her kindness bangs a gong

ramblings of a crazed woman

2011-03-29T02:35:00.000-04:00

[IMG]http://i263.photobucket.com/albums/ii138/EmilyRose420_Topaz/Emo/emo-1.jpg[/IMG]

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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

2010-10-29T20:43:00.000-04:00

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.

2010-10-16T21:00:00.000-04:00

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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.

2010-10-03T11:48:00.000-04:00

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

2010-10-03T11:47:00.002-04:00

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."

2010-10-01T20:29:00.000-04:00

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

2010-09-27T19:24:00.002-04:00

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

2010-09-26T19:47:00.000-04:00

So I spoke to my mother yesterday and she said she would come visit me. She wrote some inappropriate thing on my wall and I'm not sure why I even friended her. She said my page was pathetic or something of the sort. I blocked my mother from viewing most of my profile. I dressed up nicely, painted something for her and nothing. I sat on the porch rocking from 2pm to 5:30pm when visiting hours ended at 5pm.

So the story goes, she paints her face all pretty and sprays herself with pretty smells and puts on a pretty little dress. She dances and shouts and screams and yet the mother stares straight ahead.

2010-09-25T20:22:00.001-04:00

Honey broadripple is burning
and the girls are gettin sick
off snorting coke up in the bathroom
while their boyfriends pick up chicks
and darling i'm lost
i heard you whispering
that night in fountain square
trashed the streets makes me wish that i'd go home
there?was love?inside the basement
way back home we used to lie
in a sleeping?bag we shared upon
the floor for?almost every night
oh darling i'm drunk
everything that i had loved has turned to stone
so pack your bags and come back home
yeah i'm wasted
you can taste it
don't look at me that way
cause i'll be hanging from a rope
i'll be hangin from a rope
if my woman was a fire
she'd burn out before i wake
and be replaced by pounds of whiskey
cigarettes and outer space
then somebody moves
and everything you thought you had has gone to shit
we've got a lot
don't ever forget that
and i wrote this on airplane where the people look like ants
and when a woman that you love is gone
she was bombing east japan
don't fucking move
cause everything you think you have will go to shit
we've got a lot
don't ever forget that
yeah i'm wasted
you can taste it
don't look at me that way
cause i'll be hanging from a rope
i'll be hangin from a rope
yeah i'm wasted
you can taste it
don't look at me that way
cause i'll be hanging from a rope
i'll be hangin from a rope

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I've come to a very hard conclusion. I am flawed, I am numb and my defensive mechanism is still intact. I am getting frustrated at every little thing I get irritated at the inconsistency of staff, I get annoyed if I have to sit at the table when I'm done. My diseases/addiction has found another outlet, well besides art that is but that's only a small portion. I'm incredibly frustrated. I'm starting to get pissed off at the simplest of things. In all honesty I think it might be the part of me that doesn't want to deal with things. My ED is pissed, the cutter in me is pissed. I am left raw and numb and most importantly vulnerable. There are voices in my head screaming at me. My ED is SCREAMING "You fat fucking worthless piece of shit." There's a voice whispering, "Just one cut and you'll feel better." I can't stand feeling especially vulnerable. I can't say out loud that DARIUS IS DEAD or that I want my mother to care, I want to feel loved, I wanted her to hug me.

the art of acting

2010-09-22T20:32:00.000-04:00

I lock the door
Turn on the water
Bury that sound
So no one hears anything anymore
Mirrors lie to me, tell me you can see
Maybe you won't be able to recognize me now
I know you can feel, all the things you steal
And you're taking, you're takin it

Feeling so easy
Make me skin and bones
I'm always on my knees for you
You break like it's even
When you're faking it
Thin, Where have you been?

Well sometimes it burns
Baby I'll wash it out
It all look so big
Nevermind, I don't feel anything

It only hurt a bit
I still feel like shit
And I think you won't be able to recognize me now
It's easier to quit
Harder to admit and
You're pushin me, you're fucking pushin me!

Feeling so easy
Make me skin and bones
I'm always on my knees for you
You break like it's even
When you're faking it
Thin, Where have you been?

Cause you always win
You always win

Laughin' like it works
Bleeding like it dont hurt
Knock you off your feet
Even if you need me
Tear you apart, hey now i need you

Feeling too easy make me skin and bones
Im always on my knees for you
Break like its even
When your fakin

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I feel bad for deceiving people. I know logically I could have died. I know how close to death I truly was, I know that a heart rate of 30 is dangerous and I know that when you're blood pressure drops to 60/32 it's death. I know all of this but I still can't help but want to go back. I really sort of wish my insurance will actually pull out after 30 days. So they're good at fighting insurance but they weren't the ones who fought with my insurance company to get me here. I made EVERY GOD DAMN STEP. I hate that though, I hate that I fought so hard to get here but just because I gained weight in the goddamn hospital because of the fucking doctor I am unworthy of treatment. I came in fat and I wasn't, I wasn't fat before and I'm not lying.

2010-09-21T20:44:00.000-04:00

All I want is something good
It gets harder every time
She is leaving here tonight
Take a breath
Take your time
Spread your wings and rise
Make a mark upon the wall
Paint your face and pass the time
Close your eyes as she ascends
Hold your breath and ease your mind
Forty thousand times
Time ...fades into the night
They descend and then they climb
Feathers falling through the night
Have you seen Ohio rise?
It has been four days and nights
All I want is something fine
It gets harder every time
She is sleeping far away
Take a breath
Take your time
Spread your wings and rise
Rise into the black Ohio skies
They descend and then they climb
Feathers falling through the night
Have you seen ohio rise
It has been four days and nights

Counting Crows

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"All of these quiet battered voices/Wait for the hunger to come/We got little revolvers and stupid choices
And no one to say when we're done" Counting Crows

I don't think I realized how much being in the fucking state hospital and greenhouse really bothered me. Being shuffled back and forth because I'm not allowed to be with my mom but I'm too much to handle for regular foster care. I hate the part of my life and I hate my former selves. I feel as if I am always trying to change or mold myself into someone and I haven't quite gotten the molding just right. There are always kinks and scratches, missing parts. I used to wonder if maybe somehow I came off the conveyor belt faulty. I asked my mother if she was going to come visit and she said she was and that she was going to bring the dog(to be quite honest I was more excited about Duke than I was her). I asked her to bring my ipod and she brought stuff and I just sent a text asking her if she wasn't able to find my ipod and her response was, "What's wrong now? I still haven't done enough for you?"

I know it's her shit not mine but it doesn't make it any easier.

The bible didn't mention us

2010-09-20T19:41:00.000-04:00

Strung out, needle in arm
And the ocean is bleeding salt on your wounds
So I sat, as armies marched
But you found me awake but asleep on the porch

And don't you cry, my darling
Nashville is forgotten
And don't you cry, my darling
New York is the ocean

Brooklyn, quiet and cold
When the bars close
You're stuck counting cracks on the street

Then war breaks, and you're swinging the gun
But when the bomb drops
You're stuck counting cracks in your teeth

And don't you cry, my darling
Nashville is forgotten
And don't you cry, my darling
New York is the ocean

Strung out, needle in arm
And the ocean is bleeding salt on your wounds

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My mood is heading down, I can feel it. It's a tug and a pull and then a fall from a cliff. I can't help but wonder why I even bothered coming here because I can't handle things without my eating disorder. I'm not only having urges to cut but things that I haven't done in years are crossing my mind. I want to burn myself with salt and ice, I want to dig my nails into my arm like I did when I was little.

I never thought I would actually say this but I have to get out of Durham and Roxboro is even worse. My mom wants me in Roxboro but I can't do it. They both reek of sick and eating disorder. With Roxboro, I hate running into people I went to high school with for many reasons. One of which is that they all know I left and they know I left because I was cutting and because my mom was hitting me. It reminds me of the three months I spent in John Umstead, the screams and yells and me sitting silently on my bed, arms wrapped around my knees and shaking. The sounds still bother me, I went to visit someone when I was and had a panic attack. What bothers me the most is that she still denies any fault and just to feel like you're fucked up and crazy and it's all your fault is the worst.

