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Saturday, 24 October 2009

  • For a minute there, I lost myself...

    Karma Police.


    Well ladies and gentlemen, they're finally taking me away. They've realized I'm really batshit crazy and need serious help before I explode from being too goddamn fat.
    Alright, that's my anger talking there.

    I'll start at what happened last night...I hadn't eaten in a week, and hadn't had anything to drink in two days. I was tired, weak, lethargic, dizzy, and my heart was pounding like a hammer. I was sitting beside my mom, who kept asking me what was wrong...again, and again, and again.
    Somewhere in my confusion, her confusion, and lethargy, I confessed of my inability to eat.
    Her rage meter went from 0-10 in a matter of....2.3 seconds. She ran into the kitchen, grabbed a yogurt (35 cal) and told me to eat it.
    "I can't" I said.
    "Yes you can!"
    So after....half an hour of screaming back and forth my mom gave up, she set the yogurt down, ran into the bathroom....and minutes later I heard her crying.
    Really crying...sobbing crying.
    Well, that made me feel like shit...I felt like the lowest form of human being in the world.

    But I couldn't eat it...
    So after fighting more when my mom came out, and my step mom came along...they decided they were going to take me to the hospital.
    We went, they said I was dehydrated. I drank water, had half a popsicle (30) because the doctor was nice and I already made my mom cry today...
    So I stuck it in my mouth, and chewed.
    Felt like shit....I wanted to throw up.
    Then they sent me home, with the recommendation that I be taken to the hospital in the city the next day.

    So here we are...
    Today.
    My parents are taking me into the city, because they...don't know what else to do.
    My  mom is frustrated..
    My step mom is trying to understand...
    And I'm in the middle, frustrated, trying to understand, and wishing I could drop dead.
    We'll see what happens...
    I'm both hoping they see through me, and realize that I need help...badly.
    And hoping that they say everything is fine, and I can go home....so I can continue my slow suicide.

    I'm tired of hurting the people I love around me though, when my mom cried last night I just wanted to curl up on the couch and sleep forever.
    But I know that forever...isn't possible.
    Something has to change...
    I just don't know how.

    So goodbye for a bit (maybe), I'll be sure to share my stories when I get back.
    I'll miss you...

Wednesday, 21 October 2009

  • Reasons of excuses

    ...where exactly do the lines blur?

    (I'll follow up on my last blog, just wait until I get these few things out of the way...)

    Today I felt so out of place...like I was walking through a whole different world. Every sound, sight, sensation, smell...is sharper, more revealing.
    When you know, that in a short while you wont be walking this Earth anymore, it's funny how you pay more attention to the little things.

    The rust on the train tracks, the way they shake and squeel as a train comes by... the sickeningly greasy smell of the pizza place you'd never dare to eat at... the soothing pitter-patter of your footsteps down an empty hallway.
    Everything is more cherished, and for a moment you think,
    "I'll miss this place."
    And the next thought is,
    "But I wont miss the way I was living in it..."

    I wont miss stepping on the scale and holding my breath like I was waiting to hear the death penalty...
    I wont miss crying in front of the mirror, twisting my body every which way,  sucking in, breathing out...sucking in, breathing out. Pinching my flesh so hard my skin would stay red for hours...
    I wont miss hiding food under my bed, and sneaking out of the house to dispose of it in the middle of the night...
    I wont miss the sleepless nights I spent with only my obsessive thoughts to keep me company.
    I wont miss living in terror every moment of the day, wondering if the 3 calories in the gum I had would make me gain weight.
    I wont miss my hair falling out, my nails breaking, and my fragile and dry skin.
    I wont miss being cold in the middle of summer.
    I wont miss sleeping during classes because I had no energy.
    I wont miss passing out 3-5 times a day.
    I wont miss going for walks alone during my lunch hours at school.
    I wont miss being a slave to my running shoes.
    I wont miss being so self-conscious that I refuse to leave the house.
    I wont miss any of those things...
    and I will not miss ana.

    I'm scared though...for the first time in a very long time.I feel scared...to leave everything  behind. But then I remember, that I don't want to come back to this life...there's nothing good here waiting for me.
    I've only been hurt, and hurt myself...
    People that I've loved and trusted have betrayed me, played cruel jokes on me, bullied me, tossed me around like a rag doll...
    I've punished myself, and tortured myself past the point of breaking.
    I'm a prisoner in my own mind, in my own body...I just want to break free.
    There's nothing  here for me but pain and suffering.
    Happiness is long gone..
    The person I used to be is lost.
    Who I am now...is blurred, and distorted.

