Disappointed

I’m so disappointed. I had been hanging on, fighting the voice in my head, actually existing day by day without utterly failing at everything. And yet suddenly within just a few days, everything has come spiralling down.

I hate myself. I hate being around people. I have no energy for pretending. I’m weepy and irritable. I’m making disordered eating choices. But contrastingly, when I would normally be spending every free second in the gym, I’m preferring to lie in bed staring at the ceiling.

I can self harm for hours and feel nothing, but chronic injuries are so painful I give up on everything. I don’t enjoy study. I’m doing a week’s worth of content in the final hours before the weekly online forums close so I don’t fail and waste $3000.

I want to go to bed and never get up. Never have to do anything. Never see anyone. I want to be able to cry and cry and cry and wake up in the morning and feel a bit better. I want to be strong enough to make my own choices. I want to be brave enough to stand up for myself. I want to be selfish enough to say no sometimes.

I never get what I want. I’m a failure. I am disappointed in me.

I’ve gone from being completely overwhelmed to feeling absolutely nothing. I am empty, I am numb, I am nothing.

I no longer wish to live.

Isolated

Sorry again for the lack of posts. I just have nothing to say.

Today I am stressing out. It’s Australia Day here today and I have no desire to celebrate. I’ve successfully spent the entire day until now (3pm) doing some new cross stitch patterns. I find it therapeutic, a distraction from life, a calming influence.

This had to come to an end. I’m now trying to convince myself that I should not only shower, but wash my hair and do something with it other than my trademark bun on top of my head (those of you who know me know you rarely see me with it any other way!).

I’m not motivated. You see, I have been “strongly encouraged” to attend my father’s partner’s birthday dinner tonight. Let me explain why this is a problem. 1) I was not invited. I was told I should make myself available. Way to start off on the wrong foot. I don’t feel particularly inclined to attend something with that sense of obligation hanging over my head. 2) I do not like her, and she does not like me. So why am I invited? 3) The only people I will know there are my father and his partner. I don’t like meeting new people, certainly not in an environment with lots of established, middle-aged, working adults who expect the world from me and then some. 4) It’s dinner. Must I say any more? 5) There is only one vegetarian item on the menu that I checked online. It’s a risotto which is a food that scares me because they can hide so much fat and cream and butter in them without you seeing it. 6) My father’s partner thinks it’s her mission in life to a) get me to drink copious amounts of alcohol and b) tell me I’m wasting my life and should marry a rich man so I can go on overseas holidays. 7) I have to drive there and the roads are going to be crazy and it’s a place I’ve never driven to before so I don’t want to get lost, and because it’s Australia Day there’s likely to be a lot more people driving recklessly and under the influence of alcohol. I don’t really want to get involved in it all.

So I’m sitting here procrastinating taking a shower. Because my eczema is bad at the moment I can’t wear any makeup. I look fat in all my dresses but I can’t wear pants if I’m going to eat anything. I wish today didn’t exist.

Bad day

Today was crap. Anything good has been wiped from my mind. All I can think is how disgusting I am. What a failure I am.

I ate dinner. I had to. My dad and I went out. We had some vegetarian fresh spring rolls and vegetarian pad Thai. I was so anxious and the restaurant was so full and I felt like everyone was watching me eat. I couldn’t even wait until I drove home. I purged in the restaurant toilet. Thankfully they are very private. Then I pulled over on the 5 minute drive home and threw up in the bushes. I’ve spent the last hour since I got home sitting on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. I hate myself so much.

Why am I such a hopeless failure. I have no control. I can’t stop crying. I’m feeling desperate. Trying to distract myself because I don’t want to self harm when I’m going to Queensland next week. Can’t stop these thoughts. I hate this life.

Who’s in control?

Today I am struggling to regain control. Ana is in charge right now. Ever since a completely, idiotically ignorant phone call from my mother. She is doing a new detox (I won’t name it here) where you drink a pre-prepared drink mixed with water ONLY for two whole days. She said she was finding it so easy that she was considering becoming anorexic. What a stupid, triggering thing to say.

