Point to the scar and tell the story...

"I wish you the best..."

2012-01-03T17:04:00.000-06:00

"I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love
and I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,oooo
I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough
I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!
And fuck her too."
I said,
"If I was richer, I'd still be with ya"
Ha, now ain't that some shit?
(Ain't that some shit?)
And although there's pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a...
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,ooo

Yeah I'm sorry,
I can't afford a Ferrari,
But that don't mean I can't get you there.
I guess he's an Xbox and I'm more Atari,
But the way you play your game ain't fair.
I pity the fool
That falls in love with you
(Oh shit she's a golddigger)
Well
(Just thought you should know nigga)
Oooooooooh
I've got some news for you.
Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend.

I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love
and I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,oooo
I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough
I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!
And fuck her too."
I said,
"If I was richer, I'd still be with ya"
Ha, now ain't that some shit?
(Ain't that some shit?)
And although there's pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a...
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,ooo

Now I know,
That I had to borrow,
Beg and steal and lie and cheat.
Trying to keep ya,
Trying to please ya.
'Cause being in love with your ass ain't cheap.
I pity the fool
That falls in love with you
(Oh shit she's a golddigger)
Well
(Just thought you should know nigga)
Oooooooooh
I've got some news for you.
Ooh,
I really hate your ass right now.

I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love
and I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,oooo
I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough
I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!
And fuck her too."
I said,
"If I was richer, I'd still be with ya"
Ha, now ain't that some shit?
(Ain't that some shit?)
And although there's pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a...
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,ooo

I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love
and I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,oooo
I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough
I'm like,
"FUCK YOU!
And fuck her too."
I said,
"If I was richer, I'd still be with ya"
Ha, now ain't that some shit?
(Ain't that some shit?)
And although there's pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a...
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,ooo"
-Cee Lo Green, "Fuck You!"

This is spacey, update post. Just letting you know up front.

My life is becoming so much better every single day. I am halfway through the quitting smoking process. I am moving to a different town to be with the my one and only. My precious Audrey is very much on the mend from her surgery.

I had a wonderful holiday season. I had my first "holiday swap" with my beau. I did Thanksgiving with his people and he did Christmas Eve and morning with my family. My nephews are precious, and Christmas was no exception! And I had a wonderful time with his family. He has some really cool cousins!

I have a lot of challenges ahead of me. After quitting smoking, I have to focus on my weight and fitness in a healthy way. I am hoping that the move will help me transition to a normally active lifestyle as I become the lady of the house that I have dreamed about becoming. Also, I am getting to somewhat design the exercise room which is a huge motivator for me!

Closing the door on 2011, I left behind some unhealthy behaviors and also said a silent goodbye to half of my family tree. I am looking for peace now. Serenity is one of my top priorities. Songs like "Fuck You" are great to listen to while I work out any lingering resentment, hurt, and hatred on my heavy bag. I wish no one any harm. I can't waste energy on negative emotions. So, I pick up and move on.

I have learned that I am extremely resilient in some ways, and I heal quickly when I am not terrified of what harmed me in the first place. I will heal, and will start living out a realistic version of my fairytale. I will be living with my Prince Charming, with laundry, cleaning, cooking and being bargain-savvy all rolled in to the package. I am still drawn to worldly things, but I am starting to see the ridiculousness of $879 Prada handbags and just how impractical my dream car (a BMW 5 series) really is. I admire hybrids now. :)

As far as the eating disorder goes, I am still dealing with symptoms while not actively engaging in the disease. It is always there, I think. It is always looking to seize control again. I won't go near a scale and avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I feel a great deal of shame. After a meal, a yogurt, an apple, I think, well, that was ### calories; damn. My lower back has been troubling me which has made even basic cardio difficult, and yoga painful. I feel so lazy for not doing more, but I have been advised to let my back rest. I can try again soon.

I'll try to update again sometime soon, but I am actually busy right now. If something big happens, I am sure I will feel the need to pen my thoughts here.

Much love to my friends.

And to someone special, if you still read:
"And although there's pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a...
"FUCK YOU!"
Ooo,ooo,ooo"

Balance

2011-11-02T15:14:00.001-05:00

"You were a child
Crawling on your knees toward it
Making momma so proud
But your voice is too loud
We like to watch you laughing
You pick the insects off plants
No time to think of consequences

[Chorus:]
Control yourself
Take only what you need from it
A family of trees wanting to be haunted
Control yourself
Take only what you need from it
A family of trees wanting to be haunted

The water is warm
But it's sending me shivers
A baby is born
Crying out for attention
Memories fade
Like looking through a fogged mirror
Decisions too
Decisions are made and not bought
But I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot
I guess not...

Control yourself
Take only what you need from it
A family of trees wanting to be haunted
Control yourself
Take only what you need from it
A family of trees wanting to be haunted."
- MGMT "Kids"

I am really starting to appreciate this new outlook on life that I have given myself. Changing my perspective on what a healthy life is, and changing my view of the world around me has improved my mood substantially overall.

The first thing I did was take a hard look at bulimia (and previous dalliances with anorexia) and what it had done to me or, rather, what I had done to myself. The eating disorder alter ego "Ronina" had coaxed me into a very dark personal hell. I viewed my body with the most degrading and virulent criticism possible. The control I had over what I consumed, and what I expelled, gave me the peace I needed. It also got me positive attention. Comments about how skinny I was made me glow inside, but never for long. My mind would quickly turn a compliment into an insult. I was skinny, but never skinny enough. With bulimia, I was always hiding, always ashamed. Stuffing myself like a pig, I thought, and then kneeling before the toilet to cleanse myself.

I could reflect for a while on the eating disorders, but the important thing is what I have done. Instead of starving myself, I am now starving "Ronina" to death. I no longer feed her with my insecurities, fear, shame, and self-loathing. I ignore that part of me as much as I can, and while I do manage that most of the time, I will occasionally let my eyes critically sweep over my body in the mirror. I still am hard on myself. But not as much.

To clear out the noise of self-hatred and scorn for my body, I fill my day with healthy levels of activity. If I am not exercising, I am reading or writing or watching a movie. I do exercise a lot, but I enjoy food, and I have learned that to enjoy food I have to "earn" it. That may not be the most healthy attitude, but it is a step in the right direction. I no longer wake up wondering what I will eat and purge. I wake up and know what my plan is for the day.

I read a health and fitness magazine each month, and it emphasizes over and over again how important it is to balance food and exercise. I am even more savvy about nutrition and exercise than before. My goal is not to be a society-approved waif, and in the magazine I read you won't find a model-thin wisp draped across a couch. My goal is to be strong, fit, healthy and balanced. I don't have any "fancy" goals yet, like running a 5K or something. I want to build muscle, improve my balance and focus with yoga, and keep improving my cardio.

Yoga has been essential to my current success. It allows me to lengthen and tone my muscles, focus on my breathing, and get in touch with what my body is calling for. I have done it so much now that I am teaching my mom! My ability to balance still needs work, but I cannot let the perfectionist side of me fret over that. It will come to me in time, and with practice.

Not everything is wonderful. I am pretty rigid about my food and exercise still even though it is in healthy amounts. I am stressed about looking for houses with Bryan. Things still get tense between me and the people in my life. I am not as reactive as I used to be, and my moods pass quickly with reason swiftly replacing emotion.

A good start, I'd say. I'm proud of myself.

Appreciating My Body

2011-10-26T10:46:00.000-05:00

"Seeing into darkness is clarity.
Knowing how to yield is strength."
-Tao Te Ching

I have come to a point where I am starting to really feel the benefits of my current lifestyle. This is not to say that I haven't wobbled because I have. Eating disorders are not diseases that can be overcome by sheer willpower. Willpower, in my opinion, feeds them and gives them strength to continue sucking away self-esteem, body image, and confidence. Willpower helped me to restrict myself to only one Lean Cuisine a day, and exercise, and watch the pounds fall away at what I now consider to be an alarming rate. That is not my true path, not the way to a balanced, peaceful life.

As I have continued with my yoga practice, I have started generating a mind-body connection that is present throughout my day. As I do cardiovascular exercise, I now notice the muscle groups working together. I feel a quiet joy that I can choose what route I want to take for my daily cardio outdoors, not limited by my body at all. I am starting to feel like I actually own my body, and that it is something I want to take pride in and cherish. I want to nourish it with healthy foods, in the right quantities, and not purge. I feel the muscles in my back and abdomen getting stronger, and notice how I can balance my body better and longer than before. I hardly notice the multitudes of scars from self-injury anymore. They do not matter, really. The scars will always be there, but the scars are as faded as the memories. I can't let marks on my skin detract from the power that I feel building inside of me, the calm strength that comes from living a balanced life. There are still many pitfalls, though. Don't let the optimistic tone of this post fool you; I am very much still fighting the desire to binge and purge on a daily basis.

Having those feelings is maddening, and still causes me a great deal of shame. I hide from family and friends because of how I see myself. The shame of being diseased this way locks you up and freezes you in place. I still get into situations where I am terrified of eating because, what if I can't stop? What if I have to run to the bathroom and purge and/or gobble up laxatives like candy? And, on the anorexic side of things, I do get hungry on the food plan I have assigned myself and get into troubled thinking. If I am hungry eating all these calories, why not skip most of the calories, just be hungry and lose weight faster? But I have finally learned that is not a way to live, and that it is extremely unhealthy. Anorexia is so very seductive in its promises of quick weight loss with a waif-like, bone-thin body. I truly wanted that for a long, long time. Now I want a fit, healthy body. I want to radiate confidence, peace, and strength. The tormented path of bulimia or anorexia will never get me there.

It is hard to try to do this on my own. I can't let myself slide into a self-control mindset, so I am very much trying to follow guidelines I learned in eating disorder treatment. Mindfulness is the key to staying on a healthy path; being aware and open to the needs of my body.

I have a silly idea or goal as a reward for my hard work. The next time Bryan and I go to Mentone, I want us to both be in such good shape that we can complete one of the difficult hikes down into Little River Canyon. We've taken plenty of awesome pictures from the top, but it would amazing to get the perspective from the canyon bottom. I don't think I am dreaming too big there. I think it would be fun! Probably ought to run this by him first, though! :-)

Totally confused!

2011-10-24T12:45:00.001-05:00

"Sometimes I'm confused by what I think is really obvious. But what I think is really obvious obviously isn't obvious..."

- Michael Stipe

Maybe I am thinking too much about my whole approach to a healthy lifestyle. Maybe I just need to back off and look at the big picture to figure out what to do. But I have this feeling that nothing will be so simple for me on this front.

Having an eating disorder for as long as I have has crippled me in some very critical areas. Things that average people do without even thinking about it, like eating healthily and exercising normally, are complex issues for me without even adding in the whole purging/starving aspect of my life. It is not that I don't know a lot about food, nutrition, and exercise; it is simply that I cannot connect that knowledge with actual practice in my life. So, I am left thinking about it, examining it from all angles, thinking about it some more and still getting nowhere. Maybe I am fearful of the structure that would become a part of my life as a result of changing. Maybe I am scared of the change altogether. But I do not feel the fear, if it is there. Perhaps my inability to put the changes into practice makes the fear irrelevant, and thus is does not show itself.

This may seem really stupid to most people, but there are so many ways I can fail if I don't do this correctly. I mean, how hard can it be, right? Follow a meal plan, follow an exercise plan, boom, you're good to go. This is where it gets sticky for me. If I have a meal plan, for 1200 calories (which is huge, ugh), and deviate from that meal plan at all, like one grape more than I was supposed to have, then I feel like a failure and have to take action to make up for that extra grape. Or, let's say I wake up with a headache or PMS or whatever and don't feel like exercising. I will have screwed up, and feel like what's the use of trying when you can't follow the plan? Worse than either of those scenarios is that monitoring what I eat fucks with my head and twists me back into cutting more and more calories away until I am eating next to nothing each day. After all, a well-intentioned diet last summer was what swiftly kicked me into anorexia mode again.

I am very "all or nothing" about this, and I know that to be successful in fighting my disorder I have to have some flexibility. Perfectionism can be evil and deadly. It interferes with many aspects of my life, not just this. I just don't know what to do about any of my current problems, and am trapped in limbo until I pull myself out of it. I have accomplished so much in the past by overcoming dangerous behaviors without assistance, so I am (shakily) confident that I can do this, too. I am just full of questions and doubts and am not finding the reassurance I need in readily available solutions.

I guess this isn't supposed to be easy, but dammit I wish just one thing in my life could be easy for a change. I am so fucking tired of fighting things off all the time. Does everything have to be difficult? Enough bitching...

Maybe I should see a nutritionist or something? I don't know.

Anyways, this is a shitty post. I slept poorly, and am feeling a little defeated today, so I beg your pardon.

"Don't be trapped by dogma"

2011-10-13T09:07:00.002-05:00

"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

-Steve Jobs, 2005 Standford University commencement address

This one is for you, frequent reader from California, so read closely.

I am unapologetically me. Whatever I have done in the past, whatever I do in the future, I claim as my own. I have made mistakes, scores of them. But I do not resent them or regret them anymore. Everything that has happened had a purpose or a lesson behind it. It may have taken several lessons for me to finally catch on, but once I did, I changed for the better.

An example of a lesson that took several attempts to learn was to value my life. I am still struggling with it, still struggling with the occasional suicidal impulse. For the most part, however, I do value my life. I have been told that my suicide attempts were "wasting other people's time" and after much thought, I feel negatively about that statement. It was made with offhand ignorance, and I resent it deeply. It is the sort of ignorance that comes strictly through unfamiliarity. We don't really know each other, you see. We haven't had any semblance of a normal relationship for years. Just so you know, the last suicide attempt was extremely serious and this is not just according to me, but to my doctors as well. I overdosed on a month's worth of three different medications. I would have died without intervention, no doubt about it. I did it because I had been discharged from ACED and felt like there would be no end to my eating disorder or my self-injury. There was no way out except through death. I wasn't screaming for attention, wasn't a self-destructive baby pitching a tantrum; I wanted to fucking die and sink into the peaceful, unconscious state of death. So, don't tell me that I am "wasting" someone's time. That kind of negativity feeds into my now diminishing opinion that I have no value, that my problems aren't that serious, and that I can just pull it together and be normal (whatever that is).

What I can do is become the person I want to be. I want to be a wife and mother, a partner and friend. I want balance, love, and peace in my life. I will, without wavering, begin to cut out the negative parts of my life that remain.

I am not a disappointment. I may not have degrees or "success" that can be boasted about over cocktails, but I know this much: I am a survivor. There is no disappointment in that. That is something which, with my set of circumstances, should be lauded. I have survived through a horrible childhood filled with violence, and one creepy encounter with a janitor. I have scrambled through adolescence with mental illness beginning to show itself. I have been addicted and have gotten clean and sober. I have lived through two abusive relationships. I have survived, despite my hardest efforts, all the self-destructive behaviors that landed me in the hospital over twenty times. So, I may not be a doctor or a lawyer or professor, but I am a survivor and that is what counts to me. And, for those who are nurturing around me, that is what counts to them, too; I am still here.

I invite you to share in that opinion with me. If not, c'est la vie. We can go our separate ways with no hard feelings and no regrets. Any resentment toward the comments you made to me (while I was in the hospital after nearly killing myself last year) will be released through the therapeutic measures I have adopted recently.

Out of respect for your current position, I will not link our names. Who would want to be linked to a "failure" born from the past, right? Right.

You may contact me through e-mail, so I can gauge my response, though I do not expect it (I know you are busy). Until I heal somewhat (the words still sting, you see, because on some level I do care what you think) I think it is best that we not speak over the phone.

<3 <3

Time to change

2011-10-12T08:51:00.000-05:00

"My mama told me when I was hatched
Act like a superstar
Save your allowance, buy a bubble dress
And someday you will go far
Now on red carpets, well, I'm hard to miss
The press follows everywhere I go
I'll poke your eye out with a dress like this
Back off and enjoy the show!

I'm sure my critics will say it's a grotesque display
Well, they can bite me, baby -- I perform this way
I might be wearin' Swiss cheese or maybe covered with bees
It doesn't mean I'm crazy -- I perform this way

Ooo, my little monsters pay... lots 'cause I perform this way
Baby, I perform this way
Ooo, don't worry, I'm okay... hey, I just perform this way
I'm not crazy, I perform this way

I'll be a troll or evil queen
I'll be a human jelly bean
'Cause every day is Halloween
For me...

I'm so completely original
My new look is all the rage
I'll wrap my small intestines 'round my neck
And set fire to myself on stage
I'll wear a porcupine on my head
On a W-H-I-M
And for no reason now I'll sing in French
Excusez-moi, Qui a pété? (Who cut the cheese?)

Got my straight jacket today, it's made of gold lamé
No, not because I'm crazy - I perform this way
I strap prime rib to my feet, cover myself with raw meat
I'll bet you've never seen a skirt steak worn this way

Don't be offended when you see
My latest pop monstrosity
I'm strange, weird, shocking, odd, bizarre
I'm Frankenstein, I'm Avatar
There's nothing too embarrassing
I'll honestly do anything
But wear white after Labor Day
'Cause baby, I perform this way

Hope you won't think it's cliché if I go nude today
Don't call the cops now, baby, I perform this way
No reason I should regret all the attention I get
I'm not completely crazy, I perform this way, yeah

I perform this way-hey, I perform this way-hey
I'm always deviating from the norm this way-hey
I perform this way-hey, I perform this way-hey
I'm really not insane -- I just perform this way-hey"
- Weird Al Yankovic "Perform This Way" (parody of "Born This Way" by Lady Gaga)

Some amusing lyrics for a change. If you haven't seen the video, I highly recommend it. It is hilarious!

I have implemented a few changes since my last post, and they have all been good for me, so far. The first thing is that I have started practicing yoga on a daily basis. I used to dismiss yoga as a form of exercise, but not now. It has thoroughly whipped me on a couple of days. My muscles feel worked and stretched, but I am not exhausted after doing it. I feel calmer and more focused after practice. I am still working on my balance (it is terrible) and my flexibility in my back and both are improving. I have to make a commitment, difficult as that is for me, to practice every day if I can. I am using DVDs, unlike my experience with yoga at ACED with an instructor and a "class" of girls who could do full-body inversions on their heads and stand in a balance pose for several minutes without wobbling at all. It is much less intimidating to practice alone though it is troublesome that I do not have someone helping me with the form of my poses. Perhaps at some point down the road I will join a class once I move, but for now practicing at home has had wonderful rewards for me both physically and mentally.

I am also cutting back on the diet soda I drink and my sugar intake. The diet soda has not been so hard, but the sugar has been a challenge. I don't crave it the way I once did, say, alcohol, but it has been a part of my daily life for quite some time and it needs to stop. I have been asked a couple of times recently by different people about my eating habits. As much as I appreciate their concern, or their wanting me to be super-skinny again, I cannot begin to focus solely on food again. I cannot have my full attention drawn to that. If I do, I will plunge headfirst into anorexic behaviors again. I am seeking balance. This is a journey I must make alone, or at most with girls on the Something Fishy support forum. As long as I treat my body with respect, the right body ("Happy Weight" and all) will show up.

In this time of clarity, even as I have gained some weight back from my period of anorexic behaviors, I know that I am not fat. I am not at my ideal weight, but I am not fat. I am not unacceptable to society. I may be unacceptable to some of my image-focused (and small-minded) relatives, but I don't give a shit. Part of my new healthy outlook is to avoid negativity, and keep my mind free of negative thinking (and people). It is easy to avoid these things, and I find that my life is much fuller without them, not to mention much less stressful.

Basically, what you are seeing here, is my attempt at eating disorder rehabilitation. There is not a universe in which I would be able to afford actual treatment, so I must do it myself. My attitude toward food, eating and my body has not been normal since high school, when I first stuck my finger down my throat and did some of my first fasting. It is time to change all of that. I may pull out some of my old ACED materials and read through the small amount of wisdom that was offered to me there.

The most important aspect of this process is that I must begin to be true to myself, and listen to my heart and body as guidance for healthy decisions. I anticipate great rewards for my efforts. I am very hopeful.

Respecting myself

2011-09-29T09:19:00.000-05:00

"It doesn't matter if you love him, or capital H-I-M
Just put your paws up
'cause you were born this way, baby

My mama told me when I was young
We are all born superstars
She rolled my hair and put my lipstick on
In the glass of her boudoir

"There's nothing wrong with loving who you are"
She said, "'Cause he made you perfect, babe"
"So hold your head up girl and you'll go far,
Listen to me when I say"

I'm beautiful in my way
'Cause God makes no mistakes
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way
Don't hide yourself in regret
Just love yourself and you're set
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way

Oh there ain't no other way
Baby I was born this way
Baby I was born this way
Oh there ain't no other way
Baby I was born this way
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way

Don't be a drag ‒ just be a queen
Don't be!

Give yourself prudence
And love your friends
Subway kid, rejoice your truth
In the religion of the insecure
I must be myself, respect my youth

A different lover is not a sin
Believe capital H-I-M (Hey hey hey)
I love my life I love this record and
Mi amore vole fe yah (Love needs faith)

Don't be a drag, just be a queen
Whether you're broke or evergreen
You're black, white, beige, chola descent
You're Lebanese, you're orient
Whether life's disabilities
Left you outcast, bullied, or teased
Rejoice and love yourself today
'cause baby you were born this way

No matter gay, straight, or bi,
Lesbian, transgendered life,
I'm on the right track baby,
I was born to survive.
No matter black, white or beige
Chola or orient made,
I'm on the right track baby,
I was born to be brave.

I was born this way hey!
I was born this way hey!
I'm on the right track baby
I was born this way hey!
I was born this way hey!
I was born this way hey!
I'm on the right track baby
I was born this way hey!

Same DNA, but born this way.
Same DNA, but born this way."
- Lady Gaga "Born This Way"

I am grateful that I discovered this song yesterday. At first, because of the video, I didn't give it a chance because it was so bizarre. After listening to it alone, I loved it. I am grateful because after the fight with my mother yesterday, I was filled with my usual self-loathing. She had picked on my weight, naturally, because she loves the low blows that cripple me emotionally. After feeling like shit for most of the day, I found "Born This Way" and my feelings began to change.

I accepted and understood, not just heard, the message. I should not be ashamed of who I am, nor should I regret my past. I should respect myself and, yes, even love myself for who I am because I was born this way. Sure, it is not fortunate that I was born into a turbulent marriage, predisposed to mental illness and addiction, but should I be apologetic and embarrassed by any of these things? Should I hate my body covered with scars? No, I should not. It will take some time, but I will start trying to accept and love myself. I will start respecting my body, myself, and my life. I have taken so much for granted in the past, and it is time to change that.

This song empowers me. It gave me the thought that I can stand up to my mother, and to anyone else who criticizes my mistakes or feels disappointed in me. I will try my hardest to not lash out, but instead look within and draw from a wellspring of confidence that will give me the strength to stand tall and take it. I will be able to realize that I know better than any naysayer and disregard any negativity.

As someone who specializes in the pastime of self-loathing, this will be a journey. I am not deterred. I feel like it has been a long time coming. You can only take so much before you ultimately destroy yourself or survive the hate and emerge a new person.

No doubt the eating disorder is still an issue. Once I achieve my projected healthy weight, I will maintain it, and not keep obsessing. I know that I will always have to be vigilant about exercise and diet but I will try to incorporate it into a healthy lifestyle and not let it rule my life. I need to be the one in control, not Ronina, not my mother, no one.

Now, I may not be posting as frequently, but wish me luck. I am in for some exciting self-exploration and I am energized!

Coping Skills: My Alternatives to Self-Injury

2011-09-23T12:36:00.000-05:00

“There will always be something to ruin our lives, it all depends on what or which finds us first. We are always ripe and ready to be taken.” -Charles Bukowski

There have been so many emotions, so many situations in the past that have caused me to self-injure. Loss of a relationship, poor self-esteem, loneliness, and rage were just some of the things that led to my daily ritual of survival. I have such extreme emotional states, even with medication, and I cannot tolerate extreme mood swings and the places they take me. At a young age, I felt I had discovered a secret escape. The scars that linger all over my body show me now that I never escaped anything. I instead left permanent records etched into my skin. And, while I can't recall the history of every scar, I can sweep my eyes over any part of me and feel the shame and regret. The emotions and situations are long gone, but my previous inability to deal with life will always be there on my skin.

How did I go from my daily escapes of burning, cutting or bruising myself to my methods now? I basically had to something that I had never done before. I had to force myself to see the pain I was causing others. Sure, I was surviving in my own way, but at what cost? I risked deadly infections, caused scars that will never heal, and hurt the ones who love me most, such as my boyfriend. Recognizing the fact that I was hurting others and driving some away with my bandages and open wounds was very painful. My reflex was to reach for a lighter or a razor. But I turned away.

For me, self-injury was venting the power of my emotions in way that didn't harm anyone else. I have seen enough violence toward others to make the thought turn my stomach. And while I have been able to handle the more depressive emotions without any tools, I had to build up a tolerance, and it was hard, but it is anger that still causes me trouble.

When I get angry, like during a combative argument with low blows on both sides (which happens all the time with one person, a close relative) I feel frenzied. I feel like I could hurt something. And, as with my very first time, I want to take it out on me (because it is all my fault). So, just as I did this morning, I took the following steps:

Beat the shit out of my punching bag. I kick it, too. I imagine the problem or person as being at the strike zone of the bag, and give it a good bruising. I do this until I am exhausted, and want to collapse. This way, I have released the energy behind the emotions, so they are deposed from their places of power in my mind and become merely emotions again.
I cried, long and hard. I let my frustration and powerlessness seep out of me through tears. That may seem pathetic, but it is soothing.
I took a cold shower and it finished calming me down by literally cooling me off. Feeling clean after SI was part of the experience with rubbing alcohol and Bactine. So, I replicate that feeling with a shower.

In the hospital I have been offered several methods to bypass self-injury by nurses and doctors. One tip was that when you feel like self-injuring, fill a bowl with ice and thrust your hand in and hold it there until you can't take it anymore. Another suggestion is to keep a few rubber bands around your wrists and snap them hard when the urge to SI occurs. I tried this one, and ended up with blood blisters, so be careful. The final suggestion was to take a washable red marker and slash at your arms with it, so it looks like blood. I tried this too, and found it to be the worst suggestion, but I thought I would mention it here anyways. The blood flowing and dripping was part of cutting for me, so the red marker looked stupid to me.

This post may not help a single person, but I thought I would write it anyway. I have been free of self-injury for a long time now, and this is how I hold it together.

Happy Weight

2011-09-20T11:40:00.001-05:00

"The word fat assumed a meaning as deadly as cancer. Getting fat was worse than losing your job, worse than being jilted at the altar, worse than living in a trailer park and growing up without shoes. You need to start watching yourself, my Mom said, before it´s too late."

"People don´t see me. No one sees me. It´s like being fat. No one takes you seriously. You just don´t exist-you´re so big, you´re not even there."

