Okay so I did my usual thing of not posting for a while, and I've noticed that I've avoided that topic of food for a very long time, and now I have a good reason to post an update on this.
In general, my eating has been okay-ish. I still binge occasionally, but I've managed not to make myself sick, thankfully. I do get really paranoid over how much I eat, and I often feel like a whale despite eating what I know is the right amount for my age and height. It's a work in progress, I know that.
For quite a while I've been wanting to get over my last food phobia. For years now I have refused to drink milk, or add it to anything I eat or drink. Since moving, I have only ever had soya milk and if anyone asks I say I'm lactose intolerant. The thought of buying milk filled me with so much actual fear that I've even bought cream to use in cooking instead of it. That's crazy. It has much more fat in it, but I just couldn't let myself bring milk into the flat.
As this is the last "big thing" in terms of my eating disorder, I decided I'd work through it. I knew I wasn't going to be bringing it in and drinking it by the gallon, so I bought one of those packet cheese sauces to make. I decided to do this about a month ago, but it was only on Wednesday (the 23rd) that I decided I would buy a pint of milk on the way back from my lectures. Just a pint, so there's not much.
I spent the entire day thinking about it getting more and more anxious. I didn't focus on my lectures at all. I went into Tesco and had to force myself to not think about it or else I would have turned around and walked out. It took all of my self-control not to leave while I was waiting in the queue, but I made myself buy it. The whole walk back I felt the bag burning in my hand and wanted rid of it, but I got it back to the flat.
Actually making the sauce was okay I suppose. I had the expected panic over how much milk I was putting into the pan, but a slight cooking disaster (it started turning into dough on the bottom of the pan!) distracted me from it, and I ended up with a very small bowl of pasta in slightly lumpy cheese sauce (I'm a great cook, but packet things seem to be my downfall). I sat at my desk making every excuse not to eat it but I did it. And I'm happy. It feels a bit like a weight has been lifted from me. I feel like I'm allowed milk now. I'm able to have it in my chai tea or other drinks, which I have missed. More than anything I feel a kind of pride that I've finally overcome the food phobia that has been most noticeable for years.
I know how stupid a fear of milk sounds, but I know that anyone who has an eating disorder will understand this. I wish I could talk about this with the very few people who know about my eating disorder, but it will be belittled a bit. I feel good about this. It's like a sign of my refusal to give in to the disorder again. A test of my strength that I succeeded.
So, I have finally finished the two horrible difficult and important essays. I just have one more at the start of next month to work on, thich won't be as bad. I should feel less stressed but I can't.
Every hour I think about how things won't work out with my boyfriend or how I should kill myself. I'm scared I'll do something, so I'm trying to keep busy.
I don't really want to continue this update. Another day.
Every hour I think about how things won't work out with my boyfriend or how I should kill myself. I'm scared I'll do something, so I'm trying to keep busy.
I don't really want to continue this update. Another day.
Stupid
This will probably sound stupid, but I've tried getting in touch with people to talk to and there isn't anyone to help just now. I'm not sure if calling the crisis team or hospital might be an idea, but I'll leave that for now. Anyway, bear with me and I'll try to explain this ridiculous situation.
I decided to watch Shameless, because it's one of my favourite shows, and in it this week this girl talks about how when she was 10 her mum would rent her out and she'd be filmed, before killing herself. Now, take out the filming part and knock 2 years off the age and it's what happened to me. Normally this would shake me a bit and I'd have a weep and then be okay, but my mum was emailing me over the weekend. She says her computer is broken which is why I haven't heard from her since November.
I mentioned the sexual abuse therapy I've been referred to in my last email and she jumped on it, said she had no idea what happened. I really wish I could believe her, and I tried to, but it was so obvious that she arranged it herself. I don't know, a combination of these 2 little things has left me feeling kind of hollow and sad. I wanted to hurt myself, to maybe even kill myself, at the very least to binge eat, throw up then cry until my eyes ached, but I can't. I just can't react.
After my ex attacking me maybe I've just had enough. There's only so much I can take, you know? I'm sure I'll be back to my usual miserable ways soon enough, but right now I just feel this huge void where all of my urges should be.