I feel like I should be writing about how much I want recovery even though it's hard but that's not how I feel. I want my body back, I want it back so badly. I tried on the jeans and shirt I wore pre-hospitalization and the difference is horrendous. I stare at my body as if it is some foreign object, something that isn't mine. It can't be mine. I feel like I am 12 years old again going through puberty, seeing the soft belly and the hips get wider, the boobs get bigger. If I could just be 15 pounds less. I don't ask for much, I'm not asking to be emaciated I just can't handle THIS. 110, 110 is a good number, it's a solid not emaciated but not fat. I don't know what's worse having the Buddha belly or seeing the redistribution.

disappointment

2010-09-19T18:00:00.001-04:00

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Listening to Dylan right now and while it's nice it certainly doesn't help my mood at the moment. I asked my mother if she was going to come visit me and she said yes but then at the last minute said she wasn't going to come for one reason or another, at this point they are all the same. I spent five weeks in the hospital and she came to visit TWICE, only twice. One of which was simply because I had her phone. I like to chalk it up to the fact that seeing her daughter there connected to a heart monitor, IV fluids, catheter and on complete bed rest could be hard. Maybe like I said before it's a matter of the girl who cried sick. Maybe it's just become too much for her. I want to say that she just gave up on me but then again where was she my entire life. It's sad when I can say that my sister is a bigger support than my own mother. I know my mother loves me but my sister(s) are more supportive. Sam is being beyond wonderful when it comes to this. She is being the cheerleader rooting for me, taking the place of my mother. Cordelia keeps texting me and wants me to call her but since I have roaming.

Oy vey, I hate this god damn mommy complex I have. I can't stand the woman but at the same time I long for her approval and her recognition and praise. I wish I felt like she loved me and I wish she cared enough to want to be with me. I wish I didn't disgust her. If your own mother says that she is disgusted by you or that you ruined her life how are you supposed to feel? I dance a dance, then change the choreography then paint my face with pretty colors and still no mother.

There's a small part of me that just wants to wash my hands clean of her since that appears to be what she's in the process of but I can't help it. I hate that she was never there for me as a kid. I hate the things she said to me growing up. I hate the way she acted and I hate what she's done not only to me but to my sister, neither of us deserved it.

"some days aren't yours at all, they come and go as if they are someone elses days, they come and leave bearing someone else's face and it's harsher than yours and colder than yours, they come in all quiet sweep back and then they leave, and you don't hear a single floor board creek, they're so much stronger than the friends you try to keep by your side, down down down down, I'm not here, not anymore I've gone away don't call come don't write." Regina Spektor

"Tell me when you hear my silence/There's a possibility I wouldn't know/So tell me when my sigh is over/You're the reason why I'm closed/Tell me when you hear me falling/There's a possibility it wouldn't show"

2010-09-18T20:27:00.000-04:00

I have to drive
I have my reasons, dear
It’s cold outside
I hate the seasons here

I suffer mornings most of all
I feel so powerless and small
By ten o’clock I’m back in bed
Fighting the jury in my head

You learn to drive
It’s only natural, dear
You drive all night
We haven’t slept in years

We suffer mornings most of all
We saw you lying in the road
We tried to dig a decent grave
But it’s still no way to behave

It is a delicate position
Spin the bottle
Pick the victim
Catch a tiger
Switch directions
If he hollers
Break his ankles
To protect him

We’ll have to drive
They’re getting closer
Just get inside
It’s almost over

We will save your brothers
We will save your cousins
We will drive them far away
From streets and lights
From all signs of bad mankind

We suffer mornings most of all
Wake up all bleary eyed and sore
Forgetting everything we saw
(I’ll meet you in an hour
at the car)

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I'm having a really hard time and I'm not quite sure why. I mean I can guess but who the hell knows. It could just be me being fucked up as usual. I'm having all kinds of urges and it's getting harder and harder to fight them all. If someone is opening the sharps cabinet I get triggered. I understand why I am triggered but it doesn't make it easier. I don't feel like I deserve to eat, my boobs are huge and my thighs are huge and they touch and my stomach is distended. It's just too much for me right now. I want that safe space back. It was hell, don't get me wrong but at least I was safe. I was in my own little eating disordered bubble, one in which nothing could touch me because I was skinny.

I was talking to my friend Mary about how I felt like I was mourning the loss of my eating disorder and it truly feels that way. I've bypassed the denial, felt the anger and now bargaining. I came here truly wanting to get better but I think the fact that my weight and size was what it was when I got here is what bothers me. No, actually it's not because if that were it then I wouldn't want to go back. I don't want to be labeled chronic but unfortunately so many of eating disordered people are labeled chronic. Can I at least have some time in between to try to see if I can live without it. Unfortunately I will just run out of options. I am the little girl who cried sick.

I have so many things to work on and I know the biggest being the sexual abuse. I am not even going to label it as trauma not because it isn't but because it's the one thing I know I can't work on on an outpatient basis.

I still hate my body with a passion and don't deserve to eat.

Triggers triggers everywhere

2010-09-17T19:56:00.001-04:00

Some days aren't yours at all,
They come and go
As if they're someone else's days
They come and leave you behind someone else's face
And it's harsher than yours
And colder than yours

They come in all quiet
Sweep up and then they leave
And you don't hear a single floor board creak
They're so much stronger
Than the friends you try to keep
By your side

Downtown, Downtown
I'm not here, not anymore
I've gone away
Don't call me, don't write

I'm in love with your daughter
I wanna have her baby
I'm in love with your daughter
So can I please

Downtown, Downtown
I'm not here, not anymore
I've gone away
Don't call me, don't write
I've gone away
Don't call me, don't write
Don't call me, don't call me, don't call me
Don't write, don't write, don't write, don't write, don't write
Somedays aren't yours at all
They come and go
As if they're someone else's days
They come and leave you behind someone else's face
And it's harsher than yours
And it's colder than yours...

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

Again I don't even know quite where to begin, then again isn't that always the case. Something inside me snapped today, it snapped and I wish it could be pieced back together again. It brought up feelings of shame and disgust and everything she tells me that I am. I wasn't able to speak without a flood of tears which some know is a big fear of mine so instead I kept my mouth shut, staring straight ahead I cannot cry. I cannot and will not cry it's not okay. The thing that snapped was when I was confronted with an issue in interpersonal which had already been dealt with in a personal way. I spoke to her about it, apologized and told her that I had not taken her headphones on purpose. I mean for fucks sake people they all look the goddamn same. I remembered my mom though. I remembered the time my mom shouted and threw a bottle of lotion at my sister and back handed her all because she used two pumps of her lotion and used the makeup mirror my mom has. I always thought this was normal until I began to see the interactions in Haley's family. They had no qualms over a few pumps of lotion. I mean fuck Haley borrowed one of Tami's favorite rings, one that was sort of priceless in terms of sentiment and she lost it. How did Tami react? She didn't throw anything, she didn't tell her that she was a horrible person and selfish and that the world didn't revolve around her.

I don't know though, I think I just already have it so deeply ingrained that I am a bad person, that I am something to be ashamed of and when I make a mistake or a "mistake" I immediately want to run or crawl into a hole for awhile. I feel like a bad person deep down and it's trivial and I hate that I can't quite articulate it the way I would like to but that's the best I can come up with.

I am also getting somewhat of cabin fever. I was in the hospital for five weeks and here two.

2010-09-16T17:54:00.001-04:00

Shame, boatloads of shame
Day after day, more of the same
Blame, please lift it off
Please take it off, please make it stop

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

It's been pointed out to me that I can talk and not feel, that words just roll off my tongue and it's as if nothing has ever happened. I am numb and that is one thing I do know. I feel the feelings deep down, like a body of water held back by a dam waiting for the dam to break. What if the water never stops flowing, what if I really am truly crazy? It's something I have suspected for quite some time and it's one of my greatest fears. I know that if I question the fact that I am crazy then I am not crazy but that doesn't change the fear of becoming crazy. I don't talk about a lot of things because if I talk with feeling then it means they are real and that terrifies me. I don't want things to be real but I want to feel real which is something that hasn't happened in quite some time. Judy once asked me what it would be like to speak about the things that trouble and torment me. She asked me what it would be like to know that I can bring them to her and she can help me carry those emotions. I could never do that, because deep down I am ashamed of who I am and what I've done, what I've allowed to happen.

