Dreams of para-para-paradise, every time she closed her eyes....
Hi friends. Been a while since I posted. Basically my computer said oh fuck this and stopped working. I got a lovely beautiful new one for Christmas, but our wifi is messed up so it's basically useless UNTIL MY FATHER DOES SOMETHING ABOUT IT!
My Christmas was awesome. My family is so amazing! First on Christmas we went to Jim and Vicky's and did our usual gift exchange with them and Vicky's parents, my Gigi and Ripper :D I love them. So that was fun, catching up, being sassy, playing with Laika and Griswald. After that we went to my cousin Diane's house. Ahh Beverly, where everyone is related to everyone. I had a lot of fun with all my cousins and Diane's kids, and for the first time in maybe 20 years my mom had to scold me for rough-housing and "getting the kids all wild." After Thanksgiving, I was worried about myself, but I KICKED ASS! I had a few drinks, I ate reasonably and I didn't purge (even though I wanted to a little bit). I love my cousins and everyone that comes along with them. I don't know how well I could truly appreciate things before my grand awakening, because this year felt different. I feel so incredibly grateful for everything and everyone in my life. I've made promises to hang out with both Diane and her brothers, I hate only seeing them twice a year.
All things considered I'm doing really well. My counter manager got me sick for the 2nd time in 2 months, waaaah. Work is going well, life is going well. I had an unfortunate realization that I have to (on paper) redefine my friendship with an old friend. It's funny...I've always had the "I care about you more than you care about me" thing with her, but in the past when this would slap up in my face I would cry and whine and be a bitch, and now I'm just like okay...let's lower our expectations and then we can enjoy what we have. BOOM! Codependent no more!
TK Alumnae was this past Friday. I got to see a lot of friends, so while I'm not happy that they're there, I'm happy I got to see them. The speaker was REALLY good, too. I wish I could remember her name. She actually had her shit together and knew what she was saying, and I really related to her. She also shared something that really hit me...She said she asked Dr. Kim once, "Will I ever be able to have sex and enjoy it?" And of course DK said yes, and now a few years later she told us it's possible and it happens. That brought me some relief, that some day I might not be terrified of everything right down to SAYING the word "sex." Sex is kind of necessary to have those 4 kids I want. Ugh I hate even TYPING that :(((
Interesting that that should come up now. Tomorrow......fuck dude. I'm having nightmares about everything now, both flashback nightmares and any type of "what if" situation that my brain could possibly come up with. Mostly it's "what if he (or anyone involved) shows up at my work?" And so my brain plays out every worst-case scenario possible. And even impossible, I guess... I think I'll be safe tomorrow. I'm working til 6, then going to Ali's, packin bottles of sparkling juice too :)
I'm kind of setting myself up for disappointment...I don't know how to word it. I'm expecting to be just fine tomorrow. I know I'll be nervous and anxious, but I don't plan on being any worse. So, while I know anything could happen, I feel like if it does, I'll just fall apart. Kind of like there are no parts of my recovery, just one whole, and if anything happens, well, everything will slide. I know that doesn't have to happen. I'm just worrying/future-predicting because I'm so good at it. Hopefully I can sleep tonight...
Here's to making 2013 my bitch!
Happy new year, friends :)
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Never gonna get it never gonna get it
So distracted! My computer is dead. Piece of shit. SO I'm sharing the family computer for the first time in...9 years? And of course the TV is on behind me. I'm trying to focus on what I want to write.
So!
December 17th, I hit 3 months self-harm free! And I don't know how long it's been since I purged but it's been a while! The ED is still there, of course, just acting in different ways. And the numbers are just fantastic, which is just spurring the whole thing on. I know it's bad and wrong and fucked up but I can't stop now. And I know some jerk from TK (mark) would probably say Can't, or won't? Can it be both? The both/and? The dialectic? Bahaha throwing TKisms right back at you SUCK IT.
Anyway. OKCupid is going pretty well. It's entertaining, at least. I've found a few winners amidst the crazies and dirty old men asking me to be a part of their threesome. Yeah...4 times. Oh and also my high school douche of a boyfriend, who rated me 5 stars! Hahaha loser. But yes I've found a couple promising new friends. I talked to one of them last night for over 2 hours, we even talked about mental illness, it was pretty cool. I've only talked to him a couple times though, so I don't plan on running off to meet him anytime soon. So calm down. Apparently I have amazing eyes. Thanks genetics!
So, it's my birthweek. This week is always frustrating...I'm really frustrated this year, I think, because I'm this brand new person who has tossed codependency in the trash, and yet I'm still really pissed off about the fact the people STILL ignore my birthday. Yeah, I get to do dinner with my parents, Jim and Vicky, which is always awesome (hibachiiii!). I only kept 2 of my friends from the past around, and they're both basically ignoring me. I'm really not going borderline crazy here. There's no reason why they need to be ignoring my calls/texts/messages, and for one of them it's been a month. Although this has happened in the past...maybe I was just setting myself up for reenactment. BIG SIGH.
I wish I could really sigh, but my lungs are all seized up with anxiety again. I can't tell what I'm anxious about. The timing, yes. Probably because I have therapy tomorrow. I don't know. 2 nights ago I actually slept without nightmares, or at least without remembering any. It was delicious.
Tomorrow will be an absolutely action-packed day off: Laundry, DMV, and therapy. At least I get to go to the library. I need books.
I also have to move myself back into my room from the basement :(((((
Here's to hoping your day will be better than mine! Cheers.
So!
December 17th, I hit 3 months self-harm free! And I don't know how long it's been since I purged but it's been a while! The ED is still there, of course, just acting in different ways. And the numbers are just fantastic, which is just spurring the whole thing on. I know it's bad and wrong and fucked up but I can't stop now. And I know some jerk from TK (mark) would probably say Can't, or won't? Can it be both? The both/and? The dialectic? Bahaha throwing TKisms right back at you SUCK IT.
Anyway. OKCupid is going pretty well. It's entertaining, at least. I've found a few winners amidst the crazies and dirty old men asking me to be a part of their threesome. Yeah...4 times. Oh and also my high school douche of a boyfriend, who rated me 5 stars! Hahaha loser. But yes I've found a couple promising new friends. I talked to one of them last night for over 2 hours, we even talked about mental illness, it was pretty cool. I've only talked to him a couple times though, so I don't plan on running off to meet him anytime soon. So calm down. Apparently I have amazing eyes. Thanks genetics!
So, it's my birthweek. This week is always frustrating...I'm really frustrated this year, I think, because I'm this brand new person who has tossed codependency in the trash, and yet I'm still really pissed off about the fact the people STILL ignore my birthday. Yeah, I get to do dinner with my parents, Jim and Vicky, which is always awesome (hibachiiii!). I only kept 2 of my friends from the past around, and they're both basically ignoring me. I'm really not going borderline crazy here. There's no reason why they need to be ignoring my calls/texts/messages, and for one of them it's been a month. Although this has happened in the past...maybe I was just setting myself up for reenactment. BIG SIGH.
I wish I could really sigh, but my lungs are all seized up with anxiety again. I can't tell what I'm anxious about. The timing, yes. Probably because I have therapy tomorrow. I don't know. 2 nights ago I actually slept without nightmares, or at least without remembering any. It was delicious.
Tomorrow will be an absolutely action-packed day off: Laundry, DMV, and therapy. At least I get to go to the library. I need books.
I also have to move myself back into my room from the basement :(((((
Here's to hoping your day will be better than mine! Cheers.
I FUCKING LOVE GRUMPY CAT
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Hunt you down all nightmare long
Blerg. Nightmares and flashbacks are back FULL FORCE. :((((( And now I'm having flashbacks OF my nightmares! What the fuck?
This is triggering. Don't say I didn't warn you.
I'm in a stereotypical nightmare scene, set in an alley at night, with one harsh fluorescent light casting a circle of light on the wet, potholed asphalt. Between two old brick buildings, I don't know how tall or what color, everything is gray except the people. I'm with someone else, someone younger, maybe a girl. She's weak and dirty and bruised, and I'm there to help her. I keep trying to pull her to her feet, telling her urgently that she has to get up and move. She has to leave because bad things are happening and we can't stop them. Her clothes are ratty and look more like burlap sacks. She's skinny, really skinny, and her hair is long and dark and matted to her head. She screams and falls down in fear, and then I see them. Men, dozens of them, closing in, closing off the exit from the alley. I pick her up onto her feet and when I look up again they are all around. Again, stereotypical crime tv show scene, shaved heads, wearing jeans with chains and wifebeaters. Looking like lions choosing prey. No. Looking like men picking someone to rape and kill. She is standing now, and I put her behind me but it doesn't really matter because they're on all sides. I'm fighting, kicking and punching and diving, but they're just laughing and keep pressing in on all sides. Eventually they completely close in, they are laughing and licking their lips and they have evil in their eyes. The light fades as if something is closing around the bulb in a circle as well. There are hands everywhere, touching and pushing and just running everywhere, especially on my face and hair and neck, they're sweaty and dirty hands. The girl isn't there anymore. I have only one option of possible rescue, and that is to scream, scream as loud as I can and hope someone hears me. I open my mouth and no one stops me, because the only sound coming out is a hoarse rasp because I'm too scared to make noise. I keep trying though, and they're all laughing, and I just keep trying to scream. Then I'm on the dirty ground and it's wet and gravelly and rough and I can barely see the light above me because all of their heads have closed in and they're watching me. Now water is falling on my face and I'm in the tattered ripped cloth that the girl was wearing, because now I'm her, and then it's gone and I'm naked and just being touched roughly everywhere, body and face pushed into the dirty wet ground and I can't close my eyes. They're all laughing and getting ready, they're all unbuckling their belts and pants and watching. There's so many. I'm on the ground face down. And then I think oddly about the road rash I'm going to have after every thrust drives my face and front into the gravel. I can't scream anymore.
This is the scene I have been reliving day and night over and over for days. I'm not taking trazodone, I can't sleep. I just can't. What am I going to do? I just feel weak, I'm just...spent.
This is triggering. Don't say I didn't warn you.
I'm in a stereotypical nightmare scene, set in an alley at night, with one harsh fluorescent light casting a circle of light on the wet, potholed asphalt. Between two old brick buildings, I don't know how tall or what color, everything is gray except the people. I'm with someone else, someone younger, maybe a girl. She's weak and dirty and bruised, and I'm there to help her. I keep trying to pull her to her feet, telling her urgently that she has to get up and move. She has to leave because bad things are happening and we can't stop them. Her clothes are ratty and look more like burlap sacks. She's skinny, really skinny, and her hair is long and dark and matted to her head. She screams and falls down in fear, and then I see them. Men, dozens of them, closing in, closing off the exit from the alley. I pick her up onto her feet and when I look up again they are all around. Again, stereotypical crime tv show scene, shaved heads, wearing jeans with chains and wifebeaters. Looking like lions choosing prey. No. Looking like men picking someone to rape and kill. She is standing now, and I put her behind me but it doesn't really matter because they're on all sides. I'm fighting, kicking and punching and diving, but they're just laughing and keep pressing in on all sides. Eventually they completely close in, they are laughing and licking their lips and they have evil in their eyes. The light fades as if something is closing around the bulb in a circle as well. There are hands everywhere, touching and pushing and just running everywhere, especially on my face and hair and neck, they're sweaty and dirty hands. The girl isn't there anymore. I have only one option of possible rescue, and that is to scream, scream as loud as I can and hope someone hears me. I open my mouth and no one stops me, because the only sound coming out is a hoarse rasp because I'm too scared to make noise. I keep trying though, and they're all laughing, and I just keep trying to scream. Then I'm on the dirty ground and it's wet and gravelly and rough and I can barely see the light above me because all of their heads have closed in and they're watching me. Now water is falling on my face and I'm in the tattered ripped cloth that the girl was wearing, because now I'm her, and then it's gone and I'm naked and just being touched roughly everywhere, body and face pushed into the dirty wet ground and I can't close my eyes. They're all laughing and getting ready, they're all unbuckling their belts and pants and watching. There's so many. I'm on the ground face down. And then I think oddly about the road rash I'm going to have after every thrust drives my face and front into the gravel. I can't scream anymore.
This is the scene I have been reliving day and night over and over for days. I'm not taking trazodone, I can't sleep. I just can't. What am I going to do? I just feel weak, I'm just...spent.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
I DRIVE A DODGE STRATUS.
I have to work 7:15-11:15. Tonight will be the first of 5 of that same shift in the next week. F my L dude. I don't want to do this. And also I'm a sick panda. GRAAAWRRRR.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
It's about time for my arrival UH. what.
WOW my blog has been viewed over 4050 times! People, get lives! No please don't my self-esteem depends on you....omgjklolroflcopter.
I'm trying to figure out if I really want to find people to date (hence the online dating), if I'm READY to date, and of course if I'm just setting myself up for some kind of trauma reenactment because anniversary date is coming up. UGH EMOTIONS. EXPLAIN YOURSELVES.
Also I totes found a friend from junior high/high school on the website. Awk.
You know what? People don't understand the real, hard-hitting issues that are in my brain constantly. Most of the time I keep these perplexing thoughts to myself. MOST of the time. So in case you're wondering what plagues my restless mind...Why do I always have to poop once I lay down for bed? Why?? Cause I know when I get up in the morning I won't have to/won't be able to. Where does it all go? Does God think it's funny that I have to go AFTER I've taken my meds and won't be able to stumble my way up the stairs to the bathroom?