It would be nice if I could forget everything that happened, or even just forgive my mum and have a relationship with her, but that can't happen. What happened in my past actually took place, and instead of running away from it maybe it's about time I accepted it and allowed myself to resent it and the people involved. I'm allowed to reject my mum now, and I'm perfectly entitled to after what she put me through. I know it's tempting to smile and try to get on with her and my ex now as best as I can, but actually, I'm a person. I have feelings, and I don't have to try to make things perfect for everyone all of the time. I'm able to just think of myself, and sometimes I need to. This is one of those times.
I think I kind of need someone to call me or sit with me for tonight, but even if I am alone I refuse to hurt myself when it is other people who deserve the pain. Even if it's just for one night, I will not allow myself to take it out on my own body.
I decided to watch Shameless, because it's one of my favourite shows, and in it this week this girl talks about how when she was 10 her mum would rent her out and she'd be filmed, before killing herself. Now, take out the filming part and knock 2 years off the age and it's what happened to me. Normally this would shake me a bit and I'd have a weep and then be okay, but my mum was emailing me over the weekend. She says her computer is broken which is why I haven't heard from her since November.
I mentioned the sexual abuse therapy I've been referred to in my last email and she jumped on it, said she had no idea what happened. I really wish I could believe her, and I tried to, but it was so obvious that she arranged it herself. I don't know, a combination of these 2 little things has left me feeling kind of hollow and sad. I wanted to hurt myself, to maybe even kill myself, at the very least to binge eat, throw up then cry until my eyes ached, but I can't. I just can't react.
After my ex attacking me maybe I've just had enough. There's only so much I can take, you know? I'm sure I'll be back to my usual miserable ways soon enough, but right now I just feel this huge void where all of my urges should be.
It would be nice if I could forget everything that happened, or even just forgive my mum and have a relationship with her, but that can't happen. What happened in my past actually took place, and instead of running away from it maybe it's about time I accepted it and allowed myself to resent it and the people involved. I'm allowed to reject my mum now, and I'm perfectly entitled to after what she put me through. I know it's tempting to smile and try to get on with her and my ex now as best as I can, but actually, I'm a person. I have feelings, and I don't have to try to make things perfect for everyone all of the time. I'm able to just think of myself, and sometimes I need to. This is one of those times.
I think I kind of need someone to call me or sit with me for tonight, but even if I am alone I refuse to hurt myself when it is other people who deserve the pain. Even if it's just for one night, I will not allow myself to take it out on my own body.
A Letter I'll Never Send You
You cunt. There is no other word for you. You complete and utter cunt. Of course, you'd love to be called names so you could carry on and play the victim and feel sorry for you but I will NOT have that.
You KNEW what happened in my past and yet you chose to take advantage of me, possibly worse. Hell did you rape me? I don't even know if that matters to be honest, the fact it was you has messed me up. I trusted you and I LOVED you at one point and you (most likely) spiked my drink and (certainly) decided to get a good grope in while I was unable to move and used my hand to try to jack yourself off. Really classy you bastard. You picked me up like a fucking ragdoll and tried to undo my skirt, but you're still the same stupid fuck you used to be and couldn't figure out how to work the button.
I'm well aware that in the eyes of the law you'll get off with this. You told the police it was consensual, so DNA evidence means nothing, and they didn't take a blood sample so they will most likley not pick up what was in my drink. Wonderful Scottish law means that at least 2 people have to say somehting happened, and funnily enough you didn't do this in a crowded room.
I have a friend helping me though. Nothing illegal of course, just checking if people in your jobs (your "political" one as well as the one in the school) know what you did. And if that doesn't work, hell even if it does, I will see you suffer. I know you have a conscience buried beneath your folds of fat somewhere, and God help you when I drag it out. You will pay.
I will not let you get away with this. You have taken so much from me, and I will take it back, one way or another.
You KNEW what happened in my past and yet you chose to take advantage of me, possibly worse. Hell did you rape me? I don't even know if that matters to be honest, the fact it was you has messed me up. I trusted you and I LOVED you at one point and you (most likely) spiked my drink and (certainly) decided to get a good grope in while I was unable to move and used my hand to try to jack yourself off. Really classy you bastard. You picked me up like a fucking ragdoll and tried to undo my skirt, but you're still the same stupid fuck you used to be and couldn't figure out how to work the button.
