ramblings of a crazed woman

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Be loud let your colors show

Try to keep the madness low

If they hear and it's wrong

And they come with torches on

Yeah come on

Be loud let your colors show

Try to keep the madness low

I tell them no with my hands

Make them understand the plan of it

Bright and gone

And I'm done forever

It's you and me forever

Cause I'm done forever

It's you and me forever

Be loud let the others know

First a whisper then it grows

I tell them go with my hands

Make them understand the last of it

Yeah come on, pain and all

Leave out pack your things and go

Leave the baby makers home

There's a time (now) and a place (now)

Someone built to take the race

When it calls you go head down

Head down don't you make a sound

Keep your plans all to yourself

They'll come true they follow you

They're what you're obligated to

Don't you listen to nobody else

And I'm done forever

It's you and me forever

Cause I'm done forever

See it's you and me forever

I'm not really sure what I want anymore. I fear that I've been compulsively overeating which has led to this tremendous weight gain.  I just can't handle my body at this weight.  It's completely unacceptable.  I wish it were easy. I wish I could eat normally and be at a decent weight and not care what my body looks like.  If only I had known just how ingrained this disorder would become.  If only I had known that it would take over my entire life, ruin relationships and cause me to crash and burn.  Most people have somewhat of a love/hate relationship with their body.  They gain five pounds over the holidays so they diet and take it off.  They care enough about themselves to give their body what it needs.  A person with an eating disorder will not do that.  My mom is remodeling my bathroom so I have to use hers and the mirrors are horrific.  It's like everywhere I turn I see fat and rolls and blubber.  I need to stick to a meal plan and I'm starting tomorrow.  Today was okay

My mood was okay.  I spent the day with a good friend who is still in treatment.  Of course there was the comparison factor.  I just don't think it's fair that I have to be so big.  There's that and she engaged in behavior and would make simple comments about food.  Part of me just wanted to shake her disorder and knock some sense into it, or better yet rid her of this disease.  I see so many talented, intelligent and beautiful women losing their life to this disease and I hate it.  I hate it with the same passion I hate my body.  I just want to shake this disorder out of them.

If only it was just about the weight.  It's so much more than that.  It gives me security and it gives me my mother.  Here we go again with the mommy complex.  I wish it weren't an issue but unfortunately it is.  I'm living with my mother right now and in the past it was pure hell(I was also VERY eating disordered which caused a lot of tension).  Things are okay.  Not great, but okay.  For once I want my mother to just accept me for who I am and not who she wants me to be.  She says she does it with good intentions and I don't doubt that but it doesn't make it any less annoying. 


My eating diosrder gives me the opportunity to focus on something other than what lies in your head.  I'm afraid of what is in my mind, I'm afraid that deep down I am a bad person  I know right from wrong

I can't let go

There, I've said it.  I can't let go of my eating disorder.  I have no intention of doing so.  Not until I have proved myself a good anorexic.  Yes, I am aware of how silly that seems but I despise  my body.  I hate it with such a passion that it's quite sad actually.  I just miss my old body.  I miss thighs that don't touch and boobs that aren't there.  I miss the chest bones and being able to see and count my ribs.  I loved the bump bump bump of my lower spine now it's just the top. 

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 I sat for about 30 minutes in the shower today just letting the water hit my body, my eyes closed, hoping to drown out the sound of my mind.  Unfortunately that's not always the case.  As each drop of water hit my skin I wished it were a tiny pellet penetrating my skin, something to snap me out of this funk.  Something to make me feel something or anything other than hopeless and disgusted.  I cannot even change or shower with my eyes open these days I am so disgusted by my body.  These breasts are not mine.  What happened to the hollow right in the middle and the chest bones so prominent?  A dear friend of mine came to visit me yesterday and told me that this was the important part, the gate.  She said she knows it's uncomfortable but I need a healthy body or I could die.  I realize that but my mind, oh my mind.  My mind is in quite possibly the worst state it's been since I tried to kill myself earlier this year.  I just don't see the point in anything really.

I never wanted this. If I had known exactly what it entailed I wouldn't have wanted it. Or maybe I still would have, maybe I just hated myself enough then that I would have thought any amount of suffering, small or large, was what I needed and deserved. You can never truly know what it's like to hate your body with such passion unless you have an eating disorder. I didn't know then that it would grab me by my shoulders and pull me down so quickly and bury me deep within the earth. I didn't know that not only would it bury me but it would build mountains and make lakes above me so that it's damn near impossible to get out. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but how could I? I read the books, did the research but you don't know the hell of an eating disorder until you develop one.