The tiny rational corner of my mind has insight, is telling me I know she’s stupid for saying it, and that I shouldn’t let it affect me. But Ana is ecstatic and full of power. I can have a reasonable excuse not to eat any food for days on end? Excellent. So many people in my life have no idea I have an eating disorder. If I tell them I’m doing a detox, then I don’t have to eat for appearances sake, and don’t have to purge. But then again there are enough people who do know who would recognise what I’m doing. The little piece of my mind is holding on to that. I can’t do it because they’ll know. They’ll stop me. But Ana is keen. So keen, in fact, that I went out and bought 2 bottles of the stuff since it was half price. Sitting here knowing I won’t eat tonight, wondering if I can get away with not eating tomorrow until dinner when my dad takes me to a restaurant. Then Friday at work I can use the drink – won’t have to eat anything at morning tea or lunch that way. Trying to talk Ana out of it. But that’s a waste of time.

I’m so disappointed because I felt I’d been doing reasonably ok with recovery. Lots of hiccups though. But things just started going downhill again.

The other morning I went out for brunch with a friend (who is aware of my ED) and since I’d known about it in advance I’d made a list of safe options to order. But we got there, sat down, and I couldn’t even make myself order a herbal tea. I sat there and had a tiny glass of water over 2 hours while she ate a breakfast of eggs and ham and all sorts of other fatty, calorie-dense, scary foods. I feel like she was disappointed in me.

I don’t know what to do. I’m out of control. I could barely force myself to drink water yesterday, in the 40 degree plus heat that Sydney had. How stupid. But it was just too scary for me. I’d rather die.

Trying

I’ve been trying so hard not to avoid situations with food. I’ve been eating semi-regularly and haven’t binged for a long time. But I still struggle to make myself keep the food in. I can see myself getting fatter. I can feel it. My clothes don’t fit. I avoid my reflection. I don’t like me. Everyone says when you start to eat normal, real food again in proper amounts that your thinking changes. Why haven’t I reached that stage? Why am I so bad at this whole concept of recovery? Today I just feel exhausted and fat. I haven’t done well with food, and I keep examining my body. Not good. Managed a fruit smoothie for breakfast and a quest protein bar as a morning snack. No plans for lunch as I feel so disgusting right now. I’ve eaten so many of my fear foods and such huge servings in public or around people and it’s just drained me. I don’t like people. And I don’t like food. Put them together and you have my personal hell.

Also a random question. While sitting here looking at old photos and in the mirror, I noticed my ribs always seem HUGE. Is this normal? Is it a genetic thing or something I can change? I look so out of proportion. WARNING yucky flabby skin showing in the photo coming up. Here’s a photo so you can see what I mean. It is NOT just in my head. My ribs are clearly even more massive than my stomach and hips. How? Why?

Messy mind

I’ve been struggling to hold things together the past few days. The straw that broke my back? The cover band I’m a member of told me they’ve noticed I’ve put on weight and if I want to stay in the band I need to lose weight by our next big gig. Firstly, I’m mortified that they’ve noticed my weight gain and actually been insensitive enough to mention it so bluntly. Secondly, I understand band members need to look good for gigs, but I’m by no means attractive, and they haven’t had a problem until now.

I feel like my friends are all moving on without me. Everyone has such amazing plans for 2013. Already 2013 is proving to be just as horrible as 2012. I’m tired of being the one trying to initiate contact. I’m tired of people not being there when I really need them. I’m tired of not being a priority to people who I would drop everything for just to help out.

I’m ridiculously physically worn out from moving boxes for days on end. No, I’m not moving house, my mother is. I moved out for a reason, and now she’s gone and found a house at the end of my street. To top it all off, she’s been on the other side of the country enjoying a holiday, leaving me to pack, transport and unpack her ridiculous amount of belongings. Since when do 2 people who share a bed need a three bedroom house?