I'm listening to Regina Spektor right now and it hurts. It hurts because it reminds me of sitting down with Haley holding her hand or rubbing her back or with my arms wrapped around her. The images will never go away. The image of the extension cord, the chair the chilled to the bone feeling while going through his stuff. I can't even really begin to explain what that period of my life was like. It was short yet so much emotion and so many feeling. I don't know whether it was because I felt like I was running from one person to the next bandaging and re-bandaging their wounds all the while ignoring the fact that someone I cared deeply for fucking hung himself.

The house was right across the street. It's the fucking worst possible scenario because there's no escaping it. Every night I sat there in the chair smoking staring at the house. It was empty for awhile and it was almost as if the house was taunting me, then a family moved in and it was almost as if the house was mocking me. The lights on knowing full well that I wouldn't walk in to find Darius but rather some stranger.

by the way my therapist in residential wants me to write

2010-06-11T14:23:00.000-04:00

I have taken a wrong turn When will I learn. When will I learn? Should I show them all my scars? Cherry red bleeding burn
Like an angry apple tree I throw my apples if you get too close to me
But if I look to my right, will I see the one I fight for If I look to my right Or if I turn to my left, we I see that I have kept my heart Locked up, locked up so tight
Love, love, love is everywhere But not a drop for me to drink Tie me up and bind my feet Drop me in and watch me sink
Like an angry apple tree I throw my apples if you get too close to me
But if I look to my right, will I see the one I fight for If I look to my right Or if I turn to my left, we I see that I have kept my heart Locked up, locked up
If I was 17 I could find it in-between The cushions of somebody's couch I could find it. I could find it If I was 17 I could find it in a dream A dime a dozen kind of love I could find it. I could find it But I'm not 17 and I lost it in-between The birthday cakes and fast mistakes That roll by Ba da ba ba da ba ba, ba da ba ba da ba da dum
But if I look to my right, will I see the one I fight for If I look to my right Or if I turn to my left, we I see that I have kept my heart Locked up, locked up

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

I had an appointment Wednesday at the Duke Eating Disorders clinic. It was an interesting experience to say the least. The last time I was there I was "discharged" from the program because "a higher level of care is recommended and patient presents with a low weight and unstable vital signs." I asked to be seen so that I could have some documentation from a specialist supporting medical necessity for the appeal to my insurance company. The appointment ended up being over two hours long. The doctor used the word thin in one form or another at least five times. She said that it was clear that my body has suffered from severe malnutrition. She congratulated me on being "proactive" and making the decision to take the next step in my recovery. If only it were that simple. If only my insurance company wasn't being such a dick right now. My mom is putting together an appeal packet. The letter of denial was filled with errors. They filed the claim based on psychiatry necessity and not for Eating Disorder specific treatment. They also filled the claim with UNC listed as the residential facility and not Carolina House.

My heart is not doing so well. She told me that it wasn't beating properly and she spent a ridiculously and worringly long time listening to it. My EKG was abnormal but I am not sure what the results were because I was not told and when I tried to peek at it I couldn't see it. The nurse had to get three seperate readings and brought the doctor back in after the first one. She listened to my heart again and told me that the results were abnormal but that it's to be expected because of my "thinness," behaviors, activity and general malnutrition. My potassium was low, my phosphorous was high and other lab results were off. I'm supposed to go to the hospital and I am killing time because I want to know how off. I sent the doctor an email and havent' heard back. I am just sick and tired of ER visits and because this is the Duke ER I don't want to be seen as some fucking hypochondriac. On the other hand, I've been having chest pains and I walked here and I had a hard time walking here. I had to stop and catch my breath.

I'm scared.

2010-06-04T00:23:00.000-04:00

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 have always been able to articulate myself really well. I've always been able to speak openly and coherently and in a somewhat poetic form. My mind is so chaotic that I am unable to even start talking. 2009 was a terrible year. It brought pain, despair, death and illness, but most importantly it caused something inside me to snap. It lit a fire under my ass and it's the year I truly lost my mind. I cannot say exactly why because every time my mind goes there it runs right back to the disorder. I am fighting a battle for my life and my sanity. I am fighting my insurance company so that I can have the opportunity to move forward with my life. A dear friend of mine said it's like I am fighting to fight for my life.

and it goes on and on my friend

2010-05-04T16:25:00.000-04:00

I went to a copper to fix a hole in my shoe
He took one look at my face and said "I can fix that hole in you"

I beg your pardon I'm not looking for a cure
I've seen enough of my friends in the depths of the Godsick blues

You know I'm a liar (liar)

You know I'm a liar (liar)
Nobody helps a liar (liar)

Cause I've been down to Dixie and dropped acid on my tongue
Tripped upon the land till enough was enough

I was a little bit lighter
And adventure on my sleeve

I was a little drunk and looking for company

So I found myself a sweetheart with the softest of hands

We were unlucky in love but I'd do it all again

We built ourselves a fire (fire)

You know I'm a liar (liar)

And you don't know what I've done

And by the rolling river is exactly where I was

There was no snake or cure for unlucky in love

To be lonely is a habit like smoking or taking drugs

And I've quit them both but man was it rough

(Man was it rough)

And now I am tired (tired)

It just made me tired (tired)

Lets build ourselves a fire (fire)
Lets build ourselves a fire (fire)

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

I don't really know what to think right now. I know that I can't work at my job right now because it's too physically and mentally draining. I feel as if I am crawling out of my skin. I can't help but feel hopeless and I feel myself spiraling down. They started me on effexor again and I don't know. I hope it works but I can't help but feel that I am flawed, then again don't I always? I feel crazy, am crazy always have been crazy. That's the way the cookie crumbles I suppose. I feel like I have a hundred different things pulling me in a million different directions right now and I just want to cover my ears with my hands and shake my head. "I'm going insane," she said.

chaotic crisis living in a dream

2010-05-03T18:56:00.000-04:00

Strung out, needle in arm

And the ocean is bleeding salt on your wounds

So I sat, as armies marched

But you found me awake but asleep on the porch

And don't you cry, my darling

Nashville is forgotten

And don't you cry, my darling

New York is the ocean

Brooklyn, quiet and cold

When the bars close

You're stuck counting cracks on the street

Then war breaks, and you're swinging the gun

But when the bomb drops

You're stuck counting cracks in your teeth

And don't you cry, my darling

Nashville is forgotten

And don't you cry, my darling

New York is the ocean

Strung out, needle in armAnd the ocean is bleeding salt on your wounds

To not have control over your mind is a terrible thing and it's one of my greatest fears. To be honest I can't remember the last time I ever really did. There's always some pull, something begging me to look away, something pulling me down, pulling me this way and that. "Don't look," it says. My mind is constantly playing tricks on me but never ones like this. It moves faster than I can articulate. It's tugging at my body and and pulling at my skin. "RUN! leave. NOW! move, you must keep moving!" I cannot seek comfort in my head like I have in the past, I cannot seek comfort in a bed with a bottle of pills and liquor or whatever substance is readily available, it calms me down but does not stop me. The days blur into one another and eventually become one in the same, they are a constant state of motion. It's a motion I cannot remember save for bits and pieces here and there and the things I cannot ignore such as the headlight on my car that was knocked loose and I don't remember how that happened and I know I wasn't intoxicated.