I'm well aware that in the eyes of the law you'll get off with this. You told the police it was consensual, so DNA evidence means nothing, and they didn't take a blood sample so they will most likley not pick up what was in my drink. Wonderful Scottish law means that at least 2 people have to say somehting happened, and funnily enough you didn't do this in a crowded room.
I have a friend helping me though. Nothing illegal of course, just checking if people in your jobs (your "political" one as well as the one in the school) know what you did. And if that doesn't work, hell even if it does, I will see you suffer. I know you have a conscience buried beneath your folds of fat somewhere, and God help you when I drag it out. You will pay.
I will not let you get away with this. You have taken so much from me, and I will take it back, one way or another.
You know that feeling you get, where you're perfectly content for the time being but know you will hurt yourself soon? Well, maybe you don't, but I do, so despite the fact I am so behind with work I'm going to go to my boyfriend's in a bit. I don't trust myself alone tonight. I was already going to cut (there isn't even a fucking reason why) but managed to stop myself.
Oh dear, so many days have passed. Ten since my last update. I have lots to tell, but it's not for now. I'll likely forget before I get a chance to update. I don't know. Right now all I want to do is hack up the smooth parts of my arms. They're too smooth. I want the cuts and the release. I haven't cut my arms in years. It's only my thighs; that way I can wear short sleeves.
It would be beautiful if I did my arms, but I'd have to deal with the consequences of it.
Oh dear, so many days have passed. Ten since my last update. I have lots to tell, but it's not for now. I'll likely forget before I get a chance to update. I don't know. Right now all I want to do is hack up the smooth parts of my arms. They're too smooth. I want the cuts and the release. I haven't cut my arms in years. It's only my thighs; that way I can wear short sleeves.
It would be beautiful if I did my arms, but I'd have to deal with the consequences of it.
The sexual assault by my ex.
I just can't cope with it.
When the police tell me they can't press charges or anything I don't know what I'll do.
I don't want to wake up tomorrow. I need it all to go away. He knew about the abuse in my past and still did it, then told the police it was consensual. I can't get accept it.
I don't want to have to deal with this. I want to go to sleep and never have to wake up to it.
I just can't cope with it.
When the police tell me they can't press charges or anything I don't know what I'll do.
I don't want to wake up tomorrow. I need it all to go away. He knew about the abuse in my past and still did it, then told the police it was consensual. I can't get accept it.
I don't want to have to deal with this. I want to go to sleep and never have to wake up to it.
My Mother's Daughter
I was at a party last night, and it was so much fun. I drank a lot and chatted to everyone. Then we smoked weed and I had to be carried back to my flat where I KOd. That wasn't good.
I spent all of today in bed, watching things and pottering about online. I should have been relaxed
but now I'm stressed again. I keep thinking about my mum.
Part of me wants to see her. There's this huge space in my life and mind where a mother should be, and despite what he used me for I kind of want a relationship with her. But then I don't. I hate her. It makes me so angry that she has her own lovely happy life after what she put me and my sisters through. She doesn't deserve it. I don't get that. I get to be a complete mental and emotional fuck up. She has recovered and is doing well for herself. I can push the thought out of my head, but if my sisters start showing signs of things I will go out of my way to tear her perfect little world apart.
I hate it. I really hate it. I want to push the sadness out of my head and forget about my past but I can't. It's there, like a weight on my mind constantly, and every day I have to struggle to balance every little thing in my life to make sure I don't have a breakdown and even then it doesn't always work. The weight is too much. I need some kind of relief.
I spent all of today in bed, watching things and pottering about online. I should have been relaxed
but now I'm stressed again. I keep thinking about my mum.
Part of me wants to see her. There's this huge space in my life and mind where a mother should be, and despite what he used me for I kind of want a relationship with her. But then I don't. I hate her. It makes me so angry that she has her own lovely happy life after what she put me and my sisters through. She doesn't deserve it. I don't get that. I get to be a complete mental and emotional fuck up. She has recovered and is doing well for herself. I can push the thought out of my head, but if my sisters start showing signs of things I will go out of my way to tear her perfect little world apart.