I say "up" the stairs because I am still sleeping in my basement. It's clean and smells good down here and since my dad got this little job thingy it doesn't smell like man cave/sweat lodge anymore. Also my room is ridiculously overwhelming to even look at and it makes me want to jump out a fucking window. I need to move back upstairs though...I keep forgetting that I'm sleeping in a daybed so I have bruises from hitting/kicking the bars while I sleep. And also a big bump on my forehead from doing the same. Nightmares+metal-barred-bed=way to go, Boyer.
No wonder my mom gave me the prayer card for St. Jude so many years ago. "He's the patron saint for hopeless causes." Haha, oh mom. OH BARB. Babar. Lady.
My therapist is a twi-hard. Team Edward all the way, yeah buddy?
Now I'm just trying to think of all the random shit on my mind, because my mind truly is a strange and ridiculous place.
I have this apple cutter...and it's square shaped. Every time I slice an apple I have to cut off the sides so that it's shaped like a square. Who invented this? Who thought this was a good idea? More importantly, who thought it was a good idea to buy this? NOT ME. APPLES ARE NOT SQUARE.
Let's think of one more ridiculous thing to finish this bad boy up. Ummmm...me and Ali are both baby crazy. And I was going to edit that last sentence but instead thought I'd leave it and tell you all just how upset I am that I wrote "me and Ali." That is not proper grammar mechanics. RED PENCIL NAZI. I love babies. I can't wait til Jim and Vicky have kids ahhhhhhh Aunt Julie best aunt everrrrrrr.....
Also I want to change my last name argh. I either need to get married asap or become a Broadway star overnight so I can use an equity name. Basically we just drop the last name. Julie O'Carroll. LOVE IT.
I think that about wraps up the insanity going on in my head right now. I mean, not really, but there's a little taste for you. It's about time I posted something other than misery on here.
Good night, friends and loved ones. And therapist.
I'm trying to figure out if I really want to find people to date (hence the online dating), if I'm READY to date, and of course if I'm just setting myself up for some kind of trauma reenactment because anniversary date is coming up. UGH EMOTIONS. EXPLAIN YOURSELVES.
Also I totes found a friend from junior high/high school on the website. Awk.
You know what? People don't understand the real, hard-hitting issues that are in my brain constantly. Most of the time I keep these perplexing thoughts to myself. MOST of the time. So in case you're wondering what plagues my restless mind...Why do I always have to poop once I lay down for bed? Why?? Cause I know when I get up in the morning I won't have to/won't be able to. Where does it all go? Does God think it's funny that I have to go AFTER I've taken my meds and won't be able to stumble my way up the stairs to the bathroom?
I say "up" the stairs because I am still sleeping in my basement. It's clean and smells good down here and since my dad got this little job thingy it doesn't smell like man cave/sweat lodge anymore. Also my room is ridiculously overwhelming to even look at and it makes me want to jump out a fucking window. I need to move back upstairs though...I keep forgetting that I'm sleeping in a daybed so I have bruises from hitting/kicking the bars while I sleep. And also a big bump on my forehead from doing the same. Nightmares+metal-barred-bed=way to go, Boyer.
No wonder my mom gave me the prayer card for St. Jude so many years ago. "He's the patron saint for hopeless causes." Haha, oh mom. OH BARB. Babar. Lady.
My therapist is a twi-hard. Team Edward all the way, yeah buddy?
Now I'm just trying to think of all the random shit on my mind, because my mind truly is a strange and ridiculous place.
I have this apple cutter...and it's square shaped. Every time I slice an apple I have to cut off the sides so that it's shaped like a square. Who invented this? Who thought this was a good idea? More importantly, who thought it was a good idea to buy this? NOT ME. APPLES ARE NOT SQUARE.
Let's think of one more ridiculous thing to finish this bad boy up. Ummmm...me and Ali are both baby crazy. And I was going to edit that last sentence but instead thought I'd leave it and tell you all just how upset I am that I wrote "me and Ali." That is not proper grammar mechanics. RED PENCIL NAZI. I love babies. I can't wait til Jim and Vicky have kids ahhhhhhh Aunt Julie best aunt everrrrrrr.....
Also I want to change my last name argh. I either need to get married asap or become a Broadway star overnight so I can use an equity name. Basically we just drop the last name. Julie O'Carroll. LOVE IT.
I think that about wraps up the insanity going on in my head right now. I mean, not really, but there's a little taste for you. It's about time I posted something other than misery on here.
Good night, friends and loved ones. And therapist.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
And nothing else matters
I was right, and everyone was right. I was convinced that I wasn't avoiding my emotions, just channeling them productively into something beautiful. Yeah, I was productive, and I helped make something amazing. Then I thought, yay, 9 hour work day, more productivity. No. I can't stop crying. I feel lost, hopeless, helpless. I feel like everything is so insignificant. How do so many stupid and pointless things matter so much? Wealth, beauty, status, who cares? WHY? I'm so angry with the emphasis people put on these things and then lives are lost in the chaos.
That's not really what I'm upset about. I was trying to put words to my feelings and the only thing I could come up with was sad. I literally said "I'm so sad." I guess to elaborate it would be crushed...devastated...in despair. Those sound dramatic. Whatever.
I was so strong for everyone around me. I think I know how my mom must feel. She doesn't get to let her emotions out because my father and I suck the life out of her. Especially me...I'm such an emotional handful, and my dad doesn't care about people, she has no one to go to. Now I feel sad and like a terrible person. When I feel like this I start beating the shit out of myself emotionally. I'm also upset that I can't be that strong person for others anymore...not now anyway. Ever? It was just a facade, a front. A lie. I was lying to everyone and definitely lying to myself. I didn't even cry at the memorial...
I had very strong urges to cut tonight. And for the first time in months, I felt like I wanted to be dead. I didn't want to kill myself...I just want to exist in nothingness for a while. I went outside to smoke and it's so foggy I couldn't even see across the street. If I could just float in that, for a little while...
I hate wanting to be emotionally dead. I hate that things happen to make me feel this way, just as I hate how nothing in the world could have eased Ariel's pain. I know I will wake up tomorrow and it will be a new day. I know I need to start worrying when every day feels the same. I just hate living this way, with these demons. Fuck.
That's not really what I'm upset about. I was trying to put words to my feelings and the only thing I could come up with was sad. I literally said "I'm so sad." I guess to elaborate it would be crushed...devastated...in despair. Those sound dramatic. Whatever.
I was so strong for everyone around me. I think I know how my mom must feel. She doesn't get to let her emotions out because my father and I suck the life out of her. Especially me...I'm such an emotional handful, and my dad doesn't care about people, she has no one to go to. Now I feel sad and like a terrible person. When I feel like this I start beating the shit out of myself emotionally. I'm also upset that I can't be that strong person for others anymore...not now anyway. Ever? It was just a facade, a front. A lie. I was lying to everyone and definitely lying to myself. I didn't even cry at the memorial...
I had very strong urges to cut tonight. And for the first time in months, I felt like I wanted to be dead. I didn't want to kill myself...I just want to exist in nothingness for a while. I went outside to smoke and it's so foggy I couldn't even see across the street. If I could just float in that, for a little while...
I hate wanting to be emotionally dead. I hate that things happen to make me feel this way, just as I hate how nothing in the world could have eased Ariel's pain. I know I will wake up tomorrow and it will be a new day. I know I need to start worrying when every day feels the same. I just hate living this way, with these demons. Fuck.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
If you ever feel like you're nothing, you are perfect to me
Today was the memorial. It was absolutely beautiful, Father Gavin is my hero in all things Catholic and wonderful. There was a great turnout, though I was very sad to see that NO TK staff came. VERY upset that one of Ariel's favorite BHSs wouldn't come because she "had a concert that started at 6:30." I haven't liked that bitch since our freshman year of high school, I didn't like that bitch when she had to listen to me pee, and I certainly don't like that bitch now. I feel like that's the only thing Ariel would be really upset about. The rest of it though...she was definitely there, in the room with us. Yelling at us for crying, doing cartwheels...singing her favorite songs with me, making my voice strong when it shook. This whole week was emotional hell, so much stress and anxiety and on the brink of despair...thank God for the TK community. I don't credit all of my strength to the "new" post-TK Julie, I credit the majority of it to my amazing support network. I couldn't get by without them. It was also a giant help and comfort to have Peter (GBF) by my side, once again playing piano and singing with me. PB+J reunited :)
I'm exhausted, so I'm going to post something I wrote that was read at the service. God bless you all, I love you.
When someone we love leaves us in the way that Ariel did, we have many questions. One of the most common questions is, what could I have done to prevent this? Could I have loved her better?
The response to that question is that a suicide has nothing to do with love. It has to do with pain.
Talking about suicide and love is like comparing apples to oranges. When a person takes her life, she is making a statement, and that statement is that the pain in her life had become intolerable, and she could no longer tolerate the pain. She ran out of steam. The pain reached such a level that the only way out was to end her life.
Love is incapable of piercing and healing the pain that engulfed Ariel’s soul. She could not conceive of another answer. Suicide was the only way to escape her pain. The pain from mental illness is so powerful that it has the ability to distort reality, and suicide makes all the sense in the world.
Human love can enhance the happiness and peace of the soul, but it is impossible to heal a soul or create happiness where there is none. We can only hope to enhance the happiness and peace of those around us, those of us who survive. To enhance each other’s lives so that we may not just see the light, but can bask in its warmth and love.
I'm exhausted, so I'm going to post something I wrote that was read at the service. God bless you all, I love you.
When someone we love leaves us in the way that Ariel did, we have many questions. One of the most common questions is, what could I have done to prevent this? Could I have loved her better?
The response to that question is that a suicide has nothing to do with love. It has to do with pain.
Talking about suicide and love is like comparing apples to oranges. When a person takes her life, she is making a statement, and that statement is that the pain in her life had become intolerable, and she could no longer tolerate the pain. She ran out of steam. The pain reached such a level that the only way out was to end her life.
Love is incapable of piercing and healing the pain that engulfed Ariel’s soul. She could not conceive of another answer. Suicide was the only way to escape her pain. The pain from mental illness is so powerful that it has the ability to distort reality, and suicide makes all the sense in the world.
Human love can enhance the happiness and peace of the soul, but it is impossible to heal a soul or create happiness where there is none. We can only hope to enhance the happiness and peace of those around us, those of us who survive. To enhance each other’s lives so that we may not just see the light, but can bask in its warmth and love.
Monday, November 26, 2012
A song for a heart so big, God wouldn't let it live
I'm still too...I don't know...to write what's in my head. So here's some pictures.
This is one of the more...special...kudos that I received from Ariel.
At the Jason Mraz/Christina Perri concert
Museum of Science and Industry
Sunday, November 25, 2012
what is ok
"To the General Public:
As I’m sure you all know, I’ve been struggling for a while. I’ve been in and out of treatment for almost a year now. Many of you probably thought I was doing better. I can’t say that treatment didn’t help me. It changed me a lot, in the way I am and the way I think. I am so grateful for all the support and chances you guys have given me. Unfortunately, no one could save me. I didn’t want to live, and that’s how it is. Don’t be sad, be happy that I am finally happy. I promise I will do whatever I can to haunt all of your asses.
Mad peace and love,
Ariel"
As I’m sure you all know, I’ve been struggling for a while. I’ve been in and out of treatment for almost a year now. Many of you probably thought I was doing better. I can’t say that treatment didn’t help me. It changed me a lot, in the way I am and the way I think. I am so grateful for all the support and chances you guys have given me. Unfortunately, no one could save me. I didn’t want to live, and that’s how it is. Don’t be sad, be happy that I am finally happy. I promise I will do whatever I can to haunt all of your asses.
Mad peace and love,
Ariel"
this is not ok. i am not ok. i will not BE ok.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional(ly unstable).
You know how they say you can hide from everyone but yourself? Ugh. I hate admitting when anyone but myself is right. I fucked up hardcore last night, and I didn't do too much better tonight. I had myself convinced that I was numb to it. Then tonight, literally seconds after laughing with my mom, I closed my door to get ready for bed and out of nowhere, BOOM, open the floodgates.
You know what REALLY sucks, and I'm REALLY baffled about it?
I don't care about letting myself down; I'm used to that. I don't care about letting anyone else down. I care about letting my therapist down. I know he says that that's not the case...but when all of the stupid shit I did over the past few days hit me, and I realized how much I would have to admit to, that's when I started crying. We made a connection, months ago, regarding transference and my therapist and my father. Because my therapist gives me the attention/acceptance/understanding that I never got from my father, I have transferred almost all other emotions/expectations onto Mark. I DID, however, get PLENTY of lessons on consequences and disappointment growing up, so maybe that's what I'm expecting?
I feel like therapists should be able to tell their colleagues or family or friends or whoever those people talk to about their success stories; especially my therapist, who deserves to tell nothing BUT success stories. I let myself believe, now and then, that I would be one of them. And then I just mess everything up, and I know I'm not going back to square one, but I have to go back farther than the last time I stumbled. I'm supposed to be good at things! If I'm not good at something, why would I do it? UGH. I don't mean for that to sound completely defeated/given up...but it's a thought that's running through my mind. Ugh crying again. WHO AM I I DON'T CRY WHAT THE FUCK.
FUCK!
Oh and of course I waited too long to get my meds refilled, so unless my pharmacy or my elusive psychiatrist can pull off a miracle, I'll be even more fucked up AND going through withdrawal symptoms! f.m.l.
You know what REALLY sucks, and I'm REALLY baffled about it?
I don't care about letting myself down; I'm used to that. I don't care about letting anyone else down. I care about letting my therapist down. I know he says that that's not the case...but when all of the stupid shit I did over the past few days hit me, and I realized how much I would have to admit to, that's when I started crying. We made a connection, months ago, regarding transference and my therapist and my father. Because my therapist gives me the attention/acceptance/understanding that I never got from my father, I have transferred almost all other emotions/expectations onto Mark. I DID, however, get PLENTY of lessons on consequences and disappointment growing up, so maybe that's what I'm expecting?
