A Wasted Day of Work

My first exam is on Friday. I've been studying hard, but I can't make anything stick.

I've just thrown up dinner. I don't know why I did it, I told myself I didn't have to, and that I could choose not to. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop myself. I feel so weak.

I'm angry at my boyfriend. He has taken to not responding to some of my messages when we speak on Facebook chat. It is small and childish, but it makes my brain start screaming about how he mustn't care and to leg it before he hurts me. I'm sure he means nothing by it. He will be stressed with his exams, and he always speaks to his flatmates too. Plenty of reasons.

As I type this he has messaged me.

I love him. I wish I didn't, because it means that I'll start looking for ways to tear the relationship and him (me) apart. I can notice most things I do now, but I am scared I'll fuck it all up before I realise what I'm doing.

I will try to keep things in perspective and I will not allow myself to act purely on emotion. This is the first time I've been with someone who I don't look down on. I don't make him seem like less than what he is (makes it easier to leave/hurt them). I can't break this.

I am a terrible human being.

On a positive note, the ceilidh was the best night out I have ever had, and I really enjoyed myself. All of that worrying was for nothing!

Ceilidh!

I forgot to mention in my last post that I'm going to a ceilidh tonight.

I don't really want to go, but I must make myself socialise! If I shut myself away I'll just get more and more miserable. I keep telling myself that nobody wants me there, but all of my friends kept asking me to come and they more or less press-ganged me into agreeing to go. Plus, I promised someone who is new to the society that I'd hang out with him because he doesn't know anyone. I'm going to his for drinks beforehand, and the nice girl from my tutorial will be there.

I am concerned about the drinking part. I am a complete arse sometimes, and drink increases the chances of this happening. I should be ok. I hope I am.

My boyfriend can't come because he doesn't have any smart trousers. This is the reason! He has said this before! My stupid fucking head is determined to be angry at him for something he hasn't done though, and I think he's making excuses for everything and that he doesn't care about me. I don't want this to happen with him! He doesn't deserve it. If I start finding myself picking fights (as I always do) with him, I don't know what I'll do.

I think I love him (it's only 2 months though, plus I can never trust my own feelings), so naturally I need to push him away. I need to reject him before he hurts and abandons me. I need to call him out on crimes he is bound to have commited, because nobody could possibly care for me, he must be using me!

I'm such a fucking moron.

Back on Track?

Last night I managed not to make myself sick, despite eating more than I should have. I am quite happy about this, but I'm still pretty upset with the general way my eating is going.

I have made a loose meal plan that I have to stick to. The idea behind it is that I eat regularly enough to never feel deprived of food, reducing the chances of bingeing. I have also (I hate myself for this) kind of started smoking again. I think this is more because of depression than eating though. I promise to buy no more cigarettes, and I have about 13 left.

Anyway the meal plan.

Breakfast: Either cereal (with soya milk, real milk is a bad food and I can't bring myself to have it) or 2 slices of toast.

Snack: This one doesn't apply during the week, if I'm at lectures. If I'm at the flat and I had an early breakfast I will eat something.

Lunch: Sandwiches and a small snacky-type thing. Apple if I need more.

Snack

Dinner: General main-meal type food. I am trying to be careful with my portion sizes so I don't eat too much and feel as though I've binged.

Snack

Now to define snack. It kind of hurts to write this out, but I have biscuits and these little mini cake bar things I got in Iceland. A snack is 3 biscuits or 1 cake bar. I tried crisps but I always eat ALL of them once I buy them. I feel guilty for eating such calorie-dense foods, but I know that I need to have slightly more because it's winter, and it's snowing and the river has frozen over etc. I'm also trying to get over my phobia of drinking anything (bar tea) with calories. If I'm thirsty and I fancy a normal Irn Bru, I will have a normal Irn Bru.

So far it is working. I feel better in general, and the urge to binge is not only easier to resist, but it is happening less. I know it won't always be like this, and I will still binge sometimes, but at least I'm not encouraging it.

I'm going to gain weight, and it kills me, but unless I break out of this cycle any attempts to lose weight will only make me more and more ill, and I don't want that.

I'm alone with my eating disorder just now, and I refuse to let it pull me under. I can work on gradually reducing my calorie intake when I can trust myself to do so sensibly.

Realisations

I did not want to write today. It has been a hell of a day.

I got up and had breakfast, and drifted off to my tutorials in my usual Friday fashion. I managed to avoid spending "lunchtime" with the guy from my philosophy tutorial who appears to be very dedicated and patient in his pointless attempts to bond with and woo me. I went back to my flat, wrote a shopping list and went to Tesco. This is where things went downhill.

I can't throw up in the bathroom here; my flatmates would notice. I do it in a plastic bag in my sink. Yes, disgusting. My plastic bag supply has vanished, and so today I had to face the shame of buying small bin liners purely for the purpose of throwing up in. What's more, the only small ones I could find are these pretty little lilac perfumed ones. It's safe to say I felt like shit. And what did I do in response to this, you ask? Why I purchased binge food, of course.

I returned to the flat. Binged. Purged. Felt the usual mixture of guilt and disgust. Then something different happened.

I was hit with the realisation that I am responsible for the continuation of my eating disorder. It is my self-loathing that feeds it. Things have been nothing short of catastrophic this week, and I've fallen out of all of my usual routines. The thought of leaving the flat has made me feel sick, and instead of obsessively cleaning my room, as is the norm, it descended into a complete shittip. It was branching out and taking over.

The thing is, I will admit that I don't like myself but I find it very hard to acknowledge that genuine self-hatred is one of the main aspects of my eating disorder. The violence of bingeing and purging is the same as my self-harm; it numbs the pain but also punishes myself. I punish myself for being me.

I hate myself because of my past. I can see how it has made me what I am. I hate what I am. I am manipulative, spiteful, unstable and generally just a big fucking miserable liar. I hate how I thwart all of my own attempts to improve things. If my depression alone can't isolate me I act like a complete bitch to scare people away. My fear of abandonment means I will actively try to prevent what I want more than anything: to be close to others.

I'm a mess. I need to fix this.

I realise I can't do it overnight, that it has to be a gradual thing, and I need to start with my bulimia. I accept that I'm a bulimic. I hate the word so damn much, but I need to recognise what is wrong with me. I also have a personality disorder (as advised by an uppity psychiatrist, my suspicion is BPD but I will wait for a formal diagnosis), but I can't begin to tackle this properly until I have decreased the chaos caused by my binge/purge/restrict cycles (I haven't heard from the psychiatrist in a while, and the psychology place sent me a letter saying there's a huge waiting list. I am on my own with this at the moment).

I will be careful with my food. I'm going to make sure my blood sugar levels never get too low, as this increases the likelihood of a binge. I will eat regularly. I will have breakfast, lunch, dinner and two snacks. Three if I have been awake for more hours. This will make me feel huge, but I need to get some stability before I can consider evaluating exactly how much I need. I may keep a food diary, but this has the danger of making me want to restrict.

The most important part of my plan is keeping in mind that I'm not forcing myself to do anything. I'm allowing myself to get better. I'm allowing myself to take back control.

Failure

I was 10 minutes away from making it a week with no purging and I fucking failed. I mader myself sick. I wasn't even careful like I normally am, I just bolted to the bathroom.

Goddamn.

I'm so angry with myself. I let myself down. I let my boyfriend down.

My flatmates are being as cruel and disgusting as always. I broke part of the fridge and a cupboard in my rage, but got them kind of fixed. I need this anger sorted.

On the plus side, I bought cheerios and soya milk. To make breakfast more interesting.

6 Days

Six days without making myself sick. I admit, I have been eating more than I should have, but the most disgusting part hasn't happened. I am proud, and I will feel great if I make it through tomorrow too.

I did feel like shit this morning though. I had stayed at my boyfriend's, then in the morning he announced that his sister was appearing in about half an hour, and I was expected to leave and make it look like I was never at his. I'm sure she saw me leave his flat, but I didn't even look at her. I couldn't. Normally I'd even smile, just like I would with anyone, but he made me feel ashamed. I know he didn't mean it, and I understand why he didn't want his sister to know he had a girl stay over, but still.

I am almost always depressed now. It's not just the sudden plummets in mood that send me into despair, but the hideous melancholy emptiness that makes me consider an overdose again. Not because I desperately want to die, but because I don't want to live. In a way that's worse, because I'm not really feeling.

I'm not even sure how to write tonight. Everything's spinning faster and faster and I want it to stop. At least I'm getting some stability with my eating.

