Sunday, June 26, 2016

June 26

Sorry, I haven't blogged in over a week. It's been a rough week. I've started writing up blogs and would start panicking and decided not to post them. My urges to OD have been completely out of control since giving my scissors up last weekend. On Friday night, I went through with it. Its awful. The rush of endorphins only lasted a few minutes. And since the end of the rush, I've been in a very dark place. I didn't go to the hospital, which I'm very thankful for. My parents do know that I OD and so does my therapist. They kept an eye on me yesterday to make sure I was ok. I threw up after OD-ing so I'm fine. I'm sure my therapist will want to talk about it on Thursday. I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I want to forget it. I feel so stupid for taking the pills. And I hate myself for everything I've done to screw things up.

As far as Ana goes, I'm slipping back into her patterns. I'm restricting more and purging more. I'm secretly throwing out food. I know someone will catch on, but in the mean time I'm gonna destroy myself. I dunno what else to do. I feel so worthless.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

My Pity Party

I finally did it. This morning, I gave my mom my scissors. She's gonna hold on to them for safe-keeping. She said if it gets too rough and I need them to ask. She's being so understanding, but I don't know if I'd ever feel comfortable adking to cut. Giving up the scissors is such a huge step for me and a scary step. I'm nervous and have been freaking out the past couple of days. My mind is going a hundred miles an hour and my heart is racing. I'm also having suicidal thoughts- to the point of a plan. Don't worry; I don't intend to act. And if it gets to that point, I'll text my therapist. I tried to nap, and couldn't. I took a shower and a lavender pill to calm me down. I dunno if it's working. I just taste lavender now. I've been hiding in my room most of the afternoon.

I don't know what to do without the release of cutting. I could find something else to cut with. Or I could B/P. I purged lunch and dinner yesterday. And skipped breakfast. It was a rough day. Maybe I'm not ready for recovery. Is anyone ever really ready? If I don't get healthy, I'm gonna be depending on my mom and sister and social security for the rest of my life. I don't wanna be a burden on everyone. But do borderlines ever really get better?

There was a time when I tried to prove everyone wrong- prove that me, a borderline, could recover and have a successful life. But I feel so defeated and like I've failed to do that. I just proved them right. I'm a waste of space and energy. I'm just gonna continue going through this cycle of hospitalizations and interventions and suicide attempts. I'm nothing more than a Borderline with an ED.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Maybe Giving Up My Scissors

Today I had therapy. My therapist wants me to give up my scissors that I always cut with. I'm scared to. I'm scared if I don't have access to my scissors, I'll either find something else to cut with or I'll OD. I told her I'll just find something else to cut with. She told me to text her tonight when I'm getting ready for bed and to take my PRN. I don't know if I can just not cut today. I don't know if I can give up my scissors. What if I go back to purging all my meals? Or laxative abuse? Not that I can get laxatives. I'm terrified of taking this step towards "recovery." My scissors are so meaningful to me, but so shameful. She wants me to give them to my mom. I didn't say anything about it to my mom yet. We had an hour drive home and I just sat thinking about it the whole time, trying not to panic. I don't even know how to talk to her about it, without it being super awkward. Maybe I can wrap them up and give them to her and tell her to hold on to the package til I need it. I'm not even being completely honest. I have a backup pair of scissors. Do I give those to her to? I feel so stressed out right now.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

The Three Words I Wish Described Me

My last post was about the three words that I use to describe myself: Insecure, Judgmental, and Sensitive. It doesn’t paint a pretty picture, but I’m human and we tend to be messy designs. But I promised this blog would reveal what three words I wish summed me up. What do I wish others saw in me? What do I wish I saw in myself?

First and probably the most important, I wish I could describe myself as faithful. I posted my testimony on here the other day. I’ve abandoned my faith in God over and over again. Turning to self-harm and Ana as refuge. At times I was more faithful to Ana than to God. This evil that has taken over my life and tried to kill me time after time, and somehow, I trusted it to bring me the stability and peace that I needed. My biological mom was faithful. No, she didn’t go to church every Sunday. But she prayed and read her bible, and had a relationship with God that I long for. She trusted him, even when she was dying from cancer. I sat in a corner thinking He had abandoned our whole family. And my mom prayed, thanking God for all the things we had and all the friends and family surrounding us. She knew God was gonna take care of her and when she died she knew she was going to Heaven. I wish I was faithful like that.