I feel like therapists should be able to tell their colleagues or family or friends or whoever those people talk to about their success stories; especially my therapist, who deserves to tell nothing BUT success stories. I let myself believe, now and then, that I would be one of them. And then I just mess everything up, and I know I'm not going back to square one, but I have to go back farther than the last time I stumbled. I'm supposed to be good at things! If I'm not good at something, why would I do it? UGH. I don't mean for that to sound completely defeated/given up...but it's a thought that's running through my mind. Ugh crying again. WHO AM I I DON'T CRY WHAT THE FUCK.
FUCK!
Oh and of course I waited too long to get my meds refilled, so unless my pharmacy or my elusive psychiatrist can pull off a miracle, I'll be even more fucked up AND going through withdrawal symptoms! f.m.l.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Child, the lord won't mind
I've been listening to Spring Awakening again pretty non-stop. After my journey through treatment, this one song reaches to me. I used to skip this song every time, but now I can sing with it (with incredible passion I might add), and I do so, very loudly and expressively. In my car. Yup. The lyrics seem fitting considering Thanksgiving is coming up.
The Dark I Know Well -- Spring Awakening (not all the lyrics)
There is a part I can't tell, about the dark I know well
So I leave, wantin' just to hide
Knowin' deep inside, you are comin' to me
You say all you want is just a kiss good night
Then you hold me and you whisper, "Child, the lord won't mind.
It's just you and me, child you're a beauty."
I don't scream, though I know it's wrong
I just play along
I lie there and breathe, lie there and breathe
I wanna be strong, I want the world to find out
That you're dreamin' on me
Me and my "beauty"
It's very hard to take a compliment, when someone calls me pretty or beautiful, because for so long those words brought up the memories of people saying that to me while abusing me.
My head is cloudy now...I'm gonna go to sleep.
The Dark I Know Well -- Spring Awakening (not all the lyrics)
There is a part I can't tell, about the dark I know well
So I leave, wantin' just to hide
Knowin' deep inside, you are comin' to me
You say all you want is just a kiss good night
Then you hold me and you whisper, "Child, the lord won't mind.
It's just you and me, child you're a beauty."
I don't scream, though I know it's wrong
I just play along
I lie there and breathe, lie there and breathe
I wanna be strong, I want the world to find out
That you're dreamin' on me
Me and my "beauty"
It's very hard to take a compliment, when someone calls me pretty or beautiful, because for so long those words brought up the memories of people saying that to me while abusing me.
My head is cloudy now...I'm gonna go to sleep.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Lucky to have been where I have been
I don't have too much to post about today. Wednesdays are my days off, so I spent the day relaxing and crocheting. I made a winter ear-warmer and a toy for my cats. Who's cool? THIS girl. I have tomorrow off too, and since I'm in good spirits, I will make myself start on my room. I have to wash everything I have because even though there are clean clothes everywhere, they have either touched the floor or other clothes that are dirty or have been on the floor. Reminds me of how mad the BHSs would get at TK at meals because I'd have to keep getting new silverwear every time one touched the tray. But then I'D get mad at THEM because they'd make me go get ONE carrot or something stupid because I had ONE left that I wouldn't eat because it touched the tray. Ah fond memories. Speaking of TK, one of my coworkers recognized my tattoo and told me she was there (on Oak) a few years ago. Kinda cool :)
Anyways. The thought that I want to get out there (and make sense of) is this. I always have some level of relapse once I start feeling too "good." I start being healthy, and once I acknowledge that, some subconscious part of my brain freaks out and drags me down. THIS time, I'm acknowledging THAT thought. Because right now, I'm feeling pretty great. Even writing that was hard, because my brain immediately wanted to stop me from jinxing myself. But I don't think I am...I think I set myself up for consistent self-fulfilling prophecies. Because relapse and sickness are what I know. I haven't known what healthy feels like since I was maybe 13? Food is going better, I'm powering through nightmares and I haven't had a flashback in a few days, and though I'm freaking out about Thanksgiving, I'm being rational and taking steps to do everything I can to preserve my recovery. I even invited a good friend from TK over for the day of chaos, because I know I will need support and distractions, and she's awesome, and we can support each other through the meal part. And maybe she would play Star Wars Monopoly with me and my cousins? Man, EVERY year for the past 6 years I end up spending half the evening explaining to Paddy why building a house on Alderaan is a bad idea. ...Yeah, it would definitely help to have a girl friend my age there! I still sometimes feel like I'm too young for everyone else. Maybe it's because no one wanted to be around me and my huge inappropriate drunken mouth throwing everyone under the bus left and right...maybe this year will be different.
That was a long sidetrack. Long story short, I'm feeling really great. I'm letting myself enjoy my life, because hey, it's actually a pretty okay life! I'm going to try my hardest to not let negativity in. Even now, sick brain is whispering you're NOT okay...you're just covering up how much you're hurting... Shut up!
It's time to make the life I want for myself! [insert 80s movie freeze-frame fist-pump ending]
Anyways. The thought that I want to get out there (and make sense of) is this. I always have some level of relapse once I start feeling too "good." I start being healthy, and once I acknowledge that, some subconscious part of my brain freaks out and drags me down. THIS time, I'm acknowledging THAT thought. Because right now, I'm feeling pretty great. Even writing that was hard, because my brain immediately wanted to stop me from jinxing myself. But I don't think I am...I think I set myself up for consistent self-fulfilling prophecies. Because relapse and sickness are what I know. I haven't known what healthy feels like since I was maybe 13? Food is going better, I'm powering through nightmares and I haven't had a flashback in a few days, and though I'm freaking out about Thanksgiving, I'm being rational and taking steps to do everything I can to preserve my recovery. I even invited a good friend from TK over for the day of chaos, because I know I will need support and distractions, and she's awesome, and we can support each other through the meal part. And maybe she would play Star Wars Monopoly with me and my cousins? Man, EVERY year for the past 6 years I end up spending half the evening explaining to Paddy why building a house on Alderaan is a bad idea. ...Yeah, it would definitely help to have a girl friend my age there! I still sometimes feel like I'm too young for everyone else. Maybe it's because no one wanted to be around me and my huge inappropriate drunken mouth throwing everyone under the bus left and right...maybe this year will be different.
That was a long sidetrack. Long story short, I'm feeling really great. I'm letting myself enjoy my life, because hey, it's actually a pretty okay life! I'm going to try my hardest to not let negativity in. Even now, sick brain is whispering you're NOT okay...you're just covering up how much you're hurting... Shut up!
It's time to make the life I want for myself! [insert 80s movie freeze-frame fist-pump ending]
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
They say I'm crazy...I really don't care. That's my prerogative
LOVE me some Brit Brit.
I feel like I need to post something other than woe and whining, because my life is really not as bad as you'd think it is from this blog. I hate the word "blog," I feel like a 15 year old with a LiveJournal when I say that. Also, yes, I had a livejournal, and I think it still exists somewhere...I remember my username was Spandex Pance, the name of the fake air-guitar-air-drum-lip syncing band that Laura and I made up around sophomore year of high school. The word "pance" was invented because I was upset about how the word "pants" is plural, because there is no such thing as one "pant." So I changed the spelling.
Wow!
Anyways. Food business has been a bit easier over the past few days. I'm still not eating much, but I'm not obsessing as much and I've avoided the scale for a while, so I guess I'm just giving my mind a break. Excuse? Could be. I even ate pasta tonight, and I really enjoyed it, without any urges afterwards! Yay!!
Still having nightmares, but I slept better last night, and I haven't had a flashback in 2 days or so. I still get slightly panicky when I think about Thanksgiving, but I know I can't change the fact that it will come, it will be hard, and it will be over. I invited a friend from TK over, so if her treatment team OKs it, I'll have a good friend over for mutual support. I'm very lucky that we host Thanksgiving, so if things get too hard, I can always go up to my room to take a break, and I can ask my mom or Vicky or someone to check in me in so many minutes so that I don't isolate too much. Wow, I think I just made a game plan!
Work is going really well. I love all of my coworkers. Apparently there's quite a bit of drama throughout the department, and I am extremely grateful that I am not a part of ANY of it! THAT's a milestone! I'm doing really well there. No missed shifts (except for when I was in California), NO late clock-ins, and I've picked up every shift I can, including taking an extra 4-5 hours on a shift with very short notice (including on that same day). I'm KILLING sales, I have very loyal clients, and as far as I know, people like me. I'm actually enjoying myself there! By NO means will this become a career, but for where I am now, as much as I may dislike that this is my life at 25, I can say that I'm enjoying it.
I think that'll be it for tonight. It's late and I need to focus on skype now. Good night America.
I feel like I need to post something other than woe and whining, because my life is really not as bad as you'd think it is from this blog. I hate the word "blog," I feel like a 15 year old with a LiveJournal when I say that. Also, yes, I had a livejournal, and I think it still exists somewhere...I remember my username was Spandex Pance, the name of the fake air-guitar-air-drum-lip syncing band that Laura and I made up around sophomore year of high school. The word "pance" was invented because I was upset about how the word "pants" is plural, because there is no such thing as one "pant." So I changed the spelling.
Wow!
Anyways. Food business has been a bit easier over the past few days. I'm still not eating much, but I'm not obsessing as much and I've avoided the scale for a while, so I guess I'm just giving my mind a break. Excuse? Could be. I even ate pasta tonight, and I really enjoyed it, without any urges afterwards! Yay!!
Still having nightmares, but I slept better last night, and I haven't had a flashback in 2 days or so. I still get slightly panicky when I think about Thanksgiving, but I know I can't change the fact that it will come, it will be hard, and it will be over. I invited a friend from TK over, so if her treatment team OKs it, I'll have a good friend over for mutual support. I'm very lucky that we host Thanksgiving, so if things get too hard, I can always go up to my room to take a break, and I can ask my mom or Vicky or someone to check in me in so many minutes so that I don't isolate too much. Wow, I think I just made a game plan!
Work is going really well. I love all of my coworkers. Apparently there's quite a bit of drama throughout the department, and I am extremely grateful that I am not a part of ANY of it! THAT's a milestone! I'm doing really well there. No missed shifts (except for when I was in California), NO late clock-ins, and I've picked up every shift I can, including taking an extra 4-5 hours on a shift with very short notice (including on that same day). I'm KILLING sales, I have very loyal clients, and as far as I know, people like me. I'm actually enjoying myself there! By NO means will this become a career, but for where I am now, as much as I may dislike that this is my life at 25, I can say that I'm enjoying it.
I think that'll be it for tonight. It's late and I need to focus on skype now. Good night America.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Yeah you're fucked alright, and all for spite
You can kiss your sorry ass goodbye! Totally fucked, will they mess you up? Well you know they're gonna try...
BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH!
I forgot how much I love Spring Awakening. Saddest and most tragic musical I've ever seen, but definitely some amazing music.
Anyway. I'm too tired to post anything. Long story short, I'm really mad at myself. For a lot of things. A lot of things that I actually thought, "Hmm, will I be upset about this later?" And then sick mind says SHUT UP RECOVERY JULIE, FEED MY ADDICTIONS NOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don't know. I'm really trying to think of something to make this post something other than pointless, but all I keep thinking is I don't know.
K BAI!
BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH!
I forgot how much I love Spring Awakening. Saddest and most tragic musical I've ever seen, but definitely some amazing music.
Anyway. I'm too tired to post anything. Long story short, I'm really mad at myself. For a lot of things. A lot of things that I actually thought, "Hmm, will I be upset about this later?" And then sick mind says SHUT UP RECOVERY JULIE, FEED MY ADDICTIONS NOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don't know. I'm really trying to think of something to make this post something other than pointless, but all I keep thinking is I don't know.
K BAI!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
It's just the beasts under your bed, in your closet, in your head
Sigh. As I decided what word to use to properly describe my feelings to begin my post, I remembered how Mark used to say that he could tell how our session would go within the first 5 seconds as I walked in the room. If someone asked me how I'm doing I'd probably sigh and say "fine." Typing that was pointless because only I know what this looks like. BUT I try not to edit myself on here, so HA, I just wasted 15 seconds of your life. Also, my eyelashes are sticking together. This is why I shouldn't use so much mascara. (But my lashes look so goooood! Worth it.)
Way to avoid the topic.
SO. Wednesday night, I hung out with Ali at her place in Lincoln Park. Around 11 we were both hungry, so we went to this 24 hour place because who doesn't love breakfast at 11pm right? (The answer is obvious. Breakfast is always delicious.) I had a minor heart attack when the waitress brought my food; the plate was enormous. I told Ali I was having an ED freak out, so she helped distract me and I ate most of my food. It was probably the biggest single meal I've had in a couple weeks. Later I just focused on enjoying my night, and I ended up getting through it. I decided that I could give myself a break. Then yesterday was fun. We woke up and watched Dr. Horrible, then Ali says "You know what we should do? We should go to the zoo." Random as fuck. The zoo is only a 5 minute bus ride from her place, and we ended up spending almost 3 hours there, it was so fun. We decided to be touristy when we walked in, so we saw all the best animals (ZEBRAS!) and took pictures and even got one of those silly photobooth pictures, it was so much fun.
After the zoo, we ate (and I survived without hating myself!) and then I headed home in the middle of rush hour. Awesome. I was so happy with myself for letting the food crap go, I was actually really feeling good.