While I was out last night I got a text from my flatmate saying the party was over, they were going out and that they'd clean up in the morning. I got back at about half 11 this morning and it was quite clean. It is now very clean. I am horribly impressed. I had went into full-on bitch mode with them and was concerned that they'd be hostile towards me (I'd kind of deserve it) but we seem to be maintaining a level of civility. I like this. I don't want to be friends with them, I just want to feel safe and comfortable in my own flat.

It's going to be a long night...

It's midnight, I really want to sleep, and one of my flatmates is having a huge screaming match with her boyfriend on Skype, ruling out any possibility of sleep.

Let me tell you about her.

The first night I was in this flat she came to my room wailing about boy problems and showed me personal texts she'd sent to a guy she was chatting up. I hadn't spoken to her before so I Was a bit weirded out, but brushed it off. I got to know her a bit better and things did not get sunnier.

She's a Chinese student who is over for one semester, to study law. I asked her what she hopes to do with her degree, and she said "Oh nothing, I want to marry someone rich so I never have to work." She was serious. She had a doting boyfriend waiting for her in China, but informed me she is always dating other guys in the hope of finding someone "better looking or more rich." Hey poor boyfriend was aware of this, as he checked her email and whatnot.

She's a bit crazy. She wil lnever get angry at me. If I annoy her she will break things and scream to herself, but never yell at me. She did hiss like a cat when I really wound her up. She has also painted a bathroom wall with her period blood when in a rage.

Crazy.

Anyway, the boyfriend has had enough of her and dumped her. She told me this and started crying right after I found her raiding my cupboards (a LOT of stuff has gone missing recently), so I wasn't sure if she was really upset. She's not screaming and wailing. I guess she is.

It serves her right. I want to be sympathetic, but she is a whore. Almost literally. She doesn't sleep with a guy out of love, she does it so she may one day be the rich wife.

There is a lot more I could say about her, but I'm too tired to. I just want to rest!

Mild Improvement?

First of all, I would like to say that I haven't purged at all this week so far, and it is currently Thursday. I have had what I can refer to as mini-binges, where I start bingeing and am interrupted, but I have not made myself sick. That said, I came very close to this morning, and would have if I hadn't taken my contraceptive pill and multivitamin just half an hour before. Not purging after a binge is slightly preferable to risking pregnancy.

My boyfriend got very upset last night when he found out about my stash of appetite suppressants. I ended up quite upset myself, but I tried to talk a bit about it and reassure him. I was angry, because he was acting very cold towards me, but he told me it's just because he was unhappy that it was happening to me.

I woke up this morning and felt like it would be a terrible day. I was furious with my flatmates, because we have an inspection on Monday morning, and the flat has to be spotless or we can get fined. None of them had any intention of cleaning or even tidying. This is their general attitude towards housework, and I hate them for it. Anyway, this anger and frustration triggered my breakfast binge; something very very uncommon. I got everything prepared to purge, but couldn't because of the pill. It's quite scary knowing that I would have ruined all of my hard wrk this week if it wasn't for that.

I had no hope for the day. I went to my first lecture and couldn't focus. I ate a pretty good lunch. I had carrot and cucumber sticks (both supposedly negative calorie foods, as in digesting them burns more calories than they contain) and some oatcakes, with coffee. My hunger was actually satisfied. My boyfriend had some time to kill before my tutorial so we met up for about 20 minutes, which cheered me up. My last lecture of the day was great, so it's not been a bad day so far.

I'm hoping to have a decent dinner tonight. Pasta bolognese. I'm also drinking more coffee, as it is very good at reducing the chances of me bingeing, however I know the caffeine will not do my anxiety levels any good.

The bin in the kitchen is full. My flatmates will most likely continue to pile things on top of it. I'd better empty it when the rain stops; nobody else will.

Love/Hate

I told my boyfriend about my eating disorder.

I was so worried about the effects it is having on my health that I had to. It wouldn't be fair not to, because he'd end up thinking something else was up. To be fair, it's a bit of a relief. It was tearing me apart keeping it from him. I promised him I'll be better soon.

I haven't purged in 2 days, but I have had a couple of binges., I am fat and disgusting. I saw my thighs in the mirror this morning and wanted to cry at the cellulite. I'm out for a meal tonight, and if things go to plan it'll be the biggest meal I have in a while. I must, lose weight. There's no two ways about it.

I'm also pretty fucked; I think I love my boyfriend. I'm not sure, I don't trust my feelings, but this keeps overwhelming me. It just means I'll get hurt and the thought makes me feel sick. I suppose that this is another reason to lose weight; I have to be attractive to him so he's less likely to leave me.

Haha, right back into my usual styles of thinking. Shoot me now.

Fear

I feel sad.

I just realised how scared I am of somebody seeing me eat a proper meal. I always eat in my room, with the excuse that it means I can avoid my flatmates more. I just made myself stay in the kitchen to eat lunch (just noodle soup) and I was terrified that somebody would walk in the whole time I was eating.

The day was meant to be good. I went to the big Boots store on Sauchiehall Street to look for rehydration salt things and multivitamins. I think I'm losing hair; there's a lot more than normal falling out. I got the multivitamins and some gentle mouthwash to use after I purge, because I know brushing damages your teeth a lot after you've been sick. I couldn't find the rehydration stuff, and I didn't ask. I was afraid I'd be called out on why I was looking for them.

I got back to the flat and realised how exhausted I was. Even walking down 2 flights of stairs to leave the building leaves me out of breath. I then got very angry, because the bin was starting to overflow and as usual nobody else had thought to empty it. I did, slamming many doors and stomping lots in the process. I think they realise I'm angry at them. I was happy to see the cooker has been cleaned though.

One of them is having a birthday party next week, and I should be staying at my boyfriend's that night. Hopefully she'll clean up before and after. That would be nice. I'm fed up of being the only person to actually clean anything. It makes me so angry, and right now I don't have the strength to feel anything. It just makes me feel faint.

I'm going to Tesco to buy tinned tomatoes and pasta later, and I may have a look at buying some scales. It will probably end badly if I do.

Jealousy?

There's a girl I see in one of my lectures who obviously has an eating disorder. I only noticed her at first because she has fairly bright hair, but her legs are thinner than my arms. So skinny. Her face is kind of sunken in. I always see her, with her chewing gum and ice water, constantly twitching.

I don't like her.

I don't know why.

Maybe because she is something I know I will never be. She's so skinny. I admire her, but she scares me. It's horrible. I worry about her.

I saw her in Tesco when I went to buy binge food earlier. She was buying sushi seaweed stuff and oatcakes. I only had a sieve and plastic tubs in my basket at that point, so I didn't feel too awful. I hovered around her, pretending to look at the skimmed milk as well. I don't know why I did that. I wanted to talk to her, but that would have just been creepy. I wanted to tell her that I look out for her in every lecture and secretly worry that she won't turn up because she's in hospital or worse.

I feel so alone with my eating disorder, especially because I'm not actually thin. I don't get compliments on my weight to validate what I'm doing. That sounds so awful.

I went back to my flat with the food you'll see above, and I have a moderate stash besides that. I ate one of the bars of chocolate and a muffin. The urge to binge had went away, and I couldn't bring myself purge after seeing her.

I did it after dinner though. It would just be too much to ask to have one day without all of this shit.

Sickness

I need an update, methinks.

First of all, after my man-hating outburst, I have another boyfriend. I will tell you the story.

I wasn't upset when my ex left me. I thought I was but it was a relief. I could get on with things. Yeah there was this big gap where there was usually a relationship, but I could cope.

I went out a little while after with my flatmate (before I started hating them all), and there was a horribly attractive guy standing relatively close to me, alone, and looking pretty moody. I wasn't happy with this, and as I was sitting down I couldn't shuffle away, so I tried to get rid of the tension I was feeling by speaking to him.

And we talked. We drank. By the end of the night we were eating each other's faces.

The next day I was nervous as fuck, I'm not going to lie. I had decided someone as fantastic as him was too good to be true, and that he'd either want nothing to do with me or turn out to be an arse. We ended up texting lots, and I stopped worrying so much, and he took me out for dinner.

I was nervous again, but it was great, then we went back to my flat and hung out. No sex then, which is important.

We've been seeing each other for about 6 weeks now, and we've achieved couple status. He's great.

There are some massive differences in this relationship compared to others.

