So here is something that I can’t stand, being sick, feeling ill, and most of all doctors, nurses, and hospitals.  Yes, I know all about run on sentences.  Here is the thing. I think that a lot if not most people I know think I enjoy it.  Newsflash folks it sucks. I hate that when I wake up in the morning, that my head is reeling, I feel nauseous and I am still exhausted. If I wake up before 3:00 pm that is.  I am confused about this nightmare. I don’t know how to fix it.  For some reason I can’t make it go away.

I amsorry

It finally happened

I finally told Granola that I think I am relapsing.  Yes, I have been skirting the issue for several weeks, (ok months) I came clean telling her that I have been fighting this thing.  Here is the thing, I really, really, REALLY, want to starve myself into oblivion. I want to go further than I ever have. I want to stop eating. I want to stop feeling. I do not want to eat ever again. I am trying so hard to get to a point where I can trust people with my vulnerabilities.  I am trying to find out who will walk this road with me. So, far I can’t find anyone. I don’t know how to ask anyone for things. My guilt is running rampant. I hate myself for feeling cliche.

I Am Sorry

I am sorry, sorry,sorry.  I hate that I can’t control my emotions. I don’t know how to be the person anyone wants to have around. I know how to be needed. I know how to make them all disappear. I don’t know how to be strong. I don’t know how to be honest. I don’t know how to ask. I am sorry. I am so confused. I am so lonely. I want to be forgiven. I want to be good. I want to disapper. I want to be real. I am sorry.  I don’t mean to make it worse. I don’t mean to ineffective.  I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.  I am a coward. I am wrong. I am sorry

FML

damn therapist doesn't know me at all she thinks my ultimate desire is a husband I am chocking on the force feeding of normalcy. I think Hot mess Hair is out of her fecking mind. I need to talk about fears and what happens when my fear makes me want to slit my own throat. She needs so serious education on eating disorder and the real world I do not know how much more god is the answer bullshit I am holy shit mad but I purged twice today breakfast an lunch and to all my med. I am going to have to educate her big time and frankly it is not my job. done rant and scene. she tells me all the time your beautiful blah blah oh how can I stand her

Here we go again

 So here we go, again In a small closet there is a little girl. She is hiding there behind he sister's dresses and the Sunday shoes. The beat up sneakers and smelly socks. All the way in the back, can you see her ? Blond hair that catches the little bit of light, dirty elbows from playing in the dirt. There just barely you can see a band aid on her knee. Maybe you wonder why she is hiding here in the dark. Maybe you think she is playing. I mean after all she is so little. Why else? there are others of you that know. You know what it is like to put your back to the wall and stare out into this world from the dark. You have probably guessed that she is afraid. You don't know why she is scared but I do. Perhaps you don't care either. Well I tried that too.  So If you don't want to know then go away. Because I am going to let her tell the world why. Why on this day is she hiding in the closet.
" They took my clothes she whispers. they tied the leash to my neck, they made me eat the dog food again." She doesn't even cry anymore. ( i am afraid of dog food)

Avoiding emo

I admit it. I am avoiding all emotions. I am using all my obsessive thoughts and ineffective behaviors to do it to. I am finding myself bent over toilets, bags. garbage cans and even the bushes. Shoving two then three finaly my whole fucking hand down my throat, to get that one apple out of my stomach. I hate myself. E-dog wants to know what the primary emotion is well it is disgust. Pure and simple I am so disgusted by myself. I don't know how to cope with that. So right now I am avoiding it the best way I know how. Obsessing about destroying the monster inside me.

Fast????

How did I get here so fast???? I have been asking myself that question too much lately. I found myself bent over plastic bags puking my guts up today. Why, plastic bags? your asking. Because I am so afraid that all this regurgitating will clog my pipes, duh?  I am becoming obsessed with a capital O lately. No there is no food in my refrigerator. Sorry Edog and J.P. I keep promising myself that I will go. I can't bring myself to do it. Besides, what would I buy. This all happened so fast. The last thing I remember is restricting yeast and anything that causes yeast to grow. Now nothing but crumbs stay down. I told myself that I would do what the hotze clinic said. I promised that I could eat clean and healthy. two months is all it took. It all came crashing back. The fear crippling me. ED's voice whispering in my ear, driving me too my knees. I beg and plead when I wake up that my bowels empty. That I can make it on just my supplements and water filled with fiber. Purging until snot and tears run down my face, when a glass of almond milk finds its way down my throat. Black spots dance around my eyes taunting me to stand up to fast. I take in a bowl of soup only to find it in the toilet ten minutes later. My emotions are getting numb and I have taken my mask out and dusted it off.  The words fine, good, okay and whatever spill from my lips without a thought. The feeling of self disgust fills me up. Self hatred and doubt fill every nook and cranny of my mind and soul. Not that I ever thought they went away but I was handling them. Is it possible that Ana never left. I am taken aback. this happened too damn fast.