Later, I was watching the news with my parents. Some story about something was on and it was showing a courtroom, and my brain instantly flashed to a moment I had at TK, where I was asked if I would ever take my rapist to court. The thought then terrified me, of having to see him again and probably everyone who was there. And so that thought then took over my brain, and I began to have a flashback. I couldn't breathe, I dissociated, and I was just so afraid. SO terrified, like when a loud noise scares you...that initial blinding fear that fades away in a nanosecond, except it doesn't go away. When I got a slight grip on myself, I was able to consciously think, "I'm having a flashback." So I laid down on the couch with my head in my mom's lap (I know, "awwww"), told her what was happening, and she rubbed my back until I finished crying and I was able to slow my heart and breathing. I knew I would have nightmares then, so I tried to stay awake, but ended up falling asleep, and yep, nightmares.
Today I worked, not too much fun there. Then I was watching tv and had another flashback. I cried again and my heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest while horrifying images flashed in front of my eyes, no matter how hard I pressed my palms into them. That just gave me a headache. When I came to my realization of what was going on, I got on WhatsApp and asked Liz and Riham to help me, so Liz told me bad jokes, and slowly it passed. By bad jokes I mean awesome anti-jokes, such as "Why did Sally fall off the swing? Because she has no arms." Then I watched 3 episodes of Boardwalk Empire. I finally resigned myself to taking my meds and getting in bed. And now it's 3am and I'm still too scared to sleep. AGH.
Can the universe give me a day off from all this please? :(
Monday, November 5, 2012
Whisper things into my brain, assuring me that I'm insane
I should really write in here when I have good days, because this whole blog looks like one giant sad baby whine fest. I'm having trouble deciding how much of my current life IS, in fact, a giant sad baby whine fest. Probably because it feels like my whole life is shit when I'm having a bad moment or a bad day. I'm getting better, but still the shit blurs the good out when I'm having an especially bad time.
Moving on to TODAY's shit! Today wasn't all shit. I don't know.
This is going to be a confusing ramble of a post, I can already tell. Buckle up, here it comes.
I guess I should recap my adventures with ED for the week. I'm not sure when I started, I think Thursday? Anyway I've been restricting a lot. I wouldn't let myself eat. I'd get my fill of calories from all the coffee I drink at work. If I did eat, usually dinner with my family because I don't want them to be suspicious, I hate myself. I lost about 8lbs between Thursday and yesterday. I let myself eat Saturday night...I was with Darby in Hyde Park, and we decided to get Thai food. I ate about 1/4 of my food...it was ungodly spicy and just disgusting, reminding me that oh yeah, I think Thai food is nasty. The entire drive home, I worked myself up so much that I probably could have thrown up without making myself. At one point some idiot nearly side swiped me, which would have ran me off the road into a ditch, and the ONLY thing I could think was, "Then I wouldn't be able to throw up in time." I wasn't even afraid of being hurt, not even startled at the sudden sight of an Escalade bearing down on my baby Civic. That's sick. And not the good kind of sick. So I got home in time and purged. About an hour later, I got a text from Darby saying that she got food poisoning. The timing of this was EXCELLENT, so when my parents asked me about it I said it was food poisoning and I must be telling the truth because Darby got it too. :( And let me tell you that spicy shit hurt WAY more coming up than it did going down. Bleh I know I shouldn't make this a joke. It's what I do. So yesterday, I gave myself permission to eat like a normal person, AND I managed to stay away from the scale. Then today I told myself, just coffee. Just coffee today. However, I ate pizza with my dad tonight. I was so full, I was disgusted with myself. And on top of disgusted, I HATED myself for not doing something about the disgust (purging). I guess Ed hated me...but irrational Julie jumped right on board with him. So when I came upstairs to go to bed, I stopped by the scale. After losing 8lbs, I gained back 9. So I cried on the floor again. No more eating for me. Over the weekend I started doing something. I wear a tight rubberband around my wrist, and every time I eat or think about eating or get sad because I can't eat, I snap it three times, always in the same spot. The redder my wrist is at night, the more upset I am with myself, because that means I've been thinking about eating so much. Then I lay in bed and snap it even after my eyes start to water. What the fuck has my life come to? It's taking a LOT for me to not delete everything, because admitting to it makes me feel like I shouldn't do it anymore. I can't believe I didn't purge tonight, this is disgusting. Good thing I keep rubberbands everywhere.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Here they come again to jack my style
I'm going to explode. I'M GOING TO EXPLODE. Today is the angriest I've been since before TK. For a while I've been feeling really pushed away/ignored at work. This woman is running our department while my actual manager is out doing chemo, and she's a total wench. Marty appreciated me, she listened to my ideas because SHE KNEW I WAS A FUCKING ROCKSTAR. This woman...she just can do no wrong, apparently. NOTHING I say is right, and if I've talked to her about something 3 times and she doesn't remember (which she never does), clearly I'm making it up and I deserve to be yelled at for getting irritated. I'm not going to go into every little detail. I am fucking amazing at my job. I don't think it's too hard to be good at this stupid and useless job, but nonetheless, I rule. My biggest asset, besides most things, is my creativity. Our department used to be so awesome, because Marty listened to my ideas, then fostered an environment where all ideas could be heard. Anything I suggest gets shot down. The other day I spent 3 hours working on a project, and today I come in and see that she has ripped the entire thing apart to do it herself (and it looked like SHIT). I have really good ideas on how to make the place run smoother, cleaner, and more fun. NOPE. NO fun in Impulse. They have NO FUCKING CLUE what they would miss, and how much they would suddenly find themselves having to do every day, if I wasn't there. I can't stand being unappreciated. Especially when I put SO much time and effort and pride into what I do in this useless, mundane profession. This all makes my job sound even more superficial than I already think it is. Tell me again why I spent $2000 to get certified in this? Who was I kidding. Fuck.
IN other news...been dealing with a lot of anxiety over the past couple weeks, building and building. I've been catching myself clenching and unclenching my hands, pulling my hair, and since Liz made me aware of my rocking back and forth, I've caught myself doing that too. It's also getting harder and harder to breathe, and I either feel like I'm going to explode and flip a table all Jesus style or just collapse on the ground crying uncontrollably. Haven't QUITE done either of those, just ended up crying on my floor. This is really hard for me, a real test... I haven't been faced with anxiety or anger like this since TK. It doesn't help that it's November, which means I now get to face the 2 hardest months of my year.
And also, because life isn't awesome enough, my nightmares are back. In varying degrees of intensity, but still. They're back. From having to experience everyone closest to me laughing at me/humiliating me to seeing all of my successful college friends pitying me to reliving my real-life nightmares of abuse and rape, nights are once again terrifying. :(
And I'm crying again! 3 times in one day. Oh boy. I have to work 9 hours tomorrow, all day with the woman that hates me. This is going to be really hard...please send good energy my way. Or random positive text messages, those work too. And Vic we should probably hang out soon, I miss you.
IN other news...been dealing with a lot of anxiety over the past couple weeks, building and building. I've been catching myself clenching and unclenching my hands, pulling my hair, and since Liz made me aware of my rocking back and forth, I've caught myself doing that too. It's also getting harder and harder to breathe, and I either feel like I'm going to explode and flip a table all Jesus style or just collapse on the ground crying uncontrollably. Haven't QUITE done either of those, just ended up crying on my floor. This is really hard for me, a real test... I haven't been faced with anxiety or anger like this since TK. It doesn't help that it's November, which means I now get to face the 2 hardest months of my year.
And also, because life isn't awesome enough, my nightmares are back. In varying degrees of intensity, but still. They're back. From having to experience everyone closest to me laughing at me/humiliating me to seeing all of my successful college friends pitying me to reliving my real-life nightmares of abuse and rape, nights are once again terrifying. :(
And I'm crying again! 3 times in one day. Oh boy. I have to work 9 hours tomorrow, all day with the woman that hates me. This is going to be really hard...please send good energy my way. Or random positive text messages, those work too. And Vic we should probably hang out soon, I miss you.
This is Halloween! This is Halloween!
So, a planned night of watching bad movies turned into a crazy spontaneous night. Somehow "movie night" turned into 2 1/2 hours around Lincoln Park going nuts. And also, if you see a zebra onesie, you must buy said zebra onesie. I can't get over how awesome we are.
I DO wish, however, that I could have pulled THIS off:
I DO wish, however, that I could have pulled THIS off:
And now, unfortunately, it is November. Not many wonderful things happen in November. Hopefully I can find someone to come spend Thanksgiving with me and my giant psycho family. Couldn't it just be Halloween forever?
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Am I here for a day or forever?
I have to write this before I forget it. Damn I am REALLY coming clean about my messed up thoughts.
I thought of another reason why I might want people to think that I'm sicker than I am. Or AM I. in fact, sicker than I think I am? Both? Although WANTING people to think that I'm sicker IS pretty fucked, so...wow I just confused myself. ANYWAY. So. This came to me on the airplane (oh yeah, I'm home..wooo..). I never had the kind of support that I do now in the past. I never had actual friends, or at least more than one or two, who checked up on me, who cared about me, who checked up on me, who liked me for who I am, etc. I guess what I'm thinking is, I have to look like I'm still sick because if I don't, people will stop checking up on me or paying attention to me. I don't mean that I WANT that kind of attention, but since I was never used to people paying attention to me, I have been basking in its glory since I left TK. So if I look like everything is great and I'm doing well, then I won't be a priority, and people will stop asking about me or supporting me, because they have plenty of other people who need support more than I do. That makes sense to me, does anyone else follow? Wow I really am 50 shades of fucked up.
Now, to make this clear, I KNOW that this is a false illusion created by the codependent beast in my head that craves attention no matter what the reason. This beast still isn't convinced that things have changed, and so it needs me to latch onto others and keep them around at any cost. RATIONAL brain knows that I don't have to try, not anymore, because people actually like me, and I don't need to prove anything to keep them around and liking me. They will always be there, and as for the ones who do "leave" me, well, there is a reason behind it. And that reason is NOT that it was done to harm me. They're just not in my ultimate plan anymore.
Holy shit did that just come out of me? Shit! That came out of nowhere...I wonder if that knowledge will stay in my brain when that kind of situation inevitably arises. Hopefully it will stay and can empower rational brain, so maybe together we can beat the beast.
That's enough stream of conscious brilliance for one night. Agh I do NOT want to go back to work tomorrow. Maybe if I whine about it enough it will go away. That's how it works, right?
I thought of another reason why I might want people to think that I'm sicker than I am. Or AM I. in fact, sicker than I think I am? Both? Although WANTING people to think that I'm sicker IS pretty fucked, so...wow I just confused myself. ANYWAY. So. This came to me on the airplane (oh yeah, I'm home..wooo..). I never had the kind of support that I do now in the past. I never had actual friends, or at least more than one or two, who checked up on me, who cared about me, who checked up on me, who liked me for who I am, etc. I guess what I'm thinking is, I have to look like I'm still sick because if I don't, people will stop checking up on me or paying attention to me. I don't mean that I WANT that kind of attention, but since I was never used to people paying attention to me, I have been basking in its glory since I left TK. So if I look like everything is great and I'm doing well, then I won't be a priority, and people will stop asking about me or supporting me, because they have plenty of other people who need support more than I do. That makes sense to me, does anyone else follow? Wow I really am 50 shades of fucked up.
Now, to make this clear, I KNOW that this is a false illusion created by the codependent beast in my head that craves attention no matter what the reason. This beast still isn't convinced that things have changed, and so it needs me to latch onto others and keep them around at any cost. RATIONAL brain knows that I don't have to try, not anymore, because people actually like me, and I don't need to prove anything to keep them around and liking me. They will always be there, and as for the ones who do "leave" me, well, there is a reason behind it. And that reason is NOT that it was done to harm me. They're just not in my ultimate plan anymore.
Holy shit did that just come out of me? Shit! That came out of nowhere...I wonder if that knowledge will stay in my brain when that kind of situation inevitably arises. Hopefully it will stay and can empower rational brain, so maybe together we can beat the beast.
That's enough stream of conscious brilliance for one night. Agh I do NOT want to go back to work tomorrow. Maybe if I whine about it enough it will go away. That's how it works, right?
Friday, October 26, 2012
Tell her that I miss our little talks
I've been reading Jena's book Hollow all week, and I keep getting insight to my own...issues...as I read. I read a part today that helped me to clarify what I [think] I was trying to get across last blog, and it also fits with that post's title, so I'm PRETTY sure that this could be the key.
"And why is normal such a bad word? What does looking normal mean?"
"It means no one will know anything is wrong with me."
(pg. 186)
Is that it? Is that the key to why I'm staying sick? Is it because I WANT to, or I want people's pity?
Epiphany. Maybe I want people to know that something's wrong with me...because if they don't, then how will they help me when hell breaks loose? If they don't, then how could they respond when I go nuts?
I really don't think it's because I want attention. I guess I want...predictability? I have an issue with future predicting/catastrophizing, maybe this little bit of control makes me think that I will have someone, no matter what situation I'm in, who can take care of me?
This just popped into my head, I guess I'll have to do some thinking about it. And soon, because I'm sure I'll be grilled on it at my session on Monday. Hmm.
And now, a question. I understand how to accept the past, because it's over and done with and it's not changing. How do you accept the present? This isn't even future predicting... Basically, a very dear friend of mine from TK is drinking herself to death. She has no way out. Her liver is failing; her stomach is distended to the size of a 3rd trimester pregnant woman. Her symptoms exactly mirror my Aunt Noreen's before she died. I don't even have time/money to visit her. I can't just sit back and watch her disease kill her. What do I doooooo :(
"And why is normal such a bad word? What does looking normal mean?"
"It means no one will know anything is wrong with me."