1. I can't play my usual mind/emotion/manipulation games. He doesn't pick up on my usual stuff, so I have no choice but to accept things as they are, which allows me to see how nice they are. He told me he has AS, which may be something to do with this, but I'm reluctant to say this is the case.
2. I didn't jump straight into bed with him. I waited a week before making a move on him and I was nervous about that. I know that's not much for most people, but bear in mind I use sex as another way to control people usually.
3. I enjoy sex with him. This has never happened before. The most I would get is enjoyment at being that close with somebody. I now get actual sexual pleasure.
4. I'm not doing my usual "flipping" thing so much. Worshipping the ground he walks on one minute, then hating him the next, then back again etc. It's not completely stopped, but it's a lot less present than usual.

I have a feeling I've left so much out, but I'm not thinking straight. The full force of my eating disorder has reared its ugly head again. I am making myself sick at least 6 or 7 times a week, and not always after a binge, just after a regular meal sometimes. It's making me ill. I keep feeling sick and dizzy, and I get cramps, have no breath, chest pains, and general confusion. Hooray.

I want to get into the habit of regularly updating this again soon, and hopefully I will. I have had a meeting with a head psychiatrist woman, who is having me referred to another who will be "my" psychiatrist. I've also been referred to a sexual assault counselling thing, where I'll get psychological treatment. With these things taking place I'm going to aim to keep track of it all on here.

Barking Mad

I've been thinking a lot.

My boyfriend dumped me. He can't handle my depression. He was also lying and secretly visiting his ex, who he admits he loves more than me, behind my back. He may ask her to try again with him. Hooray.

It upset me so much. It does really hurt, but I'm not sure if it's for entirely the right reasons.

Whenever I've been with a guy there's always been something missing, something wrong. I always put it down to illness, but I'm, not so sure now. I can love them, I can be in love with them, but it's always like something's not right. That's why I get so angry at tiny things. I'm upset that I'm not making something impossible work.

And sex. I hate sex with guys. With my last boyfriend it was great, but he wasn't very big, so I didn't feel much inside. He gave lovely hugs and could use his mouth well. He didn't come across as some stereotypical macho man, he seemed to be happy with me as myself, so I was comfortable with him and could feel nice in bed with him. This was something very strange. I can't stand sex much, but of course I'll gladly spread my legs to have someone act as though they need me.

I'm not using just a couple of guys to illustrate my point here, god knows I've had enough. I'm starting to think I've been barking up the wrong tree completely.

I've thought of myself as bisexual for a long time. I've had moments where I've sworn off of guys completely, but the second I needed to feel wanted I'd be right back in there. It's so easy to find a guy who will want me and care about me. Maybe that's my problem.

I'm not saying "I'm 100% gay". Not at all, but I think it's something I need to explore, with as little intervention from men as possible.

I need to update, but I have to stop crying first.
Ogodogodogod.
Make it stop hurting please. This is honest love and it's all so fucked up and I hate it and I hate myself and I wish I didn't feel.

Meaning

I look for meaning in everything that happens. The world feels so empty and hollow that I create thing to fill the space. I hurt and upset people and in a way that helps to fill the gap, but all I want is to find my place and live honestly. My fear is that I won't ever be happy that way.

I need to control my irrational reactions to everything. Sometimes I'll feel calm and I can step back and view things logically. Sometimes I can see all of the good things there are in life and the potential for things to get better. Sadly I can hardly ever pull my mind away from the things that make me unhappy, and the hopelessness I feel about my future.

Ultimately I want to make people happy and in turn find people who will do the same for me. I've felt love before, but for something so beautiful it's so delicate, and the slightest thing can ruin it. I don't think you can stop loving someone, but it can become twisted and distorted. I almost predict this happening, and I often wish that I could just stop looking for it. It would save me so much pain, as well as other people, but love is the most fundamental aspect of life. To deny love is to deny existence itself, and so I'm resigned to making myself unhappy pursuing something my very nature will pull apart.

That is why I need help. I need to learn to stop fearing abandonment, I have to stop reading into things too much. I need to stop trying to control people's feelings the moment I sense rejection. I know it makes me a horrible person but I want so badly to change.

I need to change so I can live, and I want to experience life so badly.

:/

So, the update I promised. Late, I know.

Well, the guy I was seeing who things weren't great with. Things ended up fine, but he didn't seem to care much and I had started to love him, so I did the wonderfully undoubtedly sensible thing and cheated on him. There was another guy I cared a lot for and I slept with him. I broke up with Nathan (I'll call him) and got together with Joe (yay for fake names). Things were alright until Nathan told me he actually did care a lot about me, and I ended up in bed with him. I told him I love him and he said he loves me too. I broke up with Joe and me and Nathan are pretty much back together.

That's the brief summary. Wasn't that simple really.

I'm back seeing the psychologist. I move to Glasgow in a couple of weeks. I'm self-harming again and my eating problems are worse. I'm alienating everyone around me. I'm just a very bad person.

I will do a more in-depth post, I just wanted to update before I do that.

I promise you an update this weekend, and by god there's a lot to tell.

I'm doing a very bad thing.

I'm a disgusting person.

Update

Things are good, I should be happy.

The guy I liked at work didn't turn out so nice, but he set me up with his friend, who is amazing. After seeing each other for a while we became "official" last night. I should feel happy but I feel like I forced him into a relationship. I'd felt awful when we were just seeing each other. It just felt wrong with me when we'd sleep together and be intimate.

Work is going well. I'm in a new team, with a new manager and I get on well with everyone.

I'm fat though. Horrible and wobbly. I keep bingeing but don't get much chance to purge now. I hate myself for my lack of willpower. I just hate everything about me.

Love Interest

Things are a bit mixed up. My boyfriend and I broke up, and I'm not interested in the guy from work any more. I think it was just because I knew my relationship was coming to an end and I wanted to prove to myself that I could care for someone else. Turns out I didn't need to bother.

I was chatting to the guy from work on msn, and I mentioned how I'd seen someone who became a little bit of a public figure on a dating site, and it was weird seeing stuff about his sexual preferences and whatnot. He asked for a screenshot of the guy's profile and announced that he was one of his best friends. After much debating with myself I decided to let him put me in touch with this guy over msn, and I'm so glad he did. We got on great, but I kept worrying I was just a pest for him.

I was out in the pub on Saturday night and sat using msn on my phone to talk to him. I was really bored and he suggested that I go to his house. I did, and it was a bit awkward but I liked seeing him. He was a bit quiet so I ended up speaking to the guy he lives with more. The next day we spoke more on msn, then we met up for a little bit in the evening. We got on great, and we've been texting lots.

I'm going to his tonight to watch a movie. I'm armed with haribo, minstrels and pringles.

I do worry I'm rushing into another relationship a bit quickly, but I can't let this opportunity pass me. He's so incredibly nice, he's a massive geek, he makes me laugh, he makes me smile, and so on and so forth. I can't wait for tonight.

On a not-so-great note, my grandpa and great uncle are coming up to stay today. I like them, but they're awful guests who get in the way and expect to be waited on hand and foot. 

Oh Dear

Things are kind of alright just now. I'm really happy-high again so my attention span isn't too great for work but it could be worse.

Things are really bad with the boyfriend. I know it's not working with him and it's just a matter of time until we break up.

I also have a crush on someone at work. An actual schoolgirly crush. He's really like me, we have a lot in common, and I feel really enamoured by him. I hope it dies down pretty quickly, because although we get along great he has a girlfriend, and even if he was attracted to me I wouldn't want ot pull apart a relationship.

Thinking

I've been thinking a lot about dying. 

I wish I didn't have my family or my friends.

I really want to die, but I can't bear the thought of hurting them that much.

I just hope I keep seeing it that way.

Drama

I'm not loving work so much. Let me tell you a story.

So on Wednesday (I think) I got sent home from work to change for wearing skin-tone tights. This was by a woman who dresses very interestingly. None of the other managers agreed with it but because they were in a rush because a client was visiting I had to go. I got home and changed, and had to borrow money to get back in to work. Now I have to work the time I missed. I was only gone for about 2 hours but I have to go and work 3 on Monday morning, my day off. I'm not best pleased.

I ended up comfort eating yesterday as well. I ate a sandwich and some chocolate. I told myself not to worry because I can eat less later, and I was so focused on work I couldn't think of it, and I felt so happy for a little while. 

I binged and purged again last night. This morning has been a great big binge. 

I wish I could eat normally, but I know it's not safe until I get rid of the instinct to use food as a reaction or way to cope with everything. 

I know I'm not writing well, I'm not really with it. I was just underweight the other day, and I've put on 3 pounds since. I'm dreading seeing the effects of yesterday and today. 

I really hate myself for my food problems. 

Without the psychologist all the weight (haha) of them is on me. More pressure.

I wish I could shut myself in my room and sleep for weeks then come out and be thin and happy. I wish I could go to sleep and all the bad things would disappear.