I am not myself, the world outside of me is not real, I am not real, I am merely an object of my imagination in a world that is moving entirely too fast. I am in the middle of a bad acid trip and the world is in both technicolor and black and white and moving at pace entirely too fast all the while my mind and body are grey and white and I am at a complete standstill. I know what is coming next for I have been this road before. I would give anything to burst through these barriers and jump right into the speed of life, faster than life even, to be amongst the cars on the freeways, to have the intensity so that I could feel something, anything and everything and so that for once, I know that I am real and I am here. Then, of course, it hits like a wave crashing down knocking me against the ground bloodying my body and leaving me raw. I know I have to get out of there because the sharks will have a field day with me if I don't. They can sense the fear and the blood and the vulnerability. My body is like a ton of lead and my mind is a dark, dark place. It goes places that terrify me and nothing seems to shake it and I am back to square one.

Into the Looking Glass

2010-04-01T23:11:00.000-04:00

The days seem to blur into one another, time is of the essence yet it means nothing. Night is day and day is night. The only thing that signals a difference is the moment I change into my work clothes. Then I know it is time for hell. I run around like a chicken with its head cut off for no reason, no thank you, no acknowledgment, no high-five like there always has been. My nights are spent laying awake tossing and turning, waiting for something to change, anything to change. For the love of god, let something change. I have used an entire months worth of ativan in two weeks and am abusing my topomax to the point where my hands begin to curl into themselves. The bottle and nifty little information packet that comes with it says to be careful because it could cause seizures especially when mixed with alcohol...but don't most medicines say do not mix with alcohol? I pay no attention to that particular part because it could be a number of things, it could be low electrolytes, it could be my kidneys it could be the fact that I am sleeping a minimum of three hours each night, consuming copious amounts of caffeine working my ass off, eating little and drinking as much as my body can handle. Sometimes I am a little scared, the slow and erratic beating of my heart but it's okay I tell myself. This is a good place to die if that were to happen. Wait, you won't die, you are fat. Just wait it out, my dear, just wait it out. Just 10 more pounds and then you might have a reason to be concerned. Just a little more liquor, a little more pot and a few more pills and a few more pounds lost and you will be okay.

The razor calls my name some nights and some days. So does the cocaine. I cannot afford the cocaine right now which is what's stopping me. Lord knows all I have to do is turn the porch light off and the crack dealers will show up soon enough because the steps are dark enough to sell and not be seen. The cuts will be easy to hide, no one around who knows and I could care fucking less what my mother thinks because according to her she has done her part and I'm an adult and she's no longer obligated to help me in any way shape or form. Besides, she still can't quite understand how such a vile being came from her body.

inside the nuthouse

2010-04-01T22:53:00.000-04:00

I've been carrying around a bottle of pills for a few weeks now. My intention is not to die but the idea of dying doesn't scare me, in fact it's quite appealing at times. The pills are like the scars and the bones, they are my words. They are my way of dealing and, at times, my way of saying "HEY! Look, I'm not okay, things are not okay." I take my bag double check to make sure I have my cigarettes, lighter and wallet. My feet crunch in the snow as I walk. My hands, already numb from the cold, struggle to light a cigarette. I pace back and forth as I wait for the bus. I stare at the houses, some are obviously awake while others are fast asleep. I try to take in the surroundings and begin to personify things. Life is overwhelming, overrated and does not, contrary to popular belief, beckon. The recent snow storm has caused this city to come to a standstill. I have no idea when the bus will arrive and I am meeting someone at a bar for a few drinks. I walk down the street to a different stop to kill time. I stare at my shadow that has been cast by a street lamp, wondering if it has a mind of its own, wondering if it is thinking the same things I am and just wants the brain the stop. The bus finally arrived and the passengers are tired citizens anxiously waiting for the comfort of their own home. I've recently taken to riding the bus at odd hours. Most night I can't sleep and am so restless and anxious and have to be anywhere but where I am. I need something to remind myself that I am real, I am here. I have found myself wandering streets that aren't safe for a female especially not at four in the morning. I walk along the interstate feeling the cars rush by knowing that all it would take is a couple of steps before I become roadkill. Other nights, like tonight, I have a specific plan whether it's a bottle of liquor, bottle of pills, razor blade, food or a combination. The bus driver is incredibly kind, it's almost as if he knows. I miss my stop and decide to ride it around again. I'm the only passenger on the bus so we have a conversation. He stops at a gas station and buys me a diet coke, his kidness almost hurts. I pull the cord signaling my stop. At this point my friend has left so I sit at the bar by myself order a few drinks and swallow a few pills. I pay the bill walk out the door and to the hospital. I step through the revolving door which is quite ironic seeing as I am what some consider a "revolving door" patient. Resistant to treatment. Unwilling. Undeserving. Flawed. I head for the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. I keep my head down and my tail tucked between my legs like a dog who has chewed a $500 pair of shoes to pieces. I get a salad, some fruit, two pieces of bread, a last supper if you will. I suppose my actions are both stupid and brave at the same time. I could have, of course, gone to a place I wouldn't be found until it was too late and the thought it incredibly tempting. I am not desperate enough yet that I could that to those I love. Instead I find myself sitting in a hospital cafeteria downing the last of the pills. My vision quickly begins to blur and I am finally calm. I do not remember leaving but I was found unconscious in the bathroom.

I open my eyes and am surrounded by bright lights, faces and questions. I am embarassed by my inability to speak coherently. I cannot answer their questions ass they poke, prode, stick and push. Needs in my arm, electrodes on my ches. All of this simply because I could not say, "I need help." I have exhausted all of my options, burned all available and open bridges. Instead of the boy who cried wolf there is the girl who cried crazy.
---------------------------------------------------

I was hospitalized in February for a little over three weeks and this is what I wrote about the experience. I am no longer living with my friends mom, it just got to be too much. I was taking care of every member of the house and the 15 year old kept getting caught doing things like smoking cigarettes and pot and the mom immediately wanted to blame it on me(even though I was not buying cigarettes for her, didn't try to stop her because I know that's futile because my mom told me to stop and I didn't) Lived in my car for a bit, found a place with a guy I work with, the management changed for the worse and now my hours have been cut drastically to the point I have no money for anything and have to wing it on a daily basis(which means searching my car for any silver coin to buy cigarettes and taking wads, not rolls, of toilet paper from work)

I overdosed and was in ICU for about two days or so medical for a week and psyche for two, a total of a little over three weeks at Duke. They gave me an ultimatum either eat and get in enough fluids or you will be forced so I ate and they gave me a ridiculous and dangerous meal plan. My weight gain was too fast and dangerous. My weight went from 117(I had been bingeing and falling asleep) to 138. In the last three weeks or so I've lost 17 pounds and am now at 124, partly because my eating disorder is the only way I know how to handle this stress and partly because I am so poor and have been living in my car and every cent I make goes towards my car insurance, gas, necessary prescriptions ~~alcohol~~ and the room I'm staying in. I haven't made more than $115 a week and my rent is $125 a week and I was able to work out an agreement where I painted the room in preperation for future tenants but since my bitch of a manager has decided to run the store into the ground and cut everyones hours and bring new people in(the store is going to crash because all the reliable people, the ones that can handle a store like this are transferring or quitting).

Ramblings of a Neurotic Brain

2010-03-29T17:43:00.000-04:00

Perhaps this is a good example of why one should not type when they are fucked to the gills. Perhaps this is real. I don't know. What was up has now gone down. What was right is now left. The days blurr into one another, the ones remembered are tedious and hellish. I work, I don't sleep I feel like every moment is a fight to get to the next. I try to sleep, I do but my mind won't stop, it just won't stop. I am taking too much of a psych medicine one day, none the next, realize I can't feel my face and don't know if it's the withdrawal or the malnutrition. On my days off I drink and abuse other substances and have a managed to knock ashtrays over, tables over before finally passing out. Then last week when I woke up afte passing out at 6am, I drank again only to have a hangover at 3pm on Tuesday. Wednesday I binged and purged twice after consuming no more than 400 calories a day. Thursday through Saturday are the hellish ones they are the ones I can't smoke and drink because I have to function for work and I don't have time to plan when and how I can b/p. I bust my ass, don't sleep, bust my ass don't sleep, bust my ass CRASH, bust my ass. GET FUCKED UP! go insane, cleaning incessantly, rearranging things over and over again. what am I going to do? i'm going crazy? where am i going to live? what's the best, safest place to park to I can sleep at night? i'm going crazy!!!???!? GET FUCKED UP

Operation no b/p

2010-01-13T14:38:00.000-05:00

OPERATION NO B/P

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

So I am trying to decrease the amount I b/p for many reasons. First and foremost I am deceiving, lying and hurting the ones I love. I'm not saying that I didn't do that when I was anorexia restricing but not that I'm b/p type there's the constant issue surrounding food. Where did this food go? How much money have I spent on food that could have been spent on ANYTHING else. I'm ruinging my teeth and already being underweight is just like adding lighter fluid to a flame.