I hate myself. I honestly hate myself. I hate who I am on the inside. I hate who I am on the outside, and I hate that people notice my appearance. I hate it when people stop and glance back for a double take. I hate that they are so obvious and I hate that by now it's become obvious. I have spent the last ten years running from some former version of me. I hate the things that I've done, the people I've hurt and I hate the things that have happened to me. I wake up every morning and am both amazed and disappointed that I'm still alive. I have always been terrified of getting older. It's a terror that causes my body to tremble and my mind to blank. It's a terror that causes my mood to dip and my body/mind to turn to a device that numbs. I dealt with it before by taking a blade to my skin and becoming nothing more than a pile of bones covered in skin. How do I deal with it now? It's not like I can prevent it, getting older is inevitable and, quite honestly, a right of passage. How do I deal with the demons inside my head? How do I prevent my mind from going into such dark and deep places?

My mother wasn't there for me, I get it. I get that it makes sense for me to have issues surrounding that. This is the part where I should cry and ask her to be there for me and happily ever fucking after right? Wrong. When I was younger I made a pact with myself that I would never show any emotion to her. She tore me away from my family and my home, she tore me away from the desert. She planted me somewhere and never bothered to help me deal with such a major transition. She gave me a roof over my head, a bed to sleep and put clothes on my back. She fulfilled her parental obligations and left it at that. I had watched her pick and tear at my sister. I watched my mom yell and scream and throw things. I held my sisters hand as she wiped the blood from her face and sobbed. My sister left and I was alone with her. I became the outlet. I became her punching bag and her target, if you will. It wasn't quite as bad at first, it was more neglect than anything else. She was a single mother trying to support her children without any help, and she reminded us on a daily basis. She told us we should be happy because we were alive. She told me that she should have had an abortion and that I ruined her life and we should be more appreciative. Tip toe through the house now girls, you don't want to wake mommy. Stop that now girls, you aren't being what I want you to be. Girls, how many times do I have to tell to stop being children and stop needing things children need? Don't cry girls, can't you see how hard I've worked? I've done everything for the two of you. I put clothes on your back and gave you a roof over your head, the least you can do is smile and be studious and thank me daily for all my hard work. What's that? Oh, I'm sorry your life must be so hard being a child, quit feeling sorry for yourself.

Everything she said and did was completely irrational. When I was 14 I overslept and missed the bus, she had to take me. The next morning she came in my room at 4am and told me to get up. I told her I was tired and would wake up at 6am. She yelled at me and said she wasn't going to take me to school if I missed the bus and stormed out. She came back in with a bucket of ice water and dumped it on me. I said, "what the hell?" and she started yelling at me telling me to "GET OUT OF THE FUCKING BED YOU LITTLE BITCH!" I got up and went into the dining room. She was stomping around, slamming things and started throwing Tupperware at me. I begged her to stop and to calm down, she ignored me. She left big bruises all over my legs and a week later asked me how I got them. In high school I took honors and AP chem and stayed late one day after cross country practice to get some help with it. She was supposed to pick me up at 4:30pm. I waited until 7:45. I sat there and waited and kept reassuring the principal and school sheriff that my mom was coming. Finally they told me I couldn't be on school property anymore and had to leave. The sheriff gave me a ride home and on the way we passed my mom. I instantly knew I was going to be in trouble. When she got home she started yelling at me and telling me that she was never going to pick me up from school again because I wasn't there. I tried to explain to her that I couldn't stay there any longer and "what was I supposed to do mom, tell the sheriff 'no thanks, my mom is coming?" Those are the kind of things that happened on a regular basis. I forget to take the trash to the curb so she dumps all the trash(including food waste) in my room. She comes home and one of the dogs has puked on the carpet, she picks up the rug and tries to shove it onto my face, I try to stop her and she backhands me. I don't make my bed so she takes it away and I'm left with a pile of boards stacked up in my room. I didn't do the laundry so she takes away my clothes.

It's not fair, it's just NOT FUCKING FAIR! I feel like by posting this I am wallowing in self pity. I would give anything for all of that to just be a lie. I run from this, I run from the sexual abuse/exploitation because it's painful but also because it means there's a whole hell of a lot more on my plate(no pun intended) than I ever bargained for. I run because I worry that I will never be normal and I've spent a lot of time trying to convince myself I was. They say your past makes you who you are and while I don't doubt that I just don't know how to deal with it. I can accept my mom for who she is today because she has changed, she was forced to change. After my behaviors were revealed to the guidance counselor and my bruises revealed to my band director she was forced to change. She was forced to acknowledge that there was a problem. At first she spent all her time blaming my "mental illness" and "oh poor me" I have a daughter who is mentally ill. mentally ill my mother fucking ass you bitch! My actions do not automatically equal a mental illness, they are a reaction, an inability to cope with what life has so thoughtfully thrown my way. They held a mirror to her face and forced to look at herself.