-quotes from patients with anorexia, on livereal.com

A lot of things have been changing for me the past several weeks. The first steps toward having a home with my boyfriend are being taken. I have started saving for new purchases of things for a kitchen, proper linens, etc. Looking through catalogs, pricing things, figuring out the differences between "needs" and "wants" are really awesome ways for me to start taking control of my life in a different way, and are ways for me to *gasp* feel like an adult for the first time. Bryan and I are surprisingly in accord about what we are looking for in a house. Of course, I have to admit that I am slightly disappointed that we are not engaged or married as we take this step together, but I have to accept that not everything will happen the way that I want it to. I have seen my share of unhappy marriages, and also happy ones. I don't want to rush him into anything since the pressure could cause him to resent me later. So for now I will focus on the awesome fact that he wants to have a home with me, and I will soon have part of my long-held dream.

I am still self-injury free and 100% sober. And, I would like to add, I am deliriously proud of myself for those accomplishments.

Now for the weight issue. As I have been floating through life the past couple months, my grip on my diet has slipped and I have gained weight (also, one of my medications increases appetite and weight gain). I feel disgusting. I feel ashamed. I don't want others to see me. I have been hiding from family and friends out of this feeling of disgrace. I look in the mirror and feel like I don't recognize myself. And the scale, the fucking, goddamned scale, doesn't lie. So, what to do? I am being so healthy and balanced in other areas of my life. But all I know to do is to resume my diet, and get back down to a weight I can tolerate. I did a test on one weight loss site to determine what it called my "Happy Weight" and it gave a range of six pounds, depending on whether my frame is medium or large. While the weights listed were "healthy" they were much higher than my original goal. However, I have to accept what is "healthy" and try to not stress myself over what I *think* I should weigh.

Is it irony that I intend to reach this ideal weight, a healthy weight, in an unhealthy way? My plan is to, starting tomorrow, begin "detoxing" myself from my current way of eating, and resume a carefully controlled, very low calorie diet with light exercise. It will be hell. I dimly recall the hunger pains, the exhaustion, the chilly feeling I couldn't shake. I remember hunger waking me in the night. But I also remember the glow of wearing new, smaller clothes. And I especially remember all the compliments, such as "Oh my gosh, you are so skinny!" among others.

I wish I could say that I desire to do things in a normal way, but I don't. Frankly, I don't understand sensible eating, sensible exercise and sensible goals. All I know is where I am, where I want to be and how I have almost gotten there in the past. My obsession with food, weight and diets is the one thing that is holding me back from a mostly sane life. And while I regret how it effects my life and the lives of those around me, I can't see a way out. Once I reach my goal, which is healthy, then I will seek the advice of a nutritionist and a doctor on how to maintain that weight.

As much as I hate my appearance, and as much as I call myself "fat" I have to ignore the mirror and my inner critic and realize that I am not fat. I compare myself to people, especially at Wal-Mart, and realize that I am just not at my ideal weight, but not fat. Ha, even as I write that something inside of me "shouted" disapproval.

This is going to be really, really hard.

"Do it and do it again"

2011-08-23T08:25:00.000-05:00

"Rape me
Rape me, my friend
Rape me
Rape me again

i m not the only one
i m not the only one...

Hate me
Do it and do it again
Waste me
Rape me, my friend

i m not the only one
i m not the only one...

My favorite inside source
I'll kiss your open sores
I appreciate your concern
You'll always stink and burn

Rape me
Rape me, my friend
Rape me
Rape me, again

i m not the only one
i m not the only one..

Rape me!
Rape me!"
-Nirvana "Rape Me"

I have a lot of conflict going on in my life right now. It is entirely family issues, with one particular family member at the center of it all. I have been trying to diffuse the situation, but it is not working. My natural inclination is to take out all the frustration on myself, one way or another. However, cutting, despite its tantalizing effects, is not an option. If I did that, I could be tossed in the hospital against my will.

I have made a semi-healthy decision. To deal with my anger and lack of control over the situation, I am focusing on my body, much more so than I have been in the past few weeks. I have used my punching bag a few times now and find so much release in it. I have a strong imaginary world that lets me lose myself in the carefully controlled venting. I have also started lifting weights. Not heavy weights, don't want to be bulky, but just enough to eventually provide tone and definition. I will have to have patience with this new part of my regimen, as results are not immediate.

The other thing is the eating. I have been eating "normally" and it shows. I feel disgusting. My task now is to train my body back down to the small amount I was eating before my period of stability began. More protein, more fruit, but less, less, less of everything. That may not make much sense in writing, but I know my plan and I know it can get me the results I desire.

After all, if I can't have control and stability in my outer world then I will create it inside of me, as always. Control. Power. Beauty. Revenge. All so intoxicating, captivating. I could get lost in here. I feel the world slipping away.

But I'm okay. I'm okay. I am sure that I am. I swear I am.

Just anger

2011-08-17T08:50:00.001-05:00

"The kombucha mushroom people,
Sitting around all day,
Who can believe you,
Who can believe you,
Let your mother pray, (sugar)

Well I'm not there all the time you know
Some people, some people, some people,
Call it insane, yeah they call it insane, (sugar)
I play Russian roulette every day, a man's sport,
With a bullet called life, yeah mama called life,(sugar)
You know that every time I try to go
Where I really want to be,
It's already where I am,
Cause I'm already there!(sugar)

I got a gun the other day from Sako,
It's cute, small, fits right in my pocket,
Yeah, right in my pocket, (sugar)
My girl, you know, she lashes out at me sometimes,
And I just fucking kick her, and Ooo Baby, she's O.K. (sugar)
People are always chasing me down,
Trying to push my face to the ground,
Where all they really want to do,
Is suck out my mother fucking brains, my brains (sugar).

I sit, in my desolate room, no lights, no music,
Just anger,
I've killed everyone,
I'm away forever,
but I'm feeling better,
How do I feel, What do I say,
Fuck you, it all goes away,
How do I feel, What do I say,
Fuck you, it all goes away,
How do I feel, What do I say,
In the end it all goes away,
How do I feel, What do I say,
In the end it all goes away,
In the end it all goes away,
In the end it all goes away,"
-System of a Down "Sugar"

Lately, my main problem has been extreme emotional swings, but primarily in the area of rage. Most people have levels of anger, like frustration, irritation, etc. I go from baseline to enraged at the slightest provocation. However, true to my style, the anger doesn't show itself externally. I hold it in and let it diffuse within me like I am some kind of bomb-proof safe. Also, my anxiety has been a huge problem. I have a crippling phobia of choking (there is a story to that, but I don't want to talk about it) and lately I have not been able to eat without something to drink immediately available. My throat closes up, my heart rate spikes, and I panic. I explained all of this to my psychiatrist yesterday, and all she wants to do is check my lithium levels. No increase in my anxiety medication. To be clear, I have never abused my anxiety medication. During hospitalizations, I have watched people detoxing from anxiety medication addiction almost die from seizures and such. Even in light of the the things I have witnessed, I know that it is in my best interest to not abuse something that helps me. Naturally, my doctor passing over my anxiety like it was nothing made me furious. I wanted to punch my fist through a wall. I wanted to destroy something. Laugh in delight while watching the world burn. That is how it has been lately. I want to fucking break something.

I have plans to try to curb the anger. To start with, I am unpacking my boxing gloves and tapes and will beat up my punching bag for ten minutes each day. Also, I am going to try to vent my anger through drawing, listening to aggressive music, and possibly start a new journal. However, if I put some of my thoughts to paper, I worry that someone will find it and read it and think that I am a raving lunatic.

And don't let these healthy plans deceive. I have frequently held a blade to my arm or pondered the smoldering end of a cigarette, only to turn away from it. I can't go back to self-injury to soothe my anger. Even if I direct the anger at myself, it is still destructive to others. It would be so tempting to really give in to the desire to destroy, but I just can't. I wish I could say that I am happy that I have not given in and harmed myself, but I am not. I deserve it. I don't deserve to be balanced or happy. I deserve the stigma.

I guess I will just have to see how things go the next week or so. Hopefully, I can do something about this before it all gets out of hand.

The good are often alone

2011-08-11T08:21:00.000-05:00

"Here comes the sun in the form of a girl
She's the finest, sweetest thing in the world
Uh-huh, take you to heaven tonight
I feel the horses, coming, galloping, in the summer rain,
Take you to heaven tonight, uh-huh,
'Cause I love you, for what you are,
I'll gallop to you, tonight, tonight, we'll ride,
I'll give in to you, we're going to heaven tonight
Out on the winding road, I couldn't wait, Oh baby I was afraid, headed for heaven tonight,
Uh-huh, I'll go to heaven tonight,
I feel the horses, coming, galloping,
I will never grow old, I'll go to heaven tonight,
Uh-huh, because I love you for what you are,
I'll gallop to you, tonight, tonight we'll ride,
I'll bow down to you,
We'll go to heaven tonight,

I can't believe that I can be happy,
Summer will come again,
I can be happy,
Oh, stop your crying, you can be happy,
Go to heaven when you make me happy

Here comes the kiss that I never had,
Nothing feels like this, headed for heaven tonight,
Uh-huh, uh-huh, I love you,
Here comes a storm in the form of a girl,
She's the finest, sweetest thing in the world,
I'll go to heaven tonight for what you are,
I'll gallop to you, tonight, tonight, we'll ride,
I'll bow down to you, we'll go to heaven tonight,
tonight,
take it tonight, take it tonight, take me tonight"
-Hole "Heaven Tonight"

I feel off somehow. I don't believe I am manic, but my moods are cycling rapidly. I can be full of energy and getting things done, and then be a huddled, depressed lump on the bed shortly after. Trying to "function" is hard to accomplish with my mind constantly fucking with me. Despite my frame of mind, I am taking care of myself and getting some things done. I have to keep up a constant to-do list so I can stay on track. I get distracted easily. It is really a shame that I can't responsibly take ADHD medication (with the bonus appetite suppressant effects) because I do actually need it.

I am trying to not think about food and my body too much. It is so hard, though. I have to avert my eyes from mirrors. I have to avoid the magnetic pull of the scale in the bathroom. Assigning my focus to something else is really challenging. I don't know how other people don't obsess about their bodies and food and weight. I don't understand how normal people function. I will eventually have to learn, but for now I am puzzled.

But really, in all honesty, I think the diet is just paused for the moment because of my state of mind. Until I get back on track mentally, I can't put attention towards dieting and working out. I have to keep track of medications and vitamins, caring for my three animals and caring for myself, so I don't wind up in the hospital. My eating disorder has gone underground before, for periods of time, only to resurface at a later time. Maybe that is what is happening now. I hope so.

I still hold the opinion that I will die young.

If you pick at it, it'll never heal

2011-08-04T08:25:00.001-05:00

"Lifedance"

by Charles Bukowski

"the area dividing the brain and the soul
is affected in many ways by
experience –
some lose all mind and become soul:
insane.
some lose all soul and become mind:
intellectual.
some lose both and become:
accepted."

-------------------

"I will never bother you
I will never promise to
I will never follow you
I will never bother you

Never speak a word again
I will crawl away for good

I will move away from here
You won't be afraid of fear
No thought was put in to this
I always knew it would come to this
Things have never been so swell
I have never failed to fail

Pain
You know you're right

I'm so warm and calm inside
I no longer have to hide
Let's talk about someone else
Steaming soup against her mouth
Nothing really bothers her
She just wants to love herself

I will move away from here
You won't be afraid of fear
No thought was put into this
I always knew to come like this

Things have never been so swell
I have never failed to fail

Pain
You know you're right

Pain"

-Nirvana "You Know You're Right"

So, the past week or so, I have been having violent thoughts. For example, as I was drying my hair yesterday, I glanced at my arms and wistfully thought of how grand it would be to just go crazy and slash away at them. I imagined the purifying loss of blood, the sting of the injuries, and the comfort of cleaning and bandaging the cuts. One would be quite justified at being alarmed at this, but it was just a fleeting thought, like how someone would consider making a cup of tea or something. However, in my world, I consider rash, dangerous behavior without considering it to be dangerous or improper, those behaviors being "my cup of tea." Despite the thoughts and their seductive powers, I have resisted. Not for any particular reason, mind you. I just have not extracted the razors from the cartridges and done it. I don't know why. Probably a similar reason to why I haven't had a drink in almost a year and a half, but I don't know.

I am currently having difficulty with my weight loss. I haven't vomited this week which is good, I suppose. But without the vomiting, every bad choice I make stays with me. I am losing my grip on myself. I have to have ana behaviors or I feel fat. I haven't gone near the scale in days out of a crippling fear for what numbers will flash up. Something will trigger me, and I will collapse. I will run back to the ana lifestyle for comfort and peace. Today, my goal is about four hundred calories, but we'll see how long my resolve lasts. I haven't been able to last through the hunger lately. I don't know what is wrong with me. It is so hard. So much energy has to be devoted to something that, on the surface, seems like it should be effortless. But I have to start starving again. I feel like I have gained weight. And that makes me feel so terrible... I can't began to explain it. I feel like I have to hide my body. I feel ashamed. I feel worthless. Without feeling that elusive sense of control, I feel like I should just disappear. But I know what the cost will be to get back to where I am sort of content. It requires a great deal of mental and emotional energy to pass through the hunger. And I know what it will do to those around me. Frustration and irritation and concern. I don't look forward to it. It is all so exhausting.

I'm so tired.

Hello, I've waited here for you

2011-07-28T08:00:00.000-05:00

"Hello
I've waited here for you
Everlong

Tonight
I've thrown myself into
And out of the red, out of her head, she sang

Come down
And waste away with me
Down with me

Slow, how
You wanted it to be
I'm over my head, out of her head, she sang

And I wonder
When I sing along with you
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I'll ever ask of you
Got to promise not to stop when I say when
She sang

Breathe out
So I can breathe you in
Hold you in

And now
I know you've always been
Out of your head, out of my head, I sang

And I wonder
When I sing along with you
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I'll ever ask of you
Got to promise not to stop when I say when
She sang

And I wonder
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I'll ever ask of you
Got to promise not to stop when I say when"
-Foo Fighters "Everlong"

My latest project is (ironically) cutting out all the recipes from the various magazines I have amassed and organizing them. My goal is to have a large collection to start my new life with B when we move in together. "Everlong" is a love song, and it is a song I have been fixated on for while. And I am so in love, but I have not lost my identity to the relationship like I have with others in the past. I take this as a sign that I have grown out of one of the least attractive qualities of Borderline Personality Disorder. We communicate well, and I am trying to be aware of his needs. Being mentally ill can make one very self-centered.

The relationship I have the most trouble with, not surprisingly, is the one with my mother. It is constantly polarized in one direction or another. She loves to argue. I am a naturally aggressive person, though historically I explode internally and on my skin. But with my tendencies toward aggression, and the fact that I was raised, from childhood to adolescence (and beyond) in an environment of deceit, rage, and cruelty, I cannot help falling into the traps she lays down to trigger a fight. In realizing what was happening, and what the pattern has been in the past, I have begun to look for these triggers, and will stop a conversation that is heading in the wrong direction. I will simply walk away. I think that my recent "strategy" is infuriating to her, but I cannot help that. I have to look out for my sanity and well-being. And being in a black or white situation with her is not healthy.

As for my diet, things have gone well this week. I am losing some of the tonnage (okay, a few pounds) I put on recently, and feel more in control again. Now that I have regained control, I need to hang on tight and not let go. There are so many things going well in my life right now, and while the diet could be counted as negative, I see it as another positive thing. I feel better when I am in control of my body, my exercise, and my food. I still hate to exercise, and still dread the hunger, but there are so many benefits. The dieting lifestyle that I have created for myself is so seductive in its promises. I don't expect to gain beauty from it because you are either born with that or not. I do expect a body that is acceptable to society and, someday, to me. Fat is not acceptable but thin very much is.

Things are going so well that I am starting to banish the thought that I wish I had checked out during one of my near-fatal overdoses. In spite of all that I have going for me, I still sometimes wish I had died. I recall one time, very faintly as I was close to unconsciousness, when I was being loaded into the ambulance and I kept saying, "Just let me go. Just let me go."

I am glad they didn't let me go, sort of. Someday I will appreciate it fully, I hope.

Written by Ronina

2011-07-22T09:00:00.001-05:00

"Sometimes we wake not knowing

how we came to lie here,
or who has crowned us with these temporary,
precious stones. And given

the world’s perfectly turned shoulders,
the deep hollows blued by longing,
given the irreplaceable silk

of horses rippling in orchards,
fruit thundering and chiming down,
given the ordinary marvels of form

and gravity, what could he do,
what could any of us ever do
but ask for it."
- excerpt from Mark Doty's "Tiara"

At the end of this entry is the whole poem. It is beautiful, skillfully crafted, and makes me cry. This entry is from the part of me that I call "Ronina". Not a separate personality, just a part of my fractured psyche. I find it easy to see through her eyes and objectify myself.

You feel so full. So full and so tired. This has been a long war, with the losses marked on your skin and on the scale, the numbers fluctuating so often that it drives you insane. There are so many battles fought on a daily basis. The part of you that guiltily wants you to eat to excess and then vomit warring with the part that wants the delicacy of a doll. The part of you that wants perfection and some level of normalcy campaigning against your innermost desire of total destruction. You can't have both total annihilation and a "normal" life, and I laugh in the face of your quandary. I am not even sure if you have the ultimate power of choice anymore. I don't think you have the control that you seek. You can't control yourself. You do have exceptional willpower, but that is not control. Willpower is merely a muzzle placed on the black dog of war.

You didn't ask for any of this. But none of it just "happened" to you, like some hapless victim. Somewhere between being the victim and being the instigator is where you are. If it were up to me alone, I would let you rot in this unstable purgatory because it is what you deserve, or I would actively support your end. But it has never been up to me alone. You are still strong. But you aren't strong enough to call a truce within yourself. More and more you have marginalized me, but that doesn't make me disappear. I think I will be around for a long time. And, despite what others think, self-injury is not as bad as it seems. But you can't make peace with harming yourself anymore.

While it is not a direct alternative to SI, you moved on to altering your body by means of extreme dieting, purging, exercising, etc. While I think that it is worthwhile (after all, thin people are more acceptable, aren't they?) your deep-seated 11-year experience with bulimia has made it hard for you to control what goes in your mouth. And I am right there with the hunger, while it eats away at your willpower, hurling insults at you when you collapse under its weight. Of late, you have become increasingly less reliable when it comes to the weight loss thing. I am horrified and disgusted, and I know you are too. What are we going to do about this?

You must begin to change your attitude about food and weight. Eating means you have to redeem yourself by working out. How else can you forgive yourself for the calories? The fat? You look in the mirror and cry. You step on the scale and cry. You put on a certain shirt or pair of pants and cry. There is a way to stop the tears. The solution is clear. It is up to you to make the changes. You must be rigid, unyielding to social pressures, dismissive of hunger. I have not seen enough dedication from you. And I know you are tired, but, being the character I am, I cannot forgive such frailty.

I know that you won't, but don't forget that I will be in the background, observing what you do and always judging. Don't keep fucking up. You won't be able to live with yourself if you do.

-Ronina

Tiara
By Mark Doty

Peter died in a paper tiara
cut from a book of princess paper dolls;
he loved royalty, sashes

and jewels. I don’t know,
he said, when he woke in the hospice,
I was watching the Bette Davis film festival

on Channel 57 and then—
At the wake, the tension broke
when someone guessed

the casket closed because
he was in there in a big wig
and heels, and someone said,

You know he’s always late,
he probably isn’t here yet—
he’s still fixing his makeup.

And someone said he asked for it.
Asked for it—
when all he did was go down

into the salt tide
of wanting as much as he wanted,
giving himself over so drunk

or stoned it almost didn’t matter who,
though they were beautiful,
stampeding into him in the simple,

ravishing music of their hurry.
I think heaven is perfect stasis
poised over the realms of desire,

where dreaming and waking men lie
on the grass while wet horses
roam among them, huge fragments

of the music we die into
in the body’s paradise.
Sometimes we wake not knowing

how we came to lie here,
or who has crowned us with these temporary,
precious stones. And given

the world’s perfectly turned shoulders,
the deep hollows blued by longing,
given the irreplaceable silk

of horses rippling in orchards,
fruit thundering and chiming down,
given the ordinary marvels of form

and gravity, what could he do,
what could any of us ever do
but ask for it.

They think I'm crazy

2011-07-21T08:48:00.000-05:00

"I don't know who you are
But you seem very nice
So will you talk to me
Shall I tell you a story
Shall I tell you a dream
They think I'm crazy
But they don't know that I like it here
It's nice in here, I get everything for free

Have you been here before
Shall I show you around
It's very pretty
Have you come here to stay
Well, you sure picked a day
My name is Billy
It's my birthday, you're invited to my party down the hall

Where I go, what I'll become or who I am or what I'll be
I'll never know, but I am sure that I'll get everything for free

I'm not troubled or sad
I'm just ready for bed
It's been a long day
Before they switch off the lights
It truly was a delight
They think I'm crazy
But they don't know that I like it here
It's nice in here

Where I go, what I'll become or who I am or what I'll be
I'll never know, but I am sure that I'll get everything for free

Where I go, what I'll become or who I am or what I'll be
I'll never know, but I am sure that I'll get everything for free
Everything for free

I don't know who you are
But you seem very nice
So will you talk to me
Have you been here before
Well, you sure picked a day
They think I'm crazy"
-K's Choice "Everything for Free"

I have been under a lot of stress lately. In direct response to this, I have been trying to suppress my need to diet, and have been paying more careful attention to my body's needs. Failing in the diet causes me a great deal of distress. I can't fall apart, and I am trying very hard to avoid another hospital stay, and I am doing a good job. The thing is, I know that what is wrong with me is not chemical. My meds are fine, and the hospital would just prevent me from being self-destructive. All my problems are situational. I am pleased that I can recognize this, and not go running to the doctor for more pills to solve my problems.

One problem has emerged since I stopped trying so hard on the diet thing, and that is the reemergence of my desire to self-injure. I know the razor cartridges in my bathroom closet will cut and make me bleed, and I know the cigarettes and lighters will burn and leave painful blisters. I also know the relief they provide. Soothing, calming, luring me into a safe place that is in fact not safe. Like an addict seeking the cocoon of comfort that the high brings them, I yearn for the same feeling, but just pursue it in a different way. Oddly enough, with alcohol so easy to obtain, I have not had the inclination to drink at all.

The only way to squash the need for self-injury is to return to the diet and start watching the numbers on the scale go down again. My weight has not changed in a while, and I have tried to not deepen my self-hatred over this fact. But dieting is so hard. Constantly on edge about every morsel, every gram of fat, every calorie burned. Gritting my teeth when my stomach hurts or the hunger becomes so hard to ignore. It is hell. But I would rather return to that hell than to the deception and agony of self-injury. Being on a diet and losing weight, I have observed, is more acceptable than bandaged limbs. Maybe someday I will no longer be in a place where I am choosing between two evils. Someday.

I'm not gonna crack

2011-07-14T15:15:00.001-05:00

"I'm so happy 'cause today
I've found my friends, they're in my head
I'm so ugly, that's OK
'Cause so are you, broke our mirrors
Sunday mornin' is every day
For all I care and I'm not scared
Light my candles in a daze
'Cause I've found God

Yeah!
Yeah!
Yeah!

I'm so lonely, that's OK
I shaved my head and I'm not sad
And just maybe I'm to blame
For all I've heard but I'm not sure
I'm so excited, I can't wait
To meet you there and I don't care
I'm so horny, that's OK
My will is good

Yeah!
Yeah!
Yeah!

I like it, I'm not gonna crack
I miss you, I'm not gonna crack
I love you, I'm not gonna crack
I kill you, I'm not gonna crack
I like it, I'm not gonna crack
I miss you, I'm not gonna crack
I love you, I'm not gonna crack
I kill you, I'm not gonna
Crack

I'm so happy 'cause today
I've found my friends, they're in my head
I'm so ugly, that's OK
'Cause so are you, broke our mirrors
Sunday mornin' is every day
For all I care and I'm not scared
Light my candles in a daze
'Cause I've found God

Yeah!
Yeah!
Yeah!

I like it, I'm not gonna crack
I miss you, I'm not gonna crack
I love you, I'm not gonna crack
I kill you, I'm not gonna crack
I like it, I'm not gonna crack
I miss you, I'm not gonna crack
I love you, I'm not gonna crack
I kill you, I'm not gonna
Crack "
-Nirvana "Lithium"

I am not sure how I am doing. In some ways, my life is going well, and in other ways, I feel like an utter failure.

For one thing, I have not lost much weight in a little while. I am so tired all the time, but still feel like I need to be doing something as much as I can. Trying to focus on the weight loss is difficult because of this buzzing, distracting feeling in my head. I have been reading a lot, and sketching ideas for my photo project. But this weight loss thing... my identity is so wrapped up in it that by ignoring or not paying attention to it I feel like I am ignoring the whole of my being. As a result, I feel very detached and disconnected. I know that these feelings will pass, but it is still disconcerting to pass a day feeling like this.

I have not previously mentioned what I am about to discuss, out of the fear that I will seem even more bizarre than I already am, but here it goes. I was reminded by an article on "Cracked" of the movie Monster, which is about the female serial killer Aileen Wuornos. I pulled up the Wikipedia article on her and was horrified to read that she had been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (she was also diagnosed as a delusional psychopath, and was unintelligent). BPD is sometimes viewed as the female version of Antisocial Personality Disorder, which is highly prevalent in male serial killers. According to one peer-reviewed article I read, a study of murderers and violent offenders revealed high occurrences of both these personality disorders. For a while, I read everything I could find on a multitude of serial killers, trying to see if something else, besides the BPD, would link me to such terrifying, though admittedly fascinating, creatures.

I mean, discovering this fact has as much relevance as pointing out that Kurt Cobain was bipolar and since he shot some heroin and then shot himself, that is what will occur with me since I am bipolar. The thing that bothered me was that I have a marked lack of empathy, which is a noted quality of borderlines in the proposed amendments for the DSM-V. It is also an essential quality of the killers I read about. So I freaked a little. Then I read more, and it dawned on me that "serial killer-ism" is not a disease that I am going to catch or whatever. For instance, unlike some killers, e.g John Wayne Gacy, I don't find the idea of violence sexually appealing. Seeing one woman get thrown through a glass table, another get her head slammed into unconsciousness against the kitchen cabinets, and to have personally received sexual and physical abuse, all makes violence very un-sexy to me. Hell, I cry at those ASPCA commercials. I'm a pussy in many respects. But after the life I have had, it would be easy to see me as hardened or desensitized.

I don't feel the need to list off any more of the neurotic comparisons I have worked through in my head. Safe to say, I no longer feel like I am a "danger". *laughs* And I never was, but my natural assumption is that I must be the worst, so seeing something as small as a similar diagnosis turns me, in my mind, into a monster.

Have I ever mentioned before that it is not fun to be in my head? Heh, well, I guess this post is one example of why.

What's in your head?

2011-07-07T09:00:00.001-05:00

"Another head hangs lowly,
Child is slowly taken.
And the violence caused such silence,
Who are we mistaken?

But you see, it's not me, it's not my family.
In your head, in your head they are fighting,
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are crying...

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?