(pg. 186)
Is that it? Is that the key to why I'm staying sick? Is it because I WANT to, or I want people's pity?
Epiphany. Maybe I want people to know that something's wrong with me...because if they don't, then how will they help me when hell breaks loose? If they don't, then how could they respond when I go nuts?
I really don't think it's because I want attention. I guess I want...predictability? I have an issue with future predicting/catastrophizing, maybe this little bit of control makes me think that I will have someone, no matter what situation I'm in, who can take care of me?
This just popped into my head, I guess I'll have to do some thinking about it. And soon, because I'm sure I'll be grilled on it at my session on Monday. Hmm.
And now, a question. I understand how to accept the past, because it's over and done with and it's not changing. How do you accept the present? This isn't even future predicting... Basically, a very dear friend of mine from TK is drinking herself to death. She has no way out. Her liver is failing; her stomach is distended to the size of a 3rd trimester pregnant woman. Her symptoms exactly mirror my Aunt Noreen's before she died. I don't even have time/money to visit her. I can't just sit back and watch her disease kill her. What do I doooooo :(
Thursday, October 25, 2012
"Was I really seeking good...or just seeking attention?"
I'm not sure how my title fits, but it's from my favorite song in Wicked so deal with it.
((Side note because this just happened: MY COMPUTER IS LITERALLY FALLING APART. HOLY FUCK.))
Okay, back to business. Doing nothing all day gives me a lot, a LOT, of time to think. Facebook is great to keep up with all my TK friends; it also shows me how we are ALL struggling, all at the same time. It's really hard to see, honestly my heart breaks every day after reading about someone else ending up in the hospital, someone self-harming, someone in intense emotional pain who has no one outside of TK to confide in or find relief from. It makes my situation seem much more...ideal? That if I have to suffer, it's not so bad that I do because I have an awesome support system, an awesome therapist, and awesome friends in recovery all over Chicago (and the world, I suppose). I'm not writing this with the intention of comparing myself to anyone. I guess I just know how people feel, having no one to understand their pain, because that's how my life was before treatment. I had no one and my life was just a giant downward spiral going express to hell. I know how that is, I've BEEN there. So it hurts me so much to see these people whom I genuinely love in that same situation. It hurts even more that there's nothing I can do about it. I do the best I can, I lend support, I listen, I skype at all hours of the night, but I know, again from experience, that there's only so much that just talking can do. It's not so bad for my friends here in Chicago, I can at least offer to see them or take them out or just distract them. My heart HURTS.
So, on to my point for even starting this post. I'm wondering how much I'm actually "suffering," and how much I just feel like I am because everyone I know is suffering. My life, externally, is pretty fucking awesome right now (minus the living situation)...I have a job that I'm awesome at, even if I dislike myself for doing what I do, I have so many friends, so much support, my mom is awesome, Jim and Vicky are awesome, and I'm in fucking California right now. I use the word "awesome" waaaay too much. Anyway. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this...do I need to differentiate between what I'm really feeling and what I think I'm feeling, or think I SHOULD be feeling? Or is my situation completely valid and legit and I should stop questioning myself? I know the answer to that...I'm not coming across clear enough, agh.
Come on brain, get with it. This probably also won't be exactly what I want to say, but...am I thinking that I'm sick because I think I SHOULD be sick, given what everyone around me is going through? That's closer to what I mean. I think. I DON'T KNOW! :( Maybe I think it's unacceptable to enjoy life when all my friends are unhappy? No, I don't think that. Do I? Fuck me. What the fuck is going on. Usually writing my confusing thoughts down helps me clarify them, but this just has me even more confused. And now I'm frustrated because I still don't know what's going on and I feel like I just wasted your time and mine by writing this. I'm sorry you read it, whoever you are. This is the end of my post.
((Side note because this just happened: MY COMPUTER IS LITERALLY FALLING APART. HOLY FUCK.))
Okay, back to business. Doing nothing all day gives me a lot, a LOT, of time to think. Facebook is great to keep up with all my TK friends; it also shows me how we are ALL struggling, all at the same time. It's really hard to see, honestly my heart breaks every day after reading about someone else ending up in the hospital, someone self-harming, someone in intense emotional pain who has no one outside of TK to confide in or find relief from. It makes my situation seem much more...ideal? That if I have to suffer, it's not so bad that I do because I have an awesome support system, an awesome therapist, and awesome friends in recovery all over Chicago (and the world, I suppose). I'm not writing this with the intention of comparing myself to anyone. I guess I just know how people feel, having no one to understand their pain, because that's how my life was before treatment. I had no one and my life was just a giant downward spiral going express to hell. I know how that is, I've BEEN there. So it hurts me so much to see these people whom I genuinely love in that same situation. It hurts even more that there's nothing I can do about it. I do the best I can, I lend support, I listen, I skype at all hours of the night, but I know, again from experience, that there's only so much that just talking can do. It's not so bad for my friends here in Chicago, I can at least offer to see them or take them out or just distract them. My heart HURTS.
So, on to my point for even starting this post. I'm wondering how much I'm actually "suffering," and how much I just feel like I am because everyone I know is suffering. My life, externally, is pretty fucking awesome right now (minus the living situation)...I have a job that I'm awesome at, even if I dislike myself for doing what I do, I have so many friends, so much support, my mom is awesome, Jim and Vicky are awesome, and I'm in fucking California right now. I use the word "awesome" waaaay too much. Anyway. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this...do I need to differentiate between what I'm really feeling and what I think I'm feeling, or think I SHOULD be feeling? Or is my situation completely valid and legit and I should stop questioning myself? I know the answer to that...I'm not coming across clear enough, agh.
Come on brain, get with it. This probably also won't be exactly what I want to say, but...am I thinking that I'm sick because I think I SHOULD be sick, given what everyone around me is going through? That's closer to what I mean. I think. I DON'T KNOW! :( Maybe I think it's unacceptable to enjoy life when all my friends are unhappy? No, I don't think that. Do I? Fuck me. What the fuck is going on. Usually writing my confusing thoughts down helps me clarify them, but this just has me even more confused. And now I'm frustrated because I still don't know what's going on and I feel like I just wasted your time and mine by writing this. I'm sorry you read it, whoever you are. This is the end of my post.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Blah. BLAH. I wish I could say I was having more fun/less stress on my vacation. Unfortunately, my father insists that we only go on vacations where he can sit out at a pool doing nothing all day. In other words, doing what he does all day at home, only in a warmer climate. Well that's all well and good for him, but those of us contending with disorders know all too well that idle minds are the devil's playground. I think I actually wrote a poem when I was hospitalized one of the many times with a line that read, "If idle minds are the devil's playground, mine is a fucking theme park." I do my best writing when I'm angry/depressed/especially cynical. I'm actually okay when I'm by the pool...I keep covered up or under water and work on my fantastic tan (thank God I didn't inherit my mom's pale Irish complexion). I read, I listen to my music, I pontificate the meaning of life. That's a lie, I just wanted to use the word "pontificate." Maybe the sun blazes all my thoughts out of my head when I'm out there? I don't know. It's a minor reprieve from the rest of the day. I wake up in the morning morning and I'm faced with food and my parents eating. My mom keeps saying, "You have to eat something! Have some fruit, have a bagel..." I don't want to eat, but I also don't want my parents to think anything's wrong, so I eat. And then I feel like shit about it until I get hungry again, which makes me feel like shit even more.
Then I have my blissful, brain-numbing couple of hours in the sun. And yes, my tan is coming along nicely. After I leave the pool, I go back up to my room before my parents (I get sick of the sun rather quickly), and I see our kitchen of food. So I get in bed and sleep until I have to shower and get ready for--wait for it--MORE FOOD.
Every day this week I have acted on behaviors. I've gotten myself pretty drunk a couple times. I keep purging. I was so upset with myself yesterday after lunch that I made my dad pull over at some random gas station in the middle of the mountains so I could "go to the bathroom." I don't like these behaviors, I don't like that they make me feel so much better, and I really don't like lying to my parents.
I'm slipping. I'm slipping fast and hard. Ed has taken over ALL logical thinking in my brain. He has rerouted every thought to bypass the recovery-oriented part of my brain, and he just stands there, leaning against a bar, drink in his hand, smirking. One of those smirks that people do that just makes you want to jack them in the face.
So, with all of that going on, now the worry center of my brain (that looks like Pain and Panic in Hercules when they're worried about Hades finding out that Hercules lived) is telling me that I'll be home in 3 days, and then I go back to work and therapy and everything outside of my head that brings me stress.
This post is annoying me. It's so whiny and redundant. Ugh. I'm going to bed.
Then I have my blissful, brain-numbing couple of hours in the sun. And yes, my tan is coming along nicely. After I leave the pool, I go back up to my room before my parents (I get sick of the sun rather quickly), and I see our kitchen of food. So I get in bed and sleep until I have to shower and get ready for--wait for it--MORE FOOD.
Every day this week I have acted on behaviors. I've gotten myself pretty drunk a couple times. I keep purging. I was so upset with myself yesterday after lunch that I made my dad pull over at some random gas station in the middle of the mountains so I could "go to the bathroom." I don't like these behaviors, I don't like that they make me feel so much better, and I really don't like lying to my parents.
I'm slipping. I'm slipping fast and hard. Ed has taken over ALL logical thinking in my brain. He has rerouted every thought to bypass the recovery-oriented part of my brain, and he just stands there, leaning against a bar, drink in his hand, smirking. One of those smirks that people do that just makes you want to jack them in the face.
So, with all of that going on, now the worry center of my brain (that looks like Pain and Panic in Hercules when they're worried about Hades finding out that Hercules lived) is telling me that I'll be home in 3 days, and then I go back to work and therapy and everything outside of my head that brings me stress.
This post is annoying me. It's so whiny and redundant. Ugh. I'm going to bed.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
I'm Your Hate When You Want Love
Right now, today, I am completely bogged down my my eating disorder. My dad has a TON of frequent flyer miles left over from when he traveled a ton at his old job many years ago, so we got to fly to Palm Desert California FREE. It was pretty sweet. First class, however, gets a meal on a long flight. They served this disgusting nasty vile thing called steak, and despite how bad it was, I ate it. I ate that and I left the nice healthy salad. I ate the bread, and I left the green beans. I felt awful after, it was like I couldn't stop. Addicted to nasty shit apparently as long as it's not healthy for me. Then they brought out a nice oatmeal cookie, which I ate half of, then started crying and gave it to my dad. I cried so hard, so ashamed of what I did. Not even the mimosa helped me out (yeah, I drank). So I went to the gross airplane bathroom and cried more because recovery was fighting Ed, and I was caught in the middle of the battle to purge or to sit with all this food in me. I was able to resist. When we got to the place, we checked in and then had to wait 3 hours for our rooms to be ready. With nowhere to go, we sat by the pool, where I had another drink. Drink and a half if you include what I finished of my mom's. We ordered appetizers to share. Did I eat from the veggie tray? No. I ate a corner of the quesadilla instead. All I could see were beautiful people walking around in their swimsuits or tanning by the pool, and all I could think of was how I am the fattest one here. This isn't like a 90lb girl thinking she's fat, no matter how convinced Ed has her, this is TRUE! So I cried more. Finally we got into our villa and I laid in bed while my parents got groceries for the week. Then we went out to dinner (SO MUCH FUCKING FOOD FOR ONE DAY) and got pizza. I didn't cry this time, because Ed took over recovery, and kept me reassured. I ate a lot. Then I came back to the villa and broke my 4 month streak, and I purged.
Everyone keeps calling me brave. They tell me how brave I am for fighting, how strong I am for choosing life. I don't feel brave. I feel afraid, SO afraid, like the girl who used to be strong is now cowering in a corner crying and trying not to be seen. That little girl is really glad that Ed is here to take control. I don't feel strong. I feel incredibly weak, actually. The little girl is glad that she doesn't have to fight right now, and she's feeling so much shame for NOT fighting. It weighs heavy, so heavy. It's too much, and at some point she decided to give up and let Ed take over her life. I'm not really talking about myself in third person...kinda. Right now, recovery Julie IS that little girl in the corner. By the way, it's a dark corner in a brick alley covered in soot, and it's raining. Hard. Anyone would run from that image, right? The picture I see so clearly, however, is enticing. That little girl is crying in the dark and the rain and the dirt, but she's also really skinny. Like, skeletal. This is such a dichotomy in my head, and I know the "correct" answers, I know what the difference between disorder and recovery is. It's not confusion I'm feeling. It's mostly, I think, shame. Like how you feel after you tell a lie to a really close friend. It eats at you until you either give in and cause chaos, or your friend finds out and calls you on it, causing chaos. Once you've told that lie, there's no ideal conclusion to the situation. If you have a soul and a conscience, that is.
I was reading Hollow by Jena Morrow on the airplane (REALLY bad choice given my state of mind) and she talks about how her first memories of feeling fat were at age 3. I remember being about 4, when I went from a children's size 6 to a 6X. I'm not even sure I know what the X stood for, I just remember thinking, "I'm supposed to be a size 6. 6X means I'm bigger than everyone else. And I'm not taller than them, so it must mean I'm fatter." Shit, dude. That's the little girl that cowers in the dark alleys of my brain. I feel so bad for her. I both want to help her get better, and I want to look like her so at least we can be skinny together, no matter how we feel, we'd at least look good.
Hey, I'm your life, I'm the one who takes you there. Hey, I'm your life, I'm the one who's there. They, they betray, I'm your only true friend now. They, they'll betray, I'm forever there.