I managed to go Tuesday without a b/p. I b/pd today but am aiming for no tomorrow. Of course that might entail an overuse of my meds and some alcohol consumption but whatever.

Darius

2010-01-09T03:54:00.000-05:00

RIP Darius Xavier Poteat

I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies
That you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand
I would understand
The angry boy, a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you don't belong
You're the first to fight
You're way too loud
You're the flash of light
On a burial shroud
I know something's wrong
Well everyone I know has got a reason
To say
Put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies
That you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand
I would understand
Well, he's on the table
And he's gone to code
And I do not think anyone knows
What they are doing here
And your friends have left
You've been dismissed
I never thought it would come to this
And I
I want you to know
Everyone's got to face down the demons
Maybe today
We can put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies
That you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
Can you put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
I would understand...

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

I logged onto FB and it asked me if I wanted to reconnect with Darius. Of course I would love to reconnect with Darius, I would love to have the chance to tell him how angry I am with him, that everything will be okay eventually even if I don't believe it myself. The whole situation is just shitty and I find myself getting so frustrated sometimes. When I am sitting with Haley rubbing her back, telling her things will be okay and that I love her knowing full well there's nothing I can do to make things honestly better for her. I cannot change the situation and I cannot change the facts. She was engaged to him and they were supposed to get married August 1st. She called the wedding off the last week in June and he hung himself a week later. She is not, by any means, at fault. If he was that unstable then it could have been something else that pushed him over the edge, but the fact of the matter is he did it after she called off the wedding. Consider Kyles parents blamed us for his death and the very nature of suicide it's only natural for her to blame herself. I blame myself. I am angry with myself for not noticing the signs. I am angry at myself for making Haley my priority and not taking the time to really talk with him. I should have known that when he tossed his bike in some ditch that it was a sign.

If he loved her enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her why would he want to do that her? Why would he take his own life knowing full well what we've been through with the people we've lost to suicide. I get it, I do. I get not wanting to live. I fight urges a lot and I can't even count how many times I've thought things would be better if I weren't alive. Sometimes I wish I hadn't experienced these untimely deaths, not because I want them back but because then I might actually be able to kill myself. I could never do that though. Losing someone you love to suicide is not something I would wish upon anyone and it is an experience unlike any other. There is no "Rest In Peace" because there are entirely too many questions left unanswered. As shitty as things may be and no matter how down on my luck I get I have people in my life I love too much to ever hurt that much.

2010-01-08T23:36:00.001-05:00

^^^My nephew Avery

“When we're incomplete, we're always searching for somebody to complete us. When, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that we're still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody more promising. This can go on and on--series polygamy--until we admit that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us, are responsible for our own fulfillment. Nobody else can provide it for us, and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program for eventual failure every relationship we enter.”
-Tom Robbins

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Today was an okay day. It started out rough, ED behaviors. I played around on the intrawebz for a bit making myself late for work(or late for the bus rather). I missed the 3:10 bus and sat out in the cold for 30 minutes for the 3:40 bus and so was about seven minutes late for work. I wasn't able to cash my check which sucks. There was no insider when I got there, just drivers and Brad(my manager). No delay orders either, it's been so dead lately. Brad spent a good portion of the time on the phone with other GMs in our district and the Raleigh district because they are doing away with the Assistant Manager position and they took away their vacation time. I like that Brad is confident with me running the front and feels that he can do what he needs to do and not have to worry about the store. We had entirely too many people for the amount of business and Mario kept fucking things up and trying to blame others and act as if he wasn't at fault, luckily enough Brad knows and knows that we can handle things in the store and would be fine if we just subtract Mario from the equation which he is trying to do anyways.

Still haven't talked to my mom. I sent her an email apologizing and trying to explain better. I can't stop thinking about it and her. I wish I could just for a bit. I think she might have taken Thursday and Friday off. It's either that or she is able to screen my calls because she hasn't answered her work phone at all. I am beating a dead horse and I know this. Everything must be on her terms and she won't settle for anything else. It's just frustrating. I actually have Mon-Thur off next week so I am planning on finishing the painting I'm working on about my mom. I really just want to set it up outside with a warm drink, my ipod, the canvas, paint and cigs.

fear

2010-01-07T17:44:00.000-05:00

That I Would Be Good

that I would be good even if I did nothing
that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down
that I would be good if I got and stayed sick
that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds

that I would be fine even if I went bankrupt
that I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth
that I would be great if I was no longer queen
that I would be grand if I was not all knowing

that I would be loved even when I numb myself
that I would be good even when I am overwhelmed
that I would be loved even when I was fuming
that I would be good even if I was clingy

that I would be good even if I lost sanity
that I would be good
whether with or without you

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I saw Judy(my therapist) today. It was a very productive session, not quite what I had in mind but productive nonetheless. I told her that my mom is trying to fight with the insurance company and the OPM rep at her work and as Judy put it "being a raging bitch on wheels barreling through." I've done a lot of things lately that I am ashamed of, things that have left my mind spinning something terrible at night. There are parts of myself that I do not like and for good reasons and things that I need to change. I used my moms card for something I shouldn't have, something to fuel my disorder and it shames me to the core. I am better than that. This entire time I'm thinking I'm going crazy, my mind needs to stop I am losing it but Judy said it's good thinking.

I wish I didn't have such a mommy complex. I wish I wasn't so enmeshed with my mother and that I could stop dancing and juggling around because I will never get the attention I need(ed). Christmas was hard because my mom was so gung ho on seeing my sister in Canada that she wasn't interested in me. You would think that if a mother has a child who is 30 minutes away from her and didn't have a car she would pick her up so that they could spend Christmas together. That's what she's done in the past. She was not interested in picking me up and when I asked her if she wanted me to find a ride out to her house she told me not to bother. This was the first year I spent Christmas away from her. The only way I know how to get my mothers attention is by being sick. The only time my mother has ever paid attention is when I am sick, she sits by my side she is my knight in shining armor, arguing with doctors all the while telling me I am beautiful and bringing me cards and tea and flowers. When I am well I fall to the sidelines and it's only when I make a mistake or am not what she feels I should be doing that she notices. Not only does she notice the mistakes but she highlights them, bolds them and shines a big bright spotlight on them. I know my mother loves me and that's what makes it so hard. My mom has always had a favorite of the two of us. Whichever one of us she feels is screwing up the least is the "good" one and can do no wrong while the other is stuck in the spotlight and belittled. When my sister had my nephew I became the black sheep and my sister can do no wrong. I told Judy and Haley that I should just get knocked up so that my mom will love me again and Judy said that that's the kind of logic I've always had. Mommy hasn't noticed me so let me write on the wall, she will be angry but at least she will notice. Mommy doesn't know I'm here so I will pretend to get lost or runaway. I never wanted to grow up because I wanted to always need her and I wanted to ensure that she would never leave me. I wonder sometimes if she could wash her hands clean of me if she would.