Another mother's breakin',
Heart is taking over.
When the vi'lence causes silence,
We must be mistaken.

It's the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen.
In your head, in your head they're still fighting,
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are dying...

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?"
-The Cranberries "Zombie"

I have been more on the bulimia side of things lately, eating and working out to make up for it, and have gained weight. I am furious with myself, and also am kind of desperate. I wish I could turn off the part of my brain that signals hunger. I wish I could take ADHD medicine again to suppress the hunger. I am as desperate as someone who has woken up in their own coffin, very much alive, and is trying to claw their way out in vain. I feel this desperate every time I look in the mirror or step on the scale. I cry, for no reason really. What is there to cry over? No one else sees the problem the way I do, so I get no sympathy, but I do get increasingly impatient responses. I have to come up with a new plan. So, I am going to try out a scenario where I work out half as much as I have been and return to my old eating habits. This will eliminate about 350 calories from my diet, and hopefully eliminate being so goddamn hungry from all the exercise. I will still be working out some to prevent my muscles from shrinking and looking flabby, as I learned through my reading that they will not "turn into fat".

On the mental health side of things, I am not sure of where I am. It seems like I am well-balanced, neither depressed or manic. Not suicidal, cutting or drinking, so that's good. But I have this sense, like seeing storm clouds in the southern sky, that something bad will happen. It is not that things have been so awesome that a bad turn is coming my way. There have been a lot of stressful events and expectations for me lately, and I fall apart under pressure. When I was younger, I thrived on last-minute deadlines and such, but now stress chips away at me. And I can't deal with stress from people around me on top of my own stress. I crack. I just have to be careful, ever so careful, that I don't overextend myself, and make enough time to recover from interacting with people, so I don't fall apart and do some crazy, self-destructive, and impulsive act that lands me in the hospital or on everyone's shit list (or both).

I wish I could say that life is good, that things have settled down, but I have to remember that I am ill, and being ill makes it hard for life to be good, any outside situations set aside.

But enough whining. I have to go workout.

"Won't you listen to me?"

2011-06-27T14:50:00.000-05:00

"You told me, I've seen it rise
But it always falls
I've see him come, I've seen him go
He said, "All things pass into the night"
And I said, "Oh no sir, I must say you're wrong
I must disagree, oh no sir, I must say you're wrong
Won't you listen to me?"

You told me, "I've seen it all before
I've been there, I've seen my hopes and dreams
A-lying on the ground
I've seen the sky just begin to fall"
He said, "All things pass into the night"
And I said, "Oh no sir, I must say you're wrong
I must disagree, oh no sir, I must say you're wrong
Won't you listen to me?"

Goodbye horses, I'm flying over you
Goodbye horses, I'm flying over you
Goodbye horses, I'm flying over you
Goodbye horses, I'm flying, flying, flying over you..."
-Q Lazzarus "Goodbye Horses"

I am having a lot of problems at the moment, most of them are internal. However, the most important thing, the weight loss, is at a standstill. I have been busting my ass almost every day doing cardio and have seen almost no reflection on the scale. I was losing more by eating my tiny meal and doing next to nothing during the day. And I am thinking about going back to that. It was easier than this working out shit and I wasn't nearly as hungry all the time. But I worry that the muscle I have built up will turn into fat if I don't keep using it. I will have to read more about that to see if my worries have any basis in fact. Then I will have make a decision. I could just work out less, eat less, and perhaps get the numbers spiraling downward again. This is so hard.

There are a couple occasions coming up that I must be social in totally unfamiliar surroundings, and I am very stressed. I worry that people will think I am "big" or "heavy". I hate this mindfuck I give myself before being social in any situation. I wish I could stop it, but it is too much a part of my programming.

And I would like to talk more about what is going on with me, as each of the relationships in my life have problems right now, but I can't speak freely here, or in my life. Honesty, as I have learned, earns me fights, sighs, silence, distance, etc. So, why be honest about what I am feeling and thinking when I can just stuff it all in, and hang on to it? After all, I have no history of imploding, destroying my body or anything like that. I can handle it. For now, anyways.

Indulgences

2011-06-21T13:50:00.001-05:00

"I'm cold, I'm ugly
I'm always confused by everything
I can stare into a thousand eyes
But every smile hides a bold-faced lie

It itches, it seethes, it festers and breathes
My heros are dead, they died in my head
Thin out the herd, squeeze out the pain
Something inside me has opened up again

Thoughts of me exemplified
All the little flaws I have denied
Forget today, forget whatever happened
Everyday I see a little more of overall deficiencies
I'm nothing short of being one complete catastrophe

What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?
What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?

I save all the bullets from ignorant minds
Your insults get stuck in my teeth as they grind
Way past good taste, on our way to bad omens
I decrease, while my symptoms increase

God what the fuck is wrong
You act like you knew it all along
Your timing sucks, your silence is a blessing

All I ever wanted out of you was
something you could never be
Now take a real good look at
What you've fucking done to me

What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?
What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?

Gimme any reason why I'd need you, boy
Gimme any reason why I'd need you
Gimme any reason why I'd need you
Gimme any reason not to fuck you up
Gimme any reason why I'd need you, bitch
Gimme any reason why I'd need you
Gimme any reason why I'd need you
Gimme any reason not to fuck you up

I see you in me
I see you in me
I see you in me
I see you in me
I see you in me
I see you in me
I see you in me
I see you in me

I keep my scars from prying eyes
Incapable of ever knowing why
Somebody breathe, I've got to have an answer
Why am I so fascinated by
bigger pictures, better things
But I don't care what you think
You'll never understand me

What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?
What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?
What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?
What the hell - did I - do to deserve - all of this?

FUCK!!!"
-Slipknot "Diluted"

LOVE those lyrics! Slipknot rules! Anyways...

So, what has been going on... I have been in a constant battle of hunger. And always losing. I am managing to keep up with my exercise regimen, mostly with success. There have been days when I am just like, fuck it, but mostly I am staying true to my five miles a day plan. The problem is my body and its need for food. While I know that I need to eat slightly more to sustain myself after these workouts, I do not need to be eating the way I have been eating the past week or so. My new plan is to eat my planned meal in the morning and then a protein bar in the afternoon. I'll see how that goes and if my weight starts going down again.

I am desperate to get out of this plateau and back to losing pounds upon pounds again. After all, this is what I am living for, and if I keep failing it will discourage me. There are so many things going wrong in my life right now that I have to get this one thing right.

As for my mental illness, the medication I am on seems to be doing a good job. I am on less now than I have been on in years. And I am functioning on a higher level now than I have in a long time. I am able to focus, get things done, be social, etc. Planning on getting back into therapy soon and prying into the dark, horrifying experiences starting from childhood to adulthood. Why am I starting with childhood? Well, in my thorough readings on Borderline Personality Disorder, I read that a specific set of circumstances can lead to the disorder developing. I want to analyze my past, dredge up memories I have forgotten (or blocked, possibly) and get to "the answer". I am not looking for excuses and psychological reasons to blame people for the shit that went down. I just want to understand as thoroughly as possible why I am the way I am. Why did I experience so many horrors? The part of me that stood by and did nothing during physical abuse and rape feeds me the idea that I deserved those horrors and deserve more in the future. Building self-esteem for me is not going to be a frolic of "Oh, Erika, look how awesome you really are! You matter just because you are you!" Building self-esteem will be going to the deepest levels of my psyche and reprogramming something that has assisted with so much self-destructive behavior that it is a genuine miracle that I am alive.

"What else should I be
All apologies
What else should I say
Everyone is gay
What else could I write
I don't have the right
What else should I be
All apologies"

Till I can get my satisfaction

2011-06-14T11:55:00.000-05:00

"Push me, and then just touch me
Till I can get my satisfaction
Push me, and then just hurt me
Till I can get my satisfaction.
Satisfaction.
Satisfaction.
Satisfaction."
-Benny Benassi "Satisfaction"

I have been struggling the past week. Through increasing my exercise, I have become ravenously hungry during the day. Most days I have lost the hunger battle and have eaten something besides my planned meal. Today, I am really going to apply all my energies to fighting the hunger. I am now exercising an hour and a half, about five miles of cardio, as opposed to my previous eighteen minutes, about one mile of cardio. I want to get up to two hours total.

The exercise is making me feel stronger, and it seems like some of the fat is melting away. I just need to reduce my carbs more, maybe. I am not sure. I have never been an exerciser, and still kind of loathe it. But I have to do it in order to reach my goal. That is what keeps me going: my goal. Call it self-destructive, call it healthy activity, call it what you like. I will always, in the end, do what I want and nothing less.

I am brimming with ideas about the upcoming costume/makeup photo session. I have been making sketches of what I want to do. Really looking forward to it. It will be a test of my makeup skills, and creativity. It feels nice to have something to apply my creative side to.

Otherwise, there is nothing new really. Still pissed about some areas of life, saddened by others. Whatever. I just don't matter very much to some people, and that is obvious to me now. And it doesn't really affect me anymore. The feeling is mutual.

I've got bigger things going on, you know? A busy girl like me can't waste her time on trivial things. And people.

"From the tears and the pain and the fears and the rain
From the dark to the light you were once shining bright
Put your hand in my hand
Put your hand in my hand
Let me show you the way

Put your hand in my hand
Let me show you the way
and you will understand
I will show you the way..."
-Divine Inspiration "The Way"

Double entendre

2011-06-08T18:11:00.000-05:00

"Wake up (wake up)
Grab a brush and put a little makeup
Hide the scars to fade away the shake up
Why'd you leave the keys up on the table?
Here you go create another fable

(You wanted to)
Grab a brush and put on a little makeup
(You wanted to)
Hide the scars to fade away the shake up
(You wanted to)
Why'd you leave the keys up on the table?
(You wanted to)

I don't think you trust in my
Self-righteous suicide,
I cry, when angels deserve to die
In my self-righteous suicide,
I cry, when angels deserve to die

Father (father)
Father (father)
Father (father)
Father (father)
Father into your hands, I commend my spirit
Father into your hands, why have you forsaken me?
In your eyes, forsaken me
In your thoughts, forsaken me
In your heart, forsaken me

Oh, trust in my, self-righteous suicide
I cry when angels deserve to die
In my self-righteous suicide
I cry when angels deserve to die"
- System of a Down "Chop Suey!"

In a sort of chaos today. Got in about an hour and a half of exercise, but I don't feel like it is enough. I feel like I need to go faster, go longer, do more types of exercise. I did the treadmill and swam. Thankfully, no one was at the pool to see my fat ass. Well, there was one woman, but she was so fat that it didn't matter. In considering the two of us, I wondered why fat people wear bathing suits. Or why suits are made that large. I guess everyone has a right to swim...

So, on exercise, I did okay. But then food happened. I had my daily planned food this morning, but I got sleepy this afternoon. When I wake up from a nap, I am not thinking clearly sometimes, and I ended up eating bread with honey and some cheese. I purged, but only a little since my body is broken somewhat in that area. I am still furious that I can't purge like I used to. I used to be able to purge at will. Now, it takes all this effort with little results. With all that I ate, I know that I won't have a loss in the morning and that depresses me. I can only hope that my dramatic increase in exercise will start showing up on my body soon.

Overall, in just about every area, I feel like a failure in life. The only things that I am good at are self-destruction and artistic stuff. Oh, and guess I am good at being an aunt, too. I am complicated to know personally, which is why most people stay the fuck away from me. Also, I must admit, I seclude myself. I don't get hurt as often, but I do get lonely I suppose. Besides "lonely", I also get into this place where I am so wrapped up in my little world that I can't see things as they are for others.

Going to be working on some artfully done photos of me (ugh) to update my blog/Facebook/Twitter accounts. Hopefully, with enough makeup, baggy clothing, and Photoshop-ery, my corpse will be presentable. And, if I get at it with some smart tools and custom brushes, I could make something pretty awesome, I think. Sorry, some of that was Shop talk. Excited about playing in CS5 again.

"Father into your hands, I commend my spirit
Father into your hands, why have you forsaken me?
In your eyes, forsaken me
In your thoughts, forsaken me
In your heart, forsaken me"

Watching the world burn

2011-06-07T12:28:00.000-05:00

"I believe... whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you... stranger."
-Heath Ledger as The Joker in The Dark Knight

"Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn."
- Michael Caine as Alfred in The Dark Knight

So, I have it all figured out. But I will get to that in a minute.

Quick fact: I have overdosed 16 times, 2 times required stays in ICU due to comas. I suck at suicide, mainly because I don't have a gun. *smiles* I would have been dead at 18 if I had had access to a gun.

I had a scare with my struggle with self-injury. After a very difficult day yesterday, I was left with no other outlets. I had to either feel terrible or kill the pain by excising it from my skin. The isolation, the anger, the loneliness, the misunderstanding... an endless list. I sat back and planned it. Where I would cut (the sides of my stomach), how many cuts (five per side), how long they would be (~2 inches), and how I would treat them with most of my supplies from my "kit" being gone. And through it all, I couldn't think of anything but getting away from the emotional pain, running blindly into physical pain, something I can handle. But I didn't do it. I fell apart, letting the emotions have their way with me and took it. I hated myself for it. I feel like I can't fight back anymore. All my weapons have been taken from me. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable, and I hate that.

So, I've been reading a lot on fitness and "health". My theory to reach the ideal body I have in mind is to eat very little and only exercise minimally, to prevent bulky muscle build-up, since I want to be delicate. However, to burn the body fat that I want to be rid of, mainly on my stomach, thighs, and ass, I must do cardio and lots of it. I have started briskly walking; today, I did one hour on the treadmill and about eighteen minutes outdoors walking my dog. I am hoping to work myself up to two hours, and since I get bored easily, movies on my laptop will be required! My food has been out of control, eating like 800 calories a day, but that ends tomorrow. I read some about the side effects of bulimia and realized that the food surging into my throat after eating is reflux caused by my days of excessive purging. Glad those days are (mostly) behind me! Too bad they left a small impression on my body.

Basically, I just restructured my plan to lose weight and be skinny. I figured out, with the help of fitness articles, how I can reach the goal that I have in mind. I really do have it all figured out. And this is something that is mine; a project that only I can complete. People can try to tamper with it, but they will fail. Maybe I am forgetting that I started all of this as a way to destroy myself. I want to watch myself burn. I started smoking as a form of slow suicide, too. But, at the moment, I have been seduced by the image of the beautiful me. I want to be her. I am ignoring or simply not acknowledging the "dangers".

I am falling further and further in a deep, black space. And since I am the only one who is falling, no one can hurt me. And no one can save me. *laughs* I won't allow it. Stay hidden, stay safe. "There's nothing here, but what's here is mine. Something borrowed, something blue, Every me and every you."

Ita sum defessus.

2011-06-02T18:28:00.000-05:00

"Inner beauty is a joke; kill your hunger with a smoke."
-some silly thinspo quote

I am battle-weary. The days grow longer and longer, it seems like. Every day, starting at around 1 or 2 in the afternoon, I become ravenous. Despite my attempts to distract myself, I still find myself tempted to eat a second Lean Cuisine or some crackers. Today I managed to make it through, but it was hard. Switching from all the eating I have had to do lately (to be "normal") back to my diet has been an extremely difficult transition. On occasion, I have eaten and attempted to get rid of it, but it is like my body holds on to the food now. Very frustrating to not have that tool available to me.

As I continue on in my diet, I have found that the inner voice, which you may recall I dubbed "Ronina", has fused with the rest of my mind. It is no longer this "thing" that tells me how bad I am, how fat I am etc. Now, it is like "she" has become enmeshed in the workings of my mind, and we are one. On some level, I find it sad that the only thing I feel "one" with is a self-deprecating voice. But, for the most part, I accept it. Honestly, it is almost a relief to have me being the only critic. Before, I had two strong opinions being "shouted" at me in my head. Now, I have one overwhelmingly powerful line of thoughts that tries to help me stay out of trouble or, otherwise, makes me feel like shit.

The other item of concern is that I am forgetting more and more that I have a disease. I forget that I am not on a diet, but that I have an extremely unbalanced view towards food and body image and am filled with an obsession that could kill me. I divide myself up into "heart" and "head" when it comes to matters like this. My heart is 100% filled with the obsession. My head is 75% consumed with it while a weak 25% knows that I am ill. I wonder if the time will come when that shrinks to ten percent, five percent, and then none.

I am realizing now that it is going to take a long time to reach my goal. I have come a long way but have so much farther to go. I am so tired. When will the end be in sight? When can I stop fighting? When will I finally be okay with what I see in the mirror and on the scale? I wish it was now.

Other parts of my life are either at standstill or falling apart. But, as I said in a previous post, I will not discuss those things here anymore.

Ita sum defessus.

Reflections on My Self-Injury

2011-05-27T10:44:00.000-05:00

"Blood transforms the warm bath water
and, in it, I see weakly
that this was a mistake.
The razor’s cut is not deep, nevertheless
the blood rushes out happily in the warm
water as if kin to it, the same
tender substance.
Rising
a new person
transformed with an icy
sense of error
I go to the sink and turn on cold water
which is not friendly to blood.
The cut is deeper than imagined.
It hurts.
Splashes on the pale gold tile,
bright red bursts like sunlight,
like exclamation points—Another Error!
I wrap a small towel around my wrist.
A small towel indicates a small error.
Soaked through
the towel’s gold is tarnished.
There is an innocent joy in the blood’s
flow that the towel and I cannot absorb.
These spurts, worth twenty dollars a pint
on the market, sense themselves unmarketable now.
Another towel wrapped tight in terror
slows everything down. On a blue velvet
love seat from which love has wandered I
sit waiting. I am an angel with an alert
backbone. I am purified from the business
of panic."
–Joyce Carol Oates, “Passing an Afternoon”

With the exception of a couple minor slips, I have been free of cutting, burning my flesh, and hitting my body with weights for over a year. I was recently reminded of how these behaviors affect others, how they are greeted with shock and misunderstanding. How could you do that to yourself? You're crazy... I could never do that. Why did you start? When? What gave you the idea?

I started self-injuring when I was 13, following a fight with my mother. I fled to my bedroom, filled with rage and pain, and unable to tolerate the levels of emotion I was feeling. I saw a pair of sewing scissors on my desk, there for a Home Ec. class assignment. On an impulse, I grabbed them. I had no outlet for my scathing emotions, since speaking against my mother earned nothing but more recrimination. That impulse led me to take the blades of scissors to the skin on my forearms, slashing with focused ecstasy as I was able to release the rage upon myself. I had the notion that I deserved it. It felt frighteningly natural. My cuts bled on and off for days. I wore long sleeves but had to reveal my secret during a class when the blood was showing through my shirt. I rolled up my sleeves to check, without regard for what others might think. I recall hearing whispers and gasps, and my teacher stopped her lesson to gawk and send me to the counselor. I thought nothing of it. Self- injury had already assumed a place of normalcy in my life, nothing out of the ordinary, and I would return to it off and on through my early adolescence.

As I entered high school, I had graduated from scissors or pins and had started purchasing single-edged blades with funds from my after school job at a bakery. I carved the word "FAT" into my upper thigh. I also carved the word "HATE" there. I can no longer read them due to a massive scar that I inflicted later. Around this time, I started experimenting with starvation and purging. The major incident in high school was a day we got progress reports. I saw that I had a B in AP U.S. History and knew the scolding I would receive. I went to bathroom with my sly, silver friend and shredded my forearms. I had control again. I was granted a purity and peace and numbness that would sustain me through anything life at home would hand to me. The feelings of dread, failure, and fear were banished. I was not wearing long sleeves that day, and passed through the halls of high school and two classes with my arms on display and bleeding. People stared and some even asked me if I was okay. I thought it was odd, since I felt fine. I felt great, actually. After the counselor had been made aware of my problem, I was summoned, my mom was called and I was taken for an emergency visit to the psychiatrist. Driving to the doctor, I kept crying and apologizing to my mother. I felt incredibly guilty.

My cutting began to increase in college, and during this period I attempted suicide for the first time. I was in the Honors Program, with a difficult major, and had high expectations piled upon me. I also had relationships during this period, all of which failed. With the loss of every relationship, I turned to the self-injury as consolation. It would deaden me when loneliness, sadness, failure, and loss sharpened into fine daggers that seemed to stab my heart and then twist the blade. My emotions were getting out of control, due to my Borderline Personality Disorder beginning to show itself. With volatile emotions, immense self-hatred, and the solution I had found to ease my pain, my love of the blade grew. A razor had become my closest friend. For a long period, from college until I was working, I would cut my stomach, upper thighs and chest. I had learned, by this time, that people did not understand me and my obsession and so it went into hiding under my clothes.

As I entered my mid-to-late 20's, the self-injury became much more serious. My mental illness had worsened, and I spent a year or two being anorexic after periods of bulimia. I also attempted suicide multiple times. Rather than begin to deal with my problems, I drew closer and closer to the self-injury. I found new ways to harm myself, ways that hurt worse. I began burning myself by heating lighters up and pressing them deep into my flesh; I also used cigarettes. The burning inflicted an indescribable amount of pain, but took me to a higher place through the pain. I felt free and pure and holy. The sense of peace and calm and control was something I never had experienced. This began my addiction. The sacred ritual. Sterilizing the devices, laying out the bandages, laying out the towels, all in order. It became my daily retreat, and I would alternate between burning and cutting, or some days just burning or just cutting. The control I had over the infliction of the wounds, the care of the wounds, and the healing made the chaos of my intense emotions manageable. And, no matter what was happening in my life, it made me feel like I had this one thing that mine, and mine alone. No one could take it from me.

It finally ended after a long hospital stay, at the age 27. The hospital didn't cure me. I took cues from people in my life and decided to stop. As with alcoholism and drug abuse, I simply stepped away. I don't understand how I was capable of doing so, but am so grateful that I did. I still hate myself, and still have no self-worth. And I sometimes long for the sanctuary that self-injury provided for me, but have come to realize that experiencing emotions, all of them, is not terrible. It is part of being human.

It took me 14 years of torturing myself to finally come to this realization. I earnestly hope that most who self-injure don't have to go through as many years of hell as I did.

Anyways, I just thought I would give a brief history of my SI past, since I have begun to mainly focus on my "diet" in recent posts. Hope you found it at least a little informative.

Am I sick?

2011-05-26T11:42:00.001-05:00

"Dieting is about losing some weight in a healthy way so how you feel on the outside will match how good you already feel on the inside."
- from the website Something Fishy

I am still feeling rather uncertain about several aspects of my life. The main issue is, of course, the eating disorder/diet. While I can read the list of characteristics of EDs and somewhat identify with them, I am finding it harder and harder to see them as problems. I keep coming back to the thought that this is just how I live. Other people, most people even, don't make the choices I make but that just makes me not "normal" or "average". It doesn't necessarily make me sick or unhealthy. Perhaps I am delusional in this area now as well being delusional about my body size (so I'm told).

I joined the Something Fishy support and recovery community and posted about my doubts. The responses have said that I have to surrender, to accept things that I do not believe to be true to be facts. I don't know if I am capable of that. To me, the facts are that I am fat, do not exercise enough, and have a long way to go before I reach my ideal. To others, the facts are that I am diseased, delusional and in danger. I am not dieting to match my wonderful feelings inside to the outside. I hate myself, and find innumerable flaws with myself. I correlate inner happiness with how I look on the outside. I can't change that I am ugly, but I can at least be thin someday. Will I be happy then? I don't know. I think or hope I will be.

The blurry image in my mind that I see as my ideal is like a ghost that haunts me, leaning over my shoulder to whisper in my ear when I get hungry and want to eat. Sometimes it is like a shrieking banshee, pushing me to work harder and be stronger when hunger strikes. The image has meshed with the "voice" I named Ronina. Or maybe Ronina has meshed with me. I don't know anymore. Again, I do not have auditory hallucinations. These are like internal dialogues, just like when someone is pondering a problem or making a to-do list in their head. I do not need much prodding to do what is right. I will give myself credit for having exceptional willpower. And I am very precise and well-planned in regards to my diet, compensatory behaviors, and exercise.

I wish I could apply these talents, however unsubstantial they are, to something else. But nothing seems to merit the use of these skills. Without question, the diet/lifestyle is the most important thing in my life, not to include people, etc. in that group. I breath it, feed off of it, drink it, and really live it. It has resumed its role in as fulfillment for me again. I think the stretch of time of not being fulfilled by it was due to PMS. Every month, PMS fully fucks up how I feel, how I interact, everything. Being a woman sucks sometimes. :)

Someone else's dream

2011-05-25T10:01:00.000-05:00

"How strangely awake I feel…as if living had been a dream. Someone else's dream…Now I will begin a dream of my own that will never end. Antony. Antony, wait!"
- Elizabeth Taylor as "Cleopatra" in 1963's Cleopatra

It has been a little while since I last posted. I feel like the words are coming more slowly than before. It has been a hard several days. There were many occasions that required me to eat a lot and I gained a few pounds. I am tapering myself down from the quantity of food I had to consume back to my normal levels. It has been difficult.

After doing some research, I discovered that I am actually not exclusively bulimic or anorexic. I am in the gray area, a diagnosis called Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (EDNOS). Since I am still having periods, I am not technically anorexic. Since my bouts of eating, and purging, is less than twice a week, and since I do not eat to the point that I am in pain, I am not technically bulimic. This is not something that really bothers me. I am doing these things to look a certain way, not to fit the DSM-IV diagnostic criteria. Also, I am still undecided as to whether this is a lifestyle choice or an actual disease. Nothing would please me more than to not have another diagnosis added to my name.

I have been sick with a cold for the past few days and have not gotten to exercise, and feel flabbier as a result. Of course, it goes without saying that I am flabbier because of all the eating I had to do. When will I be strong enough to simply sit back and refuse the food? It seems like I should have mastered this already, but apparently my desire to feign normalcy has won out over my ultimate desires. Despite feeling like shit, I am going to try to exercise a little today and hope that I don't cough up a lung in the process. Even in light of the benefits, exercise bores me to death. I hate it and try to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Other areas of my life are depressing to me, but I do not wish to discuss them here anymore. It is not that these circumstances or events are not important to me; I just feel like talking about them takes away from the main purpose of the blog. Unless something actually happens or changes drastically, it will not be mentioned. On that note, my last appointment with my soon-to-be ex-therapist is Friday and then I start all over again with someone new. It is not causing me a great deal of distress, mainly just minor irritation.

As it is, I have nothing to live for but my desire to change my body. I have nothing but the self-deriding "voice" and my own inner turmoil to keep me company. It is a primarily solitary existence, and one that does not cause me too much pain. I feel nothing most of the time, with loneliness or desperation or rage only occasionally piercing the apathetic cloud I am shrouded by. I am capable of immense, powerful rage. It was one of the leading emotions in my desire to self-injure, outside of the addiction to self-injury and the ritual. I feel like the rage has fine-tuned itself so that it is primarily directed at me. Perhaps this intense rage is mingled with or maybe even confused with the self-hatred I feel. I'm not implying that the loneliness and desperation are not powerful as well because they cause sadness and pain that cleaves into the core of me. But, as someone with BPD, my emotions are supposed to be volatile, rapidly changing, and intense.