I hate it. I really hate it. I want to push the sadness out of my head and forget about my past but I can't. It's there, like a weight on my mind constantly, and every day I have to struggle to balance every little thing in my life to make sure I don't have a breakdown and even then it doesn't always work. The weight is too much. I need some kind of relief.
Laundry Day
I never understand why doing my laundry makes me so anxious. I think it's because I have to set aside a two hour chunk of time and it's always really hard to get a machine, unless you're up really early in the morning, meaning that you can't go to early lectures. Anyway, it's done, so I can relax for a few days until I need to wash towels and stuff.
So, the diazepam seems to be helping. I have slept okay, not great but not awfully, for two nights. I'm starting to see things a little more clearly, and to be honest I'm not sure if I want to.
I've realised that while I love my boyfriend, I'm not entirely happy with him. This is nothing new with me but there is a difference, which I will come to. He is never affectionate. Nobody seeing us together would guess that we are a couple. The only time he does things like hug me and be sweet like that is when he's wanting sex. He also never likes talking about things to do with me. He will sometimes listen while I talk, but whenever he is speaking it's about either our courses or something to do with people within his circle of friends. He never comes out with my friends. He came to the LGBT lunch once with me, for half an hour, because he acknowledges that he never makes an effort, but he seems to think that that is all he ever has to do. That one lunch.
The difference. I don't want to look for affection elsewhere. I am desperate to feel loved, cared about and wanted, but only by him. Normally this is when I'd start to look for someone else but I can't. I just want him, but at the same time I want more than him. I feel trapped.
He has gone home for the weekend. I'll talk to him when he gets back.
So, the diazepam seems to be helping. I have slept okay, not great but not awfully, for two nights. I'm starting to see things a little more clearly, and to be honest I'm not sure if I want to.
I've realised that while I love my boyfriend, I'm not entirely happy with him. This is nothing new with me but there is a difference, which I will come to. He is never affectionate. Nobody seeing us together would guess that we are a couple. The only time he does things like hug me and be sweet like that is when he's wanting sex. He also never likes talking about things to do with me. He will sometimes listen while I talk, but whenever he is speaking it's about either our courses or something to do with people within his circle of friends. He never comes out with my friends. He came to the LGBT lunch once with me, for half an hour, because he acknowledges that he never makes an effort, but he seems to think that that is all he ever has to do. That one lunch.
The difference. I don't want to look for affection elsewhere. I am desperate to feel loved, cared about and wanted, but only by him. Normally this is when I'd start to look for someone else but I can't. I just want him, but at the same time I want more than him. I feel trapped.
He has gone home for the weekend. I'll talk to him when he gets back.
Eh
Wow. Bad times.
I went mental. Crazy fucking mental and was going to kill myself, but my boyfriend came over and stayed with me. The night before last. I went to the doctor today and she came me diazepam to help me sleep, so I can get things under control.
I think things are fucked with the boyfriend though.
Goddamn.
Someone else? I don't want anyone else, that's the problem. I could have someone else, but I want him. Just not him as he is now. I need a little bit more. Affection. Closeness. I doubt I will get it from him.
That's all I want to say now. I'm trying not to feel shit.
I went mental. Crazy fucking mental and was going to kill myself, but my boyfriend came over and stayed with me. The night before last. I went to the doctor today and she came me diazepam to help me sleep, so I can get things under control.
I think things are fucked with the boyfriend though.
Goddamn.
Someone else? I don't want anyone else, that's the problem. I could have someone else, but I want him. Just not him as he is now. I need a little bit more. Affection. Closeness. I doubt I will get it from him.
That's all I want to say now. I'm trying not to feel shit.
Awake
I lay in bed, in the dark, and felt something tough and bruised in front of my stomach. I felt it crawl up my body and into my mind, where my brain told me "you are feeling pain". It crawled back down to my stomach, with little tendrils drifting off into my back, my ankles and deep into my forehead where a headache has been throbbing for hours.