I told her I knew I needed more intensive treatment but with my job and the promotion it's making the decision harder. My job is something that makes me feel productive and well, to be frank, not stupid. It's one thing in my life I am confident about and I don't want to lose that. So it puts me in a bit of a bind. I told her I don't know if it's my eating disorder trying to fuck things up but that I don't know if inpatient/residential is good for me because it just enforces the "sick" role. She asked me to elaborate on that and it was hard to put it into words. I said something I've never said out loud before. It is a safe, supportive and intensive environment and I flock to that because I can sigh in relief. I don't have to be everything mommy wants me to be, I don't have to pretend anymore and I am SUPPOSED to need things and ask for help. At the same time, everytime things in my life have been so chaotic my first response was to claim the crazy card and it worked. It got me the break I wanted. She said that while I am not crazy I obviously needed those breaks because most people don't immediately swallow a bunch of hoarded pills and slit their wrists open. Most people don't decide that they are going to puke their guts out and purposely dehydrate themselves risking their lives.

I told her that I have no fucking clue how to fill the space my mother leaves and I don't know how to make things okay.

It scares me because I don't know how ingrained these thought and behaviors are. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wishing I were dead every other week. I don't want to keep pulling the crazy card. I don't want to be so terrified of turning 22 because I can't stop it, I am going to turn 22 just like I will turn 23 and 24 and 25. It's inevitable and fearing the inevitable is quite maddening.

she flew over the cuckoos nest

2009-11-10T15:11:00.001-05:00

It's all too familiar. Not too much has changed, the sounds are the same and there is complete and utter chaos but it's to be expected, it is an emergency room after all. I've been in this position so many times I've lost count. The blue scrubs at least two sizes too small, the inevitable schizophrenic who is pacing and muttering nothing, the violent patient who has been sedated with eyes that seem to hum. I am curled up in my chair shifting often in an attempt to find a position that is comfortable, a position in which I can sleep. I find it ironic that there is an Eating Disorders Unit upstairs yet they are not quite equipped to deal with us. No matter how I position myself my bones poke the chair and I know I will wake up with bruises that I don't remember getting. I am shivering and it is freezing. It's a different kind of cold, I am chilled to the bone and nothing I do can change that. I hear someone call "Ms.Chandler," and, instinctively, I raise my head only it is not me they want, it is my mother. For the first time in my life I am not the crazy one, I am not the one in need of a head examination. No one is going to pick and prod my brain, not tonight. Instead of a pair of scrubs two sizes too big there is a pair of scrubs two sizes too small and they are not being held up by a bony hand. I take this as my cue to smoke a cigarette and relish in the fact that I can actually LEAVE the emergency room to smoke a cigarette and I do not need anyone to supervise me while I use the bathroom. Part of me is thrilled at the thought of my mother locked on a unit counting down the hours until visitors are allowed or the seconds until she is allowed out of her room after a unsuccessful attempt at a nights sleep. A patient is wheeled down the hallway restrained to the chair, she is yelling and spitting and horror floods my mothers face. "Don't worry," I say "if you are hospitalized you won't be with her she will be put on the psychotic ward or in a state hospital." My mother sighs in relief.

mommy knows best

2009-11-07T01:21:00.000-05:00

Sometimes is never quite enough
If you're flawless, then you'll win my love
Don't forget to win first place
Don't forget to keep that smile on your face
Be a good boy
Try a little harder
You've got to measure up
And make me prouder
How long before you screw it up
How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up
With everything I do for you
The least you can do is keep quiet
Be a good girl
You've gotta try a little harder
That simply wasn't good enough
To make us proud
I'll live for you
I'll make you what I never was
If you're the best, then maybe so am I
Compared to him compared to her
I'm doing this for your own damn good
You'll make up for what I blew
What's the problem ...... why are you crying
Be a good boy
Push a little farther now
That wasn't fast enough
To make us happy
We'll love you just the way you are if you're perfect

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I have an unnatural attachment to my mother. I told my therapist Wednesday that it's almost as if we are electrons and we run towards one another convinced it's the solution but as soon as we get close we shoot away from one another. All that aside, I love my mother and have needed her for my entire life. There are moments where her maternal instinct kicks in and she is able to help me in the ways I need but those are few and far between.

She called me last night telling me she was "pulling a Karina and having a mental breakdown." So I took her to UNC. She was given an ativan at 10pm, we left at 6am. I was beyond exhausted on top of having the flu. I hadn't slept more than six hours in the last 48. I told her my original plan for Friday was to go to urgent care so I can get through work and not break down physically and she offered to take me and I said there weren't any open and what I really needed was to sleep. I was delirious and she agreed to drive.

She totaled her car and hadn't paid her car insurance bill yet. She got mad at me for not answering her seven phone calls while I was sleeping because I had to work. She frantically called my job four times and was a "neurotic mess." She wanted me to use everything I've saved to bail her out and I tried, I really did try but by the time I got to her insurance company I found out they don't accept cash payments. She is going to blame me, as always. While logically I know none of this is my fault it doesn't make one damn bit of difference because my mother has instilled the fear of god in me. She will start saying that she's never going to help me out again and with everything she does for me the least I could do was this. She is going to find someway to blame this on me I guarantee it.

I tried, I swear. Then I start wondering if I should have just ignored her plead for help but then if she ended up dying it would crush me more than anything. I should have know she couldn't drive but neither could I, I was delusional from lack of sleep not to mention all the other complications of my ED(inability to function cognitively)

If my mom breaks, I will break and I cannot break right now. I'm trying to be responsible and attend work and save up for a place and treatment.

My therapist asked me if I thought I should be in the hospital and I said I can't because I have to work and that I've been holding on by the skin of my teeth.

I don't know what's going to happen now.

and the end is near...

2009-11-02T17:42:00.000-05:00

I wrote this last night in my journal. I am typing it exactly as it is written on paper.

4:20am Monday November 2, 2009

Dear Ryan,

"I have to drive, I have my reasons dear, it's cold outside, I hate the seasons here, I suffer mornings most of all I feel so powerless and small, by ten o'clock I'm back in bed, fighting the jury in my head...we haven't slept in years, we suffer mornings most of all, we saw you laying in the road, we tried to dig a decent grave, but it's no way to behave, it is a delicate position, spin the bottle, kick the victim, catch a tiger, switch directions if he follows..." Amanda Palmer

I'm very conflicted at the moment. I'll be honest I really don't want to fucking live. My life is filled with uncertainty right now. The ONLY known/constant thing is my eating disorder. At least every other day, if not every day, I fight urges to take a shit ton of pills with some strong liquor and cut. The idea is so god damn appealing it's insane(quite literally in fact). TO feel nothing and no longer have to deal with the spinning/chaotic thoughts in my head. The very motion of the blad ripping open my skin in one quick angry sweep of emotions. I want to watch my impurities and shamefull thoughts and actions bleed out of me if only for a short period of time. Then and ONLY then am I allowed to wrap my arm and hold it like a mother holds her weeping infant, wanting only to calm and soothe and protect and MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER! I want to fall asleep with some sort of music(Counting Crows, Bob Dylan, Amanda Palmer, Margot and the Nuclear So and So's) I would rock myself and whisper to my arm, "It will be okay." But I can't truly take care of it you see, it must still hurt and reopening it/removing the stitches prematurely and with my own blood covered fingers.

I am sick, so so very sick.

like a mother should love her child

2009-11-02T16:04:00.002-05:00

I just saw my mom drive by. She dropped some mail off and just left. I ran down the street barefoot choking down tears. I just wanted to see my mommmy. I know that sounds trivial and childish but I have a sick attachment to her. My therapist says she's toxic for me. I will always be looking for the mom I didn't get, the kind who held me and wiped my tears away. Instead I got a mom who loved her children but resented them and made sure they knew that. I dropped to the ground and burst into tears. I miss my mom. Why didn't she stop by, we could have sat down and had coffee. If she had an appointment I could have waited, I just wanted to see her. I don't know whether it was her or just this intense amount of emtions that keep building and building and just won't go away. I worry about my ability to stay sane and my ability to keep my job without either ending up in the psyche ward for ED and suicidal ideations or IP at UNC on the EDU. I can see myself falling and falling fast, it's not a pretty sight.