The second word, I wish I could use to describe myself: Compassionate. The Oxford dictionary defines this word as “feeling or showing sympathy and concern for others.” I wanna be able to help carry other peoples’ loads without feeling so worn out. The bible tells us to “carry each other’s burdens.” This is something God commands us to do. I’m so burned out from my own burdens most of the time, I forget to help others carry their own. I wanna become a better listener and a dependable friend. Not just the mentally ill friend. I had a friend a few years ago; she was the most compassionate person I’d ever met. She had faced the struggles of cancer, depression, anxiety, and divorce. Her past wasn’t neat or perfect. But when I fell into her life, she loved me and took me under her wing with the most sympathy anyone could have ever given me at that time. I wanna be that for someone else. There are so many hurting people in the world and if they could just feel like they mattered for a few minutes, it could change their perspective.

The third word: Confident. I wanna feel confident in my body, in my abilities, and just in everything I do. I know that I’ll never feel confident a 100% of the time. But if I could feel confident 75% of the time; that would be nice. The most confident person, I’d ever known, is my older brother. I’m sure he has insecurities- we all do. But he knows who he is and he doesn’t let his insecurities stand in his way. He can make jokes and talk in front of people without getting hurt and withdrawn afterwards. I wish I was more like that. I wish I didn’t get hurt so easily. I wish I didn’t feel so withdrawn and scared to talk to people, including my friends.

So, now you know who I wish I was.

Monday, June 13, 2016

Three Words Used to Describe Me

I just started a new book- its one of those devotional books that’s supposed to help you apply God’s word to your daily life. Its starts out asking, “What three word would you use to describe yourself?” That question got me thinking. How do I sum myself up in three word? How do I wish to be described when given only three words? So today’s blog is gonna be about the three words I would use to describe myself now. And my next blog will be about the three words I wish described me.

The first word that pops into mind: insecure. I feel so insecure about everything. I don’t like the way I look. Until recently, I rarely posted pictures of myself online and even now, I only post my face. I hate people seeing my body. My most recent boyfriend couldn’t even touch me without me cringing. I don’t want others to feel the fat that I perceive on my body. The other day, my mom took me clothes shopping. She says it was a success, because we found clothes that fit me pretty well. I don’t feel the same way as her. I felt humiliated, trying on clothes and seeing how disgustingly fat I looked in everything. My stomach stuck out and my thighs looked huge. My hips so wide. I felt so gross in my own skin. I wanted to melt away into nonexistence. We bought the clothes she said looked good on me and I went with her opinion, because I can’t rely on my own. I’m too insecure to trust my own opinion- even the insecure ones. So, insecurity is one of my most prevalent traits.

The second word I would use is: Judgmental. I pretend not to be judgmental and for the most part I’m very accepting of others. But there this side of me that mostly comes out when talking about how I should or shouldn’t feel or deal with a situation. I shouldn’t be hurt by the way family photos were done the other week. I blogged about this on June 8, so I won’t drag it out. I shouldn’t even be upset still. I also shouldn’t be upset with the nurse for telling me my BMI. However, she should have known better than to saI blogged about this on June 8, so I won’t drag it out. I shouldn’t even be upset still. I also shouldn’t be upset with the nurse for telling me my BMI. However, she should have known better than to say the BMI of someone with an ED in front of them. All judgments.

The third word I would use is sensitive. I am very sensitive, emotionally and physiologically. My feelings get hurt easily, like with the photo situation. I also get overwhelmed very easily. Whether it be school work, or in a crowded place, or just at home with my little brothers running around making all kinds of noise. I’m very sensitive to noise and sometimes, need to escape and sit quietly in my room. As I mentioned earlier, I’m also sensitive to people touching me. Emotionally, I just get upset easier than others, but I also get really freakin excited for things. It comes with having a sensitive personality.

I guess you could say the three words I picked were connected in some way. I think being sensitive can sometimes be a good thing, but I wish I wasn’t so insecure and judgmental. If you wanna know the three words I wish described me, you’ll have to wait til my next blog. But keep a lookout, it’ll come very soon.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Testimony

During high school, I moved far away from God and wanted nothing to do with the idea of a god of any kind or religion. Through the actions of my family and the people at church, I had been taught that Godly people were judgmental and unkind. They did not care if they hurt your feelings or tore you down, as long as they got to say what they believed and made it clear that what they believed was “right”. I didn’t really care if it was right or wrong, as long as I could tune them all out and not listen to it anymore. I did not hide the fact that I was agnostic and wanted nothing to do with God.