Today has been a day of exhaustion. I slept very little last night, not really less than usual, but I hadn't been able to really rest over the weekend, so it came down on me like a cloud, and it has been pressing in on me all day. I have been stressed, yet I finished the essay I have to hand in tomorrow, and at the moment I am fine. Tomorrow I shall do the reading for Wednesday. Tomorrow shall be quite relaxed. I just need to get up earlier so I can print out the essay.
As always, little chips of panic are dropping into my head. The library could be busy and I won't be able to print it out in time. I'll have to get up really early. I'm not going to get enough sleep. Tomorrow will be horrible. It's all pressing in; it's being channeled through the pressure on my forehead.
I know it will be okay.
I am quite cold now, and I feel hungry, but it's really just the empty. It is back. I thought it was hunger so I ate. I thought it was thirst so I drank. It took me a while to realise it's the gnawing depth that won't let itself be satisfied. I should have realised when I had my crying fit yesterday.
I could crawl back into bed and lie awake for a couple of hours. I always hate going to bed. Sleep just won't come to me, and it makes me feel strangely frustrated and sad at the same time. Then I wake up through the night, before waking about an hour or so before my alarm is due to go off. No matter what time it is set at, I always wake early, and only doze off again just a few minutes before it goes off. This morning I should have slept until it rang; I was supposed to get up roughly two and a half hours earlier than usual. This is my new Monday. Unfortunately I was awake at six.
I think I will distract myself. I could make noodle soup and find something to watch online.
I could worry about the calories in the soup, but fuck that.
Today has been a day of exhaustion. I slept very little last night, not really less than usual, but I hadn't been able to really rest over the weekend, so it came down on me like a cloud, and it has been pressing in on me all day. I have been stressed, yet I finished the essay I have to hand in tomorrow, and at the moment I am fine. Tomorrow I shall do the reading for Wednesday. Tomorrow shall be quite relaxed. I just need to get up earlier so I can print out the essay.
As always, little chips of panic are dropping into my head. The library could be busy and I won't be able to print it out in time. I'll have to get up really early. I'm not going to get enough sleep. Tomorrow will be horrible. It's all pressing in; it's being channeled through the pressure on my forehead.
I know it will be okay.
I am quite cold now, and I feel hungry, but it's really just the empty. It is back. I thought it was hunger so I ate. I thought it was thirst so I drank. It took me a while to realise it's the gnawing depth that won't let itself be satisfied. I should have realised when I had my crying fit yesterday.
I could crawl back into bed and lie awake for a couple of hours. I always hate going to bed. Sleep just won't come to me, and it makes me feel strangely frustrated and sad at the same time. Then I wake up through the night, before waking about an hour or so before my alarm is due to go off. No matter what time it is set at, I always wake early, and only doze off again just a few minutes before it goes off. This morning I should have slept until it rang; I was supposed to get up roughly two and a half hours earlier than usual. This is my new Monday. Unfortunately I was awake at six.
I think I will distract myself. I could make noodle soup and find something to watch online.
I could worry about the calories in the soup, but fuck that.
Thank You For Your Pity
And I feel it creeping back.
The periods of derealisation are cropping up from time to time, and the overwhelming feeling of emptiness is falling back into place. Sudden bursts of sadness and crying, impossible to overcome. Oh God.
I am so worried. My boyfriend will have noticed and I don't want to scare him off. I am afraid that I will fall back into bad eating habits or self-harm. I am going to try to keep a hold on things, to stop them spinning out of control until I get an appointment at the sexual assault/psychology place.
I got a letter saying I'm at the top of the waiting list, so I should get an appointment soon.
Talking of waiting lists, I'm at the top of the list to get my light fixed. It has been broken for nearly two weeks now. I'm not impressed. I am currently sat in this gloomy room, barely illuminated by a small lamp and the light from my laptop. Ah well.
Last week was so busy, and I have no idea how it passed so quickly. I had so much reading to do and saw so many people, and I started preparing things for my big literature essay. I have a small one to do just now, I have an outline and ideas and everything but no words to string them together with.
I would like a real rest. For everything to just stop so I can look around and get my bearings.
The periods of derealisation are cropping up from time to time, and the overwhelming feeling of emptiness is falling back into place. Sudden bursts of sadness and crying, impossible to overcome. Oh God.