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I called Judy today and left a message, she just called back. We have an appointment for 9:30am Wednesday morning and I owe her money so that's another $60. It's frustrating because I'm not really well enough to work right now but I can't NOT work. I have too many bills and things to pay. I have rent, copays for psychiatrist, copays for therapy, copays for medicine, cigarettes, food(to actually eat),

Maybe this year will be better than the last

2009-11-02T15:59:00.000-05:00

I bought an actual spiral notebook yesterday so I could write. My computer has crashed. This is what I wrote

I'm not sure exactly where to begin and. In fact there's neither a beginning nor an end let alone a fucking story. My life at the moment can be summed by my a handful of words. Chaos. Limbo. Uncertainty. Instability. Longing and insanity.

I don't know where I should start with the physical/mental state I'm in or how I got this way, the events leading up to my inevitable crash. Oh the never ending question of the chicken or the egg.

The Summary of 2009:

This is/has been by far the WORST bout of depression I've experienced. It's debilitating, consistent and just won't seem to go away. Part of it is chemical, part of it is my mom/life events nd well, there's no easy way to say this,

Darius Xavier Poteat hung himself July 1, 2009 exactly a month from the date he and Haley were to be wed.

My ED got really bad, lost 20+ pounds, scared the SHIT out of my mom. Of course she never said this but I could see it in her eyes, tone of voice and the very way she treated me-acting as if I could break at any moment. She made me sleep in her bed with her and slept with her arms around me so she could check my heart rate. Ironically(or not) enough that was my original intention. I thought maybe if she was worried she wouldn't yell so much or throw things. Then Darius died and it all went downhill from there. My weight at one point was 101 bmi of 16.3. It's not my lowest, by any means, but my body for whatever reason will not let me get below 100. I was purging, b/p every day and had basically become quite more efficient which leads to low potassium. Since then I've gained about 6-8 pounds. WIth my kidney functioning being the way it is and water retention out the ass I honestly thought I would die. She disappeared for three days and would not return my phone calls. One of the last things she said was, "I know you can't help it but this is my way of dealing with it but then I think of all the times you told people I abused you, I never hit my kids." Lie. I drank/drugged myself into a stupor and cut badly. Every few hours or so I would wake up in some random place(the front steps), the bathtub drink some more and pass out. My friend came to retrieve me and I've been living with Haley's mom ever since. The house that darius hung himself in is right across the street.

2009-10-28T03:21:00.002-04:00

On Almost Any Sunday Morning

Take a message to your head
Just stay beside her in the bed
You were so stupid
To believe in things you couldn't see
Then make them all you want
If you haven't got the reasons
Just make up any reasons
Then pick them 'til they're torn
Take it all away
You took your coat today
But they all go back in the morning
Make a time to find your way
I got a little further today
Wash your eyes clear of anything
Make them empty circles
Dress yourself in black or gray
I'm hungry like a wild waif or only child
This lithium is heroin to me
It makes it all withdraw
All the anger and loss
But it all keeps coming back in the morning
You keep yourself too clean
You dig yourself a dream
That we won't be coming home alone
Not this time
Not this time
Not this time
Not this time

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

Friday I was 110 and I worked from 5-3:30 am, had to wake up at 8am to take the woman I'm staying with to work, then pick up her daughter at her friends house, take her to theater practice, pick up the woman I'm staying with at 1pm and had to be at work at 6pm-3:30 am. I ate some pretzels but gave them away(one serving and gave them away) I went to 112, then had pretzles last night while incredibly fucking stoned/drunk/drugged up and woke up weighing 118.

My eating disorder is convinced I've gained a ridiculous amount weight. Then a very small part of me wonders if how I see myself really is distorted but then the eating disorder says that's bullshit and fuck this god damn disorder.

I am still having a hard time dealing with the fact that, despite it being incredibly toxic at my moms, I was 103. I know me not being there is part of the reason I'm doing better but FUCKING GODDAMN A MAN!!! 118 makes me want to crawl into a fucking hole and die and it two fucking days it went up eight pounds.

I'm really freaking out because part of knows it's my kidneys but the ED part says "no you're just too fat all you have to do is take laxatives and diuretics."

and so it goes...

2009-10-27T19:10:00.000-04:00

My mood is not good right now at all. It's to the point where I'm contemplating taking a bunch of pills. I feel incredibly fat and wish more than anything that the way I see myself right now is distorted.

Ob la di, Ob la da

2009-10-25T04:43:00.002-04:00

Margery's dreaming of the middle of the day

Tiyuri to win
Perfect Dozen to place
Money is the matter that's been on her mind
Time ticks by her one race at a time
She's trying to be a good girl
And give 'em what they want
But Margery's dreaming of horses
Looking at a green sky
Sun like a red eye
Bright blue horses are the fortune she lives by
She's tired and lonely
Scared and depressed
Her visions of one day go racing the next
She's trying to be a good girl
And give 'em what they want
But Margery's dreaming of horses
Margery doesn't say anything all the way home
So afraid she'll awake to find she's all alone
Margery's wingspans all feathers and coke cans, and
TV dinners and letters she won't send, and
Every race night is shot through with sunlight
Trying to hit the big one one last time tonight for...
Drunken fathers and stupid mothers and
Boys who can't tell one girl from another
So she takes her pills
Careful and round
One of these days she's gonna throw the whole Bottle down
But she's trying to be a good girl
And give 'em what they want
But Margery's dreaming of...
Trying to be a good girl
And give 'em what they want
But Margery's dreaming of horses

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My mom didn't show up until around 4pm yesterday. She was already in a bad mood and it was "fuck this" and "god dammit" that. I was incredibly uncomfortable. She asked me for the $20 I owe her for a prescription she picked up for me and I gave it to her. She's having a hard time paying her bills because she's completely cut off from workers comp and she had to hire a lawyer and as of right now she has no income so I understand she's stressed. There was no "I'm happy to see you, I love you." It was all about how I could give HER money despite, you know, having my OWN bills to pay including therapy, psychiatrist appointments, copays, cigarettes, food(keep down food) bus fair to GET to work and the money I have to pay Tami to live here. If I could describe my life in one word right now it would be chaos. Complete and utter chaos. Nothing is as it seems and everything has gone awry. I picked up my check we went to Wachovia so I could cash it since she has an account there but she did not have her ID. I distinctly remember a year or so ago my mom took me somewhere(I think it was to apply for food stamps and I didn't have my license) and she spent 20 minutes ramming into me telling me that I would never make it in the REAL world because responsible adults always carry their IDs and how could I be so stupid. It was just an incredibly negative experience all around because the only reason she came to see me was because she wanted money from me...how convenient.

I don't know how long this arrangement with Tami will last and I have to think fast and figure out where the hell I'm going to live. I will probably end up couching it for awhile but now that I have steady hours at work I don't want to seem irresponsible. I don't blame Tami for being uncomfortable with me here. I know that she does care about me because I'm like a daughter to her but seeing me "skin and bones" is hard. It's hard on anyone and I understand that. I realize that I cause(d) my mom a great deal of worry along with everyone else in my life and I can't even imagine what it would be like to see someone everyday who is clearly in need of help and weight gain-had to add some humor. It's just when she tells her 15 year old daughter that it might be good for her to see someone who has a real eating disorder because I'm "so skinny and have so many health problems" and some of the comments she makes on my body make me a bit uneasy, to say the least.

Now on to work. I cannot work these hours. I told my manager I was looking at 20 hours but I clocked out at 39.8 which is 20 minutes less than overtime(time and a half). I'm pulling 10-11 hour days, closing two nights a week and opening two nights a week. I know how to do my job, it's not rocketscience but I am making far more mistakes than I ever have and it's because my brain just isn't functioning right. I don't function cognitively when my weight is low. So I'm not sure how I'm going to handle this. I'm also supposed to start looking into doctors in this area that aren't affiliated with Duke or UNC that might know something about EDs. There's a doctor who sees patients at the Carolina House so I might try that. It's just a matter of me actually making the phone call. ED resistance much?

weight is down some, which is good. I did get the groceries I needed and I'm very excited about the butternut squash. I don't know what I want to make first though, veggie stir-fry with broccoli, carrots and red peppers with balsamic/mustard/splenda/etc blend or curried butternut squash or cinnamon/splenda butternut squash. Food excites me so. I'm so excited about what to cook. I have organic eggs too which make wonderful eggwhite omellettes and salsa. I fucking <3 salsa. I dip carrots in salsa.