Back in Action

So here I am, back. I have lost it. The delicate control that I had for fence sitting. ED has returned shining like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Begging me, goading me, with her silky voice that she will cure all of my ills. I listened. I jumped into the black hole with both feet. Dora went back, m&m is barely holding on. I am not as fine as I tell everyone. This time I confessed my sins. I told E-Dog about my lack of fighting urges to flush my sanity down the shit hole.(figuratively and literally) So there I said it I have relapsed.  It came back so easy. I tried to follow what the doctor in Texas said. Follow a yeast free diet for 30 days. I did, and now there is no food in my fridgadair.  And my diet consists dehydrated soups, and all that is yeast free. Except when I must have a value meal or some other unsafe food then I puke it back up. I thought I could fight this but it has proved a moot point.
Oh spiral paths why do you tempt me so. The problem with this little sortie is that everything else is good. More     hours at work FINALLY. Therapy progress is slow but I move steadily along.(well I have been) but going to the gym at three a.m. I mean come on!!  My memories haunt me. The voices that told me I was black and disgusting, no good, that I deserved all they could dish out and more. Those voices fill my head.  I can hear her screaming loud now. but then I hear ED whisper ever so softly. "I'm here, I'm back, back in action."

Here it is Sunday, this week did not go as I had planned it. I was placed on Safety by Edog and had to be watched by Dora, M&M, and Mann. They were scared as they had every right to be. The thing is I never said that I was a safety risk. I said I was tired. That is the truth, I am exhausted. I feel as though I am bounding through this world without so much as an impact for good.  I seem to be complaining all the time. I just want to stop. Stop all the crying and the whining and the drama. I want to stop all the " fake it til you make it bull shit." most of all I want to stop this ugly ass body. I don't want to eat anymore. I don't want to drink water. I don't want to go to the gym I don't want to shower and wash my hair. I want to stop. If that means stop living than fine why can't that be my choice?  Why can't I choose to just stop? Why can't that be an effective choice?  I mean I get it that it comes from a place of pain and emotion. Can't those things be wise mind places too. I am not saying that I am going to acquire a gun in the next week. Although I can understand not killing yourself because it hurts other people. I get it they would miss me and be angry. They would feel guilty and hate me forever.  What I don't understand is that they hate me the same if they have to watch me all the time.  Why can't I save them the frustration of going through it over and over again. I am not saying that me killing myself would help them. I know that is something, I tell myself to make me feel better. I only feel that this is a logical choice for me and that by talking about it gets too many people involved. Again my main problem is that I am tired.  Beyond that seems like wishful thinking

I think  my friends hate me.  Rather they are sick of me. Dora won't look at me or speak to me. I feel like making excuses saying that this isn't my fault, it is though. I did it I and I alone have burned this bridge. I have once again somehow got myself put on safety without really saying anything. I suppose actions always speak louder than words. I was just trying to protect my friends from my drama. It did not work.  God how I hate myself.  It is just like the policeman said that was standing in my living room I should respect my support system and their lives.  They do care I know they do. I love them too I just sometimes think it would be better if I gave them some peace and quiet. I am always running out of time. 

Okay so I just have to post this from way back from my birthday, These are my peeps inhaling helium

Recovery ????

Edog kicked me out of her office yesterday. It is a long story. Basically, she asked if I was restricting I told the truth and said yes I was, She handed me a chain analysis form, and sent me packing.  I walked away cursing, spitting nails, and swearing to all things holy that I was through. I still kind of feel that way. Why should I eat. I have no clue. I am not going to starve to death. nothing about me says starving. So bite me.  However, I know that this is ineffective. I will not get where I want blah blah blah (or as Brie so eloquently says Yackity schmackity) I get it. I hate it but I get it.  So here it is 11:47 am. Have I had breakfast?, no. Have I had morning snack, uh no am I planing on it? Nope not really. Will I have a Poweraid Zero and a piece of gum? Yes I will. Am I going to wander around the grocery store looking for food that fits my safe list and some that fits J.P.'s list too? Yes I will. Will I eat it? Now there is the question. I am going to do my chain and go back to therapy. All of this is called recovery?

Welcome Back

Yellers old friend,
 I have returned, from a pit of desolation. Well I have put one hand outside the hole anyway. Whatair, whatair, so today I am alive and I got paid my little pittance. I need to do a tad of an update. This summer has been a whirlwinder. My birthday came and went no surprise there it always does, however I must say that this year was one of the best I can remember. Two traffic tickets sent me for a loop. I mean, more like a nose dive to hell. Edog has been there the whole time asking the right questions not sending me to the hospital. Teaching me to be mindful yes we can say DBT skill of the year. The battle with will I relapse will I not is starting to drive J.P. a bit insane. She of course wants me off the EDNOS fence on to the "tada I am a eating disorder winner look at my metabolism shine" side. The voice in my head wants the cut out bread and meat all together. "you don't want breakfast or morning snack or lunch fatty then you'll have to puke it up" side. What Shall I do. J.P. says I can't go to the gym until I am eating my snacks. Fine but I will do sit ups in my room and wear my ankle weights everywhere I and not eat any snacks or breakfast or lunch. So there. Suck on that.

