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

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"

this is not ok.  i am not ok.  i will not BE ok.

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.

Yeah you're fucked alright

I'm so fucking mad at myself.  Fuck.

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.

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]

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.

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!

And I'm crazy but you like it (loca loca loca!)

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? :(

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. 

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.

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:

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?