And Now

I don't think I'll get to see the psychologist again. Her working hours and most of the shift patterns for work overlap too much.

I know I sometimes feel like I don't need to see her, but when my mood's low I can sometimes really scare myself, and I want that support and reassurance.

Work and Food

I haven't posted in so long, it seems. I've never felt able to, this big blank box seems really daunting.

I love half of work. I love being on the phones, it's so much fun and I get a real sense of achievement out of it. I hate doing the emails, which is awful because I'm on the email team. I wish I could be on the phones all the time.

Because of stress with starting work I'd been eating a bit more than usual. I was in a new environment and people were making comments about me being thin, and while I'd usually feel happy to hear that (even though it's not true) it just made me feel really self-conscious. So I'd almost been eating "normal" amounts. Recently it seems like everyone around me had started losing weight. Everyone's speaking about their diets and healthy eating plans, and it makes me feel really guilty. It wasn't a good feeling but I could cope with it. I still tried to eat well.

Now it's worse.  I'm really ill. I have bad hayfever and I've caught a nasty bug. There's nothing to eat in the house so I asked my boyfriend if he could bring something when he comes over, because I know that if I don't eat I'm not going to get better very quickly. He said sure, but he won't be eating much because he wants to lose weight. 

I almost feel like he's trying to attack me. He knows about my eating problems and he's never mentioned wanting to lose weight himself before, and I can't help feeling like he's trying to prove a point. I know that really that's not the case, but I still feel hurt. I know how selfish that sounds.

He's on his way over, with food. We had a bit of an argument, because I can't eat more than him and he won't be eating much anyway. I can't sit around him eating when he's not. I guess the pressure of everyone else's diets has finally got to me. I wish he could come over and we could eat a decent meal together. I really want to just sit and have lunch and not worry about it.

Instead he's buying a ready-meal. A fat-filled calorie-laden ready meal. We're to share it. If he wants to lose weight he shouldn't be eating that shit but that doesn't seem to matter to him. Why can't we have something healthy and low fat? Why does he seem to be doing everything he can to make this as hard as possible for me? 

I wish he wasn't coming over. I don't want to see him now. As long as I know he's losing weight too I'm going to feel so worthless. He's my boyfriend, I always had the comfort of knowing that even if I failed to lose weight he'd like me the way I was, but now he's so conscious of his own weight I can't help but be worried he's going to focus on my weight too.

I'm not Bulimic

...but my doctor thinks otherwise.

I went for my blood tests on Wednesday, and I saw on their screen that I have binge eating and they're checking electrolyte levels after vomiting afterwards. Godfuckingdamnit. On my medical records, forever.

Anyway, work's been going well. I'm getting the hang of taking calls and working the system and whatnot. A lot of folk at work are turning out to be kind of bitchy, but some are really nice, and I have to admit I'm pretty attracted to someone who works there. 

I am having boyfriend trouble. As in, it's-pretty-much-over trouble. 

I've been comfort eating and feel like shit because of it.

I'm not happy it's the weekend. At least at work I have something to do and it doesn't matter how bad everything else is. I'm going to feel so lost, especially as my mood has plummeted, and I'm in one of my worst depressive episodes in a while. 

Back Down Again

I love work, it's great. I'm doing really well at the training, and I get on well with everyone there. It's friendly and no too stressful. It keeps me busy. I'm able to eat a little bit for lunch, usually a piece of fruit and a packet of crisps. It's nice, I don't care about hunger, and I'm not so paranoid about my weight. I've had comments from people about how I'm thin and must weigh so little. Yesterday I had two guys smile awkwardly at me and say hi as I was waiting to get a lift home. I still feel some guilt for eating anything after tea, but I'm more comfortable with my body. 

My mood started going down again yesterday though. The paranoia is there. I mentioned being in hospital to the man I get a lift home from. That should have been a sign it was going bad again. I'm suddenly scanning through me mind picking at all my interactions with other people and tearing them apart, convinced there's something wrong there. I feel physically sick when I eat, and I know it's just anxiety but it's not helpful when my family are determined to have so many snacks. I'm really scared, if I'm honest. In the morning yesterday it was awful but I managed to cheer myself up a little and keep talking to people. 

The second I got home it all crashed down. I went for a walk, as usual, thinking it would cheer me up, and I found myself thinking about my overdose, and how I calculated how much I needed to kill me without taking enough to make me pass out and be sick. The look on the doctor's face when he asked how much I'd taken will never leave me. It feels like it was the most honest moment of my life. I know overdoses rarely work, and the doctors and nurses were treating me like a joke until they heard how much I'd taken. I felt a bit ashamed. I never thought about how much it would hurt anyone, to be fair I was so trapped in my depression that everything was distorted and I thought it would be better for everyone. It was the look on the doctor's face that got through to me. I keep reminding myself of it just now. Instead of having a calm walk to make me feel better I spent the entire time making plans to kill myself. I have ideas there, ready, and I'm scared that the slightest thing will trigger them and I'll do it. 

I don't think I want to die, but I really can't tell.

First Day of Work

Work was pretty fun today. I was surprised at how confident I felt. It was great going out and being around lots of people. The training work was pretty boring, but it's something to do.

I ate an apple and a packet of crisps. I felt bad for the crisps but I can work them off later. There's free coffee there too, which is great at cutting my appetite. 

I phoned up the psychologist place and cancelled my appointment, and told them I'd be in touch when I knew when I'd be free. I get a horrible feeling I'm not going to be able to go back. While I'm fine with that now, when my mood drops I'm going to need that support.

Holy Crap I Have a Job

Yes. Work!

About an hour after my interview at the call centre they called me back and asked me to start tomorrow!

So good! While I'm in training I'll be there from 9 to 5, so I can get a lift in the mornings with my stepmum. I'm a bit nervous but mostly just excited. I'll have something to do! Plus it'll be easier to not eat as much, it won't be noticed. I've got my clothes sorted for tomorrow, already laid out.

I'll have to get in touch with the college and leave. I'll also not be able to see the psychologist for a while, which will be not so good, but I can survive until I start properly working and get varied shift times and whatnot.

Vania Zouravliov

Vania Zouravliov has some of the most beautiful drawings I've seen.

These ones seem oddly appropriate for today.

Weekend and FAT

I hate the weekend. My family are around and so I have to eat breakfast and lunch and whatever snacks they push my way. It's horribly fattening stuff as well! Like today, we had chicken fingers and baked potato for lunch, and we're having pizza and chips for tea. Sometime this afternoon we're having chocolate fudge cake and ice cream.

GODDAMN IT!

I can feel the pounds piling back on after my hard work to lose weight. I can't even purge, my parents would hear! It wouldn't be quite as bad if I could avoid the snacks but my parents get suspicious if I refuse any food whatsoever, then start watching my eating habits again.

I already feel huge. My stomach is bloated and fat. The worst thing is, I'll probably enjoy that cake later, but I'll hate myself for it.

I can't wait until the weekend's over. 

Good Girls Don't Swallow

Wow, ok, so the pawnbroker guy phoned up and offered me a part-time job for when they sort stuff out, so about a month away. I accepted, of course, but if I get the call-center job I'll feel bad for having to call up and say I can't work. I'll worry about it if and when it happens.

Anyway, something I meant to mention yesterday. See, in the morning there was some coffee and walnut cake left out for me. I meant to coat it in salt or washing-up liquid so I couldn't eat it (I couldn't throw it out straight away, I can't waste food that way) but I left it too late, and I knew that I would eat the cake. So, I had a brainwave. 

I would chew it, enjoy the delicious cake, savour the taste, then spit it out. 

I did, and it was brilliant. I got to enjoy the cake without actually eating it. All the taste-zero calories :P

Makeover

I decided the red was too gloomy, hope you like the new layout :)

Possible Job?

Yesterday I filled out an online application for a call-centre in a nearby town that's hiring. I thought I'd hear back soon, but what I wasn't expecting was getting a phone call this morning asking if I could do a telephone interview right then. After that I did an online assessment testing stuff like checking codes and whatnot. Five minutes after I finished it I got another call saying I passed and that they want me to go in on Sunday for a proper interview and a tour of the place. I think I stand a good chance of getting a job. Also, on Sunday my family are going through to that town so they can take me and show me where the place is, which is good considering I don't have money for the bus!

I also managed to finish my college assignment that's due in at 5pm. I did a great job. I don't care how arrogant it sounds, it really was a good piece of work. I can't wait to hear back about it.

On a slightly less positive note, guess who binged and purged, then went on to binge and purge again? 