What bothers me is that, in the end, it's not her actions or my past that's the problem. I've removed myself so far from any and all emotions that feeling anything is painful. I worry that I am destined to search endlessly for something I can never have and never had. I have tried, and failed, all my life to get what I didn't get then. I WANT A FUCKING CHILDHOOD god dammit! I want someone to love me no matter what, no matter how flawed. I want someone to hold me and take care of but am too embarrassed to ever admit that. I don't let people love me though because I fear I am unlovable

/novel like entry

I feel myself floating, floating above myself. The world around me is merely an object to observe, a way to pass the time. The clock is ticking and my time is running out. The clock sings to me and tells me another hour has passed, it reminds me of what I have done with my life, absolutely fucking nothing.

The little girl is twiddling her thumbs, except the little girl isn't so little anymore. She is grown, but doesn't know she's grown. She is longing for what she missed. Go ahead and paint yourself a picture, you can paint it with the prettiest colors in the world. You can paint it with happiness and sequins and diamonds and all the love in the world. Create your masterpiece out of cardboard and clay but in the end it's still just cardboard and clay.

She doesn't know it yet. She doesn't know what lies before her. She creates images in her head of what could be and what has been. She spends her time either with her head in the clouds or with her mind in places that terrify. She needs everything yet wants nothing. She smiles at people in hopes they smile back. Mother always said to lend a helping hand because you get what you give. It's best to listen to mother because mother knows best and mother is never wrong. She's a good little girl and doesn't give much of a fuss. To fuss is to complain and complaining never got anyone anywhere now did it? Mother says, "hush, little girl and wipe those tears. they are not needed and you are making a scene" "cut that out now, little girl, quit feeling sorry for yourself." So the little girl laughed and played and danced around as if all the world was good. The little girl never told anyone her secrets, because secrets are meant to be kept. "It's a difficult place to be," she says, "but you learn to live."

So they think focusing on my mom is not a good idea but it's hard when you're mother has told you over and over again that you are a burden and that you should suck it up because she worked so hard for you.  

She sent me this email:

Hi Karina,

I am giving you back your disease. I will not talk about it with you or participate in it with you. Do not ask me if you look fat or tell me that you don’t want to eat something because it has so much fat in it. I cannot help you defeat it. Do not expect me to cover for you about it, or make excuses for you to NOT tell people about it. My communications with other people will be honest and will be my own. You do not have any input in my communications with others.

Do not expect me act like the disease doesn’t exist.

I will be a long, long time before I trust you again. You shouldn’t be upset about that. It is a natural consequence of your actions. This goes way beyond the ED. This involves all basic forms of trust, and includes the fact that I have decided you are not welcome in my home. I need for my home to be a place where I can let my guard down and truly relax.

I am reclaiming all the effort and energy, time and money that I have previously devoted to you and your disease. You must face this on your own, with out any assistance from me in hiding it, denying it, or using it to your advantage to get what you want. I am done with it. I don’t think you have any idea how much I invested in your future, in trying to make sure you were alright. I failed in all those efforts and only ended up resenting how much of me you were taking and using, without appreciating my sacrifices. So, I am changing the way I deal with you.

This is the only way I survive. I don’t have any other choices. Remember, I love you and will always love you, but from now on it will be only love that you get from me.



Mom

There are locks on the doors
And chains stretched across all the entries to the inside
There's a gate and a fence
And bars to protect from only God knows what lurks outside

Who stole your heart left you with a space
That no one and nothing can fill
Who stole your heart who took it away
Knowing that without it you can't live

Who took away the part so essential to the whole
Left you a hollow body
Skin and bone
What robber what thief who stole your heart and the key

Who stole your heart
The smile from your face
The innocence the light from your eyes
Who stole your heart or did you give it away
And if so then when and why

Who took away the part so essential to the whole
Left you a hollow body
Skin and bone
What robber what thief
Who stole your heart and the key

Now all sentiment is gone
Now you have no trust in no one

Who stole your heart
Did you know but forget the method and moment in time
Was it a trickster using mirrors and sleight of hand
A strong elixir or a potion that you drank

Who hurt your heart
Bruised it in a place
That no one and nothing can heal
You've gone to wizards, princes and magic men
You've gone to witches, the good the bad the indifferent

But still all sentiment is gone
But still you have no trust in no one

If you can tear down the walls
Throw your armor away remove all roadblocks barricades
If you can forget there are bandits and dragons to slay
And don't forget that you defend an empty space

And remember the tinman
Found he had what he thought he lacked
Remember the tinman
Go find your heart and take it back

Who stole your heart
Maybe no one can say
One day you will find it I pray