Everyone keeps calling me brave. They tell me how brave I am for fighting, how strong I am for choosing life. I don't feel brave. I feel afraid, SO afraid, like the girl who used to be strong is now cowering in a corner crying and trying not to be seen. That little girl is really glad that Ed is here to take control. I don't feel strong. I feel incredibly weak, actually. The little girl is glad that she doesn't have to fight right now, and she's feeling so much shame for NOT fighting. It weighs heavy, so heavy. It's too much, and at some point she decided to give up and let Ed take over her life. I'm not really talking about myself in third person...kinda. Right now, recovery Julie IS that little girl in the corner. By the way, it's a dark corner in a brick alley covered in soot, and it's raining. Hard. Anyone would run from that image, right? The picture I see so clearly, however, is enticing. That little girl is crying in the dark and the rain and the dirt, but she's also really skinny. Like, skeletal. This is such a dichotomy in my head, and I know the "correct" answers, I know what the difference between disorder and recovery is. It's not confusion I'm feeling. It's mostly, I think, shame. Like how you feel after you tell a lie to a really close friend. It eats at you until you either give in and cause chaos, or your friend finds out and calls you on it, causing chaos. Once you've told that lie, there's no ideal conclusion to the situation. If you have a soul and a conscience, that is.
I was reading Hollow by Jena Morrow on the airplane (REALLY bad choice given my state of mind) and she talks about how her first memories of feeling fat were at age 3. I remember being about 4, when I went from a children's size 6 to a 6X. I'm not even sure I know what the X stood for, I just remember thinking, "I'm supposed to be a size 6. 6X means I'm bigger than everyone else. And I'm not taller than them, so it must mean I'm fatter." Shit, dude. That's the little girl that cowers in the dark alleys of my brain. I feel so bad for her. I both want to help her get better, and I want to look like her so at least we can be skinny together, no matter how we feel, we'd at least look good.
You, you're my mask, you're my cover, my shelter. You, you're my mask, you're the one who's blamed. Do, do my work, do my dirty work, scapegoat. Do, do my work, for you're the one who's shamed.
Hey, I'm your life, I'm the one who took you there.
Hey, I'm your life, and I no longer care.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Don't be a drag, just be a queen
Came out (bisexual) on facebook. This is the part where I down some valium to cope with the fallout. I'M JUST KIDDING. But seriously....this could be a shitstorm. Fuck...courage is hard.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
A little more action, please.
My meds are kicking in so I'll keep this short. I've got a lot to think about. These "daymares." Coming to terms with my past, in retrospect, was much easier. The past is done, it is absolute, it's not changing. It's the future that I'm afraid of. So many possible scenarios with so many possible outcomes, ugh. And it's not something that I can predict the result of. For example, if you're in a plane that's crashing down, the result is you die. Morbid, I know. But absolute. This...I don't know. And I can't know, I will never know until the present catches up with the future. I know that I can't change anything, and that fretting about it only brings me anxiety and fear. So how do I make my subconscious shut up?
There are other things on my mind too but I need to sleep. Gotta get up early tomorrow to take care of a shit ton of crap to do before my trip. Holy shit my room...I don't even know where to start. How can I pack clothes when I can't find the right ones because they're ALL OVER MY FUCKING FLOOR!? Fuck. Fuck fuck. Oh well, no sense in worrying about it now, right? Ugh. Goodnight friends.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Skyfall Is Where We Start
The majority of my blog titles are song lyrics, I decided I like that. I am so fucking exhausted. Worked 9 hours today! It was a good day...good to finally be back for a full shift, and while my feet are screaming all WTF WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO US, I did awesome today. I FUCKING RULE AT MY JOB. 2 of my repeat clients came in because they heard I was back :) I sold almost 1000, on a fucking TUESDAY. I need people to open credit cards, that's the ONLY part I'm lacking in. I hate asking people to do that! I make such awesome relationships with my clients, and once I have to ask about that, all of the friendly comfort of the relationship is gone, and boom, I'm just another annoying sales clerk trying to jack people out of their money. All business, right? Ugh. I understand why we have to do it...doesn't mean I like it. I also got to bust out some of my Spanish skills. I'm glad I at least knew how to get out maquillage, con colore o claro, and sin grasa. And although I worked at TCF 3 years ago, I still get banking Spanish stuck in my head. Como quiere su dinero? Qual es su calle? Codigo secreto, por favor! And my most used Spanish phrase--MAS DESPASIO POR FAVOR!!!
I wonder if my GBF is out of rehab yet.
A good friend of mine from TK is back in the hospital :( I'm going to try to visit her on Thursday before I leave the state.
This is clearly the stream of conscious rambling of the exhausted.
SO, on that note...Good night!
Until next time, take care of yourselves...and each other!
(I think it's hilarious when people tell me that that's a cute line...if only they knew what it was from...)
I wonder if my GBF is out of rehab yet.
A good friend of mine from TK is back in the hospital :( I'm going to try to visit her on Thursday before I leave the state.
This is clearly the stream of conscious rambling of the exhausted.
SO, on that note...Good night!
Until next time, take care of yourselves...and each other!
(I think it's hilarious when people tell me that that's a cute line...if only they knew what it was from...)
Monday, October 15, 2012
Why I Tell My Story.
Hey folks. Hope you all had a good Monday.
I was thinking about writing this post a while ago and I kept forgetting, but something happened today that seemed like a little reminder from God :)
People often ask me why I am so open about my disorders, experiences and traumas. They ask how I could possibly talk so freely about the horrors that have happened to me and the hell I've been through, because it simply must re-traumatize me every time. False. It's still not a breeze to talk about it, but it has become much easier. It has become a living tribute to how someone can hit rock bottom in the depths of hell, and still push to reclaim life. More significantly, to me, it has become so very important. Today, a friend opened up to me about her eating disorder, kept secret from the world, and her struggles with it. She remarked that she was so grateful (paraphrasing) to have someone to talk to who understands, without judgement.
It is so important to have someone to talk to about your struggles! Even if it's not treatment, not a therapist. SOMEONE who understands can make a world of difference. Every day we hear stories about people who have suffered mercilessly with depression, bullying, eating disorders, body image disorders, trauma, and so much more, who have died and taken their lives because they had no one to talk to about it. Every time you see it on the news, you hear friends and family saying, "We had no clue, this isn't like her at all..." How well do you think you know everyone around you? Every time I have been hospitalized, someone has said "Why? She's always so happy and upbeat!"
And so, to my point. Why I tell my story. I no longer carry shame from my past; my depression, my self-harm, my eating disorders, my sexual abuse and my rape. I used to be disgusted with myself, finding relief only in hurting myself or making myself look as ugly as I felt. I thought I was damaged goods, that no one could ever love someone with so much shit in her past. But what I've learned is that my past is just that--the past. Things were done to me, things happened to me, and diagnoses were thrown at me. They don't define who I AM. Not anymore, not ever.
I tell my story not only for my benefit, but for the hope that it may show others that there is no shame in talking about their stories. People need to know that there IS life after suffering. I found it, and it's the most amazing thing. It's more amazing than any life I could ever have imagined. There are nowhere NEAR enough resources for women to find a safe place to open up. Especially since so many disorders are surfacing at such young ages now. The fact that people are aware of this dilemma means that we are mildly heading in the right direction, but people are still finding these things out much too late. I went to treatment with so many girls who had eating disorders, traumas, self-harm and abuse very early in life, many disorders manifesting very young, around 10 years old. They didn't know what they were doing or the reasons behind it until they were older, weighing 70 pounds and wasting away, or with scars covering their bodies, or attempting suicide. In the worst case scenarios, succeeding. This must stop!
I am not happy with the things that have happened to me, but I am PROUD to be where I am today. I met so many women at TK who went through hell, and I kept thinking, "I had no idea. If I was her, I would be dead from what she went through." The truth is, I AM one of those women, one who figuratively lied down on the highway and prayed to be taken away from this life. And here I am, writing my story, unashamed. If I can inspire ONE person to come forward with her story to seek help before it is too late, then I have succeeded.
Please please PLEASE, if you are struggling, TALK to someone. Talk to me, talk to family, talk to a therapist. Call an anonymous hotline. Get. Help. While there are not enough, there ARE resources and there IS help out there, you simply have to ask.
If anyone wants to talk, please tell me. I may not always be mentally/emotionally available to be much help, but it's something. Something is better than nothing; better than suffering in silence, as I did for 20 years.
Please, be kind to yourselves and be kind to each other.
You may not believe me now, but please never forget: YOU ARE WORTH IT.
xoxo <3
I was thinking about writing this post a while ago and I kept forgetting, but something happened today that seemed like a little reminder from God :)
People often ask me why I am so open about my disorders, experiences and traumas. They ask how I could possibly talk so freely about the horrors that have happened to me and the hell I've been through, because it simply must re-traumatize me every time. False. It's still not a breeze to talk about it, but it has become much easier. It has become a living tribute to how someone can hit rock bottom in the depths of hell, and still push to reclaim life. More significantly, to me, it has become so very important. Today, a friend opened up to me about her eating disorder, kept secret from the world, and her struggles with it. She remarked that she was so grateful (paraphrasing) to have someone to talk to who understands, without judgement.
It is so important to have someone to talk to about your struggles! Even if it's not treatment, not a therapist. SOMEONE who understands can make a world of difference. Every day we hear stories about people who have suffered mercilessly with depression, bullying, eating disorders, body image disorders, trauma, and so much more, who have died and taken their lives because they had no one to talk to about it. Every time you see it on the news, you hear friends and family saying, "We had no clue, this isn't like her at all..." How well do you think you know everyone around you? Every time I have been hospitalized, someone has said "Why? She's always so happy and upbeat!"
And so, to my point. Why I tell my story. I no longer carry shame from my past; my depression, my self-harm, my eating disorders, my sexual abuse and my rape. I used to be disgusted with myself, finding relief only in hurting myself or making myself look as ugly as I felt. I thought I was damaged goods, that no one could ever love someone with so much shit in her past. But what I've learned is that my past is just that--the past. Things were done to me, things happened to me, and diagnoses were thrown at me. They don't define who I AM. Not anymore, not ever.
I tell my story not only for my benefit, but for the hope that it may show others that there is no shame in talking about their stories. People need to know that there IS life after suffering. I found it, and it's the most amazing thing. It's more amazing than any life I could ever have imagined. There are nowhere NEAR enough resources for women to find a safe place to open up. Especially since so many disorders are surfacing at such young ages now. The fact that people are aware of this dilemma means that we are mildly heading in the right direction, but people are still finding these things out much too late. I went to treatment with so many girls who had eating disorders, traumas, self-harm and abuse very early in life, many disorders manifesting very young, around 10 years old. They didn't know what they were doing or the reasons behind it until they were older, weighing 70 pounds and wasting away, or with scars covering their bodies, or attempting suicide. In the worst case scenarios, succeeding. This must stop!
I am not happy with the things that have happened to me, but I am PROUD to be where I am today. I met so many women at TK who went through hell, and I kept thinking, "I had no idea. If I was her, I would be dead from what she went through." The truth is, I AM one of those women, one who figuratively lied down on the highway and prayed to be taken away from this life. And here I am, writing my story, unashamed. If I can inspire ONE person to come forward with her story to seek help before it is too late, then I have succeeded.
Please please PLEASE, if you are struggling, TALK to someone. Talk to me, talk to family, talk to a therapist. Call an anonymous hotline. Get. Help. While there are not enough, there ARE resources and there IS help out there, you simply have to ask.
If anyone wants to talk, please tell me. I may not always be mentally/emotionally available to be much help, but it's something. Something is better than nothing; better than suffering in silence, as I did for 20 years.
Please, be kind to yourselves and be kind to each other.
You may not believe me now, but please never forget: YOU ARE WORTH IT.
xoxo <3
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare
Fitting title, as it's almost Halloween, and it has to do with nightmares. I've told a couple people (aka facebook) about my "daymare" problem. I don't see Mark til Wednesday, so I'll tell him then. For now, it may be therapeutic to get the images that haunt my mind OUT of my head and onto this plain white space.
Most of the things running through my head aren't necessarily about the perpetrators of my trauma, but about people and events surrounding that person. As Thanksgiving approaches (yeah I know it's far away, tell that to my PTSD), there is a lot of panic growing inside me. My family is wonderful. Thanksgiving has always been the best. Until the memories resurfaced, and the subconscious terror emerged in my dreams. Last year was the first year it was truly horrible, at least since the years that the trauma took place. For those who don't know, we have these family friends who have kids, and one of them sexually abused me for at least 3 years, starting when I was around 8 or 9. Last year, to get through it, I drank 2 bottles of wine and became this gregarious, insane tornado of insults and inappropriateness. Post-TK, I know that even though I never had a problem with drinking, I can't do it anymore, or it will rapidly replace the other behaviors I am trying to get rid of (self-harm, ED, etic). I also know who I am now, and that I don't need to resort to some crazy nutcase who has to be the center of attention no matter who gets thrown under the bus in the process. That's NOT the kind of attention I want. Not anymore, anyway. So there are 2 of my reliable fallback "coping skills" that I can't/won't use anymore. Not if I can help it. I don't even know if he'll be there, he wasn't last year and I got drunk and stupid, I don't know if I'll get through it if he is there.
So, daymare. I keep getting these flashes, these future predicting/catastrophizing flashes, where he comes in with his family, and everyone starts screaming at me, telling me I'm a liar and it never happened, while he stands in the back smirking. I think one of my biggest fears about opening up about my story is that someone won't believe me, and will invalidate the shit out of me by spreading it around, or screaming at me.