How did you guess it was me? Was it the bleeding knuckle? The disgusting breath? Maybe the fact that my entire body is shaking?

See after I purged the first time the plan was to just eat something small and keep it down. Never works that way though. Thank you very much body, you're just so desperate to gain back those calories. In all fairness I think it's quite admirable how our bodies make us want to binge if we've restricted for a while, it's self-preservation. I just wish there was an off switch.

:D

I feel good today, really good. 

I had college, where I was able to pick up a lot of the answers for an assignment I'm supposed to hand in tomorrow. I was also able to to address the rest of the class a couple of times and state my viewpoints, my confidence was great! I came out of the room feeling almost proud.

I managed to complete and submit a job application just a minute ago. It's for working in a primary school assisting with children who need more support, like those with learning and behaviour problems and disabilities. I really hope I get it. I'd love that job. Also on the job front, the factory where I used to work at are hiring more people soon, so I got a letter asking me to contact them if I was still interested. I phoned up and was asked which of the 3 on-site factories I'd like to work in. Because on of them is too fast and just goes through an insane amount of work in a short time I requested either of the other two. I was in the third one for only one day but I was nearly in tears by the end of it. I really hope I'm offered a job in the factory I was in before, it wasn't too big and I knew where everything was.

I haven't eaten anything yet today, and it's almost 3pm. I feel proud. Not eating means no urge to binge. I am happy!

All-over-body Pain

I'm in agony, I keep bingeing and purging, then restricting. My throat, chest and stomach hurt from making myself sick and the rest of me is in agony from obsessive exercise. 

I have college work to do and I just can't do it, there's no way I can with all these fucked-up thoughts going through my head.

Tonight I'm going to try to sit and go through some of the thoughts about the abuse and practice my grounding exercises. The abuse is one of the roots of my eating problems, maybe this will help a little.

Doctor

I'm going to the doctor shortly. I made the appointment to ask about contraception and stopping smoking but the psychologist says she wants me to request blood tests while I'm there, for electrolyte imbalances.

I'm terrified the doctor will say or do something, and this means that my eating disorder's going on my health records. If it's just with the psychologist and psychiatrist it's all kept quiet, and it's only stuff like medication that gets put on records, not what is actually wrong with you, it's all separate. 

Oh god.

This is going to be there permanently, and potential employers and health insurance companies will see it, and it will be a big black mark against the rest of my life.

Degraded

I've eaten so much today, enough food to last 2 people the whole day. I threw up once. Well, I say once, but it was about 5 times in one "sitting". I feel horrible.

My boyfriend came over today, for sex. It seems like that's all he wants when he comes to the house through the week. He's selfish in bed. He'll go down on me, but only because he knows he can use it to ask me for a lot. I'm fed up of it. I always feel really tired and snap into a daydream during sex. I guess it's a reflex thing from when I was younger.

I feel really fat today. I need to start my exercises again tonight, I'm all flabby. I want to stop tearing my body apart from the inside, but whenever things seem to be going well with eating something crap happens, my self-esteem plummets and I'm back to square one again.

Sunshine

It's been very sunny the past couple of days. I like sitting out in the warm.  I'm going to do a proper update tomorrow, with my family around all the time it's harder to put my thoughts in order.

:)

After typing my last post I felt a huge weight leave me. Instead of trying to push things out of my head and make them seem better than they were I could just look at it and say "that's what happened, I can't change it". 

I've been in a high mood again for the past couple of days, but it feels different that usual. It's like I've been stuck in a glass box watching the world for years and now the walls have vanished. I don't feel so cut off, I feel like I'm part of the world instead of something underneath it. I know that that feeling won't always be so good, but when things get bad again I have this an an example to show myself that it's not always terrible. 

Eating's been ok. I've felt guilty a couple of times and considered purging, but never went through with it. I've been making sure I eat every meal, including breakfast which I've never really liked. I'm having snacks too. It won't always be as easy as it is now, but again I have this example for the future.

I've been reading as well. It's been months since I could read more than a page of a book at a time, but since yesterday my mind's calmed down a bit, letting me focus on things. Instead of a hundred voices and narratives running at once I can choose which ones I want, and keep my thoughts on track. The book is really good. I picked it up in the library on a whim because it had doughnuts on the cover and it didn't sound too terrible. 

It's called This Book Will Save Your Life, and it's by A. M. Homes. The main character is a man who has shut himself off from most people and has this rigidly structured and controlled life. He kind of cracks, and starts feeling the pain of things that have happened in his life, and he pretty much starts to let himself live.

I think one of the reasons I love it so much is because my eating problems have been a way to try to control my life without dealing with my past. It's nice to read about someone moving away from living in a similar way. Still, I'd recommend it to anyone.

Last night I went out with a friend who I don't see often because he goes to university in Aberdeen. We picked up my boyfriend and my friend drove us around all night. It was nice just being in the company of people without having to "do" anything. 

This morning I had a job interview which went really well. A pawnbrokers is opening in my town and they're looking to hire staff, train them, and give them experience working in Aberdeen before the store opens. I really hope I get a job there, it would be interesting work.

Abuse and Living With my Mum

Right. I want to write about the abuse that took place. I need to make myself face up to it, and I'm hoping that this will help. I'm not too good with dates and memories, but the abuse took place when I was about 8, to give you a rough timeline.

When I was very young my parents split up. It had been pretty rocky for a while, and never very good, mainly because of her drinking. I thought the drug use only came later, but I recently found out that I had to be cut out of my mum seven weeks early because I'd stopped growing and started dying. Alcohol and drugs never go well with a fucking unborn child. Anyway, we were left with my mum. She didn't really want us but we were a weapon she could use against my dad. My mum never worked, she has bipolar disorder which she used as an excuse not to work. With my dad gone she was free to have a continuous stream of drinking throughout the day.

She started having a lot of friends over. Most days and every evening she had a few guys over. It was strange but I kept out of the way. It was only when I began noticing they were taking drugs a lot that things started to get unpleasant with my mum. She used to speak to me telling me about cannabis when she was smoking it. They took pills, I'm not sure what, but I think some of them were sedatives of some kind. I was given one when I'd badly hurt my leg and was in agony, and another time when I got crushed underneath a wardrobe. I wasn't taken to the hospital either time, the three children in the house didn't matter to them all. They just wanted us quiet and out of the way. At other times her friends would take some kind of stimulant. She always told me she had a friend who was diabetic, to cover for the syringes she kept in her room. This all made her illness worse. She'd spend a couple of days at a time in her room. Sometimes she wouldn't even drink that much if she hadn't taken a few boxes of wine in with her. She was a zombie. For a couple of days after that she'd be completely wild and energetic. When her friends had drifted off or passed out she'd sometimes wake me up in the early hours of the morning to share some of the great ideas she'd had. I came home from school one day to find she'd painted half the house with some paint she'd found in the shed. It was terrifying, she was so out of control. It wasn't long before my sisters and I didn't really exist to her. I took over looking after them, and tried to make sure we had enough food to eat. 

It was at this point that I started eating for comfort. I was constantly unhappy, and somebody told me that chocolate had chemicals in it that make you happy, so I'd eat a lot of chocolate. I was always very thin, a combination of a fast metabolism and malnutrition I think. I took comfort in school too. I was very good at my work, and praise from my teachers was the closest thing I got to affection. I became a perfectionist with my work.

After a while my mum started to get very short on money. She sold a lot of things, including the tv, meaning that I had no reason to come out of my room when I was at home. She emptied the savings account my family had set up and contributed to for me. She took money from loan sharks. That wasn't enough. More and more bruises appeared on her body from her "friends" and the people she owed money to. She was desperately looking for more ways to find money. It was at this time the abuse started. 

I'm not saying that she set it up, but I can't help but wonder. Her money problems started to vanish after the first time. I doubt she couldn't have known about it. Three men don't go easily missed from a small living room. Nobody ever came upstairs to the bathroom while it was happening, and usually there was someone every ten minutes. It doesn't add up. 

I remember lying in my bed at night, and whenever someone came up the stairs I'd be terrified. I'd close my eyes and listen to their footsteps and pray that they'd walk past to the bathroom. They'd come in, and I'd freeze up. The duvet would be pulled back and they'd rape me. I can't give any more detail, it's too hard. When it was happening I'd pretend I wasn't there and imagine things were different. I did that a lot. Even at school I'd wander around in circles imagining I had a life where things were better. I shut myself off from everything.