Anyways, once I have taken off the weight gained by eating (really hating myself for that), I can again begin the progression downward. I still have no actual goal weight in mind, just a blurry image of what I want to be. Hopefully, things will begin to become clearer and I will not just be dieting and dieting with no end in sight.

Prometheus, laid open

2011-05-17T08:59:00.000-05:00

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
- Macbeth in Shakespeare's "Macbeth"

Rather start back on my diet yesterday, after an epic failure this weekend, I ate and felt horrible about it. After the strong lashings I figuratively gave myself for messing up so badly, my resolve is strengthened and I will be successful for the rest of the week. I simply cannot remain in this same weight range for much longer; it is driving me insane. With the weather looking up for the first time in days, I will get out to exercise.

Despite all my efforts to look "normal" to family, I will have to be abnormal tomorrow. I am going to help my sister on her day off with my nephews, and since it is during the week, I will have to abstain from eating. I am sure that I will be asked to eat, with much raising of eyebrows at my refusal, but I can't help that. I have to make the choices that will be beneficial to me, since I have to live with myself.

Even with all my posts detailing my daily life with this diet/disease, I am still left wondering how it got as bad as this. I may have been predisposed to mental illness and substance abuse, but anorexia/bulimia is something that is cultivated and grows like the most stubborn briar. My problem started out so simply, so innocently... I just wanted to lose some weight. Then the calories, starting at 1000/day, kept getting chipped away until I was down to a Lean Cuisine a day, and then to just strawberries. I started exercising, first just a little, now a couple of miles. A slow progression that has led me to where I am now.

Other things have started fleeing from me. Emotions, connections with others, desires to do different activities, et al. have left me. As I lost weight, I lost those things too. The Borderline in me is crying out in loneliness, while the eating disorder looks on blankly, apathetically. And no one wants to deal with me. If it weren't for close family, my mother and sister, and my boyfriend, I would have no interaction with people at all. I am isolated on my own little island of disease.

I used to have dreams of a future, but those dreams have died. The only thing I focus on now is the current day, sometimes the day after as well, and what I can do to starve a little more, lose a little more, and hurt a little less. But my time is mainly empty because the diet fills my mind, not my day.

I don't know why I keep posting. I mean, I know people read it, but it sometimes feels like I am saying the same thing over and over. I guess it is like my blog description says, "I scratch words on the walls now, so people will visit this museum and know how someone like me ends up like this."

Lips like petals, eyes lit from within

2011-05-12T09:01:00.000-05:00

"Oceans of angels, oceans of stars,
Down by the sea is where you drown your scars..."
- Hole "Malibu"
"Oh, give me a reason to be beautiful
So sick in his body, so sick in his soul
Oh, and I will make myself so beautiful
Oh, and everything I am
Miles and miles of perfect skin
I swear I do, I fit right in
My love burns through everything
I cannot breathe
Miles and miles of perfect sin
I swear, I said, I fit right in
I fit right in your perfect skin
I cannot breathe"
- Hole "Reasons to be Beautiful"

I am a little upset today because I had to eat part of a Lean Cuisine instead of my usual strawberries. I will admit that I was pleased with the loss between yesterday and today so, for once, the scale made me happy. I can't help but focus on the extra calories I consumed with the LC. It really bothers me. I am going out tonight, and dinner is part of the package, but I will not eat just because everyone else is. I will just have a diet drink, and enjoy the company and the movie at the Alabama Theater.

My therapist asked me what I want my body to look like. After a brief period of reflection, I listed the following traits:

Smaller tummy
Thighs that do not touch at any point (upper inner thighs are the problem)
Ribs visible, hipbones pronounced
Smaller calves
Reduction of fat on hips and butt
Longer neck (can't do anything about that one)

After I listed my desires, she asked me, yet again, about eating disorder treatment. That is not feasible, financially or otherwise. She also mentioned my blog, and said that she noticed that it is not saving that I want, but a reason for getting better. She detected my need for normalcy, and said that my dreams are something from a movie and not realistic. Great. So even my hopes for a future are not realistic, just like my perception of my body. But since I do not have any of the things I dream about, all I can do is cling to the little wisp of hope that I have left. That wisp is eluding me, and I chase it and try to capture it like smoke in bottle.

As much as I look forward to Saturday, when my boyfriend comes up, I also look to the weekend with dread. My abusive inner voice will be "shouting" in my head as I eat. It makes me want to cry.

The thing about the abusive inner voice is that I feel like I deserve it. I have done horrible things in the past, and am a bad person. Despite making many strides towards being healthy, I can't ever repent for the things I have done, for the people I hurt. So, since direct amends are impossible, I give this "voice" free reign to make me miserable, kind of like having an abusive boyfriend. I take it all, gladly in a way, and don't think twice about the insults, jabs, and degradation. It is simply a part of my existence and I live with it every day. I can't mute it, and don't want to, really. After all, I am terrible, worthless person. Why have positivity as a part of my life when I don't deserve it?

Anyways, I have a lot to look forward to in the next few days so I will focus on that. Well, the small part of me that isn't obsessed with my body and diet will focus on the upcoming distractions. Maybe it will distract me me enough to where I can feel some kind of real happiness, instead of the manufactured variety I am used to.

Flawless logic

2011-05-11T10:48:00.000-05:00

"Please die ana
For as long as you're here we're not
You make the sound of laughter
And sharpened nails seem softer
And I need you now somehow
And I need you now somehow

Open fire on the needs designed
On my knees for you
Open fire on my knees desires
What I need from you

Imagine a pageant
In my head the flesh seems thicker
Sandpaper tears corrode the filth
And I need you now somehow
And I need you now somehow

Open fire on the needs designed
On my knees for you
Open fire on my knees desires
What I need from you

And you're my obsession
I love you to the bones
And ana wrecks your life
Like an anorexia life..."
- Silverchair "Ana's Song (Open Fire)"

I quoted this song because the lead singer of Silverchair suffered from anorexia, though he overcame it. It is unusual, though not unheard of, for a male to have anorexia. I find it interesting.

While I can see how "ana wrecks your life" and how that relates to my life, it doesn't really phase me. I am really struggling to maintain the "strawberries only" diet plan. The pain from hunger gets so great that I eat something else. Perhaps I need to add some form of really low calorie and low fat protein, like tofu. I happen to enjoy tofu, as I learned when I was a practicing vegetarian. Chicken breast is also an option, but I will really have to think about it.

I don't know what is real anymore. I cannot say with honesty that I know how I look. I can have some measure of how I am doing when I step on the scale, but when it comes to looking in the mirror or even just looking down at my body, I don't know if what I see is reality or not. That kind of worries me, as I don't like to think that I am imagining things, but if it is true then it is a problem. Body dysmorphia is the technical term. My therapist thinks that I have that problem pretty bad but, again, I don't know.

My boyfriend is telling me that I am lying to myself about how I am not in danger, that I am taking care of myself. That could also be true, but I can't see it. I don't know what is truth or lies anymore. I am making some changes in my weekend plans when he comes to visit. I usually give myself a license to eat when he is around to, once again, play the "I'm normal" role. Now I see that my weekend splurges are holding me back on the weight loss. After the weekend, I have gained two pounds or so, and I have to make up for that and then some before the next weekend comes. Two steps forward, one back, every week. So, I will still eat some but I will be very careful with what I put in my mouth. I hope it doesn't upset him too much. Well, actually, I know it will bother him, but I don't know how to deal with it. I don't know how to balance my lifestyle with my relationship. I am not choosing between the lifestyle and the relationship because I want both; I just don't know how to deal with it and he doesn't either.

Since cutting calories is not possible, the only thing I can do is increase my exercise. Maybe I will have to train myself to get in shape for running. I sort of don't want to get into running, but walking makes my calves huge with muscle and I hate that. Maybe they aren't huge, but to me they look gross. Again, is that real or not? I don't know.

I never thought I would lose touch with reality but that could actually be happening. It frightens me a little.

So deep, like dirty water

2011-05-10T08:58:00.000-05:00

"Swing low sweet cherry
Make it awful
It's your life, it's your party, it's so awful
Let's start a fire
Let's have riot! Yeah it's awful
It was punk
Yeah, it was perfect now it's awful

They know how to break all the girls like you
And they rob the souls of the girls like you
And they break the hearts of the girls

Swing low, cherry, cherry
Yeah it's awful
He's drunk, he tastes
Like candy, he's so beautiful
He's so deep, like dirty water
God, he's awful
You're lost, oh, where's your daddy - it's so awful

And the royalty rate all the girls like you
And they sell it out to the girls like you
To incorporate little girls

Hey, run away with the light
Run away, it's divine
Let's run away, yeah, tonight and
We'll steal the light of the world

Swing low, sweet cherry, yeah, it's awful
You're ripe for the picking, it's so awful
You've got your youth
Don't waste your money
Yeah it's awful
I was punk
Now I'm just stupid
I'm so awful..."
- Hole "Awful"

I have had to be "normal" the past few days. It started on Saturday with my nephew's birthday party, then Sunday for Mother's Day, and then yesterday for my nephew's birthday dinner. I stepped on the scale this morning and wanted to cry. But I reassured myself with the knowledge that today, and many days to come, I have the time to undo the damage done by eating. I could have just said no and stuck out by not eating, but one thing I crave is to appear normal, and so I ate.

Unlike a lot of anorexic girls, as I have learned from my perusal of multiple pro-ana sites, I do not idolize models, actresses, etc. I have my own mental picture of what I should be, and that is what I want. I don't want what Kate Moss has. I want the thinness that I am capable of. And while I am still a long way from what I want, I know what it looks like now. It might be ugly or shocking to some, but, to me, it will be beautiful. And finally feeling beautiful, for once in my life, is my ultimate goal.

In other areas of my life, I am growing more and more impatient and bored. Despite how hard I try to push those feelings aside, they are surfacing and making it hard to focus on my goal. I plan to discuss in therapy this week how I can deal with these feelings without letting them continue to poison my thoughts and interactions with others.

I am basically hating my life right now, and waiting to get to the other side where I actually like my life, perhaps even love it. I don't know if it is situational depression or an actual depressive phase, but I am finding it hard to motivate myself to do anything. It is hard to deal with other people, hard to want to move through my day with some measure of success, like exercising and such.

While I may have the diet to focus on, it is not enough anymore. I need something else to give me hope. Not finding that special something is my greatest fear.

Wish you were here.

Wish you were here

2011-05-06T08:15:00.002-05:00

"So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
And cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk-on part in the war,
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found
The same old fears.
Wish you were here."
-Pink Floyd "Wish you were here"

I am in such a dark place right now. Living on one plate of strawberries a day (though, after a dizzy/weakness spell, I ate a Lean Cuisine) is taking its toll on me physically and emotionally. Today I am back on the diet, despite the fact that I will be just as active today and could again fall prey to exhaustion. My nephew's birthday is tomorrow, and since a bunch of family will be there I will have to eat some. I want to cry. Then there is mother's day, and we are going for brunch and, again, I want to cry. I will have to do something to counteract all the excess calories.

My third anniversary with my boyfriend is coming up on the 21st. The tornado and its devastation of his town has taken a toll on him emotionally, despite the the fact that his home and family are both safe and unharmed. I don't know how long it will take for him to recover. I wish I could do something to help him, but it seems there is nothing I can do. In my selfish mind, I wonder how much this has set us back as a couple. My diet is already driving a wedge into the relationship, but what about this new catastrophe? It makes me wonder how much longer I will have to wait for anything to change in the relationship. We have been put on the back burner, it feels like. It is not that I don't enjoy his weekend visits, but that is all we have had for coming up on three years, plus a few vacations. Something has to give. I am really losing hope on this front in my life. He is not coming up this weekend so he can volunteer. One part of me is proud, and the other feels a little lost. His visits are the highlights of my weeks which are, for the most part, filled with obsession with my body and sickness. I guess, at least, I have the party and mother's day to focus on, but I miss him so much.

Again, I am forced to look to my diet/eating disorder as a comfort. It is my routine, something that I can rely on. Unfortunately, a side effect of anorexia is depression (like I need that) and feel its cold hand gripping my heart as though it wants to smother the life out of me. It also makes the searing pain of loneliness that much more part of my consciousness. Also, it quietly grows that feeling that I don't matter, that I should just disappear.

Wish you were here.

A revelation

2011-05-05T08:43:00.000-05:00

"And I will die slowly
like steam escaping from a pipe...

And all the actresses who won my parts would say
How wonderful to let yourself go that mad
How wonderful to go on that kind of journey
And not care if you come back to tell the story...

You've come to bury me
There's nothing left here to pretend
Anything

And now I understand
You leave with everything
You leave with everything I am
Withering"
-Golden Palominos and Hole

There is a major BUT in this post, so don't let the negative outweigh the positive. Before I start, I thought I would mention that my therapist, who has told me before that she doesn't work with eating disorder patients, is leaving the counseling center to go to APS outpatient eating disorder treatment center. Wow.

So, in therapy yesterday, we tackled the problem of why I keep doing what I am doing, why I want to be smaller and smaller. I told her about the time when I was 22 and didn't eat anything for a month and a half, while working out and holding down a job, etc. She noticed the pride in my voice when I talked about it. I wouldn't be eating now if it weren't for the supplements and medications that I take. I also told her that I feel like I don't really matter to anyone, like those who are close to me avert their eyes from me so they don't see me. Her reply was, "So, you want to get smaller and smaller until you disappear". I looked up at her and nodded. Then, like a flash of lightning, I blurted out what is, I think, part of my disorder. I want to die as slowly and as loudly as I can so everyone around will know exactly how much pain I am in. Are you suicidal, she asked? No, not at all. Not actively, anyways. I do still have some desire to live, as I will explain in a moment.

My mom wonders why I can't just stop, why I can't just start eating normally. I was able to do it before, but that seems like years, instead of months, ago. My boyfriend asks, what are people supposed to do? Force food down me? What is there to do? I don't know anymore. I used to think that eating disorder treatment would be the answer, but even if I had the opportunity (like, if I won the lottery) I am unsure if I would go. I just don't care anymore. I don't want to try, even with the eating disorder not providing the same level of comfort as it used to. I don't want to save me. I am not worth saving. I already feel like a ghost of myself, just a shadow of the person I used to be.

BUT

At the same time, I still have a tiny amount of hope. I persist in thinking that something wonderful will happen, something that will prove I have worth. I could not identify, in talking to my therapist, what that would look like, how people could show that they care. But I know it is a possibility. I will know it when it comes to me. If it comes to me. If there is enough time. I am living off of strawberries, Diet Dr. Pepper, and this tiny hope. Not all is lost.

He asks, "Why?"

2011-05-04T08:36:00.000-05:00

"And now I understand
You leave with everything
You leave with everything I am
Withering

And now I know that love is dead
You've come to bury me
There's nothing left here to pretend
Anything

Remember, you promised me
I'm dying, I'm dying, please
I want to, I need to be
Under your skin"
-Hole "Dying"

My boyfriend keeps asking me why I continue to try to lose weight. All I can say at this point is: "I don't know". I do know the horror that I see, a horror that most don't understand or see. I do know that I want to eradicate this horror, and my natural response is to starve. Well, eat tiny amounts, but mainly starve. So I am at a healthy weight. I don't want to be healthy. I don't want to be average. I want to be thin. I want a smaller body and hate the body that I'm trapped in. But all of these are surface reasons. The main reason I say that I don't know is that I really don't know. I don't care about risk because I don't care about myself, but I don't understand why I feel this overwhelming urge to be smaller. I don't know where it came from, what the origins are. My guess is that it is something important, but at the moment I don't wish to waste mental energy thinking about it.

I ate strawberries yesterday and had a roughly two pound loss. Probably just water weight, but it feels good to have the numbers moving in the right direction. Today I was planning on having a Lean Cuisine but opted instead for strawberries. I can just taste the satisfaction of another loss tomorrow.

I have therapy today, and I am planning to ask my therapist to scan my blog and see it helps her understand me a little better (thanks for the suggestion, Andrew!). Also, I want to discuss eating disorders with her. Perhaps she can answer the "why" for me, and for others who are interested. For once, I realize that I do not have all the answers. I can't research this one. The answer is inside me, and I just have to be willing to find it.

Part of all of this, I know, is that I have no reason to be healthy. I have no future. I used to have dreams, but they have slowly withered and died. That makes me only slightly hopeless, since I do have the weight loss to live for. Why be unhappy with the way I look when I can do something about it? So what if it is deadly. Who gives a damn? Not me, that's for sure.

Under your skin

2011-05-03T11:20:00.000-05:00

"You've seen a cripple dance
Pay your money, baby
Now's your chance
Your love's like cyanide

I am so dumb
Just beam me up
I've had it all forever
I've had enough

Remember, you promised me
I'm dying, I'm dying, please
I want to, I need to be
Under your skin

Our love is quicksand
So easy to drown
They steal the gravity, yeah
From moving ground

Remember, you promised me
I'm dying, I'm dying, please
I want to, I need to be
Under your skin

And now I understand
You leave with everything
You leave with everything I am
Withering

And now I know that love is dead
You've come to bury me
There's nothing left here to pretend
Anything

Remember, you promised me
I'm dying, I'm dying, please
I want to, I need to be
Under your skin

I'm dying, I'm dying, please
I'm dying, I'm dying, please
I'm dying, I'm dying, please
Under your skin
Under your skin"

-Hole "Dying"

So, after a brief period of "eating normally", I am back to my diet. I feel stronger today, like I can look any whisper of hunger in the eye and spit. I was shocked yesterday when I actually got hungry. I was so depressed that the binge monster took control and I ate some. My therapist has convinced me that what I think of as "binges" are not actually binges. However, I still think of them as binges and feel unbelievable levels of guilt after I get done.

In my head, I look six months pregnant and have the build of a linebacker. I have so much work left to do, so much weight to lose. I don't know how long it will take, but I will get there. I have to get there. I don't know if I will be happy when I do get there, but I have to try. I have to have something to live for, some kind of goal to achieve.

After all the turmoil of last week, I am back to thinking about me and my life. I know what I am doing is wrong, but I am waiting for some catalyst for change. For the time being, I have nothing to plan for, nothing to look forward to, and all I have is the lifestyle I have adopted. Okay, the eating disorder that I have. Whatever.

I am in a state of despair. Every time I walk into my bathroom, with its wall-sized mirror, I want to cry. Every time I step on the scale, it determines my mood. Every time I look down at my body, I wish I could escape it. It is no wonder that one of the two killers of anorexics is suicide (the other being starvation). I can understand the mindset, though I am not suicidal. The main thing I have been fighting is the desire to self-injure, but with bodily "perfection" as my goal, I cannot add more scars to my already marred body.

All I have is me. My lifestyle is all I have to keep me going, and even that falls flat sometimes. Sure, it is dangerous, but after all the insane shit I have done in the past, danger or risk is not something I use to calculate my decisions. So, as I have mentioned before, I'm not rational. But that doesn't matter, does it? When one is alone, what you think or do has no effect on anyone.

I will keep going to therapy, keep taking my medications and all that. For now, it is all I can do because I do not see an end in sight for what is my major issue at the moment. I keep hoping my therapist will provide some insight as to how I can attain self-esteem, but so far I have had no luck.

I am so confused. I both know what I am doing and also don't know what the fuck to do. I both have people who care about me in my life and am also totally alone. I both want to live normally and also destroy myself. A life of dualities is hard to keep straight.

Innocent white clouds and blue sky

2011-04-29T10:11:00.000-05:00

"Everybody's free, everybody's free, everybody's free
Everybody's free, everybody's free, to feel good, to feel good

Brother and sister, together, will make it through, oh oh yeah
Someday, a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know, you've been hurting, but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there, just helping you out whenever I can

Everybody's free, oooh yeah yeah (everybody's free, everybody's free)
Oh, everybody's free, oh yeah (everybody's free, everybody's free)
Oooh, to feel good (to feel good)
Oooh, to feel good"
-Quindon Tarver "Everybody's Free"

I feel very lucky. About five minutes from where I live, thirteen lives were lost to the storm that has killed, last I heard, 210. At my house, the power never went out, the satellite never went out, and the internet stayed up. All around me, entire lives were destroyed, families torn apart, businesses leveled. I sit comfortably in my home, typing up this blog post and marvel at the videos and pictures that I see on my computer. I can walk outside and my neighborhood, my entire subdivision is untouched. My boyfriend, who lives in Tuscaloosa, the hardest hit area, is safe. His family is safe and has power, but have to boil drinking water. On Twitter, I see all this talk of a space shuttle launching, a wedding, a draft and I think, over 200 people are dead and thousands are injured in so many ways. How can people care about such trivial things when so much destruction has happened? I don't understand.

I don't know why, but the past few days I have been eating close to a normal amount of calories each day. Not trying to be healthy, and I am sure that I will go back to my anorexic ways next week, but I feel like the food is a comfort to me. Something normal and sane in the center of all the madness around me. I almost can't read anything else about the decimation or look at any more pictures. It is too real, too close to home. And focusing on the eating disorder is far too trivial right now.

My boyfriend is volunteering today in Tuscaloosa and then is coming up to stay with me. I will be glad to have him here. Just knowing he is safe is a blessing. He rode the storm out in a building on the UA campus that is a fallout shelter. I will try to make it is as normal and quiet for him as possible while he is here. Despite the fact that his family is fine, he is hurting for his hometown. I don't quite know what to do for him as I have never been exposed to a situation like this before. Sure, I have been through lots of earthquakes growing up in California, but my homes were never damaged. Lots of glass items broke, but that was about it, as far as I can remember.

My thoughts are with those who have lost loved ones, those who still have loved ones missing, those with injured children, those who lost everything, and those who lost even just a little. For those who believe, may the Serenity Prayer be in their hearts.

Turn it into something beautiful

2011-04-26T10:27:00.000-05:00

I am back at square one with my eating disorders. While I thought that OA was a solution that I could make work for me, I was wrong. The last meeting I attended, I could not have felt more separate or different from the people gathered around the table. One person even made remarks that she didn't know what she was (after I defined my diagnosis) but that it didn't really matter to her. Everyone felt the need to define themselves as compulsive overeaters, furthering my feelings of separateness. I left the meeting early. You see, people in OA don't see any other solution than the program, and someone like me who questions its effectiveness is an affront to them. So, I am leaving OA, and am not sure if I will ever return.

My psychiatrist and therapist nod politely at my attempts in OA, and then follow up with asking me about eating disorder treatment. I know that I am sick and that treatment would probably help, but I also learned in OA that the solution must come from within; you must have the desire to change. Right now, I don't care. I care about very little, least of all myself. I can't think of a reason in the world of why I should care about myself.

I know that I have lost weight. I know that I am probably at what could be called "goal weight". But I want more. I want to be smaller. I still have fat on my stomach and thighs and butt that I find repulsive and want to be rid of. I am changing my diet. I am alternating between having strawberries one day and the next having a Lean Cuisine. I am hoping this will help. Trying to extend my exercise is not a possibility, as I felt exhausted and could hardly make my legs move toward the end of it. Or maybe if I make it a habit, my body will adjust. I don't know.

Otherwise, I feel incredibly lonely. I feel lost, like I will never have that happy ending that I dream about so often. Trapped in the mindset of eating disorders, who would want me anyway? I am untouchable, unlovable, unavailable. I try to take comfort in my problems, let them be a wall between me and my feelings/reality, but I am finding more and more that the problems are not as powerful as my emotions.

So I am faced with another long day - one where I count the hours until I can sleep again, and mark time by smoking and drinking Diet Dr. Pepper. I could do something else besides eat a little, exercise, and feel miserable, but I don't care enough to do anything. This is where I come back to the not caring about myself. I don't know how to live any other way. Living some other way would have to be a learned behavior, and I have no teacher.

I feel so dead inside.

365 Days

2011-04-22T09:52:00.000-05:00

"Father Ed Dowling, a dear friend of the AA program in its early years, once remarked that if he were to find himself in heaven it would be of no virtue of his own. He would get there by merely backing away from hell."
- from Abstinence

Today is a one year anniversary for me. It is an anniversary I would have never thought of in my early twenties, would have even laughed at because I never thought I had problems. My problems were alcohol and self-injury. And, while I have had three very minor slips with the self-injury, I have never returned to the place where I burned deep marks into my skin with lighters or cut myself so deeply that I required stitches, hit myself my weights to inflict bruises and bumps all over my body. And while I have been around alcohol multiple times, mainly at family gatherings, I have not once felt compelled to drink.

I am scarred by both of these maladies. My body has hundreds, if not thousands, of scars on my thighs, arms, stomach, and chest. My family and those close to me had to watch as I destroyed myself, piece by piece. I had to wear long sleeved shirts in summer, or endure questions about what happened to me. I never once replied with honesty. For quite a while, burning or cutting myself was a daily ritual. Sterilizing the instruments of destruction, laying out the tape, gauze, ointment, iodine (because it hurt more)... it all had a rhythm and comfort in it. It was routine. Just like with the eating disorders, I didn't think about it. I never thought it was odd or abnormal; it was just how I lived.

Emotionally, I am scarred by the drinking. I did terrible things, both to others and myself, while intoxicated. I broke things, caused fights, injured myself, etc. The last time I drank, I had a liter of rum, along with three bottles of a month's worth of medication. I very nearly died. I woke up in ICU, with stitches again, and was confused as to why I was there and not dead. All the medication I choked down should have killed me, but once again I was saved. I guess after all the suicide attempts, I should know by now that I would be pulled out of dark abyss and returned to the land of the living. Attempting suicide is something else I have not done in a year. But something changed after the last attempt. It was like a switch got flipped in my head and I didn't want to drink anymore. How it happened is not important to me. All I know is that my life is so much safer and better without the drinking, and without all of the party people I used to hang out with.

In light of this one year anniversary, it makes me wonder what else I could change to make my life better. I have a feeling that the eating disorders are so much a part of me that it will take lots of therapy to feel strong enough to let them go. I have to get rid of my self-esteem problems, build some self worth, see myself as I really am. I have to start to think that I am something of value. These seem like impossible tasks. But who knows? If I am able to stop drinking and stop self-injuring, maybe I am capable of being free of the eating disorders. But, for now, I am going to allow myself to have some pride in my accomplishments, and focus on my next set of problems later.

I am so happy with myself. I have done something good, for once. Yay me!

Until I get to where I am

2011-04-21T10:02:00.000-05:00

"Well baby I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew ya
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Well there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Well maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who'd out drew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen in the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah"
- Jeff Buckley "Hallelujah"(cover)

So, my latest problem has been no weight change. For four days, I stayed at the same weight and I was furious. In talking with my therapist, I was talking about how I was not in any danger since I took supplements to avoid cardiac arrest, prevent skeletal muscle atrophy, keep nerves functioning well, etc. She corrected me, saying that what I do does not make up for adequate nutrition. She also mentioned a new aspect of the disease that I had not heard of before, and that is the possibility of blacking out. I was taken aback by this suggestion. I occasionally feel weak and light-headed but have not ever lost consciousness. Out of this new fear, I came home and ate some extra food, as if it would save me. This morning I am thinking a little more clearly, and plan to research this blacking out business and figure out how to prevent it with extra supplements. The crazy thing is I actually lost 0.8 of a pound from yesterday, including the extra food weight. What the fuck? Seriously.