The other flashes are worse. I started having these ones while I was living at Mag, as my TK discharge date and my return to work date got closer. I keep having this image of my rapist coming into my shop. There's one flash where he just comes in and we make eye contact, and the rest of the flash includes me breaking down in the spa room, heaving, convulsing and sobbing, immobile on the floor, while all of my coworkers rush in and just stare at me on the floor. The other one, like my Thanksgiving flashes, includes the rapist coming in with an army of everyone who was at C's apartment that night (all of whom I can, unfortunately, still see in perfect detail in my head). They all come in screaming at me that I'm a liar, and I'm ruining other people's lives, and I made everything up for attention and they're going to sue me for defamation of character, or some legal term that they scream at me in my head.
I have to deal with intense anxiety now every day, before every shift, and the night before I work, which keeps me from sleep, and aids my nightmares when I sleep. So I can't stop wondering...what if he DOES come into my shop? I don't have a clue how to prepare for that possibility. I told Mark this fear once, I think when I was still on Pine...he said, "So what if you see him? Are you going to keep giving him power over you?" Obviously I went NO but the scared little girl in my head keeps screaming. I don't know how to take THAT kind of power back. It's not something I can cope with through exposure therapy, I just don't know. Even outside of the flashes, that thought terrifies me. :(
So that's what's going on in my head right now. Maybe my session on Wednesday will bring some insight. Fingers crossed.
Most of the things running through my head aren't necessarily about the perpetrators of my trauma, but about people and events surrounding that person. As Thanksgiving approaches (yeah I know it's far away, tell that to my PTSD), there is a lot of panic growing inside me. My family is wonderful. Thanksgiving has always been the best. Until the memories resurfaced, and the subconscious terror emerged in my dreams. Last year was the first year it was truly horrible, at least since the years that the trauma took place. For those who don't know, we have these family friends who have kids, and one of them sexually abused me for at least 3 years, starting when I was around 8 or 9. Last year, to get through it, I drank 2 bottles of wine and became this gregarious, insane tornado of insults and inappropriateness. Post-TK, I know that even though I never had a problem with drinking, I can't do it anymore, or it will rapidly replace the other behaviors I am trying to get rid of (self-harm, ED, etic). I also know who I am now, and that I don't need to resort to some crazy nutcase who has to be the center of attention no matter who gets thrown under the bus in the process. That's NOT the kind of attention I want. Not anymore, anyway. So there are 2 of my reliable fallback "coping skills" that I can't/won't use anymore. Not if I can help it. I don't even know if he'll be there, he wasn't last year and I got drunk and stupid, I don't know if I'll get through it if he is there.
So, daymare. I keep getting these flashes, these future predicting/catastrophizing flashes, where he comes in with his family, and everyone starts screaming at me, telling me I'm a liar and it never happened, while he stands in the back smirking. I think one of my biggest fears about opening up about my story is that someone won't believe me, and will invalidate the shit out of me by spreading it around, or screaming at me.
The other flashes are worse. I started having these ones while I was living at Mag, as my TK discharge date and my return to work date got closer. I keep having this image of my rapist coming into my shop. There's one flash where he just comes in and we make eye contact, and the rest of the flash includes me breaking down in the spa room, heaving, convulsing and sobbing, immobile on the floor, while all of my coworkers rush in and just stare at me on the floor. The other one, like my Thanksgiving flashes, includes the rapist coming in with an army of everyone who was at C's apartment that night (all of whom I can, unfortunately, still see in perfect detail in my head). They all come in screaming at me that I'm a liar, and I'm ruining other people's lives, and I made everything up for attention and they're going to sue me for defamation of character, or some legal term that they scream at me in my head.
I have to deal with intense anxiety now every day, before every shift, and the night before I work, which keeps me from sleep, and aids my nightmares when I sleep. So I can't stop wondering...what if he DOES come into my shop? I don't have a clue how to prepare for that possibility. I told Mark this fear once, I think when I was still on Pine...he said, "So what if you see him? Are you going to keep giving him power over you?" Obviously I went NO but the scared little girl in my head keeps screaming. I don't know how to take THAT kind of power back. It's not something I can cope with through exposure therapy, I just don't know. Even outside of the flashes, that thought terrifies me. :(
So that's what's going on in my head right now. Maybe my session on Wednesday will bring some insight. Fingers crossed.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner.
What up. Remember that time I said I was super busy but would update as soon as I could? That was 2 months ago? Oh...my bad. Where to begin?
I finished my programming at TK this past Wednesday, the 12th. I "graduated," as it were. MOST EXPENSIVE GRADUATION EVER. Seriously, in the time I was there I could have paid for 3 years at Wesleyan.But AND you know what? WORTH IT. I wish I could fit my entire experience in this little post, but I figure most of you don't have another 18 weeks to read about my rehab escapades.
For those of you new to my blog, I will tell you why I was IN rehab (rehab is easier than saying "residential treatment center" over and over). I am not an alcoholic, and I am not an addict. I don't drink anymore, and aside from a few disappointing romps with pot, I have never touched drugs. Most people think that that's all that rehab is, and so those most people are very quick to judge and make assumptions. WRONG! I was at Timberline Knolls for many reasons. First I'll rattle off the official psychomumbojumbo diagnoses. I suffer from major depressive disorder, type II bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder (this one explains a LOT), generalized anxiety disorder, self-injury, an "unspecified" eating disorder (aka bits and pieces of all the finer parts...), and post-traumatic stress disorder from over 20 years of physical, emotional and sexual abuse, as well as a brutal rape less than 2 years ago. So I hope that, for anyone who DID come here to judge me, you're thinking, "Oh shit, I'm a terrible human being." You're not terrible, just a flawed human. If you continue to judge me, well...I know that only my God can truly judge me, and have fun when he's judging you. :)
So that's that. I was residential at TK for 2 months. Then I did PHP there from home for 6 weeks. Home, however, was NOT an environment conducive to my recovery, so I then moved to Magnolia House (Mag), which is PHP but you live at a house near TK, so you have more structure and more support. I lived at Mag for 4 weeks. Home is STILL very far from "awesome," but I suppose I'm far more equipped to handle it now than I was 10 weeks ago. I start IOP tomorrow at Good Samaritan for 2 weeks, and I'll be back at work in 1-2 weeks. Life is comin', and it's comin' fast. I don't know, and I don't WANT to know, where I'd be if I hadn't been lucky enough to go to TK. I shudder to think of the alternative...
Anyway! So I thought I'd pick this thing up again as a type of recovery blog. I need to get back to this journaling thing, and I'm too lazy for manual writing, so here I am.
This blog is really interesting...it's amazing to look at all of my posts from the midst of depression/suicidal ideation. I don't want to think about those times, but I need to remind myself of where I was in order to see where I'm going.
To close...TK was the best decision I have ever made. EVER. I dropped almost ALL of my past friends right before I went in to treatment, and came OUT of treatment with the best friends I could ever have imagined. Friends who like ME. Not my car or my money or my people-pleasing codependent tendencies, but ME. Honestly, it's WEIRD. These people know EVERYTHING about me...and still want to be around me! BIZARRO. So, TK, thanks for the memories. I've finally gone a couple days without crying, yay! And I haven't called or texted Mark begging to let me come back since Thursday! I can't wait for alumni nights, where I get to see (almost) everyone I love so dearly. So to TK and everyone I met there: Thank you. I owe you my life.
God bless and good night.
And until next time, take care of yourselves...and each other!
I finished my programming at TK this past Wednesday, the 12th. I "graduated," as it were. MOST EXPENSIVE GRADUATION EVER. Seriously, in the time I was there I could have paid for 3 years at Wesleyan.
For those of you new to my blog, I will tell you why I was IN rehab (rehab is easier than saying "residential treatment center" over and over). I am not an alcoholic, and I am not an addict. I don't drink anymore, and aside from a few disappointing romps with pot, I have never touched drugs. Most people think that that's all that rehab is, and so those most people are very quick to judge and make assumptions. WRONG! I was at Timberline Knolls for many reasons. First I'll rattle off the official psychomumbojumbo diagnoses. I suffer from major depressive disorder, type II bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder (this one explains a LOT), generalized anxiety disorder, self-injury, an "unspecified" eating disorder (aka bits and pieces of all the finer parts...), and post-traumatic stress disorder from over 20 years of physical, emotional and sexual abuse, as well as a brutal rape less than 2 years ago. So I hope that, for anyone who DID come here to judge me, you're thinking, "Oh shit, I'm a terrible human being." You're not terrible, just a flawed human. If you continue to judge me, well...I know that only my God can truly judge me, and have fun when he's judging you. :)
So that's that. I was residential at TK for 2 months. Then I did PHP there from home for 6 weeks. Home, however, was NOT an environment conducive to my recovery, so I then moved to Magnolia House (Mag), which is PHP but you live at a house near TK, so you have more structure and more support. I lived at Mag for 4 weeks. Home is STILL very far from "awesome," but I suppose I'm far more equipped to handle it now than I was 10 weeks ago. I start IOP tomorrow at Good Samaritan for 2 weeks, and I'll be back at work in 1-2 weeks. Life is comin', and it's comin' fast. I don't know, and I don't WANT to know, where I'd be if I hadn't been lucky enough to go to TK. I shudder to think of the alternative...
Anyway! So I thought I'd pick this thing up again as a type of recovery blog. I need to get back to this journaling thing, and I'm too lazy for manual writing, so here I am.
This blog is really interesting...it's amazing to look at all of my posts from the midst of depression/suicidal ideation. I don't want to think about those times, but I need to remind myself of where I was in order to see where I'm going.
To close...TK was the best decision I have ever made. EVER. I dropped almost ALL of my past friends right before I went in to treatment, and came OUT of treatment with the best friends I could ever have imagined. Friends who like ME. Not my car or my money or my people-pleasing codependent tendencies, but ME. Honestly, it's WEIRD. These people know EVERYTHING about me...and still want to be around me! BIZARRO. So, TK, thanks for the memories. I've finally gone a couple days without crying, yay! And I haven't called or texted Mark begging to let me come back since Thursday! I can't wait for alumni nights, where I get to see (almost) everyone I love so dearly. So to TK and everyone I met there: Thank you. I owe you my life.
God bless and good night.
And until next time, take care of yourselves...and each other!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Whoa
So while at TK, we got to work with the Lemont Center for the Arts for an exhibit called the Honesty Project. We simply had to make art that was true and honest to ourselves. My painting was chosen, and is now featured on the TK facebook page. :)
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150975133607934&set=a.385834907933.168817.347377837933&type=1&theater
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150975133607934&set=a.385834907933.168817.347377837933&type=1&theater
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Bizzy
Have no fear, friends and loved ones. I WILL get around to updating. I'm just so unbelievably exhausted after a day at TK. Oy. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Summertime and the Livin's Easy
Well, it's not easy. Still busy as heck. Needless to say, I am officially HOME from 2 months of residential treatment at Timberline Knolls. It was FANTASTIC. I'm doing PHP there now, so I get there at 9:30, do all the usual programming and meals, and then leave around 8:30. I'd be a little lost if I didn't have this option of stepping down gradually. Plan is 6 weeks of PHP, then IOP probably at Good Sam. Again. :P But it'll be fun to see everyone there and show them how awesome I'm doing! Can't wait to get back to NAMI too. AND can't wait to go to MY church on Sunday! Can't wait to see Jim and Vicky and Laika and Griswald! Can't wait to see Diane and all my crazy cousins! This is my new life. New habits, new behaviors, new outlook on life, and a newly found love for myself. I'm really a different person. Kept all the good traits, out with the grudges, resentments, judgments, and self-hatred/hatred of life. It's so refreshing! It's a full-time job to keep it up, but when you live your whole life one way, it's going to take more than a couple of months to change completely. I learned to embrace my flaws, my past, and my traumas. They made me who I am today. And, if only for today, I love myself :) Dealing with some terrible body image issues...but getting through it. One day at a time!
Love you all, hope you're all well!
Love you all, hope you're all well!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Heart, don't fail me now!
Hello friends and loved ones. Guess who's coming home tomorrow! Insurance cut out 3 days ago (grrr) so I'm discharging tomorrow, then Friday I start PHP here at TK. I have a lot of mixed emotions. I'm extremely nervous...I don't think anyone is truly "ready" to leave this safe, cushy, controlled environment and dive back into the triggering unknown. I'm excited to go home and see my mom and my room and my CATS oh god my cats! My treatment team doesn't think I'm ready to go a full weekend at home though, since I was so unceremoniously dropped without notice, so I'm staying with Diane for a couple days. I can't wait to see her and the kids, and my brother and Vicky, and LAIKA, and I can't wait to meet Griswold! And holy shit I get to use my CELL PHONE!!! It's true, you don't know what you have til it's taken away, haha. I still get to go on Saturday's incentive outing though, so I get to go mini-golfing and movie watching with my Pine girls :) Since I know I'm going to Diane's I feel much more ready...as ready as I can be, I suppose. And it's not like I'm leaving here forever, I'll still come every day, I just get to go home at night. I was supposed to go on an outing with my Stress Management group to Little Red Schoolhouse today, but thankfully I have a family thing to go to. I say thankfully because we had to go there every year in girl scouts and it is BOOOOORIIIIIIING! Anyway my mind is a jumble right now...ahhh!!! OK well next time I update I might be at home... O.O
Later!
Later!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Diane!
Forgot to post this...oh Diane, the loveliest and best cousin in the entire world, I got your card today. Thank you so much!! Getting mail makes me so happy, and what you wrote was just so nice...thank you! And I agree it is ABSURD that we only see each other twice a year. Not OK. We'll work on that :)
THANK YOU!!! Love you! Say hi to Chris and the kids and your nutty brothers for me!
