

I wish there was more for me to say about this. There is but I am utterly drained. I am sad, confused, lost, loathing myself in which the skin I wear will never really fit no matter what I do.

Welcome to my life.

Long Time….

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It has been a while since I posted last. I have been working on getting my grades topnotch as well as trying to get back in to the swing of working in the restaurant business again. It is tiring but I have had the week off to get back on my feet with school.

I still have a heavy heart due to circumstances that I learned when I got home about my boyfriend and our friend. He sent be beautiful flowers and I guess I have another gift coming next week for me. Its been over a month since I have last seen him and I am dying. I feel hollow at times especially at night because I cannot think and when I do its always dangerous. I feel jaded, I feel used. I feel so wounded its not fair. I want to do something destructive myself but its not right and I know this. I just drink till I fall asleep again and that isn’t healthy. I am becoming paranoid if I don’t get back to the gym I am going to become morbidly obese again. I need to do something constructive with my life…I know I am going school for something that I have always been passionate about. I want to help people. I guess my boyfriend was right when he said I need to help myself before I can help others.

I guess I feel defeated because I hate when I am always right about things that hurt the most. And yet as I look in the mirror I see black eyes looking back at me sneering at my own injustice. Lately men have been crawling out of the woodwork to “be my friend.” and wanting to take me out on dates. DUDE did you not see I am in a fucking relationship?! I fucking hate this hell whole town. Everyone is poison and I hate it with a passion. I want to scream and run away already. Been one month and I am starting to get sick when I come into town. I get angry easy and frustrated. My patience is running on a thin line and I am afraid of the day that it will snap or something.

I am waiting on one friend of mine that I hope has made a change in her life. I told myself when I cam home that I was going to separate myself from her because of her life style and the fact of how she doesn’t like my relationship with my boyfriend. She isn’t jealous she is just worried he is going to hurt me again and again. She has been there at the worst times, my boyfriend and I were having a really hard time and she only sees the bad. I told her he can be a douchebag but hes mine. I am just trying to focus on school work at the library. I have always loved this library. Perhaps its the only good thing about this fucking hell whole town.

Writing for Nothing.

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I know I keep telling myself I am going to get better and better at this whole writing everything down again like I used too. There was a time in my life where I lived in notebooks, wrote so many stories almost all night. I would have these amazing story lines or something along the latter from my favorite book or new movie I enjoyed and made a twist on it myself. As I got older and started to work more and more and doing other things, I stopped.

I wonder off in stores that have paper and pens. I hate going to Office Max or Staples, Walmart or even book stores that have journals I want to write in. I think of all the stories or secrets those pages could hold for me.

They say writing can heal you. Writing can also hurt you. We can write we are hurting but then words are just over looked just like when speaking, and even reading what I write I go “wow.” all because I know the emotions I put into this. I know that I can go off on a banter or rant about nothing but my thoughts and my feelings matter. Because I am human. I want to write, because I can express myself better this way. Dealing with depression and an eating disorder is so hard. Also I am struggling with my boyfriend and his new adventure, I cry a lot at night, I lay in bed wondering the worst, that he will never come home, he will find someone else (I know in the Antarctic?) he will stop loving me because of the distance, I am afraid I will lose my best friend in the entire world. I am just very emotionally all over the fucking place.

I am also drinking coffee in the mid afternoon so that is not going to help with my jitters either so go me right? I just need someone to hug me right now. I am in love, scared, confused on who I am and I am just writing about nothing that doesn’t make any freaking sense. GO. Me.

I always seem to think that I have these great ideas and I don’t. Clearly I am nothing but a wasteful individual because I know the potential I have. …just doesn’t always work out for me.

Writing

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I was trying to think of something positive to blog about today. So I am just reflecting on my day so far.

I woke up in a panic as usually, since my boyfriend gets up pretty early for work I am left alone with my own mental devices and fall back into a coma with weird dreams of me walking into a school looking for someone. Don’t know who I was looking for but I guess it was pretty damned important. Woke up again because I didn’t want to sleep in too late. Also mostly because I can sleep till noon time without feeling guilty of my lazy-ass doing so. But since my boyfriend and I are staying with his Aunt and Uncle who are early risers I didn’t want to be that girl that they whisper about being lazy. I got up around 9 had my morning coffee, checked my email for jobs, then got dressed to run some errands with the Aunt. Its always nice getting out of the house you know? We went to Goodwill to donate items and other things when all of a sudden we had to go home because the truck told us that there was low tire pressure. Oh…damn. Well then off we went to check the tire pressure at the homestead. Yes one tire was in-fact low so we waited a little while to see if it was going to get worse. 45 minutes later to the hour the Aunt said we were waiting (close enough.) She checked the tire again and it was still the same. So we made the trip to the grocery store pretty damned fast. We were going to go to the mall so she could get her wedding bands cleaned but she didn’t want to risk it. I agreed because that would have been a hell of a walk back to the house if the tire was flat. So tonight the Uncle will hopefully fix the tire. 