I am so worried. My boyfriend will have noticed and I don't want to scare him off. I am afraid that I will fall back into bad eating habits or self-harm. I am going to try to keep a hold on things, to stop them spinning out of control until I get an appointment at the sexual assault/psychology place.
I got a letter saying I'm at the top of the waiting list, so I should get an appointment soon.
Talking of waiting lists, I'm at the top of the list to get my light fixed. It has been broken for nearly two weeks now. I'm not impressed. I am currently sat in this gloomy room, barely illuminated by a small lamp and the light from my laptop. Ah well.
Last week was so busy, and I have no idea how it passed so quickly. I had so much reading to do and saw so many people, and I started preparing things for my big literature essay. I have a small one to do just now, I have an outline and ideas and everything but no words to string them together with.
I would like a real rest. For everything to just stop so I can look around and get my bearings.
Settling In
So, I've had a few days to get settled back in to Glasgow. I'm pretty happy here, which is surprising. The fact I'm smoking again probably has a lot to do with it. At the moment it's the best way to kind of keep the thoughts about what my ex did to me at bay. They stop the anxiety getting too bad. I must stop soon though.
I'm so glad to be back here and to be able to see my boyfriend. He makes me really happy, and it's lovely to have someone I can talk about books with, and not just casually, we can sit and properly analyse and dissect them. I know that probably sounds ridiculous and pretentious, but we enjoy it. Plus it is useful for our courses to have someone to discuss ideas with.
I am despairing slightly over books. The ones for philosophy have only recently been published, so I have to buy them all at extortionate prices from the university bookshop. One of them isn't even in stock yet and I need to get it started by Monday!
I'm working my way through my ones for Literature. I dislike Orlando. That's all I have to say on that book. For the moment at least.
I have spent days debating over tonight. A pile of us are all going over to a friend's for some drinks then some will be going out to our favourite pub. Considering what happened last time I was out I didn't want to, but to be honest, a lot of my nervousness will be the usual anxiety I feel when it comes to going out. I have bought some cheap vodka and I'm planning on at least going to my friend's and catching up with everybody. I'm not going to hide away, as much as I'd like to.
I'm so glad to be back here and to be able to see my boyfriend. He makes me really happy, and it's lovely to have someone I can talk about books with, and not just casually, we can sit and properly analyse and dissect them. I know that probably sounds ridiculous and pretentious, but we enjoy it. Plus it is useful for our courses to have someone to discuss ideas with.
I am despairing slightly over books. The ones for philosophy have only recently been published, so I have to buy them all at extortionate prices from the university bookshop. One of them isn't even in stock yet and I need to get it started by Monday!
I'm working my way through my ones for Literature. I dislike Orlando. That's all I have to say on that book. For the moment at least.
I have spent days debating over tonight. A pile of us are all going over to a friend's for some drinks then some will be going out to our favourite pub. Considering what happened last time I was out I didn't want to, but to be honest, a lot of my nervousness will be the usual anxiety I feel when it comes to going out. I have bought some cheap vodka and I'm planning on at least going to my friend's and catching up with everybody. I'm not going to hide away, as much as I'd like to.
Back in Glasgow
I arrived back in Glasgow on Friday night and I'm glad to be back!
(I know I rushed through my last post but thinking about what happened makes me sick. I may go into detail a bit more another time.)
About an hour after I got on the second train back there was a lovely announcement to say the train was essentially dying so we had to go back to the station. When we got there the incredibly crowded train was then told there was a much smaller replacement train running. Of course, everybody panicked and ran, and some charming woman pushed into me, resulting in me getting my foot caught in the gap between the train and the platform and I went crashing down onto the metal grille just inside the door. I now have a very sore and colourful knee.
That was all of the excitement of the journey. Yesterday I went ot my boyfriend's and had os much fun making what has to be the worst cake in existence with him and his flatmates. He decided he wanted a giant butterfly cake and had a brilliant plan to hollow out 2 sponges and fill the entire thing with buttercream. The problem was that most of the buttercream was too runny, and as we didn't have any more icing sugar we crumbled up the spare sponge into it. It all just got worse from that point. I'd be very surprised if anybody has tried it yet.