THANK YOU!!! Love you! Say hi to Chris and the kids and your nutty brothers for me!
It's a TK Life
Greetings! Today's another day. I talked with Mark (therapist) about the really crazy difficult stuff I processed yesterday, thinking I'd leave his office and want to jump in the swamp behind my lodge, but I actually feel better than ever! I came back to the lodge all smiles. I know this isn't the end of this business, it's really only just begun, but I'm taking huge steps here. This was a secret I've had for 15+ years and never told anyone, and never PLANNED on telling anyone, regarding my sexual abuse and the emotions surrounding it. It was something that haunted me ever since, but I was too ashamed and disgusted with myself to bring myself to talk about it. I'm still not gonna tell anyone outside of here (sorry charlies), but it was a GIANT step to get it out, especially to a male therapist. I also talked about my transference issues. I never really knew what transference was, let alone what it was for me, until I got here. I came to the realization that I idolize men who work in the mental health field (or who are just awesome about it) because it was all of the trust, understanding, compassion and validation that I never got from a father. SO I transfer those wishes onto therapists and counselors. It's not necessarily the greatest realization, but it definitely cleared things up, and Mark completely understood. Seriously, he's amazing. If he was gay he'd be even better than Marcus (O.O) haha. Actually he is better. They're both awesome let's not lie. Anyway...I've also gotten a LOT better at the whole interpersonal effectiveness thing, meaning how I relate to others, how I won't compromise my values, opinions or sense of self based on what I perceive that others around me expect. I really am my own person again. And as usual this session must be cut short because smoke break is almost over!
Once again, my address:
Timberline Knolls
Julie Boyer
Pine Lodge
40 Timberline Dr.
Lemont, IL 60439
AND if you want to call (please do!) the phone numbers are:
(630) 343-2361 (1-8)
Phone times:
6:30am--7:25am
11:00-11:30am
1:30-1:55pm
3:20-4:30pm
6:30-7:10pm
8:20-8:55pm
9:30-10:00pm
And my email is JCBoyer08@gmail.com
LOVE YOU ALL! :)
Once again, my address:
Timberline Knolls
Julie Boyer
Pine Lodge
40 Timberline Dr.
Lemont, IL 60439
AND if you want to call (please do!) the phone numbers are:
(630) 343-2361 (1-8)
Phone times:
6:30am--7:25am
11:00-11:30am
1:30-1:55pm
3:20-4:30pm
6:30-7:10pm
8:20-8:55pm
9:30-10:00pm
And my email is JCBoyer08@gmail.com
LOVE YOU ALL! :)
Monday, June 25, 2012
No One Ever Mentions Fear
Short post cause I gotta go out for smoke break. Having a rough day today...shared some intense stuff in process group that I had never told anyone, and honestly never PLANNED on telling anyone, surrounding my childhood traumas and sexual abuse. Promptly had a sobbing panic attack, psychiatrist said I "need to work through this" and "use those DBT skills" and other useless things to someone in the midst of panic. Eventually got a PRN and took a nap, then woke up to a BHS (behavioral health specialist) banging shit around in my room. I miss privacy. SO needless to say my anxiety is on overload, but I AM in fact using my skills, so go me. Now I have to drag all this stuff up tomorrow for my session with my (awesome) therapist. Way to work through the tough stuff, Julie! Yeaaaaah buddy. OK smoke time. Later loved ones.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Greetings from TK!
WHAT'S UP LOVERS!!! Yes, I am still at residential. I have gotten to the final phase, which means I'm allowed to do (limited) things on the computer! Good times. It's almost been 2 months, and it feels like I got here yesterday. This was the best choice I could have EVER made in my entire life. I have made SO much progress, I'm almost literally a completely new person. For the first time, I am comfortable with myself, and I can officially say I LOVE myself! AHHH!!! That makes me so happy. This place is definitely not without its drama and craziness, but I've grown so much...no more freak outs, no more constant judgement, no more crazy behaviors. I seriously feel like I know what I'm doing, and I know what I want from life, and I actually feel like I'm in a position to attain my meaningful life. I've never been so happy! I've stopped compromising who I am for other people, I've stopped CHANGING who I am for other people. I love myself, and I'm fine with the fact that not everyone else will. Screw 'em!
I STRONGLY recommend this place to any women out there who need it. My life is forever changed. :)
I'm a little upset that I can't go on facebook or AIM but I think I'll live. They're thinking possible discharge as early as next week! The plan is for me to go to Magnolia House, which is the TK transitional living program. There's a long wait list though, and they think my insurance will probably cut out soon, so if I don't get to Mag, I'll be doing PHP here. Basically I'd be doing the exact same program, eating here, etc., but I'd go home at night. Either way, I'm excited to get on with my life :)
I'll keep you all posted for sure. Special thanks to Chrissy, my mom told me how you've been asking her how I am, and I really appreciate it! Unfortunately they don't want us calling anyone besides family :( But still, thank you :D
If anyone wants to send me a lovely card (please do!) send to:
Timberline Knolls
Julie Boyer
Pine Lodge
40 Timberline Dr.
Lemont, IL 60439
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. :)
I STRONGLY recommend this place to any women out there who need it. My life is forever changed. :)
I'm a little upset that I can't go on facebook or AIM but I think I'll live. They're thinking possible discharge as early as next week! The plan is for me to go to Magnolia House, which is the TK transitional living program. There's a long wait list though, and they think my insurance will probably cut out soon, so if I don't get to Mag, I'll be doing PHP here. Basically I'd be doing the exact same program, eating here, etc., but I'd go home at night. Either way, I'm excited to get on with my life :)
I'll keep you all posted for sure. Special thanks to Chrissy, my mom told me how you've been asking her how I am, and I really appreciate it! Unfortunately they don't want us calling anyone besides family :( But still, thank you :D
If anyone wants to send me a lovely card (please do!) send to:
Timberline Knolls
Julie Boyer
Pine Lodge
40 Timberline Dr.
Lemont, IL 60439
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. :)
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Bye Bye Bye
I leave for Timberline in just about an hour. Hopefully the next time I'm on here I'll be much farther along the road to recovery! Thanks to those who follow me and support me. Mucho amore. XOXO
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Saturday, April 28, 2012
I Have Nothing
Good song, rest in peace dear Whitney.
I'm just speechless. Some people...I once again find myself letting how others feel about me determine how I feel about myself. Just can't seem to get it through my head that most people are assholes/bitches and aren't worth my time. Sad :(
“Approval is overrated. Approval and disapproval alike satisfy those who deliver it more than those who receive it.”
“In the lives of children, pumpkins turn into coaches, mice and rats turn into men. When we grow up, we realize it is far more common for men to turn into rats.”
Both quotes courtesy of Gregory Maguire
I'm just speechless. Some people...I once again find myself letting how others feel about me determine how I feel about myself. Just can't seem to get it through my head that most people are assholes/bitches and aren't worth my time. Sad :(
“Approval is overrated. Approval and disapproval alike satisfy those who deliver it more than those who receive it.”
“In the lives of children, pumpkins turn into coaches, mice and rats turn into men. When we grow up, we realize it is far more common for men to turn into rats.”
Both quotes courtesy of Gregory Maguire
Friday, April 27, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Bipolar 1s Have All the Fun.
I know that's not true. But if I have to have bipolar disorder, why do I have to have bipolar 2? Hypomania SUCKS. It's like having the energy and lack of needing sleep of mania, but you WANT to sleep! Couple that with INTENSE anxiety all day and boom, fun day! Plus hypomania doesn't FEEL good...you can still feel shitty and depressed and anxious and irritable all at the same time. I'm praying this isn't a long episode...I'm supposed to be weaning off of valium but I had to take a full dose tonight, praying it will force my body to sleep.
Still haven't heard from Timberline, which is DEFINITELY a huge part of the anxiety. (Please note, general daily stress is VERY different from an anxiety disorder. Call me when your pulse is 160--resting--and it feels like someone has an iron grip on your lungs.) Then the paranoia and nervous tics set in. I was actually kind of excited that I woke up at 5am, cause I thought well hey, I can watch 3 hours of Will and Grace at 7, then get all showered and pretty, then meet Greg for lunch! No such luck. Thanks mental illness, you're a real peach.
All these symptoms aside, I'm noticing my depression isn't rearing its ugly head too often, so my mind is in a better place to do some serious thinking about myself. While I can't always stop my automatic negative thoughts, I'm able to contradict them; to say Shut up, self, you are NOT worthless, you are NOT (always) annoying, and people DO like you! I guess it's part of the process of relearning to like, and then love, myself. They say you can't help or love anyone else until you help and love yourself. Well, I'm helping myself. And while it might be 3 steps forward 1 step back, day by day I get a little bit closer to believing in myself. I am not a failure, and everything I have set my mind to I have kicked ass at, so take that, depression. Suck it.
I need to love myself. I have so much love for others that I neglect myself. I hate this term but for lack of better words, I have a "crush," or "feelings for" someone, and I can't devote myself to anyone while neglecting myself. I can't depend on others to boost my mood, feed my ego and determine my self worth. That is MY job. Recovery is possible, but no one said it was fast or easy (or cheap). As long as I have support along the way, I truly believe I will get to where I want to be. No, there is no cure, but there is manageability and recovery. I like to imagine Rob Schneider in The Water Boy cheering me on. YOU CAN DO EET!
On that note of positive self-talk, I'm going to go attempt sleep. I have a range of things that need to be done tomorrow, most of which I'm not looking forward to...but hopefully I'll make it out to get my bushly eyebrows taken care of FINALLY!
Good night moon.
Still haven't heard from Timberline, which is DEFINITELY a huge part of the anxiety. (Please note, general daily stress is VERY different from an anxiety disorder. Call me when your pulse is 160--resting--and it feels like someone has an iron grip on your lungs.) Then the paranoia and nervous tics set in. I was actually kind of excited that I woke up at 5am, cause I thought well hey, I can watch 3 hours of Will and Grace at 7, then get all showered and pretty, then meet Greg for lunch! No such luck. Thanks mental illness, you're a real peach.
All these symptoms aside, I'm noticing my depression isn't rearing its ugly head too often, so my mind is in a better place to do some serious thinking about myself. While I can't always stop my automatic negative thoughts, I'm able to contradict them; to say Shut up, self, you are NOT worthless, you are NOT (always) annoying, and people DO like you! I guess it's part of the process of relearning to like, and then love, myself. They say you can't help or love anyone else until you help and love yourself. Well, I'm helping myself. And while it might be 3 steps forward 1 step back, day by day I get a little bit closer to believing in myself. I am not a failure, and everything I have set my mind to I have kicked ass at, so take that, depression. Suck it.
I need to love myself. I have so much love for others that I neglect myself. I hate this term but for lack of better words, I have a "crush," or "feelings for" someone, and I can't devote myself to anyone while neglecting myself. I can't depend on others to boost my mood, feed my ego and determine my self worth. That is MY job. Recovery is possible, but no one said it was fast or easy (or cheap). As long as I have support along the way, I truly believe I will get to where I want to be. No, there is no cure, but there is manageability and recovery. I like to imagine Rob Schneider in The Water Boy cheering me on. YOU CAN DO EET!
On that note of positive self-talk, I'm going to go attempt sleep. I have a range of things that need to be done tomorrow, most of which I'm not looking forward to...but hopefully I'll make it out to get my bushly eyebrows taken care of FINALLY!
Good night moon.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Drip Drip Drop Little April Shower
Well, I shouldn't write about having nothing to do all day or night...ended up making a 3-hour round-trip drive to Rockford! 88 is scary and dark at night.
Had a do-over today. Lots of fun, minus some mood swings (and actually not from me!) and negativity. BUT good times with good friends nonetheless. Thought one person might have been a little nicer since I rescued his love last night, but oh well, this is how things go.
My little group has such an interesting dynamic; such different personalities and outlooks. Makes for interesting interactions. This little group makes me truly appreciative of the few pure, genuine gentlemen of the world. There aren't enough. There are men who can be gentlemen when a situation requires it, and then there are men for whom it is simply second nature. Kudos.
Off to bed now...hoping I don't turn my alarm off in my sleep (again) and can get to Honda of Lisle nice n early for an oil change and to figure out why my car sounds like it's going to explode. And I just ran out of wiper fluid, so it's another sign from the universe sent especially for me. "GET YOUR FUCKING OIL CHANGED. Love, Universe. Hopefully I can be well rested and get shtuff DONE, including harrassing TK again about when the eff I'm going to their silly program. Maybe I can sneak some fun into the day too, liiiiiike Hunger Games with Sarita?? I hope so. We shall see :)
Good night Loverfaces.
Had a do-over today. Lots of fun, minus some mood swings (and actually not from me!) and negativity. BUT good times with good friends nonetheless. Thought one person might have been a little nicer since I rescued his love last night, but oh well, this is how things go.
My little group has such an interesting dynamic; such different personalities and outlooks. Makes for interesting interactions. This little group makes me truly appreciative of the few pure, genuine gentlemen of the world. There aren't enough. There are men who can be gentlemen when a situation requires it, and then there are men for whom it is simply second nature. Kudos.
Off to bed now...hoping I don't turn my alarm off in my sleep (again) and can get to Honda of Lisle nice n early for an oil change and to figure out why my car sounds like it's going to explode. And I just ran out of wiper fluid, so it's another sign from the universe sent especially for me. "GET YOUR FUCKING OIL CHANGED. Love, Universe. Hopefully I can be well rested and get shtuff DONE, including harrassing TK again about when the eff I'm going to their silly program. Maybe I can sneak some fun into the day too, liiiiiike Hunger Games with Sarita?? I hope so. We shall see :)
Good night Loverfaces.
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