I blame myself for it at times, because I never told anyone. I couldn't though. Even if I'd felt able to talk to my mum she wouldn't have listened, and with hindsight I don't think it would have done anything if she'd listened. I didn't see much of my dad, and when I did see him he was really distant. The rare occasion when my mum would speak to me and be nice to me she'd bitch about my dad. I'd be happy to feel liked by her so I'd believe what she said. I couldn't tell my teachers because school was all I really had to be comforted by, and I couldn't risk ruining that. I pushed it to the back of my mind. I couldn't worry about it, I had to look after my sisters. Sometimes when I was really worried that the same would happen to my sisters I had to make myself "available" to protect them. I was and still am very ashamed of that.

Another reason why I kept quiet was because of church. Our mum would take us to a baptist church. They were the stereotypical American fundamentalists. I'd hear them say that if you had sex before being married then you'd go to hell. I was only young but thanks to a wonderfully informative book we had in the house I knew exactly what was happening. I loved church before that. It didn't matter that everything was fucked up because there was this unconditional love from God. That vanished, and it was replaced by guilt.

I made myself forget about it. I had to while we were there. When we eventually went to live with my dad I couldn't tell him in case it upset him. I think I was worried that he'd decide he didn't want me and send me back to my mum. After a while I felt it was too late to tell him, and that he wouldn't believe me, and I didn't want to make everything unhappy again by bringing it up. I tried to forget that it ever happened, and it kind of worked. I always told myself it didn't happen, and the memories of it went away. I had big blanks in my memory, things that didn't make sense because I forgot about it. It sounds really simple to put it that way. It didn't completely go away, obviously. At night I'd hear the sound of someone walking up the stairs. made excuses for it, and my mind settled on it being a monster. I'd have strange dreams and wake up confused. I couldn't sleep unless I had the duvet wrapped tightly around me so it couldn't be pulled away. I didn't feel safe at night.

About a year ago I spent three weeks in a psychiatric ward, where I remembered it all. I think I'd started remembering before I went in, which would explain why everything hit the fan, resulting in me going into hospital in the first place. Since then I can't really stop thinking about it. The nightmares are awful. I'm woken up by them at least twice a night. I have moments when something reminds me of the experiences and for a moment it's like I'm back there again. I still hear the sound of someone coming up the stairs at night, despite my room being on the ground floor. 

I can sometimes sleep on my back without pinning the duvet under me now. That's something I guess.

Small Step in the Right Direction

Last night I ate crisps with my friends, then later my boyfriend was hungry so we had pizza and garlic bread and I didn't purge! I admit the thought did cross my mind a few times but I kept reminding myself that I want to get better.

This morning I had great fun at the jobcentre. I was excused last week because I had my university visit, but the woman didn't fill out the paperwork, so I had a man today suggesting I made it up and decided not to go along. Luckily I was sent over to a nice woman who asked me a few questions, filled out a form and then told me "there's nothing to worry about, you informed us you were going and were given permission, so it's not your fault this is happening, someone just messed up." Hopefully I'll still get my money, I need to pay back my boyfriend for the money we had to use when we got stuck in Aberdeen.

I've just had breakfast, 2 slices of toast. I feel good about eating it, and I don't feel too tempted to use it as an excuse to binge. I'm feeling positive about this.

Last night my boyfriend came over for tea. He brought me beautiful roses. I told him I had period issues so I could make myself sick after tea and again after pudding. I did the same after lunch today when he was here.

I've had my fingers down my throat countless times today. I hate myself for it. I want it to stop.

When I'm focusing on food and being hungry I don't have to think about the abuse. It's the one time when it's not there but the second I think about getting better it's right at the front of my mind again. 

I know I need to face what happened. I plan to write about it here, if I feel able to. It's such a huge part of who I am now that when I try to keep it all inside me it just shows itself in different ways, like my eating disorder, self-injury and hallucinations.

I'm going to put the age thing on my blog now too. If I'm going to write about things like that I should at least let people know it's not ideal kiddie reading.

I have a friend coming over to watch movies soon. I'll eat some snacks. Hopefully I'll keep them down.

I want out. I want to get rid of my eating disorder. I just want to eat normally and not obsess, I want to get rid of the misery and guilt surrounding food. I don't even want to be thin really. I want to be healthy. I want to be better but there's this voice in my head that just WON'T FUCKING LET ME.

Oh Dear

I need to get this worry out my system.

I'm cooking tea for my boyfriend tonight, and he's bringing pudding. The problem is I can't eat it! 

My family are away until tuesday and I want to fast until they get back. Before they left we had lunch. After they'd left I scarfed an easter egg then promptly threw up the lot. I don't want anything in my stomach. Despite the fast-food I ate in Glasgow I've lost weight. Possibly from not exercising while I was there, muscle mass loss and whatnot.

Anyway, rambling a bit. I can say I feel ill, push it around my plate. I may be able to purge, but he knows I do it so he might try to stop me. I don't know.

Pretty Sleepless Night

I had what has to be one of the worst nightmares in a long time last night.

I'm used to having memories of rape coming up in dreams, changing them into something horrible, but this was different.

In this dream I was walking up the street in broad daylight with a rather creepy man following me talking about rape. I was worried so I mentioned something to say that no matter what happened to me my family would know exactly where I was. I went to turn away from him and he asked for a goodbye kiss and I refused. He grabbed me and pushed me onto the ground where he climbed on top of me and started trying to take my trousers off. I saw people coming up the street and I screamed and waved at them. They ran up and pulled me away and I was safe.

Comparing the dream itself to my usual ones it would seem better, but it's more the meaning or message behind it that makes it so bad. Usually in dreams I can't scream. I open my mouth and nothing comes out. This time I could. I asked for help and I was saved. It's reinforcing the thought that when these things were happening to me I didn't ask for help. I couldn't, it wasn't possible, but I still blame myself for it continuing. I keep asking myself "why didn't I tell someone?". I know the answer but it never justifies it enough. 

When I woke up I was terrified. It hit me how vulnerable I felt and how vulnerable I am. The fear of it happening again is always there in the back of my mind. I'm so scared when I'm out alone at night and there are men near me. Even during the day if there aren't many other people around. The memories have such a huge impact on my life and this dream showed me just how much they effect me.

A Defence of my Defences

I have a habit of becoming fiercely protective of the things I love. While this isn't unusual in itself, my huge outbursts of rage when people criticise a musician, film, or even pokemon I love stretch slightly out of the boundaries of "normality". While I can't explain this to everyone in my life, I can explain it here, and the purpose of this blog is for things like this. I'd like to apologise in advance for the tone of this entry. One of my oldest self-defence mechanisms is springing up at the thought of writing this. Good old sarcasm and bitchiness. 

It is in no way simple to deal with issues such as sexual abuse, self injury, mood disorders, eating disorders and any other kind of disorder you may care to mention. The biggest problem for me is the stigma that comes with them. Society looks down on you and expects you to be ashamed, and all the pressure and expectations piled on top of you eventually force you to feel the shame that they want, so you hide things, never tell anyone how you feel. But sometimes you just can't bottle it up, and you have to mention these things, to somehow give the world a glimpse of what you're feeling before you explode. That's where humour comes in handy.

I make fun of my problems. I laugh about them. If they're particularly bad then I mock the drama that can accompany them. I turn myself into this complete joke. It works to an extent though. It releases the pressure. It also leaves the problem of where to redirect the energy building up inside that desperately wants to backtrack and protect your ego. With me, it finds its place defending seemingly insignificant things.

Some of them have a deeper meaning though. Take my love of Emilie Autumn. She's managed to become this amazing, successful person despite her undoubtedly ongoing battles with mental health issues. In her I see hope, and she makes me feel a little less ashamed. It's hard to explain. I'm sure a lot of fellow EA fans will understand. It's because of this that I became furious at me boyfriend the other day. I was checking twitter and she'd "tweeted" something along the lines of "I can't wait to be back on the stage". His response was "attention whore much?". In that moment I immediately stitched my situation onto the framework provided by her and her life and situation and what emerged was a personal response, as if he had insulted me. 

This happens a lot, and I don't like it, but until both myself and those around me can become comfortable with my mind it's all I have.

Home Again

Glasgow was good fun, I'm definitely moving there in september. 

It felt a lot like I was babysitting my boyfriend though. I had to bully him into getting anything done which made me feel awful. We got stranded overnight in Aberdeen so I was incredibly stressed, and yesterday morning when our train was cancelled again all my anger at him came out. We're not unhappy with each other at the moment, he accepts that he made things difficult for me.

I managed to eat fine while I was gone. I was able to choose what I wanted so I had control, plus I had to make sure that mt boyfriend was eating ok. 