    I know that there will be people who will miss me when I'm gone...only when I'm gone.
    "You don't know what you've got till it's gone"
    It's very true...
    I may cause pain when I take my leave out of this world...
    But trust me, it's less pain that I will cause if I stay.

    Much.
    Less.
    Pain.

Tuesday, 20 October 2009

  • Perpetual Sadness

    I've tried to block it out.

    But the sadness rains down...puddling at my feet and throwing my reflection back at me.

    Basically I haven't posted in a couple of days because I had a small break down. Alright, slightly bigger than small. But close enough. I don't exactly know what happened...

    I suppose I could start at Saturday. I had tried very very hard to just...eat...but everything I ate I ended up having to get rid of.
    Then during my shift at work my  heart started  beating irregularly, then beating very very fast. My whole chest tightened up and my heart continued to race, even though I was standing still just prepping cheese. I did everything I could think, I drank water, sat down and put my head between my knees, deep breathing, etc. But my ears had begun to ring and a wash of cold went through my entire body...
    I was certain that I was either going to pass out or have a heart attack, possibly both. But somehow I managed to push through. It was a bit of a scare though...I kept thinking,
    "Oh no, not again. Not again."
    I tried to eat again on Sunday...I couldn't. Purged everything.
    Same thing yesterday.
    Finally, I decide...fuck it.
    Fuck it.

    Then I had my breakdown.
    I had an anxiety attack, essentially...which lead to self-injury. In the past I've dealt with a serious Anxiety Disorder, and used SI as a means to calm myself and bring myself back down.
    But last night something kind of, 'snapped' in my mind.
    I can't do this anymore.
    I wont do this anymore.

    I made up my mind.
    I am going to die.
    I'm going to die.
    I am GOING TO DIE.

    I'm commencing my 'Suicide Diet'.
    I wont share the details of the diet with anyone, in fear they might attempt to copy...I couldn't bear being responsible for someone else's death.
    I'm not entirely sure how long the Suicide Diet will last, two weeks at most.

    In the time my heart has the tremendous burden of still beating though, I'll be saying my goodbyes. That includes on xanga...
    I'll be trying to post as often as I can during this next small while....
    I'll miss each and every one of you. Very much.

    But I've made up my mind...
    I'm in the process of editing my suicide note, I'll try to find time to share it tomorrow if I finish.

    Anyways...
    Thinspo? If you want it to be...take from these images what you want.






     


    That's all I could upload right now...my concentration is nearing zero at the moment.
    Those pictures...I chose them because I wanted to portray anorexia, not Ana.
    I wanted to show anorexia's ugly little head...I wanted to show pain.
    Those, speak pain...to me.




    I'm lost...

    I find those pictures beautiful

    and ugly

    and true.


    I need  help...I know it.

    But I am now convinced, that I am not going to get it.
    Health Sciences Center, Eating Disorders Unit...
    I'm sorry so say that I wont be able to attend my appointment on November 15th.
    Because I will be dead.
    You gave me enough time to change my mind about wanting help...
    Thank you.
    And thank you to everyone around me who thought my eating disorder wasn't serious enough to give a rats ass about.
    To everyone who knew about my problems, but didn't bother to say or do anything.
    To my parents, who let things keep going.
    To my counselor, who heard me scream...but perhaps not loudly enough.
    To my friends, who knew what I was doing to myself, and sometimes even helped me do it.
    To ana, for taking everything from me...and more.
    And to myself, who was long lost in the midst of the battle.

    Thank you.
    So very.
    Very.
    Much.

Saturday, 17 October 2009

  • Here we go.


    Again.

    [Haven't we been here before...? This place seems familiar.
    OH WAIT! Yes, yes we have.
    How many times have I had to put up with this bullshit over the past 5 years? Too many.]

    I'm going to start with my situation with friends.
    Most of my friends have caught me purging in the washroom in the past (grade 8 mostly) when I was more bulimic than anything. It was always that heart stopping moment when I'd walk out of the stall and there would be one of my friends just standing there, staring at me.
    I'd have that moment of sheer panic...a cold shiver would run up my spine, the back of my throat would tighten, my whole body would feel like it suddenly left the Earth. Then I'd wonder, what do I say? Do I explain? Make up an excuse? Change the subject and act like nothing happened?
    Usually it was the last option.
    And things would go on like nothing ever happened.