It was lovely to go to sleep next to him again. It would have been a perfect day/night if it wasn't for the fact that I can't really have sex. When we tried, I just kept thinking of the ex I mentioned in my last post, and it just resulted in pain. I hope this goes away soon, otherwise I can imagine it causing a few issues with my boyfriend and me, and I will not let that fat bastard ruin the best thing that has happened to me.
(I know I rushed through my last post but thinking about what happened makes me sick. I may go into detail a bit more another time.)
About an hour after I got on the second train back there was a lovely announcement to say the train was essentially dying so we had to go back to the station. When we got there the incredibly crowded train was then told there was a much smaller replacement train running. Of course, everybody panicked and ran, and some charming woman pushed into me, resulting in me getting my foot caught in the gap between the train and the platform and I went crashing down onto the metal grille just inside the door. I now have a very sore and colourful knee.
That was all of the excitement of the journey. Yesterday I went ot my boyfriend's and had os much fun making what has to be the worst cake in existence with him and his flatmates. He decided he wanted a giant butterfly cake and had a brilliant plan to hollow out 2 sponges and fill the entire thing with buttercream. The problem was that most of the buttercream was too runny, and as we didn't have any more icing sugar we crumbled up the spare sponge into it. It all just got worse from that point. I'd be very surprised if anybody has tried it yet.
It was lovely to go to sleep next to him again. It would have been a perfect day/night if it wasn't for the fact that I can't really have sex. When we tried, I just kept thinking of the ex I mentioned in my last post, and it just resulted in pain. I hope this goes away soon, otherwise I can imagine it causing a few issues with my boyfriend and me, and I will not let that fat bastard ruin the best thing that has happened to me.
05/01/2010
Okay, I don't know how to start this, but it feels like I'm bottling my feelings up about this.
The night before last I went out with one of my best friends from home. My ex, the one who was seeing his ex behind my back, was there. Me and him have got on well since the break-up, and I counted him as a good friend. I'll sum up what happened.
My friend went home and him and me got food then went to his to eat it. I ended up unable to move or talk and I'm not sure why. I also felt very confused. I wasn't incredibly drunk, and I've never felt that way before. While I wasn't able to move he took advantage of me. I kept forgetting who he was and where I was.
When he walked me home I knew something bad had happened but recognised a friend was with me. I hugged him before going in. It was only in the morning I realised what had all happened.
I feel so sick. I can't believe a friend, someone I trusted would do this. I've been to the police, and while part of me is scared of what's going to happen (it'll blow up, he'll deny it, something will make it worse) I feel better for reporting it. Still not good though.
I don't think he actually had sex with me but I can't remember part of the night. I hope not.
I think something was in one of my drinks, but I hope not, and even if there was I'm praying it wasn't him. Hopefully he just saw an opportunity and took it, as horrible as it was. If he planned it I don't know how I'll cope. I'm already enough of a mess over it.
I just can't get my head around it. He was a friend.
The night before last I went out with one of my best friends from home. My ex, the one who was seeing his ex behind my back, was there. Me and him have got on well since the break-up, and I counted him as a good friend. I'll sum up what happened.
My friend went home and him and me got food then went to his to eat it. I ended up unable to move or talk and I'm not sure why. I also felt very confused. I wasn't incredibly drunk, and I've never felt that way before. While I wasn't able to move he took advantage of me. I kept forgetting who he was and where I was.
When he walked me home I knew something bad had happened but recognised a friend was with me. I hugged him before going in. It was only in the morning I realised what had all happened.
I feel so sick. I can't believe a friend, someone I trusted would do this. I've been to the police, and while part of me is scared of what's going to happen (it'll blow up, he'll deny it, something will make it worse) I feel better for reporting it. Still not good though.
I don't think he actually had sex with me but I can't remember part of the night. I hope not.
I think something was in one of my drinks, but I hope not, and even if there was I'm praying it wasn't him. Hopefully he just saw an opportunity and took it, as horrible as it was. If he planned it I don't know how I'll cope. I'm already enough of a mess over it.
I just can't get my head around it. He was a friend.