I'd like to write more but I've not been smoking today and I can hardly think. My boyfriend really wants me to stop and sometimes goes on a bit. I may actually go and buy more cigarettes shortly. I have applications and things to do but I just can't think. 

Glasgow

Tomorrow I'm going to Glasgow for two nights. I shall undoubtedly have plenty to write about when I get back. I'm very nervous but excited at the same time.

Boyfriend Bother and the European Market

Last night my boyfriend was getting really worked up. He says I've lost too much weight. I reassured him that I've only lost a couple of pounds recently but he pointed out that as I've been exercising I've been building up muscle. He knows most things about my eating problems, but he doesn't understand how alone it makes me feel. I know he's there for me but he can't relate to the conflict that goes on in my head every second of every day. He quite often only eats one meal a day as well, so when he says there's something wrong with me I have to fight the urge to call him a hypocrite.

We're going to Glasgow together on Monday. I have a university applicant's day and he's coming with me. We're staying 2 nights in a hotel. I know that food will be a huge issue while we're there. He won't try to make me eat, he knows that it just won't help, but he'll get really upset over it. He'll blame himself and I don't want that. I can't wait to have a couple days where I have complete control over what I eat but I'm worried it'll turn into one huge binge.

That said, the European Market was in town today. It has all kind of fancy sweets, and pastry stalls and paella and different kinds of cake. It all smells delicious. I was up town with my boyfriend and was worried I wouldn't be able to resist, normally I'd dive in headfirst into the calorie-laden deliciousness, but I was fine. Because it's the weekend and my family are around I'd had to have lunch before heading out, so that probably helped. 

Right now I'm sitting drinking chai tea. One teaspoon of sugar in it, but I'm trying not to think of that.

Fat

My boyfriend's noticed I've lost more weight. He doesn't know what to say about my eating problems so when I mentioned I was happy that I'm thinner he said "it's pretty cool". I know that's not what he's really thinking but it sticks in my mind and motivates me.

I spent a while earlier looking an eating disorder help stuff, and articles on people being too thin. Usually this would be enough to change my eating habits, at least temporarily until it reverts back to bingeing and purging. It did nothing to me. I'm stronger than I have been before.

I don't want to be ill. I don't want to lose my hourglass figure. I don't want to let this tear me apart again.

But I want to be thin, and somehow that's all that matters.

Belly Full of Water

So, after eating breakfast this morning and promptly throwing it up I've decided to take a new approach to my eating problems; I'm not eating if I can help it. I know this is just as bad but right now the binges and purges are causing a lot of problems and making me feel like crap.

Despite being without-a-doubt depressed again I've had a relatively productive day. I phoned up a number to apply for work only to find the jobcentre had kindly given me the number of a person who has nothing to do with work in my area, so I got another number to call. I did so and left a message, and within five minutes he called back and asked me to send him my CV, which I've done. I feel good about it. 

I'm now off to email the module leader from college (I just do the one module) and ask him about something, while my confidence is up a bit.

Hallucinations

They're coming back again. At least three times in the past 7 days I've heard people screaming. Usually it's young women or girls, just now it was a baby. I say at least because I don't know if some of the times I had actually been hearing someone. At least I know they're not real, but I have to run around and ask people if someone was screaming or crying on the tv or radio.

A Bit Confused

I think I was just tired/slightly hungover yesterday, because within an hour of writing my last post I was up and racing again. Bright, cheerful, and very energetic. The monologue narrating my life kicked in again when I was watching the concert, making sure I was never bored or mentally inactive. 

I've already written and submitted 2 job applications today. Usually it takes a day to properly complete one but I'm on a roll here. I feel incredibly hungry but I don't have an appetite, a will to go and eat.  I have other things to do. I've been smoking a lot too, which is crap because I want to stop. I'll have to contact the stop smoking nhs thing soon, but I should also speak to the psychiatrist and psychologist about how it will affect my stress levels and anxiety etc. 

There are people in fitting lights and stuff which doesn't really bother me, as it usually would, and I'm tempted to talk to them but they're up ladders and stuff and wouldn't want them to fall.

I'm typing too fast and my mind is whirring at a very high speed so I ought to try to calm down.

Very Tired and Moody

As it turned out, there was no sex last night. I did, however, discover my boyfriend has a bit of a fetish for being bitten. Not too hard mind.

My jobcentre interview was rather boring. They didn't want any of the mountain of crap I'd printed out. I have to go in weekly now, but because I'm in Glasgow next week it's to start as of the 6th of April. I've to remind people when I go to sign on tomorrow. 

I've been shattered since my pizza and tv binge last night, and despite not having much of an appetite it seemed appropriate to eat a lot today. It wasn't quite a binge eat, but the volume of food consumed was that of a bingeing episode. Oh fun.

I'm going to a primary school concert tonight, to see my sister sing. It's going to be awful, but my parents are paying the entry fee and at least this can be filed under "family devotion", ready to pull out when the parental bitching next commences. 

Sorry for the general attitude of this post, like I said I'm very moody. That and my mood's gone back down again and I really cannot be arsed with anything. If I don't moan and bitch so much it'll just get internalised and we all know how wonderfully well that works out. 

Anyway, off for dinner. I still have a horrible furry feel to my mouth after eating lots of sweets, so it'll be a thoroughly unpleasant experience. After that I'm going to sit through about 2 hours of whiny children singing. No wonder I'm suicidal at times. 

Nervous

I'm really nervous, as my post title will tell you. Tomorrow I have a jobcentre interview. Because nobody has hired me since I've started receiving jobseeker's allowance they want me to go along and prove I'm looking for work. I already go in every 2 weeks and they take details of what I've done from my jobsearch diary, I'd assumed that they checked up on those but I'm guessing not now. I've been printing off every application letter I have saved and I'm taking my interview and rejection letters from the vets. I'm hoping it'll be enough.

I'm staying over at my boyfriend's tonight, which I'm really happy about. We're going to get pizza and beer, watch tv, do the obvious and snuggle up. I really love him. He's so supportive of everything that goes on with me. He's not happy about it, and I know he worries, but he's there for me if I ever need someone. 

I'm still nervous about the appointment I'm having set up so my parents can speak to the psychiatrist. There's a fairly big chance my dad won't be able to make it, and if he can't then my stepmum says she won't go. I can understand why she'd feel uncomfortable, but she adopted my sisters and me, she can't just pick and choose when she wants to be a parent now. It's her responsibility to be there for me, even if I'm legally an adult and she doesn't like what I'm asking her to get involved in. She can't play the "I'm not really your parent" card now, because legally she is. I know I'm maybe overreacting a bit, but I don't want a part-time parent. 

Medication

The psychiatrist said that because I haven't had a manic episode lasting more than 2 weeks I can't be given a diagnosis of bipolar, however I am being prescribed medication, probably Valproate. She also hinted at a personality disorder. Before I get the prescription she wants to meet with my parents, which I know is for the best but it won't go down well. She did stress that if necessary she could prescribe without my parent's consent or even knowledge as I'm 18, but I hope it won't come to that.

I feel happy that we're making progress, and that I've finally got someone who can help on my side.

Hospital Thoughts

I'm convinced I binge ate today even though I didn't, I just feel so fat and unworthy of wearing anything other than a potato sack. The insecurity and food paranoia have made an impressive comeback over the weekend. I've put on 7 pounds in the past couple of weeks though, I need to fix that.

Last night I was speaking about my stay in a psych ward with a friend who's girlfriend was in a similar place, and my boyfriend who's grandad died there. They play God there, I generally refuse to speak about what really went on but I was tipsy and for once I had someone who wouldn't dismiss it as bullshit. I've had 2 panic attacks since then, it's completely set me on edge and brought the experience back. I suppose it's good to talk about it and not bottle it up, but it doesn't change the fact that I still feel sick and shaky when I think about it.

I was told that there was nothing wrong with me and that I was faking one day, the next I was told I was very sick and would never leave. They tried to convince me nobody would come in to see me, that nobody wanted to see me, and that I did not deserve to have people visit. The second sexual abuse was put down in my file they had a whale of a time. That's only a brief mention, I can't go into the worse stuff. Maybe one day.

I'm always scared I'll be sent back. No matter how good things in general were, I would sooner kill myself than go back, and that's no exaggeration. You don't come out the same person. I was so luck that I had my boyfriend. Without him it would have been easier for the nurses to break me and make me believe what they were saying. 

I just keep recalling how one woman was desperate to contact her family, her solicitor and her psychiatrist. The nurses would have her call taxi ranks and shops and convince her she'd phoned the right people and imagined it differently. The memory of their laughter as she stood sobbing by the phone twists my stomach.