The other problem I am faced with now is the inability to feel. I don't feel hunger anymore which makes the days easier, but I am losing the ability to feel emotion. I am unsure if it is the new medications or if the ana has started to anesthetize me emotionally. My therapist thinks it is the disease. I stay in this emotional void where very little affects me. Occasionally, the flat-line of my emotional state will dip or rise a little but never very much. Songs that used to make me cry don't make me feel anything anymore. And while I still love those that I hold dear, I don't feel it as much as I used too. It is like the disease is shutting me down, one part at a time.

As I discussed with my therapist, I have lost control. While I have the mistaken notion that I am in control because I watch what I eat so firmly and have watched as my collar bone and rib cage appeared (can't see any ribs yet), the disease is the one in control. I am unsure of when the "choice" to indulge in the ana became not a choice but simply the way that I live. I don't even think about it much. My mind is too taken up with looking at my flaws, continuously observing the fat on my stomach, hips, thighs, etc. I look at my face and find every minor imperfection. I have to remind myself that I am sick, that my behavior is abnormal. But even reminding myself of that fact doesn't change anything. I just keep doing what I am doing without thinking about it. In a way, I have given up for now. I don't give a fuck about myself, and if the disease is in control, then so be it. It doesn't matter what happens to me. I am a disposable creature of little value anyway. Just another fat person that people point and laugh at. Viewing myself this way makes me a little sad, but I get over it quickly. Just the facts that I live with.

In light of this, I am considering giving up on OA. While I thought it was a solution for me, I have found it harder and harder to connect to the program. My "binges" are not like the binges that my fellow OAers talk about. They eat fast food, whole half gallons of ice cream, whole cakes all in one sitting. My binges are, like, eating some feta cheese, some olives, and some pita and hummus. Then I get guilty and throw it up. They don't purge. They just keep it all down and become obese. When they talk at meetings, I feel so unlike them that I can't help but wonder if I have been wasting my time and gas going to two meetings a week. While there are anorexics and bulimics who have found recovery in OA, I find it hard to accept. All the literature talks about is compulsive overeating. Only a couple references are made to bulimia and anorexia. So, like I said, it's hard to connect with. I will hold off on giving up on the program because it could be the disease distorting my thinking, but I may leave OA altogether at some point.

I have very little hope for the future.

Below I have posted the lyrics to one of the most influential songs in my life at the moment:

Golden Palominos "Holy"

"I eat only sleep and air
and everyone thinks I'm dumb
but I'm smart because I've figured it out.

I am slimmer than you are
and I am burning my skin off little by little
until I reach bone and self
until I get to where I am essential
until I get to where I am

Food doesn't tempt me anymore
because I am so full of energy and sense
I can even pass by water now
because I am living off the parts of me
that I don't need anymore.

I could feel the slow drips of pain before,
swirling inside where my lungs should have been.
Now I'm clean inside.

I threw out hundreds of things that I didn't need anymore.
All my dresses and bras
stupid things like jeans and socks.
Most days I float through the house naked
so I can see myself in the mirrors.
I have hundreds of them everywhere
and they talk back to me all the time.
They keep me true and pure.
They make sure I'm still here.

When I knew what I had to do
I took all my notebooks, all my manuscripts
and ate them page by page
so I could take my words with me.

I can finally control my life and even death
and I will die slowly like steam escaping from a pipe.

This is my greatest performance
and all of the actresses who won my parts will say
how wonderful to let yourself go that mad,
how wonderful to go on this kind of journey
and not care if you come back to tell the story.

I scratch words on the walls now
so people will visit this museum and know
how someone like me ends up like this
(they'll say there is art in here somewhere).

Everything that comes out of me is sacred
every tear, every cough, every piss.
Everything that comes off of me is sacred
every fingernail, every eyelash, every hair.

Starvation is sacred and I scratch my bones
against the windows at night.
I light candles and feel myself evaporate.
This body is a little church, a little temple.
You can't see me now because I've gone inside.

My family doesn't call anymore.
My friends don't call anymore.
They can't hurt me anymore.
Only I can.

And that's okay.
I don't need them anymore.
I can live off of me.
I speak to me.
I dance with me.
I eat me.

When they find me, I'll have a little smile on my face
and they'll wrap me in a white cloth and lay me in the ground
and say they don't understand.
But I do.
I don't hurt anymore.
I'm not lonely anymore.
I'm not sad, I'm not pretty anymore.
I made it through.

I feel so holy and clean when I stretch out on the floor and sing.
Sometimes god comes in for a minute and says I'm doing fine, I'm almost there.

Every day I get a little closer to vanishing.
Some days I can't stand up because the room moves under my feet
and I smile because I'm almost there,
I'm almost an angel.

One day when I am thin enough
I'll go outside
fluttering my hands so I can fly
and I will be so slight that I will pass through all of you
silently
like wind"

Beautiful Stranger

2011-04-17T08:29:00.000-05:00

"I looked into your eyes
And my world came tumbling down
You're the devil in disguise
That's why I'm singing this song
To know you is to love you
You're everywhere I go
And everybody knows

To love you is to be part of you
I've paid for you with tears
And swallowed all my pride

Beautiful stranger..."

-Madonna "Beautiful Stranger"

I heard this song while shopping yesterday. As I was shopping, some of the clerks and a few patrons commented on my appearance. They said I looked beautiful, had such pretty makeup, where did I get my shirt, etc. I am not used to compliments, first of all, and don't know how to take them. Secondly, I cannot reconcile what they see with what I see. Think of the last really fat and unkempt woman you saw. That I what I see when I look in the mirror. That is the image of myself that I hold in my mind. I do my makeup because I love makeup, but I don't see it as anything more than a mask covering up the real me. And clothes are awesome, but they are just hiding and trying to contain all the fat on me. So I wonder when I receive compliments: Who is this beautiful stranger that they are speaking to? She can't be me. It is impossible.

Also, my sick mind managed to twist the music into a song about ana. Speaking of which, I have lost 4.6 pounds since Wednesday. Cutting out the noodles in my Lean Cuisines has really worked. Also have doubled my efforts at exercise which is helping. I am hoping to get back in the garden today and plant some rose bushes and other flowers. Burning all the calories that I can in a day.

My boyfriend is not coming up today because he made plans with his co-workers and was unwilling to change them. That is fine. I have plans too. I plan to work in the garden, exercise, starve and do some stuff on the computer. I miss him but there is some relief in knowing that I will not have to eat out today. Yesterday, with my mom, we went to a Mexican place she wanted to try and she did not make a big deal out of me not eating. It was refreshing.

All in all, my mood is good and I am happy with the weight loss. Seeing a loss on the scale always makes me feel good. The challenge is to maintain this losing streak and get to my still undefined goal.

Irrational

2011-04-14T09:18:00.000-05:00

"Like the naked leads the blind.
I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind.
Sucker love I always find,
Someone to bruise and leave behind.

All alone in space and time.
There's nothing here but what here's mine.
Something borrowed, something blue.
Every me and every you.
Every me and every you,
Every Me..."

-Placebo "Every Me, Every You"

Well, once again my body disappointed me. The scale wavered about .4 of a pound and then shot up to the same weight as the past three days. My next course of action is to cut out the carbs in my Lean Cuisines and just eat the protein, strawberries and nothing else. Since running made every part of me hurt, I can only extend my walks to boost my exercise. All of this I will do without even really thinking about it.

In therapy yesterday, my therapist questioned how rational I am at the moment. She believes that I am so deep in the disease that I can't see life clearly. She pointed to the decisions I have been making, and noted that they show a marked lack of concern for myself. And she is right. While I knew I was heading into the ana side of things, since in my mind that is how one loses weight, I did not anticipate how much it would poison my thoughts and how it would take total control of me. Most of what I think about is how I can lose more weight, what my goal is, how I can trim more calories from my day while still having enough food to take pills with, etc. I started to think back through all the years of the hell of adolescence, the divorce years, childhood, and I am not sure if I can come up with a time when I cared about myself. I always cared what others thought of me, but didn't think much of myself. It makes sense that I have destroyed so much of my skin due to self-injury when the fact that I don't give a damn about myself is brought to light. It also makes sense with the eating disorder. I know all of the risks well, but that doesn't stop me. Part of it is the power of the disease and part is not caring about myself.

So, I am irrational. They talk about that in OA, but I never gave it much thought, just merely agreed blandly and moved on from there. It is time that I examine this irrational thinking and see how I can once again regain control of the disease, if I ever had control to begin with.

On another note, during an argument with my mother, she said I had a flabby ass. She is a true bitch and goes for the jugular when fighting. Now, every time I look in the mirror, I turn and look at myself, and that part of me jumps out as a huge flaw. I have other spots on me that I fixate on, but she gave me a new one. Thanks, Mom.

Also, I retreated from my ultimatum I gave my boyfriend and asked him to come up to see me. But he can't, he's already made plans with friends for the weekend (must be nice to have friends). I wish I had never said anything. I am so stupid. I hate myself.

"When flesh meets metal, all that breaks is the fist"

2011-04-12T09:27:00.000-05:00

So, I got up this morning and did what I call my "dead weight" weigh-in, and was appalled. I was expecting a loss, but the numbers stayed the same. With all that I did yesterday, as mentioned in the previous post, I was expecting at least a pound, but I got nothing. As a result, the binge monster came out of hiding and I ate my planned food for the day plus more. Then I purged a few times, felt a little better but also felt like I had shot myself in the foot for caloric intake for the day. As long I eat nothing else, which is the norm for me, I shouldn't gain anything from my binge this morning.

I need to get serious about this and not let emotional binges happen like this morning. Just because I am angry or bored or lonely or whatever doesn't give me a licence to eat. I have to rigidly adhere to my 400 calorie (or less) a day plan. Otherwise, my goal weight will just become a cruel joke. I may have to cut back more on the calories, but that decision will have to wait for a week or so while I get settled into my routine.

Really sore from the run yesterday, so I am not sure if I should push myself to run again today. My right ankle hurts pretty bad, but if I run with the pressure on the inside of my foot it might be okay. I will still walk with my dog, of course, but I am unsure about the run. Maybe I built up some muscle yesterday that I didn't have before and that is why I had no weight change this morning. Or maybe I just need to stop deluding myself and work harder.

I want to be thin so badly. You can tell from my user pic that I am not near goal weight. Every time I look in the mirror I think, "Fat, ugly, fat" among other things. I cannot do much about the ugly side of things, but I am doing something about the fat part.

I have my OA meeting tonight and I am leading. Kind of funny that someone who is neck deep in disease will be leading the meeting, but I signed up for it. In some ways, I have left OA behind, despite the fact that I am going to meetings. They say to keep bringing your body to the solution, so at least I am doing that. There in body but absent emotionally. I don't know why I keep going, except for the fact that there is nowhere else to go.

Accomplishments!

2011-04-11T17:18:00.000-05:00

"I want to use you and abuse you
I want to know what's inside of you"
-Marilyn Manson "Sweet Dreams"

I am shaky after all the activity today, but I feel good about it. It feels nice to be actually tired, instead of depressed and tired.

First off, I ran a mile today for the first time since sixth grade. I was thirsty and sore afterwards, but felt good about what I did. I then did my normal walk with Audrey, and felt great the whole time. The "glow" that runners always talk about. I was of the mind that running was only for running away from something, heh. But after today, I plan to make running a daily activity, working up to 2 miles, plus my walk. I feel like the running will be the extra kick I need to drop these stubborn pounds I want to get rid of.

I also did a lot of gardening today. I fed all the shrubs out front, fed the grass in the front and the back, and planted new basil, thyme and rosemary plants. Seems odd for someone who is ana to plant things to cook with, but I love herbs- the scent of them, watching them thrive in the heat of a steamy southern summer. Next weekend I plan to plant some new rose bushes in the front, and a small flower garden in the back where used to grow tomatoes. Speaking of the weekend...

This weekend kind of sucked. I had my boyfriend up, as usual, and decided that I needed to have a chat with him about my distaste for his beard, his apartment search and other things. The conversation ruined the weekend. While I managed to tactfully present all of my issues, I came up with a solution that will be both good and devastating for me. I laid out two tasks I want him to achieve- an either/or situation- and said that until he accomplished one of the tasks, he is not allowed to come up and see me. I will miss him, but I think we need the time apart to make adjustments (I have some changes to make as well, trust me). I will be glad to see him again, when the time comes, but for now I will have to live for myself. I am not very good at that. We'll see how it all goes, but I am sure that the time will come where I will hate myself for making the suggestion.

For now, however, I am going to rest because I am wiped out, and sip on some Powerade Zero to replenish all the lost electrolytes from sweating outside today. Ciao!

And if you have to leave...

2011-04-07T09:33:00.000-05:00

"I want to, I want to be someone else or I'll explode
Floating upon the surface for
The birds, the birds, the birds

You want me, well fucking well come and find me
I'll be waiting with a gun and a pack of sandwiches
And nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

You want me, well, come on and break the door down
You want me, fucking come on and break the door down
I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready..."

- Radiohead "Talk Show Host"

This morning I had a fight with my boyfriend about the eating disorder (again). I made the mistake of telling him that I had lost 1.6 pounds from yesterday, and that I was happy about it. He said he wasn't sure how much longer he could watch me starve like this. I said, "So leave me." First of all, he doesn't watch because he isn't even fucking here. Second, my family, most of which is closer to me than he is, leaves me alone about the eating disorder. Why can't he see that I have a goal in mind, a weight I am happy with, and that I will stop when I get there? This May will be (or won't be) our third anniversary. I have given up drinking (one year anniversary is this month!), amphetamines, and self-injury. I offer up these changes and they seem to mean nothing. He always focuses on the negative. He said I was choosing the eating disorder over him, and my response was to say that if he broke up with me I wouldn't be the one making the choice. We ended the conversation resentfully. I don't know what to do about the situation anymore. There are many things that I wish he would change, but he doesn't change.

With my therapist yesterday, I talked about how I wish someone would step in and save me. So much of the music I listen to at the moment has to do with wishing, and being saved, being brought to life. I feel so dead inside, and I don't know what to do anymore. Most of the appointment was spent catching her up on what I have been up to since November (the last time I saw her). I hope she can help me find solutions to the problems in my life that haunt me. I realize it is no one's job to save me. I must save myself "from the nothing I've become".

Still smarting from the argument. I would hate to lose him. But, as I said in previous post, wouldn't it be kinder to let him go, and be free of me and all my bullshit? I will let him decide what he wants to do. I have known of many relationships that lasted through addiction, eating disorders, et al. This could last through my eating disorder days, but it is up to him now. If he doesn't want to stick around, then fine. Then I will truly be alone, and, in some ways, have even less to live for than before. "What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end."

"And if you have to leave

I wish you would just leave

Because your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone."

The you I knew is fading away

2011-04-05T09:37:00.000-05:00

So, I am back on track. My diet is one Lean Cuisine that is less than 300 calories and some strawberries. I am taking the magnesium and potassium supplements plus a multivitamin. I am convinced that once I reach a weight I am happy with, I will be able to stop and return to "abstinent" living. Despite the fact that there are binge foods in the house, I know I will be able to avoid them. Once I get centered in the ana way of living, it is hard to get me to budge, even if I am hungry.

I live such a divided life. Part of me, the sane part of me, knows that what I am doing is unhealthy, that the goal I want to reach is unhealthy. The sick side, which is stronger and louder than the sanity, strokes me and tells me it will all be okay as long as I don't eat. I mean, it is sick to want to see one's bones. I know that. I just can't apply the knowledge to the darkness in my heart. While I was living abstinently, my head and heart were connected for a short time, but that connection has been severed. I am not sure how I will restore the connection.

My life is divided in other ways. On the weekends, when my boyfriend comes up to stay with me, I do eat in front of him. He knows exactly what I am doing, so I don't know why I keep up the farce. I guess I just don't want to argue about it during the short time I get to see him. He knows I won't stop. Monday through Friday are mine to starve as I wish. Saturday and Sunday I act as normally as possible. Sometimes I go overboard with the freedom I allow myself while he is here and eat more than I should, but this coming weekend I will have it under control.

I don't know why I always seem to be on a path of self-destruction. I try to think back and remember if I was always this way, and I am not sure. I think some of the experiences I have had have helped to reprogram me over time. In one way or another, the self-destruction is self-preservation, so I don't completely lose my mind and destroy myself. I have attempted to overdose multiple times, the last being the deadliest. If they hadn't found me, I would have died, and it was the second time I woke up in an ICU. In a way, the self-destruction gives me something to live for because other reasons that people list off to me don't mean much to me.

What is wrong with me? I don't mean the multiple diagnosis definition. Did little parts of me die every time I tried to kill myself? I don't know but I feel this emptiness inside that is hard to describe. A deadness, a heaviness that fills me instead of life. I wonder if the therapist I am seeing tomorrow can sort out someone as fucked up as I am. I wonder if there is anyone who can revive the shell of a person I have grown to be.

"Save me from the nothing I have become.
Bring me to life."

Bad-ass and behave, please

2011-04-02T09:58:00.000-05:00

"You're skin
Oh yeah, you're skin and bones
Turn it into something beautiful
And you know,
You know I love you so
You know I love you so

I swam across
I jumped across for you
Oh what a thing to do
'Cause you were all yellow

I drew a line
I drew a line for you
Oh what a thing to do
And it was all yellow

You're skin
Oh yeah you're skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
And you know
For you I'd bleed myself dry
For you I'd bleed myself dry

It's true, look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine

Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
And all the things that you do"-Coldplay "Yellow"

I wish that I could stay fully hidden in the eating disorder, but there are cracks that allow a little of life to seep in and inflict damage. I ate around 600 calories this morning, double what I would normally eat. I have things to do and don't want a blood sugar headache to slow me down. I am trying to maintain a persona of outward darkness to show some of the darkness from within. This is not a goth thing, this is an artistic expression of my feelings. I use makeup, nail polish and clothing to accomplish this. I may look intimidating when I go to OA meetings or the store. I have been told that my normal facial expression, that I feel is blank, looks pissed off. *shrug* Whatever. So I look pissed off then. At least people won't fuck with me. I want to look dark and beautiful and delicate, like black lace. Diet, the way I dress, and the way I carry myself will accomplish this.

I finally managed to accomplish some worthwhile things this morning. I cleaned the bathroom, put away laundry, mopped, et al. I am beginning to feel the medication adjustments working. Took long enough. I still feel like I could just lay down and sleep the day away, but I don't really want to. There is more to be done in my apartment, and I want to accomplish more. And I have plenty of time, almost the whole day in fact, before I have company later.

On that note, I am having issues with the relationship I am currently in. I believe all the problems are my doing. I wonder if I am even capable of being in a healthy relationship. I am so focused on the cycle of self-destruction, so focused especially on the eating disorder, that I wonder if I am able to be a true partner to anyone. Should I set him free from the prison of this relationship? I am very unsure of what he wants. He seems burdened, so burdened by me. I don't want to lose him, but I also want to lose the weight. Maybe therapy will help me manage the relationship better. I have my first appointment in ages this coming Wednesday. Keeping my fingers crossed.

"As I live and breathe
You have killed me
You have killed me
Yes I walk around somehow
But you have killed me
You have killed me

And there is no point saying this again
there is no point saying this again
But I forgive you, I forgive you
Always I do forgive you."

Your face-saving promises whispered like prayers

2011-03-31T09:40:00.000-05:00

"Take a look at my body
Look at my hands
There's so much here
That I don't understand

Your face-saving promises
Whispered like prayers
I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

Contempt loves the silence
It thrives in the dark
With fine-winding tendrils
That strangle the heart

They say that promises
Sweeten the blow
But I don't need them
No, I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

I'm a slow dying flower
Frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour
And untouchable

Oh, I need
The darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this

I need
A lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel sweet
Love of my life
Oh, I need this

I'm a slow dying flower
Frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour
And untouchable

Do you remember the way
That you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness
I loved and adored?"-Natalie Merchant "My Skin"

After two days of my one meal plan, I have lost some weight. Water weight, sure, but at least the numbers are going down. I will get into the actual weight loss soon enough. I feel stronger already. The binge monster has shown up the past couple days, but I have gritted my teeth and breathed through it. I was incorrect before when I said I thought I had lost the ability to feel hunger. Boy, do feel hunger. It is not too unpleasant, and can be made to go away with some gum and a diet soda, but it still sucks. One of the prices one must pay to live this way of life.

On that note, I have OA tonight. I am not letting on terribly much during the meetings that I am back in the disease again. None who are there, all compulsive overeaters, could not offer me any advice anyways. I don't know why I am still going. I guess, in a way, I know that it is the solution. I am willing to live in the solution they offer, once I am at my desired weight. I am not like most eating disordered people where there isn't ever a low enough weight for them. I will stop. Just not yet. Just not now. The disease protects me and gives me a goal to work toward. I will have to figure something out in the meantime to fill my life once I am thin enough.

I went to visit relatives yesterday and had a good time. No one made a fuss over me not eating anything. It was refreshing. One relative commented that I was skinny, but I disregarded it since she is at least a size 18, if not bigger. She was on the HCG diet (hormones and 500 calories a day, basically anorexia supervised by a doctor) and had lost a LOT of weight, but apparently does not know how to maintain weight loss. What a waste of time and money.

I wish I could communicate more effectively in my relationship. I feel like all the problems that happen are because of me, like all of it is my fault. I know that I am tough to care about, and make it even tougher by throwing in stuff like self-destructive behaviors. I just wish I knew a way out of the problems. Hopefully, therapy will help. I need to make the appointment, but I am finding it difficult to pick up the phone.

Anywho, that is about all for now. Thanks for reading! :-)

Only to find you all alone, curled up with machines

2011-03-29T09:39:00.000-05:00

"It started as a joke
Just one of my larks to see
If somehow I could reach you so

I swam into your shores
Through an open window
Only to find you all alone

Curled up with machines
Now it seems you're slipping
Out of the land of the living

Just take a closer look
Take a closer look
At what it is that's really haunting you

I have to trust you'll know
This digital ghost
But I fear there's only so much time
'cause the you I knew is fading away"

-Tori Amos "Digital Ghost"

So, I failed to do my one meal yesterday. Without thought or provocation, the binge monster took hold and I found myself eating tapenade on pita and three cookies. I feel like a failure, but know that today is a new day. I will save myself from boredom or loneliness when they weaken me by doing chores or something.

Accomplishing this is so important to me. Its importance outshines just about everything in my life. I surround myself with so much thinspiration, so much mental focus and keep falling on my face. If I can make it through day one, finally have a day one, I know that it will get easier.

Despite the shitty weather, I am thinking of walking later on in the day when it is warmer. I would like to do more with my day but still don't feel strong enough to do so. The medication adjustment is starting to work, and I don't have as many grim, suicidal thoughts, though I do still have them occasionally. Oddly enough, the eating disorder is holding me together, giving me a reason to get up in the morning, giving me a reason to make it through the day, giving me something on which to focus my energies.

I don't have much else to say. Still musing upon the idea of escaping reality through the mind, i.e. Sucker Punch. Still planning to call my therapist to make an appointment. Listening to Marilyn Manson and Tori Amos this morning, oldies but goodies.

I wish I knew how to most effectively fill the void that food seems to fill in me. I want to escape the food. I don't want to be normal anymore. I just want to be free of the food.

"Some of them want to be abused"

Kiss the fist that strikes you

2011-03-28T10:51:00.000-05:00

"Stand up
You've got to manage
I won't sympathize
Anymore.

And if you complain once more
You'll meet an army of me
And if you complain once more
You'll meet an army of me

You're alright
There's nothing wrong
Self-sufficience please!
And get to work.

And if you complain once more
You'll meet an army of me
And if you complain once more
You'll meet an army of me
Army of me

You're on your own now
We won't save you
Your rescue-squad
Is too exhausted

And if you complain once more
You'll meet an army of me"

-Bjork "Army of Me"

"I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along"
-Evanescence "My Immortal"

Forgive all the lyrics, but several songs spoke to me this morning. Starting out another week, feeling tired and defeated. I am planning to restrict today as long as the binge monster doesn't show up. I hope that it doesn't because I am so tired of vomiting.

I saw Sucker Punch yesterday, and am listening to the soundtrack right now. It had a lot to do with escaping reality through creating imaginary worlds for yourself. Finding freedom from the reality of a mental hospital and pending lobotomy. It was a visually impressive movie, with a great soundtrack. Kind of want to go see it again.

I need to get back on track. I need to not be so weak. I will feel stronger once I get my food in control again. I always feel thinner when I don't eat. I am putting a lot of faith into the eating disorder. The church of ana. Ha ha. Something I realized, though, is that when I delved into anorexia last year, I had Vyvanse (stimulant ADHD medication like Adderall) and it made it very easy to not eat. I will have to be extra strong since I will have nothing to cushion the hunger. Sugar-free gum and Diet Dr. Pepper will have to be my weapons against it.

While I may feel like I have purpose now, I am not happy inside. I don't mean in a depression kind of way. I am discontent, even with the eating disorder. There are so many aspects of my life I would change with a snap of my fingers. So many things... and I don't know if even then I would be happy. Maybe I will always be looking for that one thing to quiet the restless heart that resides in me. And maybe I will always be alone, except for the weekends. Always the weekends. The cycle of love that tortures me.

On that note, I am planning on going back to therapy. I know that OA by itself won't do the trick. I know that now, but find it hard to accept. I was told, and believed, for so long that the Twelve Steps were the answer to any problem in life. They might be for someone who is well mentally but for me there is too much damage for the program to clean up. Maybe therapy will quiet my restless heart and cut through the searing pain of memories that play out like crime scene photos.

Going to try to get some reading done today and clean a little. I may accomplish nothing. I don't really care one way or the other.

"save me from the nothing I've become"

"Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I travel the world
And the seven seas--
Everybody's looking for something.
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused."

"Day is dawning, skin's crawling"

2011-03-25T11:06:00.000-05:00

"A friend in needs a friend indeed,
A friend who'll tease is better ,
Our thoughts compressed,
Which makes us blessed,
And makes for stormy weather,

Day is dawning, skin's crawling

Day is dawning, skin's crawling

Day is dawning, skin's crawling
Pure morning

Pure morning

Pure morning"

-Placebo "Pure Morning"

Yesterday, I was planning on starting my day normally. Well, ana normally. The binge-crazed side of me ate a bunch of weird things, plus my planned breakfast. After I finished my coffee and was having a cigarette outside, I was blessed with severe nausea. A freebie for bulimics. Ha ha.

Today I did successfully start my day out. No binging, no vomiting and a roughly 300-400 calorie breakfast. You see, I have to eat in the morning to take my medicine and supplements of potassium and magnesium, plus a multivitamin. I plan to rest most of the day, as I know that day one of my diet will be hard. I feel shaky, and know that my body is missing the large doses of sugar I have been feeding it. I have my supply of sugarless gum and diet soda ready. I can do this. I will do this.