I had pretzles today and a b/p on ridiculous shit but fell in love with Kroger brand peanut butter cookie dough ice cream. I think the salt on the pretzles is fucking with my body. The inside of my knees doesnt have that hollow like it normally does.

I had four of my ativans(yea, I'm kind of an addict and was clean for a year and a half but started smoking pot at the LB NYC meet 07 with CJ <3. RIght now to be quite honest I just want to get fucked into oblivion because that's my way of dealing with things. I told my therapist a month or so ago that it's almost as if I have my hands over my ears, shaking my head and saying "not listening, not listening."

Oh and I had some nasty ass random liquor. So I should be good except I want more, like pot or something. Hopefully I can get out of Durham for two days because I have the next two days off and spend some time with Gretchen but she's really struggling with bulimia and when I'm with someone who has an ED I will restrict but I don't purge. The only problem is that we smoke a shit ton of pot when we are together because I get her some good hookups. Pot makes me hungry and she always has salty things at her place.

another one bites the dust

2009-10-23T00:51:00.001-04:00

Not really sure WHY I took this picture, take as you will.
Mmm...spiced vanilla chai with cinnamon, diet hot chocolate, splash of soy and one tbsp pumpkin spice cream <3

Okay so I took my ativan and seroquel XR and am feeling mighty nice right now. I know there is some sort of alcohol in this room and it's kind of calling my name. I'm kind of stoked that I don't have to be in for work until 5:30 but I close so I suppose that makes up for it.
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Woke up this morning around 8am and b/p of course. That's the only time in which I can really combined with my schedule and everyone else's schedule. I hate that it's become like this but in hindsight it's much better than when I was at my moms and had my own bathroom that wasn't in between two other rooms. It wasn't a large one per say I don't even particularly remember what it consisted of. I have been very maticulate about my binges because I am in someone elses house and refuse to do it here or use up all their food. I did, however, use some grits and added cinnamon, honey, syrup and butter. I don't like grits, I am not from the south. I like polenta but not grits. People frown when they find out I put syrup and cinnamon in my grits. I'm thinking of trying SF vanilla syrup with diet hot chocolate, a bit of FF cream cheese and soy with cinnamon.

Anyways enough food talk because you know that's how we roll. [rolleyes] I showered, got dressed, walked to the bus stop and made it to work 15 minutes early. It was crazy busy today. We had about 15 delayed orders with no less than 10-15 pies. So it was incredibly tedious and monotonous. Pound the dough, dock the dough, slap the dough, sauce the dough, top the dough, cheese the dough, put it in the oven, take it out, cut it, box it...repeat Repeat RE-fucking-PEAT.

We were also supposed to have someone from corporate stop by because he was at a friends store and I'm a bit worried because he was there for four hours which is much longer than need be. I hope he didn't get demoted or fired :( I <3>

Pumpkin Spice International delight creamer is to die for.

I have a phone appointment with someone from Social Security tomorrow at 11:30am then I owe my mom money and she is coming by to pick it up.

I don't know how much will be on my paycheck but I also need to buy groceries/supplies and reimburse Tami(woman I'm living with) for eating her broccoli, carrots and berries, lol. She's a bit weird about that but to each is own I suppose. I know I would be pissed.

I plan on getting:

red peppers
carrots
broccoli
berries
NF/SF yogurt
greek yogurt
squash
butternut squash
tea
light soymilk

Then we'll see from there how much money I have left because I still owe my psyche and have medical/hospital bills to pay off.

EDIT: I ended up drinking some of that vile god awful concotion of alcohol or something, idk it was in a bottle, taking two ativans and my seroquel XR and then a lyrica. Yea, I wish I could do that now but I have to work in 3 hours and 45 minutes.

And so the journey begins...

2009-10-21T22:16:00.000-04:00

Otis was adorable and got stuck inbetween the doors

He likes to rub his head on everything

Arizona pomegranate acai tea with blueberry celestial seasonings and sweet and low

The monkey I got for my birthday because it's the same weekend as Presidents Day, thank you Build a Bear. True Blueberry tea, Arizona pomegranate acai green tea, jodi picoult and marlboro smooths...these all make me happy :D

Yes I realize I am posting like three times today but I created this blog as an outlet of sorts. I've had many a blogs over the last five/six years including blogspot but that one was when I was a melodramatic anorexic teen living in a group home/foster home. That's not who I am anymore.

My moods change faster than one can blink an eye. I am okay now. Not great, but okay and that is better than nothing.

I spoke with my mom last night and she told me if I didn't get in touch with someone from Social Security by today then I would be cut off completely(I get SSI when I am not working and it provides me with medicaid). I have tried calling this particular woman for two months now, leaving messages, calling the 800 number and no response or help whatsoever. So after calling five times she finally returned my phone call and we will talk Friday at 11:30am. The problem is that they need the exact dates I was in residential to basically prove that I am still in need of these services. I can't get the exact dates without my ID number and only my therapist can provide me with that. Problem is, both therapists I had while there are no longer working at the Frew.

I was looking into treatment about a month or so ago but my mom told me to hold off because she's in a legal battle with her job(she's trying to get medical retirement for rheumatoid arthritis) and she was afraid they were going to cut off her benefits which is how I would get residential treatment.

My mom has said she thinks I will die. That's not too comforting. The idea of dying from an eating disorder is both appealing and frightening. It would be just my luck that I would die as a result of the bulimic side and it would be a big fuckng mess.

Anyways, I will talk about my eating disorder in this blog as it is a major part of my life. I will talk about my life, my mother, my sister, my dogs, my depression, my past coping mechanisms(drugs/cutting)

The biggest thing I need to focus on is the depression and my mood swings. I took two ativan tonight after anxiously and obsessively scrubbing the kitchen floor and counters, pacing up and down the street and eating compulsively(or so I think at least).

I remember a conversation with my therapist about a year ago and one of the things I thought might be helpful is to focus on the good things.

I've been drinking a shit ton of tea lately which is something I've always loved but over the last couple of years became terrified of drinking anything without caffeine. So, yes the tea has caffeine but less than coffee and I'm too poor to buy diet coke

I have to work tomorrow but my plan is to get in a lot of liquid calories because YES I do want to lose weight. 5-10 pounds, preferrably the latter, putting me at a bmi of 16.4-17

fall into place

2009-10-21T21:02:00.000-04:00

weight: 110 bmi: of 17.7 %IBW: 79

Weight: 110 bmi: 17.7 %IBW: 79

I don't know what I'm doing. I am in limbo right now and it's one of the most unsettling things to me. I love fall because it's beautiful and it's something I grew up without. The downside to fall is the memories. I am a visual person. I remember things, names, memories and associate them with things I can see, feel and smell.

My mood is bad right now, I cannot even articulate it and it's driving me nuts.

What I can say is that I want to cut badly, I want to do something ANYTHING RIGHT NOW! just so I don't have to think or feel.

When Darius died I didn't really face it. On some level I knew, like I always have but my solution to the problem was to lose weight. It was almost as if the absence of flesh and appearance of bone would somehow make bring him back to life.

It's a little difficult doing that when the house in which his body hung limp and lifeless is across the street. There are moments that I obsessively wash my hands because I can still feel the extension cord by which he hung himself in my hands. I stare at the house and it's almost as if it is laughing back at me, or Haley rather.

There is someone living in that house and that freaks me out. The first time I saw the person all I saw was a head covered in dreads and my heart just about stopped.

2009-10-21T16:32:00.000-04:00

I will not make the same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery
I will not break the way you did,
You fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake
A smile, a laugh everyday of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I watched you die
I heard you cry every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me
You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
And now I cry in the middle of the night
For the same damn thing
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid
Because of you
Because of you