Sunday

I saw Alice in Wonderland last night. It was really great, I'm tempted to go and see it again. I also had an amazing peking duck pizza at mine and my boyfriend's usual haunt, so it was a brilliant night. 

I'm just annoyed that I feel so guilty over anything I eat. I want to eat normally and be happy about it, but my mind doesn't seem to want to let me. 

What my parents said about there being nothing wrong with me keeps repeating itself in my head. I know that if I listen to it and try to pretend everything's fine it'll only get worse, like it has done in the past. Still, it makes me feel really childish for wanting to get help, which just isn't right. 

Progress

I saw the psychiatrist yesterday. I was very nervous but she was really nice. I explained how I was feeling about my mood swings and whatnot and she agreed that although they change very fast, it does sound like bipolar. It was a relief to hear that, even though being told there's something wrong like that is never too great, because the more I can understand what the problem is the more I can do towards fixing it. I know it doesn't make sense, so I'll try to use an analogy. It's like someone wanted you to draw this strange, abstract picture, and didn't tell you anything about what it was supposed to look like. Yet they expected you to draw what they pictured in their mind. Me being told what the problem is with me is like that person giving you clues as to what the picture should look like. 

I told my parents what all happened, and they took their usual "you're a silly girl making a fuss over nothing" approach. I was given a lecture on how everyone's mood goes up and down but not everyone gets labelled bipolar. Then my stepmum started saying I had to get my blood tested for bipolar disorder chemicals or something. I was thoroughly confused. They're never supportive when it comes to stuff like this. I think they're just worried and think that by constantly denying there's a problem they can make it not exist. It doesn't help me though. It makes things so much harder for me. I wish I could put them in my mind for a moment and let them feel what it is I go through. To finally have the courage to tell them something's wrong only to have it dismissed as attention-seeking really hurts.

Still, the good news is that I'm seeing the psychiatrist next week, and by then she'll have had a look over my file and have a better idea how to help. Also she's going to find out a bit of information about my stay in a psych ward, so that I can be told what the grounds were for my admission, what was actually wrong with me, and why they thought it went away. It feels really nice now, knowing that there's someone who's trying something different and is working to help me. Despite my horribly low mood I feel that there's a chance for me to sort things out now.

Losing Grip

Things have gotten so much worse. The only thing stopping me killing myself is how much it would hurt my family and boyfriend.

As it is I'm already trying to make sure my boyfriend has something else to help him cope with things in case I do. I'm not sure if this is me trying to help him or just me trying to find a way to do it. 

I'm so scared it's not going to matter though. Plans are going through my head of how to make it look accidental. If the psychiatrist can't help me on Thursday I don't know what I'll do. 

Failing

I binged and purged this morning. I went to the supermarket with the intention of just buying something decent for breakfast and came home and stuffed my face with pasta and pizza. I didn't chew properly or drink enough with it, so now after purging my throat is very sore. The worst part is I don't really regret it.

I have some diet pills that are meant to be arriving soon. I hope they hurry up because they cut appetite and they could prevent more binges. It's not weight loss I want, I just don't want to gain weight. The thought terrifies me. 

I have to cancel my appointment with the psychologist tomorrow to go to my job interview, but I still have the psychiatrist on thursday, to talk about how I was on sleep medication for a while. I'm considering mentioning my mood swings, as nothing happens with the psychologist. I don't think I'll mention the eating problems though. The last thing I need is them jumping to the conclusion I have an eating disorder again.

Sad

I'm feeling miserable again. Very tired, unmotivated, and unable to enjoy anything. I'm just sitting waiting for the time to pass. I'm looking forward to dinner, because it'll mark the end of the day and start of the evening, proving the day is going by. 

When I see the psychiatrist about my sleep review thing I'm going to have to mention my mood changes to her. I can't cope with it much longer, it drains me so much, I'm never truly happy.

Whoring and Confidence

I'm feeling a lot better about my body now. I know it's probably only temporary but I'll enjoy it while it lasts. Today I went out in shorts and tights, and with my long jacket over it I looked like a gothed-up kerb crawler. I didn't mind. I have a dress to wear to a small party tonight. I'll be a bit dressed up but I love it.

I think my mood's going down again. My mind isn't racing so much and I don't have the general euphoric feeling, plus my anxiety levels are rising. At least I should be able to have a good night tonight before I come crashing down, and if it starts happening earlier than expected there is a great deal of alcohol that will help me feel better.

Better day

Today has gone well. I decided that I needed to eat breakfast in order to reduce the urge to binge later, so I made cinnamon French toast. It was delicious, and filled me up enough that I didn't feel bad for eating it because I didn't feel hungry for hours after. I only had time for a cup-a-soup before college, but when I got back I had some smoked sausage to use. I thought I should eat something having only had the soup at 11.30, so I fried it with spices and veg and rice. It was so good.

I'm feeling really optimistic about getting better. 

Thinking Straight

I do want to get better, so I've decided what it is I'm going to start with.

The first thing I need to do is stop the food diary. No matter how little I write down, I feel guilty. From now on it's not happening. One of the advantages of it was if I was thinking I ate far too much I could reassure myself that it wasn't so bad by having this concrete list, but I'll just have to man up and survive.

Secondly I'm going to stop the self-harm. Easier said than done, but it's only a matter of time before it escalates. I already have some massive, disgusting scars on my arm and giving myself matching ones on my thigh will not help my body image.

Thirdly, I need to weigh myself less. I'll start by restricting myself to once a day, in the evening.

I found out earlier that I have a job interview next week. If I get this job it'll help a lot. It's only part-time but I need more structure to my day. Plus the interview is for a job I'd love to have. 

I'm hoping the next couple of days go well with this, if they do then I'm going to try to take a bit more control over my general eating habits, but if I try  to do it now it'll end badly. I'm praying this goes well. 

And Again

I want it to stop. I want all of this to stop but I can't make it. What's really a way for me to take control has taken complete control of me. Every day I wake up and think "today I won't do it, I'll eat normally and it'll be fine", but before I know it I'm in the bathroom desperately emptying my stomach of whatever tiny amount of food I've eaten. Every night I decide that I won't cut myself, no matter how much or how little I've eaten, but I always end up painting lines in my food diary with my blood. 

I'm not unhappy with my body, I don't want to be insanely thin, but I can't be happy until I've lost weight. But even then I'll think I need to lose more. I'm not an unhappy person, I have a pretty good life, but I make myself unhappy by doing this. 

I want to stop, I just don't know how to stop myself. 

Beginning

So this is the start to my new blog, where I hope to write about things I'm too scared to mention in case people find out. It seems almost appropriate that I'm in pain for this, because it gives a bit of a jumping point for me to mention a couple of these things.

My stomach hurts and I feel nauseous. I'd already really damaged my throat by making myself sick and today, not for the first time, the pain has spread to my stomach. I'm trying to eat as little as I can but I binge ate earlier after finding out that my boyfriend doesn't trust me and read through my phone. It's not really a big deal but I'm a bit shaken by it. I find it incredibly hard to trust people, especially men, so I'm worried about what else he may or may not have been doing. I worry that he's trying to find things to pick fights with me about. I worry he's just using me. I always end up trying to somehow connect any male to the men who raped me, even the guy who I love. It's fear, I guess.

My leg hurts from cutting it. I used to cut myself all the time when I was upset or angry. I've since learned not to immediately take things out on myself if I'm not to blame, but it's left me with some horrible scars, especially on my arms. I wont be able to wear short sleeves in public for years, I think. After a horrible stay in a psych ward I more or less stopped for a while, but I've since started again as a way to punish myself for eating what I deem to be "too much". In truth this can be just the one meal a day I'm forced to eat, but because I have things like my binges I need to have a system where the more I eat the more/deeper the cuts I have to give myself.

Then there's the grotesque part; even I find this horrible and silly but I do it all the same. In my food diary if I eat too much I have to put a line of my blood on the page. Yesterday I pigged out and couldn't bring myself to purge, so most of the page got covered. Today will be similar, although I purged after my binge.

I just want to make this clear from the start: I know that losing weight isn't going to fix all of my problems. I know it's a self-esteem thing, and that it's one of the many ways in which my mind looks for a crutch so I can cope with my past. I know it's not healthy. The reason I can't stop is because sometimes it's the only thing I have left to hold on to. It's the only real, concrete thing in my mind. I'm not in any way trying to encourage others. It's the opposite, I don't want anyone else to be in the same position where this kind of behaviour seems acceptable. This isn't a promotion, it's an outlet.