I had a talk with my boyfriend this morning about choices, and how he is not patient with me when I choose to do things that are self-destructive. As I explained to him, I don't have a choice. I feel fat. In my head, I am divided. Part of me knows that I am a healthy weight and part of me feels like an elephant. I have been wearing "fat clothes" (i.e. baggy t-shirts and pull-on pants) the past few days because of my feelings of fatness. In my heart, I know that I have more weight to lose, that being eating-disordered is the only safety net I have. What would I do without it? I would self-destruct in some other manner. I am not strong enough to face the mountains of emotion and bad memories that haunt me when I try to be healthy. I need therapy, and wish I could afford it. I may try to work that out financially, but for now I have this.

I purged so much yesterday that I did something to mess up my throat and it hurts when I swallow. Probably just inflamed my esophagus, and doing without the purging will heal it up. Purging is so addictive though. Sounds gross to normal people, but it gives a rush similar to self-injury, a high of sorts. You feel euphoric afterwards. But I want to move away from the bulimia and towards the ana side of things again. I have weight to lose, and I will lose it.

I am getting back into the disease that released 65 pounds of weight from my body. I would like to lose 20 to 30 more pounds. I want to see my bones. I want to be nothing, frail and fragile like a doll. Maybe when I weigh less I will be happy this time. Maybe I will lose enough this time.

At the same time, I want the part of me that is destructive to turn into a side that loves and accepts me for who I am. Maybe someday that will happen. I can only hope.

"Love, love, love

I want your love

You know that I want you

And you know that I need you

I want your bad romance."

You could cry your soul out in these rooms

2011-03-23T10:39:00.000-05:00

Just a quick post before I take to the bed again for another day.

I keep considering my options. Suicide is, as someone close to me put it, a waste of everyone's time. But I feel like I am dying inside, like a dark void is getting vastly bigger and is seeking to mindlessly consume me. As an OA friend, who is sick in a similar fashion, put it, death seems like such a sweet option but there are too many things that would be left behind to make it a viable one.

I think of alcohol. I am 11 months sober, and have considered breaking it, one of the last things I have to be proud of, just so I can pass out and not feel.

I think of cutting or burning myself. That would just land me in the hospital and possibly get me committed. Also, one who is close to me said he is not willing to return to a life of me covered in bandages. Not a good choice at all.

I think of abusing one of my medications, just to sleep and feel some nothingness, some peace, something besides the pain. But that would make me run out early and leave me susceptible to panic attacks.

So I focus in on the eating disorders. People tell me I'm thin. People tell me I'm healthy. Some of my OA friends even comment on my supposed beauty. All I see are numbers on the scale that could be lower. Thin is definitely not well, in my case. I look in the mirror and see flaws when I am looking for something fill the void. Do I turn to the eating disorders? Can I hide in the sanctuary of illness and make myself not hurt so much?

I have a comfortable life. Don't have to work, not much upkeep for where I live, have someone special (who is growing tired of my disease), have an awesome cat and dog, etc. It seems like an easy life, but it is not. All the hours to fill and no coping skills to fill them with. Over a decade of disease and poorly adjusted medication makes the time pass slowly. It makes giving up seem so tempting.

I have a comfortable place to live. Huge bedroom and living room, massive bathroom. And yet I could lay in bed and cry what is left of my soul out on soft pillows. Why can't I get it together? I had it together... had abstinence, had freedom from self-injury, had freedom from self-destructive tendencies. How did I lose it all so quickly?

I fear I may lose everything I value. And where would I be then?

Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything

2011-03-22T17:04:00.000-05:00

"I wear this crown of shit
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
the feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become?
my sweetest friend
Everyone I know
goes away in the end
You could have it all
my empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt"
-Nine Inch Nails

I don't see my doctor until Thursday, and I am dying to see her to get my antidepressant increased. I spend the days in bed, planning my comeback. I keep telling myself that tomorrow I'll get it right and get something done. But instead I spend the day napping on and off, with memories of the past surfacing to lash me with pain. The rape that stole my virginity. All the violence I have been both a witness to and subjected to. Fear and pain. Mountains of fear and pain that surface to beat me back down again and again. Am I tired of fighting it? Fuck yes.

Thoughts pass through my mind to just give up entirely. Not to actively kill myself, but just to give in to the sickness. To finally let go. What kind of a shit life do I have to fight for anyways?

Another part of me, the eating disordered side, is actually holding me together. I am still attending OA meetings, but I am there in body only. My emotional state is shot to hell. I feel like running, escaping all the pain, all the memories through anorexia again. I keep telling myself that I have 30 more pounds to lose. I keep telling myself that it would be the last time I would subject my body to the stress of the disease. But I don't know anymore. I don't know about anything anymore.

"Starvation is sacred and I scratch my bones

against the windows at night.

I light candles and feel myself evaporate.

This body is a little church, a little temple.

You can't see me now because I've gone inside.

My family doesn't call anymore.

My friends don't call anymore.

You can't hurt me anymore.

They can't hurt me anymore.

Only I can.

And that's okay.

I don't need them anymore.

I can live off of me.

I speak to me.

I dance with me.

I eat me."

Welcome home

2011-03-11T08:01:00.000-06:00

"Applying willpower to this compulsion is like applying an antibiotic to a viral infection. It will never have any effect... I am not weak from lack of willpower. I am strong because I am fighting (the disease) and with my Higher Power on my side, there's no way the disease can win."
- Voices of Recovery, pg. 71

I am out of the hospital. I got out a couple of days early because my doctor could see that the structure of inpatient treatment was hampering my recovery. As a result, I am still adjusting to the medication changes that were made in the hospital, which were drastic, and sort of feel like shit. Depression shows up in me as feeling numb and my thoughts are dark. Despite my best efforts, as soon as I was home in my own surroundings, thoughts of self-injury surfaced again. The thoughts are staying in my head and not manifesting themselves as injuries on my body, but I feel like the sick part of my mind is attacking me in every way it can.

While in the hospital, I struggled with my eating disorder. Some days I restricted and some days I purged just to be purging. At home, I am not actively doing these things, though the depression has cut off my appetite. I struggle to eat at all. Food has no appeal to me, and feels like dead weight in my stomach. At the moment, I am being gentle with myself. I am not trying to quit smoking and I am not trying to be abstinent. I have removed the pressures from myself so that I am able to make it through the medication adjustment safely.

Will the new medicine work? Will I adjust and feel centered and hopeful again? Have I found the medication cocktail that will keep the demons of mental illness from consuming me? I don't know. All I know is that I have not given up yet. I am still fighting, and that is what counts. For my own safety I have to put other goals aside for the time being and just allow myself to be.

"Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface"

2011-03-01T08:10:00.000-06:00

So, today I am going to be admitted to the hospital, again. My bulimia is out of control, binging and purging upwards of four times a day. I self-injured last night to cope with pain and severe agitation. I am out of control. How did this happen and so quickly? How did I watch my life descend once again into the madness without question and without concern?

I feel so overloaded with the quitting smoking, the maintenance of my abstinence, my shaky spiritual condition. I took control of my life again as I started to see the decline, and thus lost control. One thing I must consider while in the hospital is what my priorities are. Another thing is my medication. Something is not right with the current cocktail I am on and I will have a doctor to daily monitor my condition. Maybe while I am in the hospital, I can try to turn my will and life over to the care of God, and let things go. Releasing control of my life scares me, but I haven't been doing such a great job of managing on my own. It's not that I haven't been praying, but I have not put energy toward the goals set forth in the prayer. God is a partner to work alongside, not a mystical being that will zap me and make me well.

One thing that occurred to me when deciding to go into the hospital is the realization that I will never be healthy. I will always be on medication to keep the demons of mental illnesses at bay. I will always be a recovering bulimic/anorexic and a recovering self-injurer. I will never get one hundred percent better. While I have been playing the game of being mentally ill for so long, I never accepted my powerlessness over the situation. I always took the medications thinking that the medications meant I was in control of the disease. I now see that is not the case. It simply means that I am managing the disease. The disease has been there all along, and now is rearing its ugly head.

I feel like a bad person. I feel like a failure. I couldn't cut it to use the tools in OA, couldn't quit smoking. I see these as failures. It is hard to accept the fact that I am not meant to get well on my schedule, but on a schedule that is not determined by me.

Everything is hard to accept right now. I just need to get to the safe haven of the hospital and sort these things out in a place where I can't hurt myself. Wish me luck, and, if you are of faith, pray for me. I need it.

You think this is tragedy? She thinks this is fun.

2011-02-12T06:29:00.022-06:00

"Metal Eye"

"secretly

I'm dead inside.

You know what you're doing

You know what this is about

You look in her metal eye

and kiss her platinum mouth

like frozen chrome

and mercury fire

you kiss her mouth

as cold as a prize

She's a dying machine

so bless her skin

and bless the nightmare

she's living in

open your mouth

all that comes is desire

she wants to die

with her eyelashes on fire

She hides her scar

and turns her ring around

She hides her wires

as she goes underground

She knows what she's doing.

She's almost done.

You think this is tragedy?

She thinks this is fun.

I'm dead inside"

-The Golden Palominos

I have been having a rough few days. I've been practicing my disease of bulimia. Today, I binged and purged no less than four times. So much food and it is so gross. But it is my latest rebellion. Perhaps not my last rebellion, but it is in reaction to two specific things: I'm getting a sponsor and quitting smoking.

Most people just get a little pissy or mopey when they quit. I fantasize about hurting myself, killing myself, weighing next to nothing again, etc. All because of fucking cigarettes. I am going to quit. I have the power to quit smoking but lack the ability to balance shaky abstinence with the quitting. So, I just figure I will take it easy with the whole eating disorder thing for a bit and focus on the initial quitting phase of smoking. By "take it easy" I don't mean all day purge-fests like today, but I do mean I won't be as hard on myself about slip-ups and being so diligent about writing down all my food.

The rush of a purge is so gratifying. It is almost a drug by itself. You feel warm inside, and comforted, and the head rush of endorphins (sp?) is hard to describe. At the same time, it is something so gross. I mean, purging is just a pretty way of saying "vomiting". And the process is not pleasant either.

I had a crisis last night, where I could, if it were possible to feel such a sensation, literally taste how good it would feel to cut myself. I fantasized about it to the point that I was getting up to dismantle a razor and get started, but I instead picked up the phone and called my boyfriend. We fought, but it got my mind off of the self-injury. I am seriously considering going into the hospital if these thoughts and behaviors persist. I am beginning to think that I am a danger to myself.

But, I have two important things to do before I can get help. One is the Valentine's trip to Mentone with my boyfriend and the other is meeting with and getting a sponsor. I am very nervous about sponsorship. It seems like it will lock me into the program and I will be under more pressure to be abstinent. I don't know how I will react to it. If the present is any indicator, then the results will be poor.

Listening to Enigma's "Gravity of Love" and feeling a glowing appreciation for my boyfriend. Yes, we fought last night, but he has brought so much joy into my life. He is someone that I love without reservation.

I don't know what this post is about. It is about relapse, but it is about fighting, too. I get battle-weary sometimes but I keep going. "The road to recovery can be trudged, but it also can be walked, skipped or run."

Pure Hell

2011-02-07T19:50:00.000-06:00

"You want three wishes
You want never bitter
and all delicious,
and then one you're saving for a rainy day
if your lover ever takes his love away."
~The Pierces, "Three Wishes"

Quitting. Smoking. Is. Pure. Hell.

I am in a chaos half the time. My emotions and thought patterns are erratic. I am lonely and bereft most of the time. I am using the gum and patches. It shouldn't be this hard.

And I am terrified of gaining weight. Terrified. I always set these goals for myself, to banish these self-destructive addictions and maladies, and set the bar almost too high for me to reach. Maybe quitting smoking and trying to abstain from eating disorders is too much at once, but all I can do is try. I can't keep smoking. It's just as much of a killer as bulimia and anorexia.

But if I gain weight while quitting, will I switch back to anorexia and/or Vyvanse? So tempting... it could happen.

Relapse, a part of my recovery

2011-02-03T10:43:00.000-06:00

"We should not let our fears hold us back from pursuing our hopes."
John F. Kennedy

Yesterday was both wonderful and terrible for me. I'll start with the bad and end with the good.

I woke up hungry at 4:30 in the morning. Part of this has to do with the nicotine patches, which I am no longer using. I saw the box of goodies I had bought for my boyfriend for Valentine's Day, and said, "Hell, I'll just eat one of those and buy another box." I had one. It was so good that I had another. And another until I had finished the box, clocking in at roughly 1000 calories. I felt horribly guilty, but decided to take it in stride and eat my planned abstinent breakfast and have my morning coffee. By the time I had finished the breakfast and coffee, I was so full that I was in physical pain. To add to this, I was emotionally upset after an unpleasant exchange with my mother. I crawled to the bathroom and purged. It felt dangerously good to do so. After this, I laid back down and decided that I would not eat the rest of the day to make up for the calories I had consumed. After a long day, my Higher Power put the sane thought into my head to have a little something to eat. By this point, I was so emotionally unstable that I was considering throwing all of my abstinence away. I had broken my OA abstinence, why not drink and mutilate myself as well? I started to visualize and imagine how good the self-injury would feel, how soothing the bandaging would be. I was in a dangerous place.

But, like I said, God intervened. I did not drink and I did not self-injure. I still have my nine months of recovery there. However, I start over at day one for my abstinence from bulimia and anorexia as I indulged in both behaviors yesterday. While it is disheartening to have to start over, I am not ashamed, nor do I feel like a failure. The relapse indicates I am not working the program properly in some fashion, and that gives me cause to read more literature and promotes growth in some manner. I am taking the pressure off of myself to quit smoking at this time. It is too much for me handle with my fragile abstinence being renewed.

The good part of my day was spent with my sister and new nephew. I was there for several hours, helping with diaper changes, watching him while she got some chores done. He is truly a little miracle. Every time he gripped my finger with one of his little hands, it brought me joy. I really enjoy being around my sister. She and I are talking more openly to one another and it feels good to be building a relationship with her. We talked about everything yesterday, and it was nice to hear some advice from a fresh perspective. I love my sister and nephews dearly.

Everything is back in its right place for now. I feel much stronger today and more like myself. I can recover. I can do this one day at a time.

Behind the grey cloud

2011-01-31T13:49:00.000-06:00

"Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be."
-Abraham Lincoln

So, today I smoked my "last cigarette" and put on a patch. This is attempt number... not sure of the number... to quit smoking. I loved to smoke. I saw the experience of getting to go outside and view the mountains as hourly treats or breaks from what I was doing in the house. Now, as the patch burns away on my arm (I have very sensitive skin), I don't have those breaks. All I have got is busy work to distract myself and, most importantly, God helping me through this day. If I can overcome self-mutilation, drinking, drug use, and, finally, anorexia/bulimia, I can overcome my love of smoking. My addiction is more accurate a description.

I started smoking in my early college years. I was one of those kids who was willing to try anything. At first, I did it because I was bored. Then it became an addiction that led me to drive to Georgia to buy cartons since I was not old enough to in Alabama. I wasn't smoking for fun or just at parties anymore, I was taking breaks from writing papers or being on the phone to have a smoke. I smoked much to the disgust of a couple boyfriends. I've smoked to calm down and smoked to wake up. I smoked when I was hungry and after a full meal. I smoked after exercise. I smoked a whole fucking lot.

But it is time. As I continue down this road of recovery, I need to address all the problems in my life and allow change to happen. If I continue to control hunger and wakefulness with nicotine, I will never fully be present for my life. I have to end the addiction now. What a joy and a blessing that I have the Twelve Steps and OA for support during what could prove to be a very challenging time.

Not much of a post, but I thought I would say something. Besides, without all my "breaks" I am looking for things to do besides read and chew gum. :)

The Miracle of 30 days

2011-01-24T16:36:00.000-06:00

"The process of changing a life-style is more important than reaching a goal or measuring a performance."
-Theodore Isaac Rubin

Today, I will have been abstinent for 30 days from the killing diseases of bulimia and anorexia. In OA, the accomplishment is lauded and awarded by a chip denoting the amount of time but in life, it is so much more than that.

My abstinence is not just eating a sustainable, healthy diet, refraining from purging and refraining from abusing laxatives, but it is also an emotional and spiritual process as well. While my food has not always been perfect, and my behavior not always what it should be, my spiritual life has grown. Part of the program is turning your will and life over to the care of a god of your understanding, and, despite being an atheist for so long, I tried it with incredible results. I'm not trying to convert anyone. I know too well how irritating that can be. But the spiritual side of the program has worked for me, and helped to save me from the slow death I had sentenced myself to by being both bulimic and anorexic.

Abstinence has not been easy. The sick side of me is still going strong and continues to subtly try to sabotage me by saying things like, "You're getting fat" "Thin people don't eat this way" "You're so full, getting rid of it would be such a relief". The sick side of me still hears a calling from the scale and the mirror. While I can't avoid the massive mirror in my bathroom, I have managed to begin avoiding the scale. There is freedom from the compulsion to weigh every single day, and it feels good, though vaguely uncomfortable. All I need to know is that my clothes still fit, and that I am still fit emotionally and spiritually and I will be fine.

Out of the Twelve Steps, I am just now working on step four. The step-work is hard and rewarding. Step four is a moral inventory, and it calls for everything to be laid on the table. All my dark secrets will have to be revealed. While I am sure that I will be proud when I have completed the step, it is still a daunting task to undertake.

The food part of abstinence can get muddled in OA. Some people attribute all of their abstinence to their food plan and leave it at that, but I find it to be more rewarding to go beyond the food. However, what you eat, when you eat it and how you eat it is still vital to abstinence. Some OA members who are compulsive overeaters have to abstain from all flour, sugar, alcohol, caffeine, artificial fats, ad infinitum. Every abstinence is unique to the individual, just as mine is different from the many with which I attend OA. I don't have banned foods, or even really a formal meal plan that I follow to the letter. The important part is that I actually eat three meals a day with a couple of snacks if I get hungry. Being too hungry is what leads to binging and purging for me. There is a sort of freedom in choosing what I want to eat when mealtime comes around, and I try my hardest to make sound meal decisions.

Perhaps the greatest miracle, aside from my spiritual program, is the fellowship and understanding I found at my first and every OA meeting. Those in attendance may not have an eating disorder that manifested like mine, but we are all alike in that the way we treat food and our bodies is not sane. It is a place that I can make jokes about vomiting at will (which I can do) and get laughter instead of room full of shocked faces. It is not that we don't take our diseases seriously, but we understand each other and that understanding can seem a little bizarre to outsiders (or "normies" as one fellow OA says jokingly). I don't have to hide my feelings about how I feel about eating or attempt to rationalize any of my irrational behavior because my friends at OA get it. They've been there too and together we share experience, strength, and hope at every meeting. It is a wonderful feeling to belong instead of feeling so separated by my disease.

With hard work, and the help of my Higher Power, I will hopefully soon be writing about the miracle of sixty days. Thanks for reading.

Loneliness, with a love note

2011-01-23T21:17:00.000-06:00

"too much
too little
or too late

too fat
too thin
or too bad

laughter or
tears
or immaculate
unconcern

haters
lovers

armies running through streets of pain
waving wine bottles
bayoneting and fucking everyone

or an old guy in a cheap quiet room
with a photograph of Marilyn Monroe.

there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
a clock's hands.

there is a loneliness in this world do great
that you can see it in blinking neon
in Vegas, in Baltimore, in Munich.

people are tired
strafed by life
mutilated either by love or no
love.

we don't need new governments
new revolutions
we don't need new men
new women
we don't need new ways
we just need to care.

people are not good to each other
one on one.
people are just not good to each other.

we are afraid.
we think that hatred signifies
strength.
that punishment is
love.

what we need is less false education
what we need are fewer rules
fewer police
and more good teachers.

we forget the terror of one person
aching in one room
alone
unkissed
untouched
cut off
watering a plant alone
without a telephone that would never
ring
anyway"

- "the crunch (2)" by Charles Bukowski

I wish to digress from the usual subject of my blog to discuss loneliness. It is one of my greatest fears. I count it amongst my greatest enemies. On a day when I should feel triumphant, sailing past my twenty-ninth day of abstinence and beginning my thirtieth, it depletes all joy from me. On a day I was loved and cared for, it leaves me desolate and afraid. I do not think I can adequately express in words what loneliness has done to me in the past and is doing to me right now. As I write this, I am coming down from a wonderful day, filled with laughter and love, to arrive back where I was just a few hours ago: alone and deserted. Allow me to explain the situation.

My boyfriend of two years and eight months lives in a different city than I do, about 90 miles or one hour away. He works, and we can only see each other on the weekends and lately he is able to stay at the most one night. He is a wonderful man who has been through so much with me and my illnesses. He has been tolerant and supportive in my darkest times. He has brought so much love and humor and creativity to my life. We have our special place, a bed and breakfast up in Mentone, Alabama, where we have shared some of the most peaceful and joy-filled days of my life. He has taught me to enjoy humor, especially the cheesy kind, to be compassionate, patient, and, recently, understanding. I love him more than any other person in my life, more than any person I have ever loved. He treats me kindly, gently and lovingly.

But things have been hard, very hard. His complications and my many complications have made things rocky. At times, the channels of love, patience, compassion, and understanding have been shut off, making the relationship wither, only for it to bloom again when the channels reopen. At times, I have been so demanding, selfish, crazy (just to be polite), and mean the relationship has nearly died. At times, he has been so cold, so unchanging, so sensitive to criticism that I have nearly broken it off. Luckily, that has not happened. But always, even in the best of times, there is the distance, all 90 miles or one hour of it. There is hearing about his day over the phone instead of over dinner. There is the joy of his arrival for a visit and the dark hours following his departure. There is knowing that so many people in his life get to see him every goddamn day and probably take it for granted. There is a feeling that is growing within me that the distance is not just physical, but emotional as well.

The answer could be so simple, such as sharing a place together or engagement. But we are not simple people with ordinary problems. We are both impaired, in a sense. The main problem is that these impairments make it damn near impossible for the relationship to progress further. While I can say quite happily that I am taken, I can't see him every day. I get to see him one day a week. I suppose I should feel grateful that I get to see him at all. While I am not physically starving at moment, I am emotionally starved. And I am lonely, which is an emotion that levels me to a point that I can barely function.

So, if you are reading this and have a partner that you live with, don't take it for granted. If you are in a relationship that is stuck, I am right there with you. And if you are alone, I understand totally.

This is causing me a great deal of pain and paralyzing fear. I may be abstinent, self-injury-free, drug-free and alcohol-free, but I am also alone. But, as true to my character, I am not giving up either.

And, so, I told him

2011-01-19T09:49:00.000-06:00

"I have never seen a person grow or change in a constructive direction when motivated by guilt, shame and/or hate." -William Goldberg

My abstinence is going, and growing, very well. I have made mistakes, but none that cancel out abstinence and make me start over from day one. One thing that has changed about it is that I am no longer doing it for someone else anymore. I am getting healthy and staying sane for me and me alone. Through working with my Higher Power, I have found the beginnings of self-respect and self-esteem. I will no longer sit back and let things happen. I have been granted the courage to change the things that I can.

It is a scary prospect in some areas of my life. One facet of my life is the two and a half year relationship that I am prodding for change. It may be prodded to end. It may be prodded to grow. I will be devastated if it ends, but I will continue to be unhappy if it doesn't change. The old, unhealthy me would have just sat back and let things continue as they are. The new, more balanced me is taking action and having constructive conversations about what my needs are and how they are not being met. I am not saying that I don't love him, because I do, very, very much. I just can't let things go on the way that they are.

All of the changes I have made have begun out of love for this man and his desire to see the unhealthy behaviors disappear. Now, as I begin to think clearly, I realize that I am no longer refraining from cutting, drinking, popping pills, and eating disordered behaviors because of him; I am refraining out of self-love and self-respect. I am not taking better care of myself for anyone else but me. And I am a good enough reason to stay clean of those behaviors.

In some ways, I feel like I am already drifting away from the relationship because its loss would be so painful but I have to stay present just long enough for a possible miracle to happen. I am hoping for the miracle. They say in the OA program, "Don't leave before the miracle happens!" and I am trying to apply this to the relationship.

In other news, my hair is now not falling out like it was during the anorexia. I always tear out some hair (I think we all do) when combing conditioner through my tangles, but nothing close to the amounts I was experiencing while actively eating disordered. I am not weighing every day either. This makes me a little uncomfortable because it was part of my routine in the mornings for so long, and was the main influence in my emotional barometer for the day, but now I have a new morning routine. I wake, pray, read my meditations and have coffee (with fat free half and half!). I am planning on weighing in a week or so, and am hoping for the strength to not let the numbers make or break me. The last time I weighed, I was delighted to see that the numbers had not changed due to my increased calorie intake.

Also, in other news, my second nephew was born yesterday at 7:16 A.M. and weighed in at 7 pounds, 12 ounces! He is a perfect, precious gift. I will post pictures soon. I only got to hold him twice yesterday, but I marveled at his perfect little face, his chubby little fingers and his big feet. New life is truly a miracle and so inspiring!

The main struggle in my life is structure in my food plan. I need to consume three balanced meals a day plus a snack or two. I have skipped dinner a few nights because of the caloric makeup of earlier in the day. Balance is key to any successful food plan, and I have to work with myself and my Higher Power to achieve that balance.

All in all, including the relationship difficulties, my life is great now! Sure, I have problems to work through, but with the help of my Higher Power, things will work out for the best. I am confident of that and confident in myself. Amen.

A milestone

2010-12-22T18:28:00.002-06:00

"Denial of the truth leads to destruction."

-The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous

I am attending OA (Overeaters Anonymous, which deals with all eating disorders) regularly now, even though the meetings are far from my house. Despite the fact that I am one of the few bulimics/anorexics present, I still feel a kinship with all of the members because, in one way or another, we are crazy about food. I have begun the process of working the steps using a workbook they publish, and am taking an honest look at my life, my disorders, my emotional and spiritual condition and more. They say the program is three-fold in nature: physical, emotional and spiritual. I am attempting to battle my diseases on all these fronts.

I feel that, after years of being an Atheist, I am in touch with my Higher Power, and that He is helping me delve into recovery with the relish I am taking it on with. Ended that sentence with a preposition, but whatever! Anyways, I followed the advice in Step 3 and imagined a power greater than myself that was exactly what I wanted and needed, and then prayed to that. I refer to this Higher Power as God, though I still do not classify myself as a Christian. Ever since I said that initial prayer, I have felt a tremendous sense of peace. Now, I pray multiple times a day (so far) and hope to maintain that spiritual connection as my recovery continues.

In taking a good, hard look at myself and my behaviors, I have found that irrational thoughts and actions plague me, that I am selfish and stubborn, that I lie too easily and don't think of others nearly as much as I should. These are just a few defects of my character that I am turning over to my Higher Power.