 So other news,
The family was here. Park City Again, of course  we had to take pictures for number 3 FML don't they get it I don't want anyone to see that.
I am going to the hormone guy in Texas. I don't care what 1&2 say they can stay the way they are forever if they want. I on the other hand am used to strict  regimes I can do anything. What else do I have to say welcome back to my world.

I want to die. There I said it.  No I don't want to escape this mortal pain. I don't want to run from my emotion. I want to be dead.  Gone from this earth. I know that this will cause great pain to mat they would  family and friends. I know that they would miss me and they would suffer. I don't want them to suffer.  Don't get me wrong I am not saying that I am going to go out and kill myself.  (today anyway)  I just wish I understood it is all. Things are starting to look up for me. I got a job and everything is okay. Yet I want to die

I have no little gems today as my roomie calls them. No bits of humor or quips of sarcasm. I am full of despair. But that seems like such a small word for what I feel.  Words like loom and grave and danger fill my head. I feel as though I have stepped on to a thin shelf  over a great precipice. I have never done this in real life but I assume that foreboding and treacherous  are the words that people feel when they do. I feel this is a unsafe place for me to be physically and emotionally. I do not know what to do about it. I can only feel it. Edog would say that I have the skills to deal with this even if it takes every bit of my energy. My brain tells me to give up. Run away from this monster that has hidden so well. My eating disorder has rushed to the forefront telling me that everything will be okay if I rush safely back to her arms. This is not the answer I know that but it is so damn inviting I will admit I am dabbling in it at times. I find my way back with roommate therapy and a few tears but I know that this damn has yet to break. This thin shell may break and I may fall. 

Stage two???

I committed safety to E-dog last night. I am committed to using every skill in the book. Having said that I feel an overwhelming sense of urgency to prove that I can be perfect at dbt. Is it weird that I feel like that is living a lie. That me telling E that I am sleeping right now is pointless. She wants me to be responsible for myself  sleeping. I thought I was. I just thought I was telling her honestly how many hours. I am so confused.  I feel lost in a pool of grape. Trapped in the pit of my terror and despair of abandonment. Ok so I know that that feeling is not necessarily justified at that height.  Hence alas that is where it stays even after 15 hours. I did use opposite action  I ate dinner which I wasn't planning. But my pavlovian response from treatment kicked in if that is not skill use I don't know what is. I didn't call for coaching on that and I could have. Sniffling and whining and asked what skill to use but did I nope I had that one all wrapped up with a bow. After an hour on the phone I don't think E-dog has any more confidence in me for stage two work than she did when I the left the food hotel. But I will show her as long as she doesn't ask then what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

loser

I am a loser it is confirmed. I am  also so mad that I could spit pit bulls. So E-dog today. I think things are going fine. She pulls out the old "therapy interfering behavior for her" shit. That means in DBT language that something that I am doing is wrong. Then she proceeds to tell me that continuing to call her being suicidal is not working for her. That it is "Stage One" work. So basically she doesn't want to hear it. she wants me to be in quiet desperation. so in other words my once a week phone call to ask for support to not swallow my fucking pills. Is too much for her and I need to keep my mouth shut. So that is what stage two work is people suffer in silence. with a little opposite action thrown in. Oh yeah don't do anything stupid like cut your self with a razor or take a dozen or two sleeping pills or heaven for bid stick your fingers down your throat. Because then your well I mean me. your a fucking stage one treadmil walking loser

crying shame

So i weighed myself today,(boo fucking hoo) . Why did I do this shame inducing thing. Because I had to know, well no not really.  I am going to the doctor's today and I wanted to be prepared  I hate being blind sided there. So I did it I stepped on the scale. Why is it that my mood is tied to that little box? I hate this life I want off the train. The choo choo to relapse. I gotta get off.  Diet girl says that if I don't change my ways I am dumped. How do I say I can't change this. It is my life. and it is a crying shame

Grape and Drama?????

Thank you, E-Dog for my sanity hour today. Recovery is a bitch. Grape and Drama therapy is fucking hell. But without you I would be in a pit of despair.  how long till my life gets better? maybe never but I can't give up now.   Calories in and calories out how many calories in a flashback? I am stuck today. Maybe it is a good day to find myself back here. Back in the old world. lost in my head and finding the grief of a little girl long dead and broken inside of my soul. Can Drama therapy save her or am I just to late?