Tomorrow I have a job interview with the local zoo and I am sick to my stomach about it. I have a feeling I have the job but its only going to pay 12 an hour and I have to work weekends. Lame but at this point I really don’t care because I need money.

So now just sitting in the kitchen looking up horror things. I am not allowing my weight bother me today. I feel stupid about being so depressed yesterday about the whole thing. I know I have even said that everyone should love themselves. But having an eating disorder is so hard. Sometimes I feel like I can beat this on my own but really I can’t. Someday. Someday I will be able to control it. 

 

Triggers

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Oh no. Here I go again. And  I say this with all honesty. I am having a trigger day, my heart is pounding, my stomach is in pain. I want to eat but I saw what the scale said upstairs. I thought I was going to be ok today. I got over being upset yesterday but now today is clearly a new day and yet I have found something to hate about my life. My fucking weight again. I did not like seeing the blue light blink as I cautiously stood on the scale I was hoping for the best but saw the results when the black numbers flashed at me. 134.8lbs and  I wanted to fucking scream. SCREAM. Are you fucking kidding? NO fucking no. I hate this I feel like I have lost so much control of myself that I want nothing but to lay down and die. What happened to my drive of getting up and running, feeling alive? What happened to be wanting to do my Pilates for an hour and feeling good? Why have I allowed myself to lose everything and gain so much weight back? I had to gain weight I knew this but I don’t want too and I want to cry again.

I am afraid to go running out here because I am afraid I will get lost in the neighborhood. I also haven’t been able to do my Pilates because I don’t to be watched in the living room. I could try to do them in the bedroom. But now that I have lost so much of my drive I feel like shit I want to sleep and the depression has seeped in again. People who suffer from an eating disorder can relate with these awful feelings. The scale is really the enemy, but it is our minds that are damaged. We have it in our heads that this life, this weight is awful, we are beached whales moving with the crowed as people look at you and silently judge how you look because you are not skinny enough or pretty enough. I have been battling with this for years and its starting to break me down. I keep waking up wanting to be 117lbs again like a skeleton nothing but skin and bones and having all these people tell me how beautiful I look, how great I look, how different I look since high school. I know they were just saying that because everyone in school probably assumed I was always going to be fat all of my life, and be stuck in the hell whole town and be a no body. SURPRISE MOTHER FUCKERS. I gave myself an eating disorder and proved you all fucking wrong. Because of this mental illness it controls everything I feel, everything I think, everything I do. I now don’t want to eat anything ever again, or unless I throw everything up. I have also decided being bulimic is in a sicking way therapeutic because I let it all out. Its like I am am giving myself a personal exorcism and yet I am still fucking haunted by my inner demons.

People who are also struggling like me It sucks doesn’t it? It just down right fucking sucks. I am now freaking out because I am afraid if I don’t go back to drastic changes such as starving myself and over exercising again I am going to wake up and be 150 pounds again. Then everyone will talk behind my back and say that I am fat again, and I look awful and ugly and anything else that is wrong with society today that cannot accept girls for who they are. I want to be able to feel my ribs again see them count them and stick my fingers in between I feel so ugly today. That I am never going to be accepted and loved enough. All I can think of those girls my boyfriend enjoys looking that are big, beautiful women. He is supposed to become a cop why wouldn’t he want a beautiful skinny girl friend to show off? Why would he want someone who is like 300 pounds? See this is what triggers do to me. They make me think of the worst things in the world, that I think my boyfriend wants someone else that clearly isn’t me or not even CLOSE to me. I feel so jaded and what I have wasted so much time and effort on. I am such a messed up individual that I don’t know what to do anymore. I do feel lost all the time and I know there is help…but…not like this. I thought I was doing the right thing for a while gaining the right amount of weight ( which I have medically of course not mentally) and I just feel so out-of-place. Why does life with an eating disorder have to be this fucking hard?

I am torn on what to fucking do today. Not eat. Or eat and throw up and hope for the best? I know that perhaps I should really reach out for some professional help but with health care or money kind of makes a difference. So why try to seek help if all they want is money? It’s a sad world we live in. Unless I am just making it seem like it’s an awful world to live in.

Today is just a really bad day for triggers and I need to take a nap.