    I have what some people could call a best friend, and we'll call her...um...how about...Jillian. Well, she knows a lot about me and my past. She even came to visit  me once, when I was in treatment for 6 months...I both appreciated and dreaded the visit. I kept thinking things like, I hope the other patients behave when she  gets here...I don't want her to think I'm like them. Because, I'm not crazy. Right..?

    Anyways, it got to a point where Jillian made up the excuses for me. She'd smile awkwardly after I came out of the bathroom after a long while (if other people were present) and she'd say,
    "Hey, did the nose bleed stop?"
    She'd make up excuses for me, and it both helped me and hurt me at the same time.
    She's even taken up the 'responsibility' of eating the lunches that I take to school, and telling my parents that I've eaten if need be.

    I don't know weither to be thankful or not.

    My parents however...when they first realized that the shit hit the fan(again), they forced me to eat and watched me eat. Every. Single. Bite. ...wouldn't let me even go to the washroom even if I genuinely needed to take a leak afterwards.

    But as the days wore on they got more slack and more slack again...and soon enough I was back up to all of my ugly tricks again, and now this is the end of my second day of the 30 day fast.
    I want to scream,
    "ARE YOU BLIND?!"
    But then again I want to stay silent and thank them for the ignorance.
    You'd think they'd had  learned by now.

    I'm guessing that they're waiting for November 15th, as I am.
    Waiting for the 'professionals' to whisk me away so they don't have to deal with me anymore.
    I'm so lost...
    I am broken.
    And I don't know how to get fixed.
    Or even if it's possible at this point.
    I've done recovery, and I've done relapse, and more recovery, then relapse after relapse after yet another relapse.
    Five years of the same tiring song...

    I want it to both end and continue.
    But I think that those who read this understand completely.

    I hate to admit this.
    But I truly want to die.
    But not right now.
    No.
    Never.
    I could never imagine the embarrassment of having someone walk in on my big fat walrus corpse laying on the floor in my own blood.
    At least I'll weigh less without all that blood.
    Oh shut up you, no one asked you to contribute to the conversation, Ana!
    Alright alright, I'll stop with the inside ED jokes.

    But I really mean it...I'd probably commit suicide right now if I didn't think that I was too fat to die.
    And as I mulled it all over...
    I realized.

    I think I'm crazy.



Friday, 16 October 2009

  • Anxiety

    "Help, I'm alive. My heart is beating like a hammer."

    -Metric

     

    I wanted to fill you guys in a little, about what's basically going on in my life right now.

    -I'm not in recovery (yet) <-- I'll get to that bit later

    -My ED has gotten very bad, but I'll go into more detail (later)

    -I have an appointment at the ED unit on November 15th

    -My parents are now aware of what I have slipped back into

    -My friends are actually helping me carry out my ED

    -I am in school, but so far I'm failing

    -I have a job, at a food chain. Because apparently I'm a sadist to myself

    -I started self-harming again

    -My step father and my dad are no longer together

    -My dad attempted suicide

    -I've pretty much isolated myself from life

    -I don't know if I'm going to make it.

    Those are the key things I guess right now...the 'important' big details. Another one I guess is that I'm on a 30 day fast, this is day 2 so far.  My state of mind I guess is that if they're taking me down (parents + ED unit) I'm going down fighting and screaming. I can't let go of my 'anorexia nervosa' just yet...I need to hang onto it. I'm actually scared, my whole body shakes when I really think about. There's a wave of terror that resonates all through my body and all I can think of is the horrors that lie behind those hospital doors...waiting for me.

    Food

    Pills

    'Therapy'

    The TUBE

    Ensure

    Food

    FOOD

    FOOD

    Scales

    Weight gain

    Fat

    FAT

    FAT

    FAT

    Food

    And other skinny patients that make me want to cry...every time I end up in that hell hole I think,

    "I don't belong here...I'm not thin enough yet."

overtherainbowthin

  • Visit overtherainbowthin's Xanga Site
    • Name: overtherainbowthin
    • Gender: Female
    • Member Since: 11/12/2008

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