The major thing is the food, of course. How much, how often, and what to eat. At the moment, I have myself on 500 calories a day (an increase from 300) and just today I had *drumroll* 800! I feel satisfied and do not fear the increase in body mass (that I still irrationally believe is imminent and will occur overnight) as much as would have last week. I know that the scale will say more in the morning (weighing myself so much will be a habit I have to break) but I will remind myself that I consumed more, thus I weigh a couple ounces more. I can look at that and think, "No big deal!" but it seems like a miracle. I am still a long way (almost typed "weigh" there) from a three meal a day, sustainable calorie plan, but I am just getting started.

Abstinence and recovery, here I come!

Back again for a quick update

2010-11-29T22:21:00.005-06:00

I just ended a "normal eating" cycle. I ate normally for a week and a half just to stabilize any nutrient levels that might have been low, and I felt awful the whole time. My "sick side" was a dull roar inside my head, telling me how wrong I was, how much weight I would gain (which I didn't, I only gained 2 lbs., probably food/water weight) and more.

I still have 20 more pounds that I feel I need to lose, and I am determined to lose those pounds. My medication makes it easier to not eat which is both good and bad. I am not doing this in a healthy way, and I am not in control. The weight loss is an accomplishment I can take some measure of pride in but my goal weight is just barely within the healthy BMI range for my height. That is not normal. That is disease. I am sick, and I know it.

My walls are covered with lyrics and pictures that remind me of my goal. I surround myself with sickness and wonder why I don't move on to healthy behaviors. I still avoid therapy, still tell myself that it won't help anything. I feel more faith in my ability to navigate the DBT manual on my own as I have done before, and again learn the tools to help alleviate my Borderline symptoms, which have been bad lately. Lots of clingy behavior and then pushing people away by picking fights or just choosing to be miserable and making everyone around me miserable as a result. I had to have my antidepressant bumped up due to an increase in depressed behaviors like sleeping a lot and feeling lost and lonely.

A psychiatrist I crossed paths with during a brief stay in the hospital a month ago made an excellent point. Life is not about working and bringing home a paycheck. Life is about finding a purpose or more than one purpose and feeling fulfilled and whole. I hope I can get there someday soon. I am trying to learn Flash and set up a new website that is both a gallery of my photography and a blog. I feel like I owe it to myself to more fully indulge my passion for photography since I seem to have a knack for it. I want to photograph more graveyards and decrepit buildings with hidden beauty, my favorite subjects, and more of Mentone (Northeast), Alabama, which is a vacation spot for me and my boyfriend. I'm still learning how to use the digital SLR that my boyfriend gave me, with shutter speed and the ISO and aperture and light meter settings overlapping in layers to get a good shot. This goes right along with being adept with Photoshop and the camera raw editor in Adobe Bridge. I love creating in Photoshop, starting with a blank canvas and filling it in with patterns, color-coordinated swatches, and an extensive collection of brushes. My painting materials had to be packed up, so I can't do that at the moment. Paint and canvas was becoming expensive, but worth it in what I could force out of my mind. I painted the chaos of my mind. To some, it would look like smears and streaks across a canvas, but to me each stroke had a reason to be placed there and the chaos would be constructed one at a time. I have tried my hand at writing poetry again, but just like when I wrote earlier in my life, I feel like every poem is pure and utter crap.

I am seven months free of self-injury. Aside from the weight loss, it is the thing I'm proudest of, the accomplishment that really means something. A 14 year addiction ended quietly, after beginning with a burst of rage and feeling a lack of control over my life at the age of 13. It is coming up on 11 years of being eating disordered. Though my bulimia was well-masked for years, interspersed with periods of anorexic behavior, it is out in the open now.

I still receive doubt that the eating disorder is a separate entity from my self-injurious behavior, but I also receive validation from a psychiatrist and support group through a diagnosis and identifying with others like me. Is it just the self-injury in another form or is it really something separate? The "sick side" of me, the side that is diseased whether my mother or half-sister believe it or not, is in control. My family believes that I have a choice and that I'm choosing to destroy myself, and my mother has gone so far as to say that my behavior is stupid and needs to stop. This, naturally, hardens me and makes me more determined to continue on a path that I acknowledge is dangerous but that doesn't scare me.

Despite the continued behaviors, my boyfriend is giving me a promise ring. The symbol of commitment makes me feel more secure, and even more certain of our future together, even with the rocky times we have been having lately due to my Borderline behaviors.

I want to clarify that while I seem to assign blame for my behaviors on my diseases and not myself, I do take responsibility for my actions. I simply have the knowledge that the behaviors can be explained by disease, and apologized for by me.

Hopefully, this update has been sufficient. I've missed the blog and the connection to others, but I have simply been too preoccupied to maintain it.

Goodbye, for now (Dance in the Dark)

2010-09-01T17:04:00.003-05:00

"Silicon, saline, poison inject me
Baby, I’m a free bitch
I’m a free bitch

Some girls won’t dance to the beat of the track
She won’t walk away
But she won’t look back
She looks good
But her boyfriend says she’s a mess
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
Now the girl is stressed
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
(Tellem’, girls)

Baby loves to dance in the dark
‘Cuz when he’s lookin’
She falls apart
Baby loves to dance in the dark (Tellem’, girls)

Run run
Her kiss is a vampire grin
The moon lights her way while she’s howlin’ at him
She looks good
But her boyfriend says she’s a tramp
She’s a tramp
She’s a vamp
But she still does her dance
She’s a tramp
She’s a vamp
But she still kills the dance
(Tellem’, girls)

Baby loves to dance in the dark
‘Cuz when he’s lookin’
She falls apart
Baby loves to dance in the dark (Tellem’, girls)
In the dark
She loves to dance in the dark
In the dark
She loves, she loves to dance in the dark

Marilyn
Judy
Sylvia
Tellem’ how you feel girls!

Work your blonde Benet Ramsey
We’ll haunt like Liberace
Find your freedom in the music
Find your Jesus
Find your Kubrick
You will never fall apart
Diana, you’re still in our hearts
Never let you fall apart
Together we’ll dance in the dark

Baby loves to dance in the dark
‘Cuz when he’s lookin’
She falls apart
Baby loves to dance in the dark"
Send "Dance in the Dark" Ringtone to your Cell"Dance in the Dark" Lady Gaga

For the time being at least I am not going to be updating here. I feel like I have shared enough of my inner thoughts and turmoil with a tiny portion of the world. It is enough. I will start posting again once I have overcome my weight and food issues. For now, I will "love to dance in the dark".

I still have not self-injured, primarily at this point due to a threat from my boyfriend that he will leave me if I do. I have wanted to so badly a couple of times lately that the threat is the only thing that stopped me. Speaking of threats...

I am really tired of physicians (other than my psychiatrist), therapists and the like telling me that my eating disorder is secondary to "other issues". My bipolar is well-medicated and I am working through the reemergence of my Borderline symptoms with my therapist. What else could it be besides a separate diagnosis? My psychiatrist still has me diagnosed with bulimia (the one professional who believes me) so what else could it be? My primary care doctor said it is my self-injury (and other internal issues) in another form. That infuriates me. I have been without self-injury, the cutting and burning, for a while now. The kindly doctor said that I have a "choice" between eating at least 1000 calories a day or "long term treatment" and by that she means being institutionalized, not at an eating disorder clinic. It's not fair. I only went in to have my levels checked and what I get is a threat and a follow-up appointment. It seems that she feels she is taking action where my other care providers are not, like she will save me. She doesn't know me well enough to know that I cannot be saved . I have to save myself, someday.

My levels, including electrolytes, were well within the normal range, thank you very much. I am being smart, too smart perhaps for my own good, but I am going to do this thing. Nothing will stop me.

And that is all, for now. Goodbye.

Caught in a bad romance

2010-08-25T10:12:00.004-05:00

I found MY thinspiration song!

"Oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance
Rah rah ah-ah-ah!
Ro mah ro-mah-mah
Gaga Ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

I want your ugly
I want your disease
I want your everything
As long as it’s free
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

I want your drama
The touch of your hand
I want you leathe-studded kiss in the sand
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want it bad
Your bad romance

I want your loving
And I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!)
I want your loving
All your love is revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Rah rah ah-ah-ah!
Ro mah ro-mah-mah
Gaga Ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

I want your horror
I want your design
‘Cause you’re a criminal
As long as your mine
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love, uhh

I want your psycho
Your vertigo stick
Want you in my room
When your baby is sick
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
(‘Cause I’m a freak bitch, baby)
I want it bad
Your bad romance

I want your loving
And I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your loving
All your love is revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Rah rah ah-ah-ah!
Ro mah ro-mah-mah
Gaga Ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

Walk-walk fashion baby
Work it
move that bitch crazy
Walk-walk fashion baby
Work it
move that bitch crazy
Walk-walk fashion baby
Work it
move that bitch crazy
Work-work fashion baby
Work it
I’m a freak bitch baby

I want your love
And I want your revenge
I want your love
I don’t wanna be friends

J'veux ton amour
Et je veux ton revenge
J'veux ton amour
I don't wanna be friends

(I don't wanna be friends)
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
(Want your bad romance)
Caught in a bad romance
(Want your bad romance)

I want your loving
I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!)
I want your loving
All your love is revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
(Want your bad romance)
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance"
-Lady Gaga "Bad Romance"

There are plenty of pro-ana sites out there with tons of lyrics of songs that are supposed to be "thinspiring" but I find a lot of them to be depressing (Golden Palominos "Holy" is one example) and think the songs are too direct about the disorder. Yes, they explicitly detail aspects of the disordered thinking and body image, but I wanted metaphor in my song. A song that was entirely about something else, but I could easily relate it to Ronina and me. I like to think of "Bad Romance" as metaphor and, in a way, a "conversation" between both sides of me. Plus, the video is fabulous and has some beautiful thinness imagery.

I am having a hard time telling if I am doing well, and Ronina is being quiet as a sign of approval or if we have melded into more of a oneness or if she is the one entirely in control of my life at the moment and I am just a spectator. I am feeling stronger about some aspects of my life, not so weak emotionally. I am more hard and cold than usual. My decisions are made with more precision and less dithering. Have I gone completely insane? A girl at my OA meeting last night called my reasoning (about the calories and light exercise I do being a healthy way to go) part of the insanity of the disease. It might be insane but it makes sense to me.

I am down to under 400 calories a day and have extended my daily walk because my weight loss is slowing and that just won't do at all. I made the firm decision to quit smoking at the end of the business week, but I am utterly paralyzed by the fear that it will make me gain some of the weight back. Cutting back on the calories and increasing the exercise is sort of a preemptive action on my part.

As for the self-injury, the other half of this blog, I have been free of that insanity for over a month now. It has certainly crossed my mind, in the sort of way that former addiction calls to you seductively but I have not given in to temptation. I miss the relief and comfort it provided me, but I do not miss adding new scars over old scars and the daily bandaging (and the cost of bandaging is very high for the level of injury I would do). Instead of taking out my anger, frustrations, depression, helplessness etc. out on my skin, I actually let myself really cry or, far more often, I journal about whatever is eating at the core of me. I also sometimes use a heavyweight punching bag (with bright pink boxing gloves) and beat the shit out of that.

My bipolar is in check at the moment, but the Borderline disorder is busting at the seams. I think since so much of my mindfulness is on the one thing I can control, food/weight, my balance of wise mind vs. emotional mind is out of whack. I am keeping tabs on it, and will notice from time to time when the trademark characteristics emerge. It makes it very hard to deal with me, but it is also something I have learned to just shrug off. I have a bigger (literally, heh) thing to worry about than a personality disorder.

That's about it for the present. Thanks for still reading and possibly giving a damn.

Quick update

2010-08-20T07:49:00.003-05:00

"It doesn't matter how slow you go, as long as you don't stop."
-silly Ana Thinspo

My weight loss plan is working quite effectively. The pounds keep melting away, and it gets easier every day. My hunger is less of an issue which makes it very easy to skip "meals" and not give in to old temptations of a binge/purge cycle. I look to the small amounts that I eat as a necessity or an obligation. My mostly daily walks still seem like a chore, but I am accepting that it is something I must do on most days to hasten the loss. I don't weigh every single morning anymore. Some days it is consecutive, but most days I wait to see an even bigger drop after a couple of days.

My mood is improving thanks to an increase in my antidepressant. I am still lonely and kind of listless on most days but I don't spend my days crying or sleeping the day away as I was before. The loneliness is more situational, I believe, and not a symptom of depression. I nap during the day, but that is on advisement from multiple pro-ana websites. I am also taking better care of my skin. Despite a daily multivitamin, and eating protein, I continue to lose hair though not as much as I used to.

I am starting to think my goal weight is too high, but that is a thought that is a result of the eating disorder. I might lower the bar just a little more, but that would make for my second time of decreasing my weight loss goal. Starting the pattern of dropping the goal again and again is a dangerous slope to slide down. I still cannot reconcile the smaller clothes, and the smaller numbers on the scale with the real me. I look in the mirror and see all the fat that is hanging off of me, and the loss doesn't seem real. It seems like the numbers are a lie, and it is all an illusion. Of course, these thoughts are irrational but I can't help it.

On auto-pilot now, I proceed through my days with robotic, mechanical precision. Everything is done a certain way for certain reasons, illogical though they may be, and I do not deviate from my "meal plan" or routine for the day. The only thing that distracts me from my purpose is the loneliness which eats away at the core of me a little more each day. Even the eating disorder is starting to seem hollow. I feel empty and lost sometimes until my sick side comes in and takes control and gives me strength.

Dreams

2010-08-11T08:12:00.003-05:00

"Without discipline, there's no life at all."
-Katherine Hepburn

I'll discuss eating disorder stuff in a second, but first I want to talk about my dreams. Not just the ones I have while sleeping, but my desires, my ambitions too. I want to go back to school someday. I want to help people in some way to overcome their issues with self-injury. I want to get married and share a life with someone, someday. I might want to have kids someday. Essentially, I want my goddamned happy ending. But I can't have it. It is impossible. The only possibility, the only certain thing in my life is an eating disorder. It is a hollow victory to be partially self-sufficient based upon illness, but it sustains me and protects me. When I look around and no one is there, my eating disorder is.

I went full-blown bulimic yesterday. Ate and ate and ate and then threw it up, or at least as much as I could. I try not to force myself too much since I don't want to rupture my esophagus, one of the risks of purging. Today I am restricting to 390 calories as punishment and really using the OA literature to avoid another binge. The "Think First" pamphlet is out in my computer area so I can read it to avoid compulsively overeating again.

My weight is hovering again, so another strong push is in order. I guess the best thing to do would be to increase my exercise, since decreasing my calories more would not be wise. I could extend my morning walks with my dog, since exercising on the treadmill is so fucking boring. I got a new scale that calculates my body fat percentage, muscle mass and bone density. It is awesome!

I am going to take in a swim and get a shower. I don't know what to do with myself today. Not much to look forward to, nothing going on. I feel lost.

"You're my gravity."

2010-08-05T06:21:00.004-05:00

"There is this hunger, this restlessness inside of me, and it knows that you're no stranger, you're my gravity."
-Jewel

Started my day extra-early. Got up at 5:30, weighed, was delighted with my progress and took my dog for a walk. I am back already, and it isn't even 6:30 yet. Waiting for the coffee to be ready. I've stopped taking it with the fat free creamer and am saving 40 calories by doing so.

OA is tonight and I am really looking forward to it. Of course, it's like 11 hours until I can leave for the meeting to set up, but I am hoping the day will pass more quickly with something to look forward to. Hopefully, I will hear from the doctor today about my medicine. I am practically panting with excitement to start taking the Vyvanse again. It helps me so much. Without it, I feel like my thoughts have to squeeze through this tiny window in my head to reach my consciousness. When I am on it, I feel like I have the ability to open up this massive door and my thoughts flow more freely.

---

Finally had some coffee. It is a really harsh beverage on my stomach when it is empty. I have to wait a couple hours until I can eat my first food of the day (hard-boiled eggs).

I had an argument with my boyfriend last night. We are both depressed (or maybe I just depress him, I don't know) and we couldn't console each other. Then I started nagging. Things went downhill from there. I have ideas about how things "should" be and I tend to try to force those ideas on others. Focusing on my own problems is harder than focusing on other people's supposed problems. I know all of this rationally, but when it comes down to moments like last night, I throw rational behavior out the window.

Moving on today - I need to find something I can focus on besides food and weight. It will make the time pass more quickly, and I can hopefully not sleep half the day away.

"You can't fall anywhere. You're already there."

2010-08-03T07:45:00.004-05:00

"These damned heights get eerie after a while. I want to go down, way down; far, far down. To the ocean. That sounds right. Where the waves roll in slowly and there's always a roar and you can't fall anywhere.
You're already there."
-Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Beginning anew with strength and a plan. I am hoping that planning out my day will make it pass more quickly. I am rigidly sticking to my 500 calories today, and I have out an OA pamphlet called Think First that is for those weak moments when you want to binge but almost don't have the strength to resist. I am going to call my Internal Medicine doctor and make an appointment. I want lab work done to make sure that my salts are normal (magnesium, sodium, potassium).

I "binged" yesterday i.e. ate a normal amount of calories for a meal in one sitting. I worked out extra to make up for it. I didn't lose any weight from yesterday, but at least I did not gain. I made some of my favorite binge foods too, and managed to keep most of it down. My favorite binge foods are a weird combination of things that are easy to dispose of.

OA is tonight and I am so grateful. I am leaving extra early to set up for the meeting and do some reading. Being in the church makes me feel peaceful, though I do not follow any faith. I am looking forward to seeing the people, going through the usual meeting format. I find comfort in the familiarity.

Today, despite my planning, I feel really dark. I look forward to sleeping at night, have fucked up dreams and still dread waking up. I dread the hours, the minutes of my days. There is nothing bright and cheerful about the path I have chosen which, as my therapist bluntly pointed out, if I stick to it for long enough, will kill me.

My therapist is pretty awesome. She has hit the nail on the head and in such a succinct manner so many times, I kind of am surprised. She is blunt, but not rude or combative (like a previous therapist). I was also told that I 'live in a world of rationalization and denial' and that is how I have survived this long. I totally agree with that assessment. I have caught myself several times lately rationalizing irrational behavior. Knowing that doesn't stop me, but it is helpful to spot the behavior when it happens.

Anyways, just have to make it through another day of planned mealtimes, distractions and the meeting tonight. And then, go to sleep to wake up and do it all again tomorrow. I am tired.

Difficult

2010-08-02T11:25:00.002-05:00

"Hunger hurts, but starving works. Think thin!"
-silly Ana ThinSpo

I am having so much difficulty managing the hunger. I try to eat protein-rich foods to help stave off hunger, but in-between mealtimes I find myself thinking of nothing but food and weight. I am obsessed. Trying to busy myself does not help much. Besides that, I find myself easily distracted and tired. I sleep sometimes just to pass the hours.

At the moment, I am waiting for my 12:00 eating time. It is so hard - the middle of the day through the afternoon is notoriously difficult. It is mentioned on many pro-ana websites, but I find even then that food is more tempting than the glowing red numbers on my scale. I added an afternoon snack to my meal plan, but feel guilty for the added calories. 500 a day seems like too much and too little at the same time.

I wish that time was not such an issue for me. Despite strong efforts, I find myself bored often. Reading, painting, drawing, gaming, etc. all only hold my attention my for a short time and then I am back to square one. And, despite evidence to the contrary, I am feeling lonelier than ever. I have three wonderful animals, a loving (though an hour away) boyfriend and some friends through OA that are present in my life on an occasional basis, but most of the time I am alone. It is easy to give in to the feelings of loneliness when my attention is drawn to things like food and weight. I feel like I am cheating myself out of a fuller life experience, but I don't know what to do about it. I wish I had therapy this week.

Only a few more days until I am back on the medicine that should help with some of this. I am hoping for the strength to make it through the final stretch.

"Just for today"

2010-07-31T09:08:00.003-05:00

"Just for today, I will be agreeable. I will look as good as I can, dress becomingly, talk low, act courteously, criticize not one bit, not find fault with anything and not try to improve or regulate anybody but myself."
Just for Today, OA pamphlet

I have been bitchy lately. When I am hungry, I get bitchy. It is an unfortunate side effect. Also, my Borderline Personality Disorder seems to be rearing its ugly head again. I have been needy, controlling, and turning everything into black or white.

So, in an effort to curb some of these behaviors, I am going to follow some of the advice in the OA literature I have been reading. Just for Today is an awesome little credit card-sized pamphlet that gives suggestions on how to take one day at a time. I need help with handling my days, so these little golden ideas are simple ways for me to manage time, which I have too much of.

Today will be an easy day. Going to do grocery shopping, which takes a while due to label reading, but I will go to the store dressed well with my hair and makeup done. I am all ready to go, but I am waiting on my mother to give me a call to say she is ready to go with me.

Today will be slightly over 500 calories, which is driving me crazy. I may work out a little extra to burn off the calories. However, I am not going to let food obsession and weight obsession be my primary thoughts today. My thoughts will be pleasant if it kills me. Well, ok, so it will be hard to do that since I phrase things like "if it kills me" but I am going to try my very best.

A bite is a bite, and nothing more. My Plan of Eating is filled out and I will not let the food control me. Or I will try to not let the food control me. Pleasant thoughts. Good thoughts.

This is going to really fucking difficult. But I will try. ^_^

What a day...

2010-07-29T14:42:00.002-05:00

"...we are free at last."
-The Twelve Steps and Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous, pg. 51

I wish I felt free. Over the last few days, food or lack thereof has dominated me. Exercise is starting to seem like less of a chore and more of a necessity. I have been dancing around the same weight range for a week now and it is time to step up my effort - no, not restricting more. I will not allow myself to stray from my Plan of Eating. I fill it out at night and it helps to not worry and fuss over what I eat and when.

Yesterday was terrible. I drank (sin number one) and then binged and purged (sins number 2 and 3). I couldn't have stopped myself from the binge, since my body was so hungry. Let me define this binge so you get an idea of how my mind works: Lean Cuisine, a turkey sandwich, PB&J on wheat bread. That is actually just shy of a normal amount of calories for a day, so I really didn't do any damage. But it feels like it.

Overeaters Anonymous is tonight, and I am going. Here is a snip of an e-mail I sent a friend explaining my relationship to that group:

"I am still going to OA (Overeaters Anonymous, for all eating disorders) and I am now not the only bulimic there. It felt kind of lonely to be the only one there struggling with that problem. I made sure to greet her, and invite her very enthusiastically back. My other friend from OA is starving herself. She used to be a compulsive overeater, but is now a size (gag) 4. I think she is afraid of being a size 24 again, but she knows better than that. I have only been going for a couple months, and she is shrinking. I would love to be her size but at the same time I am encouraging her to eat. Such a hypocrite. Ah well, at least I have good intentions. I honestly do not know why I keep going back, since I am in relapse, bad, but they always make me feel so welcome and so accepted. Maybe when I am healthy (whenever that is) I will be able to really utilize the program, and already have roots there."

I like the fellowship there and it helps to know that there are others out there with fucked up ideas about food and eating. I always feel more positive after I leave, but at the moment it changes nothing in my behavior or thinking. But, at the same time, I am hoping that eventually it will sink in and I will start to change inside. Since getting actual help for my problems is apparently an impossibility at this point, maybe this will be a free alternative that might work at some point. So many "maybe"s and "someday"s in that paragraph.

Out of all of my compulsive behaviors, like selecting one of many different kinds of guns, the eating disorder gives me the most satisfaction and the greatest sense of control. Even though I am, in actuality, out of control. It is safer, less expensive and has the lure of me becoming smaller. I wonder if my weight loss number will change or if I will hold to my word and stay in a healthy BMI, when I get there. Will I ever have my "perfect" body? Does such a thing exist? I don't know anymore. I just don't know.

It felt good to get to the meeting early and set up on Tuesday. I am planning on doing that again tonight. I have nothing but time to kill, and it is Service, so why not? Burn some extra calories too.

Goddamn... I really must be losing my mind.

Video comment on my previous post.

2010-07-26T12:36:00.001-05:00

A re-commitment of effort

2010-07-26T10:34:00.003-05:00

"I threw myself on fires for you
10 good reasons to stay alive
10 good reasons I can't find...
Give me one reason to be beautiful...
Love hates you.
I live my life in ruins for you.
And for all your secrets kept,
I squashed the blossom, and the blossom's dead."
-Hole "Reasons to be Beautiful"

I have been stuck on that song, as well as "Ana's Song (Open Fire)" by Silverchair, as well as "Holy" by The Golden Palominos.

But, anyways... after this weekend I am deciding to more thoroughly delve into the eating disorder, choosing it as a lifestyle rather than as an illness. I will be eating under 500 calories a day, doing some cardio, some weights, but nothing too strenuous. I don't want to build too much muscle, as it weighs a lot. The bulimia is my illness, the anorexia my lifestyle choice.

The people at Mountain Brook schools I attended who tormented me daily for not looking like them helped me toughen up, but also added to this image in my head of what a normal person should look like. And I don't look like that. I can tell you a couple things about Mountain Brook. It is a great party school, plenty of access to money, and then drugs and booze to buy to get fucked up. It is also, by far, a campus full of girls that are the impossibly small sizes that girls like me cry about not being able to fit into. Average sizes are considered fat, and those that wear them are told that they are fat.

When I was anorexic before, I got down to a size 4. Only a size 4. Sadly, my bone structure would not shrink just a tad to make me feel better. I have often, seriously, had the ridiculous notion of wistfully dreaming about a bone removal surgery. You know, where they could shave down and shape your bones. Crazy, I know. I am crazy.

Now, it is time stop focusing on the past, and to look to my future. While the taunts are still alive and swimming around freely in my mind, I have to lock Mountain Brook, the abusive boyfriends, the janitor when I was ages 6-7 in school, the drug abuse, the alcoholism, the extensive, scarring self-injury, all the other shit in my sorted history and past weight loss efforts up as tightly as I can and not allow the demons of those people and situations hinder me now. (Sorry if I don't go into the janitor thing. I have only told a few people in my entire life about it, and those people don't include my parents.)

Nothing can hold me back now. The self-hatred and lifestyle choice are going to be my focus points. I hate myself so much that this should be easy enough. Any particular time I get physically or mentally exhausted, the self-hatred will fuel me and keep me together.

I am shaking after writing all of this. I am going to take a Klonopin and calm down. It is a shame that the very pills I take have calories in them. Ugh.

Simple

2010-07-21T19:09:00.002-05:00

Since I seemed damned to whatever, I am done. Done trying, done fighting.

I'm still restricting, though I binged slightly today. I didn't purge, but I threw out the food that tempted me.

Offer me something. Anything. I'd do it without a thought. My body is a canvas for self-destruction. Help me add to the masterpiece.

"I live my life in ruins for you"

2010-07-15T19:03:00.003-05:00

"Hide the telephone, the telephone
Telephone in case...You realize that
Sometimes your just not OK
You level out, level out, level out
It's not alright now...You need to understand

Throw away this very old shoe lace
Tripped you again
Try to shrug it off, shrug it off, shrug it off
Sow the skin now
You need to understand...there's nothing fake about this
You need to let me in...watching you and

I'll be waving my hand
Watching you drown, watching you scream, no one's around
And maybe you should sleep
And maybe you just need a friend
As clumsy has you've been, there's no one laughing
You will be safe in here, you will be safe in here"
-Our Lady Peace "Clumsy"

Listening to some Hole right now, waiting for meds to kick in and calm me down.