At this time, I was struggling with my depression and anger issues. My anger went out towards everyone, especially my biological dad, his wife, and the church. I became a bomb erupting daily at the smallest things. Then there were periods of time where I was so shut down that it felt like I was galaxies away from the rest of the world. The few times that I did pray was me crying out to just die because I could no longer withstand the pain. I prayed for God to just send me to hell, because it had to better than the pain I was feeling.

December of my senior year of high school, I got kicked out of my biological dad’s house. So, I packed my bags and moved in with a family that had been mentoring me. I’d met them through the church and they were different than most of the Christians I knew. When they prayed, it didn’t sound fake or like they were just saying what they thought they were supposed to say. They were genuine and honest with me. They tried to understand my pain, something no one else had tried to do. I felt accepted for the first time since my biological mom’s death several years earlier.

A few months later, March of 2010, I broke down and knew I couldn’t get through this alone. I needed God. I prayed for him to open my heart and fill it with his love and acceptance. The next Sunday, the church I was attending was doing baptisms- I asked if I too could be baptized. My decision to make God the center of my life was now public.

I thought with God, things would get easier, but my insecurities grew stronger and more out of control. I tried to not lose my focus off of God. But later that year and into the next couple of year, I fell into a deep depression that turned into a cycle of anger outbursts, suicide attempts, psychiatric hospitalizations, disordered eating, self-injury, and having nowhere to call home. I was trapped and scared and hurting. My past was haunting me and destroying me. I was beaten down and when I needed God the most, it seemed like he had abandoned me. So I turned away from him. I declared myself, once again, agnostic.

But even in the darkest hour, God was calling for me. After a few years of running from him, I started calling for God again. From time to time, I’d pray or open my bible. I started reading devotionals. I started searching for a church. I started going to Freedom that Last, a faith based recovery bible study. I began to grow a relationship with God, I did not have before. I’m not saying its easy. I get angry at God and I still have a mental illness. In fact, I recently relapsed with my mental illness, but things are different this time, I have a growing relationship with God, a wonderful support system, and a knowledgeable treatment team.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

June 8

Two days later than my last blog and I still haven't texted my therapist, I haven't acted on my suicidal thoughts either. I've been cutting a lot though- haven't hit any more arteries, surprisingly. Each day, I feel more alone and empty inside. I'm trying so hard not to isolate, but I also am not telling my mom how bad I'm feeling. She can tell something's up though. She asked me if I was alright yesterday and then asked if I was feeling sad. I told her I was and when she asked "why," I told her I didn't know. I don't know why I'm feeling so down this week. Over the weekend we visited my mom's family. It was an alright trip; there were a few things that upset me. I shouldn't have gotten upset and I tried to not let it show. First, there was dinner, Friday night. My mom ordered my dinner for me; she didn't even let me look at the menu and choose something. She just said "you and willy are gonna get this and share it." Then Willy didn't agree to share with me and told me to stop taking his food. I felt terrible from the long day of traveling and then getting fussed at for eating I didn't even choose to eat. I have no idea how I made it through that meal without crying.

Then there was the dinner party Saturday for my great grandparents 60th wedding anniversary. They wanted to do family photos. One of the photos they did was with my little brothers, the biological great grandkids and the great grandparents. It hurt my feelings that I wasn't included in that photo. I'm a great grandkid, too; aren't I? Or does the family still hate me for the past? Did I get kicked out and am no longer really part of the family? Was I ever really part of the family? Anyways, that whole fiasco did cause me to almost cry. But I held it together until after we ate. Then I snuck off to the bathroom and purged.

I so badly wanna be part of the family, but I know I'm not. And the fact that I'm not makes me wanna die. My mom's family is coming to stay with us for a week in August; I don't know how I'm gonna be able to handle everything. Stay locked in a room the whole week- if I'm alive still.

Monday, June 6, 2016

June 6

Life's not getting any easier and I'm starting to have suicidal thoughts again. I already have a plan; i'm not gonna post what the plan is, because its not really important how I hurt myself. Part of me wants to act on my thoughts tonight. I don't know what to do. I'm scared and hurting so badly right now. I don't know why I feel this way today. There haven't been any specific triggers that I can point out. I don't know what to do. I'm in a panic and just wanna act on my urges and get it over with. My mom has all my meds still. If she didn't have them, I would have already OD-ed on them. I don't want to tell her that I'm feeling this bad. I don't want her to worry. But I also don't want her to find me dead. I think I'll try to hold off at least until I talk to my therapist. I told her if I had any thoughts, I'd talk to her first. I want her to trust me as much as I need to be able to trust her. I'll text her first thing in the morning.