2011
So where have I been?
Well, right now I'm at home, with my family. I managed to get through my exams and I came back home for the holidays. I return to Glasgow on Friday.
My first exam was philosophy. Thankfully a few things I'd studied came up, so while I may not have got an A I will at least have passed. I can kind of say the same for literature. I managed to write really good answers for two of the sections, but I looked at the third and thought "I can't answer any of these questions." For once the stupidly short exam time came in handy; I didn't have time to sit and worry, I just started writing and I figured out what point I was trying to make halfway through it. English language went alright, Even though some questions were hard, it was multiple choice so it took me no time at all. I'll get my marks back at the end of January.
I'm still with the boyfriend. For the first two weeks I've been back I kept feeling violently ill because I missed him. I'm not even exaggerating. I struggle to maintain relationships without regularly seeing the person, so it's been really hard. The fact that I am undoubtedly head over heels in love with him makes it harder. At the moment I'm just looking forward to seeing him next weekend and I'm trying to stay positive.
It feels really strange. I have never cared about anyone in this way before. I adore him, but sometimes he seems like a stranger. I could listen to him talking about anything for hours on end. Even just the thought that he could leave me someday makes me feel dizzy. The room wobbles and spins. It shouldn't be possible to feel this way.
My eating problems seem under control as well. Since it's the festive period I have gained a few pounds, and that combined with the weight gain from going back on the contraceptive pill means that I am definitely much squidgier than before. I may try to lose weight sensibly when I get back down, but part of me doesn't want to. Don't get me wrong, the thought of gaining more weight terrifies me, but I'm not sure if I want to be thin.
It's hard to describe, but I feel comfortable knowing that while I'm not fat, I'm not thin. I couldn't be called it any more. There's no horrible doubts all day that I'm suddenly not thin any more, and I can't do my usual quick-fix weight loss, lose half stone in a week and be skinny again. I think that because weight loss won't be as easy to achieve than it was, I'm not seeing it as a way to cope with other problems. I could maybe lose a couple of pounds, but I don't want to be thin. I don't mind the extra "flab".
(I never thought I could say that)
Well, right now I'm at home, with my family. I managed to get through my exams and I came back home for the holidays. I return to Glasgow on Friday.
My first exam was philosophy. Thankfully a few things I'd studied came up, so while I may not have got an A I will at least have passed. I can kind of say the same for literature. I managed to write really good answers for two of the sections, but I looked at the third and thought "I can't answer any of these questions." For once the stupidly short exam time came in handy; I didn't have time to sit and worry, I just started writing and I figured out what point I was trying to make halfway through it. English language went alright, Even though some questions were hard, it was multiple choice so it took me no time at all. I'll get my marks back at the end of January.
I'm still with the boyfriend. For the first two weeks I've been back I kept feeling violently ill because I missed him. I'm not even exaggerating. I struggle to maintain relationships without regularly seeing the person, so it's been really hard. The fact that I am undoubtedly head over heels in love with him makes it harder. At the moment I'm just looking forward to seeing him next weekend and I'm trying to stay positive.
It feels really strange. I have never cared about anyone in this way before. I adore him, but sometimes he seems like a stranger. I could listen to him talking about anything for hours on end. Even just the thought that he could leave me someday makes me feel dizzy. The room wobbles and spins. It shouldn't be possible to feel this way.
My eating problems seem under control as well. Since it's the festive period I have gained a few pounds, and that combined with the weight gain from going back on the contraceptive pill means that I am definitely much squidgier than before. I may try to lose weight sensibly when I get back down, but part of me doesn't want to. Don't get me wrong, the thought of gaining more weight terrifies me, but I'm not sure if I want to be thin.
It's hard to describe, but I feel comfortable knowing that while I'm not fat, I'm not thin. I couldn't be called it any more. There's no horrible doubts all day that I'm suddenly not thin any more, and I can't do my usual quick-fix weight loss, lose half stone in a week and be skinny again. I think that because weight loss won't be as easy to achieve than it was, I'm not seeing it as a way to cope with other problems. I could maybe lose a couple of pounds, but I don't want to be thin. I don't mind the extra "flab".
(I never thought I could say that)
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