Just so you know, I am going through the motions. Ate 25 baby carrots yesterday, ate 3/4 of an apple today. Not sure what I will eat tomorrow. I hate food. I hate my body. But, mainly, I hate myself.

It is like I explained to Bryan the other night. I feel like an ill-programmed computer. I keep shutting down, rebooting, then shutting down again and again. I am at a loss as to how I am supposed to rewrite the programming. Is treatment the answer, or am I just destined to self-destruct?

At this point, I am not supposed to drink, not allowed to self-injure, not allowed to abuse laxatives or purge. BUT JUST BECAUSE I STOP THESE THINGS DOES NOT MEAN THAT I AM ALL BETTER!!! It does not mean that the enormous self-hatred and faulty wiring is gone. All it means is that the behaviors shift.

I feel hopeless with an endless war raging inside me. I see no future, no reason to try to visualize one. I can continue going to inadequate therapy, pay my fee and drive home, but I am not anticipating a breakthrough. I am not expecting anything anymore.

Mechanically, I called more treatment programs and, of course, none of them take my insurance. Fuck insurance. They want the cold, hard cash up front before they even help you. I am angry. I am hopeless. I have no joy and no chance for recovery, it seems.

It is so much easier anyway, just to keep existing like this. I am not living, just surviving until the next shutdown.

Maybe I will just make a small salad in the morning and eat on that throughout the day. I am taking a vitamin again, since I am not starving myself totally anymore. But now I am exercising too. I do all this mechanically. Automatic. Totally apathetic.

Done fighting it for the time being. "Diving into the wreck" would be a better way to put it. The last comfort I have is also the last thing I have to hold close to me. It won't let me down or leave me. It won't let me drown, but it will hold my head underwater sometimes just for fun.

It isn't so bad after all.

Hole "Reasons To Be Beautiful"

"Love hangs herself
With the bedsheets in her cell
Threw myself on fires for you
10 good reasons to stay alive
10 good reasons that I can't find
Oh, give me a reason to be beautiful
So sick in this body, so sick in this soul
Oh, give me one reason to be beautiful
Oh, and everything I am
Love hates you
I live my life in ruins for you
And for all your secrets kept
I squashed the blossom and the blossom's dead
Oh, give me a reason to be beautiful
So sick in this body, so sick in this soul
Oh, and I will make myself so beautiful
Oh, and everything I am
Miles and miles of perfect skin
I swear I do, I fit right in
My love burns through everything
I cannot breathe
Miles and miles of perfect sin
I swear, I said, I fit right in
I fit right in your perfect skin
I cannot breathe
Hey, baby, take it all the way...down
Hey, baby, taste me anyway
Oh, you were born
So pretty oh summerbabe
We'll never know...
And fading like a rose
Give me a reason to be beautiful
So sick in his body, so sick in his soul
I'll give you my body, just sell me your soul
Oh, and everything I am will be bought and sold
Oh, and everything I am will turn hard and cold
And they say in the end
You'll get bitter just like them
And they steal your heart away
When the fire goes out you better learn to fake
It's better to rise than fade away...
Hey you were right
Named a star for your eyes
Did you freeze did you weep
Turn to gold, baby, sleep
Hey honey mine
I was there all the time
And I weep at your feet
And it rains and rains"

"I expected something pathological, but I did not expect the depth, the violence, and the almost intolerable beauty of the disease." - Kurt Vonnegut

2010-07-13T03:08:00.003-05:00

"This bitter earth, well, what fruit it bears"

2010-07-12T09:48:00.005-05:00

"Every day I get a little closer to vanishing.
Some days I can't stand up because the room moves under my feet
and I smile because I'm almost there,
I'm almost an angel.

One day when I am thin enough
I'll go outside
fluttering my hands so I can fly
and I will be so slight that I will pass through all of you
silently
like wind."
-Golden Palominos "Holy"

I had a shocking revelation this morning while watching an old Vincent Price movie during which he was talking about fear. Nothing that has happened to me or anything I have done or am doing to myself scares me. I felt pain and sadness, and feel emptiness and obsessive. But while my behavior scares and hurts others, it does not phase me emotionally. I feel the hollowness, the pain of hunger and, in the past, the itching of healing wounds and other things physically. However, I don't experience fear.

This lack of fear is dangerous, I suppose. I respond to things like losing hair with irritation at the inconvenience. I have had to use Drano twice in the past couple weeks to unclog my shower and now have to ball up the loose hair and throw it away. I don't want to have another expensive habit. Smoking is enough. But you see my point - it does not scare me. The self-injury never scared me. These are/were all comforts in a fucked-up way.

I started looking into treatment for my eating disorder late last week when I was feeling really bad physically (I had to eat normally this weekend and it irritated me so badly) but I have backed off from that search now. Every time I call a place or two and get the usual "We don't take your insurance and payment is expected before you start" I get discouraged and stop. These places don't even have financing options. Does everyone walk around twenty grand freely available to spend? Yeah, definitely not. Treatment is for the rich, apparently.

I have called the place that is about 45 minutes from where I live called Magnolia Creek and while they do take my insurance, it only cuts the higher than average cost in half. They even work with self-injurers and people who are dissociative like me.

I don't know - it does not seem fair. C'est la vie. Even if I could get in somewhere, I don't feel ready for treatment. I wonder if feeling ready for treatment is something that ever occurs. The place within me that is eating disordered, resorts to self-injury and really likes to drink is basically anesthetized from outside influence. It only projects thoughts and actions; it takes nothing in. Nothing shrinks it, nothing reshapes it, nothing changes it. It is a nothingness that has power. How do you destroy something that doesn't really exist? There isn't a pill for this part of me. The answer is not simple and I am not sure it exists anyway.

Despite all of this, I am not surrendering to my sickness, but my sickness is not giving up either. Sometimes I wonder what all the effort to keep me in the hospital was good for. I do have a great new psychiatrist, and am on some new medications that are keeping my bipolar stable. He also prescribed Vyvanse, which is like Adderall XR, and I like it. It helps the hunger but it also helps me stay focused and not be drugged during the day. I don't feel like laying down and sleeping the day away like I used to. But sometimes I take more than one because it does help with the hunger so much. It keeps me calm too. I have needed less and less Klonopin as a result, and that pleases me since being dependent on a benzodiazepine was always a concern for me.

As for OA and therapy, I have missed meeting times and canceled appointments. I am not the only one in my OA group who is restricting right now and that makes me feel better about what I am doing. I just made an appointment with my therapist for next Wednesday. Let's see if I keep it. My next meeting is tomorrow night. Let's see if I go.

It is not a quitting attitude that is making me write like this. It is the strength of the emptiness that is sucking me down, grabbing my ankles with every step I try to take so I stumble or fall or stay where I am. I feel pretty helpless right now, like I can't do anything, like I really am powerless and just going along for the ride.

I've rambled enough - thanks again for reading and here's a second helping of lyrics.

"This Bitter Earth" -Dinah Washington

"This bitter earth
What fruit it bears
What good is love
That no one shares
And if my life is like the dust
That hides the glow of a rose
What good am I
Heaven only knows

This bitter Earth
Can it be so cold
Today you're young
Too soon you're old
But while a voice
Within me cries
I'm sure someone
May answer my call
And this bitter earth
May not be so bitter after all."

I'll fly away

2010-07-06T13:00:00.007-05:00

"I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there, you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

Now I'm just rolling home
Into my lover's arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you."

Rascal Flatts "Bless the Broken Road"

I guess the scare, i.e. fuck up, from last week still has me shaken. However, Bryan is still standing by my side. He loves me so much, and I don't feel worthy of it. I have had such shitty boyfriends in the past, abusive and all that. It is almost like I am doing things now to push this goodness that has come into my life away since I am not used to it. But all I have lived for all this time is self-destruction, and it is hard to close the door on that.

I would like to explain how all-encompassing my eating disorder is since I have only mentioned symptoms in passing. It directly impacts all facets of my being. When I meet people, or even just see someone in a store or on the street, I will instantly dislike or like them based solely on if they are smaller or bigger than I am. Actually, I hate people instantly if they are smaller than me. I can't stand mirrors and avoid looking down at my body. I zone out in the shower so I don't focus on myself. If I do, I am devastated. My body makes me want to starve. My mind constantly feeds me negative messages about how I look. Every flaw, be it related to my weight or something about my physical appearance or lack of perfection, is mocked and ridiculed by this inner "voice".

I avoid family functions because I feel like my hyper-critical relatives will talk about me behind my back. Talk about how I have gained weight or look heavy or was not dressed properly. These are people who have ruined their knees from jogging so much and had plastic surgery and joined Weight Watchers because they are just "bigger than they want to be". I dislike my sister because she manages a full-time medical career, marriage, a child (with another on the way) and still manages to be a size four. I can't stand her perfect life, and thus those feelings get passed on to her as a person.

Every bite of food has a calorie count, every step has a calorie burn. Numbers run through my mind after years of intense memorization but it does not tire me. This obsession fuels the sick part of my mind and gives me a false sense of strength.

This sickness touches on every aspect of my life and all the thoughts that cross my mind.

I woke up this morning thinking: "Hunger hurts, but starving works. Think thin!".

I need help, but I am at a loss as to where to look for it. And I am confused about wanting help. Do I want to stop this last element of control I have over myself? What would I do without it... I am at a loss.

To clarify my slip-up

2010-07-01T05:06:00.005-05:00

"Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight..."
Sarah Mclachlan -"Angel"

A point from my last post, I quoted the Collective Soul song about my days of youth. My mother is not the root of my problems, nor is my father a drunk. They are both people I am proud of for many reasons.

I simply had a meltdown. Alcohol is not a savior. For me, it brings out the... darkness inside of me? I always manage to forget that while it is slight mood elevator, it is mainly a huge mental disaster. So I drank to reward myself, I thought, and do this shit to myself. It is annoying me now as I enjoy wearing tank tops (yes, enjoy it) and I can't wear them for a while.

There are silver linings. I realized that what I thought was "not feeling" was simply not being out of control and having stable moods. I threw my stability away for the night, and ended up with a mess. I learned that I cannot drink for any reason. I learned just how damaging my self-injury is to those around me and I learned how tired they are of dealing with it.

So, now, I am thoughtful and healing. Keep praying for me, and thanks for still reading.

she said, "Forgive me."

2010-06-28T23:07:00.000-05:00

"She said she can't look back
To her days of youth
What she thought were lies
She later found was truth
She said her daddy had dreams
But he drank them away
And her mother's to blame
For the way she is today"
-Collective Soul "She Said"

I felt so bad tonight that I thought I needed to be in the hospital. However, despite the self-injury and starvation, I held on. It was just long enough that I did not call 911 and let myself go. I did not need their attention. What I needed was a realistic view of myself. I took a shower to wash off all of the blood and put on clean clothes. I felt like the panic was unrealistic. It was my weakness of feeling like I needed to be hospitalized when the answer does not reside in an institution.

I am fine now. I still have not eaten, but I am trying to avoid food like it is poison. Alcohol is not included in the "poison" category. Alcohol is a savior to me, letting me feel for a change, instead of feeling next to nothing.

Despite my previous efforts to get help, get better, I am about to lose everything. My boyfriend is about to crack emotionally. My mom is tired of being used. My animals (a dog and cat) deserve more attention than they are getting. My dad is disappointed in me and doesn't want me to waste people's time with suicide "attempts". Like I was I trying to get attention. Like I was some clueless 19 year-old waving a white flag of truce.

But I am not done. I feel like hitting the rock of my nightmares is still light years away from where I am. I have seen worse, far worse than I am. I have been around people worse off than I am. I am about to lose my boyfriend because he is not strong enough to deal with all my shit. I am draining my mother of resources.

My addiction is better regarding food. I am able to abstain completely. It feels good to be empty, free of the fullness of food. I don't just avoid flour, sugar and salt. I avoid everything. Feeling empty physically matches how I feel inside. Empty, used up, worthless, a valueless vessel that carries nothing. I drag people down with me. I can't get past the rapes, the abuse, the molestation. I think the emptiness comes from that. How do you love when you are confused about how real love feels?

I have not abstained from the self-injury. I cut myself pretty well tonight. Why, why I keep asking myself. My burning is still there too.

My hair is starting to fall out, my teeth are feeling weak. That is the power of the eating disorder, I am going to OA but everyone feels so far away from me. They are on the road to health and I am still on the road to self-destruction. But, why?

Why, why, why? I don't know the answer. Maybe I never will. And I am sad for that possibility.

"Sometimes everything is wrong"

2010-06-25T21:12:00.004-05:00

Ashes

I am Prometheus
and the eagle
in one.
Sometimes I pick the pain
out of me
a piece at a time.
The searing pain of fire
guides me
makes me feel justified.
In agony, I forget the sacrifice.
Clarity brings me peace
though I still see pain
rain, red, blistering,
upon on my skin.

I become Prometheus,
and pay an eagle to pick out
my parts
every day.
The memories, nightmares, and past
get eaten out of me
every day
and then regrow.

I am bringing the light
not to mankind but
to myself.
It seems selfish
but it heals me
every day.

The fire is not
a burning, or razing to ash,
but a cleansing.

Forgive me.

-Erika J.

Numb

2010-06-20T20:44:00.001-05:00

"I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless lost under the surface
Don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there;
Become so tired, so much more aware.
I'm becoming this all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you.

Can't you see that you're smothering me
Holding too tightly afraid to lose control
Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you."
-Linkin Park "Numb"

Things are going... well, things are weird right now. I am experiencing all the pressures of trying to succeed with therapy, with OA, balancing a relationship and steering clear of all the shit I used to do.

Eating has been off for me lately. I haven't been as hungry as normal, so I just have not been eating as much. I think it is a new medicine I was just put on, but it is still troublesome, both to me and to those around me.

I have accomplished step one of the twelve steps, admitting I am powerless over food. Not in the compulsive overeating way, but in that my obsession with food and calories had made me lose control over other parts of my life. By doing the things I did, I did not control my life with food but food controlled my life.

In my therapy, we are starting with the roots of my self-injury, where it began, why I did it, why it continued etc. Therapy is hard work. It is a mental workout. You walk out feeling exhausted by just sitting there and processing things in your mind.

I am slowly letting it sink in that I have been selfish in my relationship during the storm of the last several months. I acknowledge that I am ill, and that explains it, but that does not excuse it in the slightest. I am coming down pretty hard on myself for that. At the same time, I am also not feeling as much. Or, really, I am just not experiencing emotional "depths" because I am medicated well. Maybe this is what being close to normal feels like. I feel happiness, and other emotions but they are fleeting. I am not sure if this is normal or not. Maybe I focus on it all too much. Maybe I just need to start living more fully and not focusing on all this stuff until I am in OA or in the therapist's office.

I am sorry for the lack of updates. I am trying to balance all the things in my life and it is hard to keep everything on an even keel. Keep praying for me. Thank you for reading.

Blue Wednesday

2010-06-09T09:53:00.000-05:00

"I see a ship in the harbor
I can and shall obey
But if it wasn't for your misfortune
I'd be a heavenly person today
And I thought I was mistaken
And I thought I heard you speak
Tell me how do I feel
Tell me now, how should I feel..."
-New Order "Blue Monday"

So, I went to another OA meeting last night and introduced myself as, "Hi, I'm Erika and I'm bulimic..." for the first time. I had just been saying "compulsive overeater" but that is not my problem and since it is a place for people with all types of problems with food, I decided to be honest. It felt very freeing to say it out loud. I got my first chip last week, at my second meeting. I am looking forward to collecting more of these chips.

My "sick voice" was very hard on me yesterday. It made me feel very detached, and I was easily berated by my own illness. I didn't do my full exercise program, and with my "all or nothing" mentality I felt worthless. However, I was able to overcome my negative thoughts and emotions with "it is better than nothing" and be at peace with what I had accomplished. I am losing weight slowly. The pace is maddening. Despite my best efforts, I always wish I could see lower numbers on the scale.

I am noticing changes in my body though, and that helps. I am feeling more physically fit, more energetic (though that may have something to do with addressing my ADHD issues finally) as well as noticing my clothes fit differently and that I have muscles again. I have to wash my jeans and dry them so they fit more snugly. They are still too big in the legs though. All of these things bring me happiness and are helping that little seedling of confidence begin to grow. Even though I am a long way from unconditional self-worth, having this infant self-confidence is beginning to help my self-esteem. I know that true self-esteem is entirely internal, but that is something I must address in therapy.

I have a busy day ahead of me and an even busier one tomorrow, so I just thought I would post something before I disappear for a few days again. Thank you for reading and continuing to support me. It means the world to me.

Erase me

2010-06-06T07:48:00.002-05:00

"Need you
Dream you
Find you
Taste you
Fuck you
Use you
Scar you
Break you
Lose me
Hate me
Smash me
Erase me..."
-Nine Inch Nails, "Eraser"

This used to be one of my songs, for "thinspiration" as well as helping me with my self-injury. What I did not hear when I was sick was the last part, referring to me. It was always easy to objectify myself as "you" but it has come as a revelation to become "me".

There are still the two "voices", healthy and sick, in my head but the sick voice is much quieter now, especially when it comes to the self-destructive behaviors. The bulimia part of me is still pretty strong but I am able to counter that with positive thoughts and point my mind to the day's accomplishments, e.g. I walked a mile and a half today, I have watched my food intake today, etc. To clarify once again, the voices are not auditory hallucinations but just very powerful thoughts. This is why I call them "voices".

I am currently in Mentone, Alabama, on vacation with my beautiful, wonderful Bryan, but I just had to get these thoughts out while I had a chance.

I am being mindful of my eating while I am here, doing my morning walks along beautiful, ambling country roads and learning how to use the huge digital camera that he is sort of giving to me. It is fun to learn about the lighting and how to use the shutter speed, aperture and ISO settings. I am definitely looking forward to using it outside the vacation setting!

God bless everyone and my love to all of you!

Adjusting

2010-05-29T22:03:00.004-05:00

"Just some picture perfect day
To last a whole lifetime
And it never ends
Cos all we have to do is hit rewind
So lets just stay in the moment..."
Jay-Z

It's almost like being let out of jail (which is a pleasure I have never experienced). I feel so out of touch with the real world... it feels like it is not a reality yet. I am restless and antsy.

I want to return to a normal life, but I will have to ease into it. I could write a book of my experiences of just this treatment, but I don't know if I will attempt such a task. But what will my new, normal life be like? I haven't figured that out yet. I had my identity tied to my eating disorder and self-injury for long that I have to rediscover myself or remold myself into something new. It is intimidating for me.

I still want to lose weight, and I will do it in a healthy way, one day at a time. I am such a worrier about the future that it will be hard for me to stay in the present.

I will continue with my painting, my gardening, and my exercise and let myself remain mindful of the task at hand. It is hard to focus, and I feel like I need to move all the time so I don't have free time. It is really hard.

Anyways, I just wanted to post an update about where I am right now. I am thankful to be safe, free, and motivated, but I just need to channel all this energy somehow.

Wanted to post a song, real entry below....

2010-05-28T22:51:00.002-05:00

"Everybody Hurts" by R.E.M.

When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on.
Don't let yourself go, everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes.

Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along.
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (hold on)
When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on.

Everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends.
Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand.
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on.

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes.
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on.
Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on.
(Everybody hurts. You are not alone.)

"Just some picture perfect day that supposed to last a lifetime"

2010-05-28T19:06:00.003-05:00

"Let’s dance in style,
Let’s dance for a while,
Heaven can wait we’re only watching the skies
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst,
Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?
Let us die young or let us live forever,
We don’t have the power but we never say never,
Sitting in a sandpit,
Life is a short trip,
The music’s for the sad man,

Forever young,
I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever?
Forever and ever"
-"Young Forever" Jay-Z featuring Mr. Hudson

So, the question that begs answering is where have I been? Or, what happened to me? Or, what did I do this time and why?

The last question is the most important. I attempted suicide during a manic episode. I took a liter of rum with a month's worth of Klonopin, Seroquel, and BuSpar. It was a severe attempt and I nearly died. The ER pumped enough charcoal into me while pumping my stomach (I was unconscious I guess) to save my life. I am blessed for this 9th chance. My burns and cuts were severe and required wound care and special burn gel and bandages that even an old pro like me had never seen before. My bulimia had spun out of control, taking more laxatives than ever, throwing up more than ever. I had given up, despite what I said in my previous entry.

Feeling unwelcome in any facility due to finances, my set of problems or whatever the reason was made me feel like there was no place for me. I felt like there was no way out, no reason to try and lost all my reasoning. I lost my will to live and almost got my way this time, though my heart did not stop as it did in 2005.

I was rushed to Brookwood (an excellent hospital if you are mentally ill and need immediate help) and woke up in the SICU, with oxygen on my face and an IV in my arm. After spending most of the day there, I was transferred to the psychiatric unit. I spent about four and a half weeks with superior care, receiving excellent therapy, and my medications got adjusted very well. Some were scrapped altogether, some were decreased or increased and one was added. After my time there, I was transferred to another facility and held for another week and a half.

Thanks to that transfer, I have an awesome new psychiatrist, and can continue to see the outpatient therapist I had before any of the mess with ACED began.

I am in recovery. I will always be in recovery, just like an alcoholic or addict. I have a better sense of self-worth, more confidence and want to live again. I am also more assertive, rather than repressing things or feeling like acting out is the best option. I won't lie and say I don't feel the itch to self-injure or the desire to give in to the negative side of me screaming at this new person inside of me, but I feel just barely strong enough to make it.

I will post again soon, but I have to admit that I am slightly overwhelmed with being out in the world, and need some time to recover from being in the hospital.

Thank you for reading, and please pray for me, think positive thoughts or whatever you like. I need the support right now. Love you, guys.

"Where soul meets body"

2010-04-15T16:04:00.000-05:00

"and i rode along side
till you lost me there
in the open road
and i rode along side
till the honey spread
itself so thin
for me to break your bread
for me to take your word
i had to steal it...
and i was ridin' by
ridin' along side
for a while till you lost me
and i was ridin' by
ridin' along till you lost me
till you lost
me in
the rear
view
you lost me
i said"
-Tori Amos "A Sorta Fairytale"

I tried to contact my dad a few weeks ago. I have received no response (except from my step-mom, which felt awesome). I can't begin to imagine the shame and disappointment he feels about me. I wish he would give me some sign that he is still there for me, even though I don't deserve it.

So, I went and did an intake interview at Capitol Care. The woman who spoke with me (the director) admitted that while admitting me to the day program would get them more money from my insurance, she felt that I was too high-functioning and too intelligent to be in it. After seeing the patients (some of which can't read or write, can't transport themselves, have to use walkers to get around, hear voices telling them to kill kill kill) I felt so.... insulted is the best way to put it. Renee at ACED and Dr. Harvey (my doctor when I was in the hospital for evaluation) felt that this would be an awesome program for me. Beth, my counselor at ACED, thought it sounded like a great program. I went along with it and went to do the intake, and I was shocked at the kind of people who would be surrounding me on a daily basis. People who are so far from what I am, and people with needs far greater than my own.

I told the director that I would think about it and call her tomorrow, but my mind is made up. Do I want to sit around with a room FULL of schizophrenic, drug-addicted, physically incapacitated people (some of whom are thinking "kill kill kill") and color pictures? Seriously? This is better for my eating disorder and self-injury than ACED? Than outpatient therapy and medication monitored by my long-time psychiatrist? Get a fucking clue people... I am smart, I am confident at least of that, and being put into a program that seems more like a nursing home than a psychiatric program would be of no help to me.

So, once again, I am back to nothing. All I can hope is that something else will come to my attention before I break down. I am not good enough to belong anywhere. I am a terrible person. Too sick for some places, not sick enough for others. When will it stop? Where is that program that will help me? How much more rejection can I take trying to find it?

Every single time I get handed off to someone else, to be another person's problem, it makes me feel so bad about myself. I am too ill? I am not ill enough? I am too poor to afford what I need with my crappy insurance and meager income. I feel like such a failure, before I have even really been given the chance to try.

And I do want to try. I really do want change. I just feel like a square peg in a round world. And I have seen what money can do for people... maybe if pawned my car and TV and whatever else, I could afford a day at some place that is inpatient, and will deal with both my eating disorder and my self injury. But then, I would have nothing... just a single day in treatment. I would need so much more than that.

All I can do is keep looking. Keep trying. I can't give up just yet. If I do, I'll want to die.

I am sorry that this is not a joyful entry. I am so full of sadness right now that faking optimism would seem like prostitution or something equally degrading.

Bye.

I'm ok... trying to explain.

2010-04-14T11:29:00.001-05:00

"Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell
Hold on
Hold on to yourself
You know that only time will tell
What is it in me that refuses to believe
This isn't easier than the real thing
My love
You know that you're my best friend
You know I'd do anything for you
My love
Let nothing come between us
My love for you is strong and true"
-Sarah McLaclan "Hold On"

I am not suicidal. I know that posts on Twitter said that I was, and I was feeling really lost and helpless. I was planning on taking a bottle or two of CNS depressants with the liter of rum my mother had bought me earlier and calling the paramedics ahead of time so they could come and pick up my body. But, even in my already inebriated state, I knew that I had too much to hope for, too much to live for, to give up now.

My mother is an enabler. She has been my sole enabler for decades now. Just yesterday, she bought me razors, laxatives (yes, I am back on those again), and a liter of rum. Maybe she doesn't know what else to do. Maybe she feels trapped, but that does not make what she does, or what I ask her to do, right.

I do not feel well today. Not hungover per se, but just anxious and jittery. I feel that way all the time after I drink. These past couple of days I have been drinking, and I haven't touched alcohol in months because I am scared of becoming an alcoholic (and it's empty calories, you know ha ha). I thought it was a logical thing to do to slow my mania down. It didn't help. I missed my nighttime medication, so I took it this morning and feel very slow and drowsy.

I binged and purged several times yesterday. I took a handful of laxatives last night. I have cut and burned myself more, more burning than cutting. I punched a wall like five times and am having trouble using my right hand. It is swollen and painful to the touch. I am typing this mainly with my left hand since my fingers aren't working correctly.

Do I need to go in the hospital again? Maybe, but I have too much to do outside of those walls of safety. I can give myself the time to let medication adjustment my doctor gave me begin to help me before I decide to go to hospital again.

It is beginning to get very, very expensive to keep up the care of my burns. I had to abandon most parts of my meal plan I followed from ACED because I could not afford it. And now, I am contemplating giving up the normal care of my burns because I cannot afford more bandages, more ointments, more tapes (which are tearing up chunks of skin because I have taped so much), and giving up terrifies me. The risk of infection is very high with burns. But I'm a junkie. I can't quit. I can't make it stop or the desire to just go away. I am so fucking addicted to the ritual of self-injury and the almost zen-like quality of caring for burns and cuts.

Anyways, this was just a confession of everything from the past few days. I am ok, I am safe, and very busy picking up the aftermath of last night. Very tired too, probably will nap later.

Love you all, and thanks for reading.