I’m emotionally dead. Not numb. It’s like I’m feeling every feeling at once minus the positives. Somehow I have to find the energy to work and teach tomorrow, followed by some more moving and a belated birthday celebration for my mother on Thursday and then more moving on Friday.

I’m feeling hopeless and helpless and need some real life support from friends to get me back in to treatment and hopefully back on track to recovery.

I only got home after 10pm and my neighbours are playing ridiculously loud music and I’m grumpy and tired and I just want the world to go away. Please let tomorrow be kinder to me.

Back again

I know I haven’t been posting much. I haven’t felt there’s much point. Nothing has changed. I’m still fighting the constant battle, the struggle that is living with a mental illness.

Interestingly I’ve been spending significantly more time with others who are struggling with and/or are in recovery from mental illness, particularly eating disorders. I don’t think I’ve voluntarily spent time with anybody else for many weeks now. When I do reluctantly agree to meeting with these friends, it always ends up being centred around some sort of physical activity. Ice skating, rock climbing, walks, roller blading.

I’m too embarrassed to admit to people that I’ve been eating. And not in a good, recovery type way. I restrict and restrict and restrict and then I binge. When I do eat, I start with something “healthy”. But I can never stop. I’m out of control. And I hate myself. I’ve gained close to 5kg in a single month. I’m so ashamed of myself, my actions and how people must see me. No wonder I can’t get help, I don’t look sick. I’m not obese, and I’m not skeletal. Just fat. Everywhere.

I don’t think I can reach out anymore. It’s been months since I’ve been able to sit down with a friend and talk honestly about how I’m feeling. Now, I’m too scared to see anyone. Because I look ok. I sound ok. Because I’m too fucking good at pretending. I’m tired of putting on a smile. It takes so much energy. But I can’t put my self-loathing in to words. I can’t let people see me cry. I have to be strong. I know I’m a failure. But I can’t let other people see it.

Lost

I just feel lost. I don’t know how else to describe it. I don’t feel like I belong here, on this earth, in this life, in this body.

Against my better judgement I reached out for help. Again, I was knocked back. Why do I never learn? I understand people can’t always have time. But for people not to be able to let you talk about how you’re feeling for months on end… I don’t quite understand how that can be true. Nobody is really that busy. People make time for people they care about. Guess that means they don’t care about me. But then again, I don’t care about me, so why should they be any different?

Ana’s been really loud today. I haven’t gone against her as such, haven’t fought her, but have tried to ignore her. It’s not really working. I’m all over the place. I want help. I want to talk to someone, for them to support me, tell me getting help is the right thing to do, encourage me and help me to get that help that’s so hard to access. But at the same time I don’t want to keep fighting it, I want to take the easy (yet horribly painful, hate-filled and destructive) path, I want to let Ana make the decisions, I want to let go and give in.

Christmas is looming over me. I hate Christmas. Hate is not a strong enough word for it. Thankfully my mother and her partner will be on the other side of the country, so I don’t have to deal with them. I do, however, for some reason have to visit my father and his partner (who is JEWISH and doesn’t celebrate Christmas?!). She force-feeds me like a pig. Even if I didn’t have an eating disorder I think I would feel nauseous after eating there. I am dreading it so so much. Thinking about it makes me incredibly anxious. And then there’s the rest of this “festive” season. What am I supposed to do? No friends around. No study. No work. Nothing to distract me from myself. I’m absolutely terrified of this. I need to be with people. I’m not a social person. And being with people usually means food. So I say no to social events again and again. But that leaves me alone, with myself, with Ana, telling me not to eat, to go for runs, to spend hour after hour in the gym. I’m really scared.

I’ve made plans for next year, sure. I know what work I’m going to be doing, I’ve signed another 12 months on my lease because it was the easiest thing to do. I’ve quit the things I knew I needed to quit. But then what? What is my future? Another year like this one? No thanks. I don’t have the strength for that. I don’t have the motivation to live. Life is difficult, I don’t care what anyone says. I just don’t feel like it’s worth it. Not now. Not after losing so much.