two weeks away feels like the whole world should have changed

I honestly thought that I would be more sad than I am right now. I mean, I cried a lot yesterday on the bus and when I got home and in the car and at group and everything. It's always overwhelming to come home. It's always a weird feeling to step off the bus some 10...12 hours later and try to place myself back in the city. Like, was I really there 12 hours ago? Was I just sitting in J's apartment on the futon? And now I'm here? I don't know if it is from traveling all day or what, but it's always just so weird to think that just this morning I was there, and now I'm here. So, lol, I cry. I cry and leave awkward voicemails on my friends phone because no matter what, there is always a part of me that aches when I leave the city.

But I'm sitting in my bedroom right now (weird?) watching the Manhattan in Motion video, which it sounds lame, but something I thought I wouldn't be able to do. Simple things like listening to Empire State of Mind and watching this video and other NYC related things. I uploaded all my pictures to facebook and lived every moment again through them and didn't sob hysterically. I laughed and smiled and seeped back into those memories, even for a second. I don't even know why I feel like this or what shifted or anything. All I know is that, yes, I do miss the city, but I'm really, truly, okay.

Maybe this all has to do with the fact that I'm actually going back in two weeks - that in two weeks time I will be back to my "home." I will be back in the company of my favourite new yorker; I will be back to where a squawking cat wakes me up at 4 every morning. I will be back to the MTA instead of the TTC. I will be back to lots and lots of people.

I wish I could say more about this past week. I wish I could just....get it all into words and explain and express. I made it to the last 20 minutes of group last night post 12 hours on a bus and just was so grateful. I sat there and the change within myself was just so god damn present in that moment that it was worth paying the 3$ subway fare to make it. It was worth it all. I think I'm going to go drag the christmas tree upstairs now.

it hasn't felt like home before you

It's 5am. I've just said goodbye to J. Seriously, where has this week gone? I remember sitting on the bus last week thinking about this moment - thinking about my last night and what I would be doing and how I would be feeling. This part never gets easier; it's the worst part and simultaneously the best part. It sucks because leaving the one place you know you belong and can't stay has got to be one of the worst feelings in the entire world, but knowing that leaving means you just get to come back again is also a very....rewarding? feeling. And I'm coming back in just a matter of weeks, so it really all does feel different this time, but also the same. Hmmm. I'm wondering how that can be. I'm not looking forward to the bus ride however.

I talked a lot this week with J about my life and about where I have been. All week I have thought about where I was this summer when I came to where I am now, and I truly cannot even place that girl to who I am, especially now. I remember going to the Donut Plant in the summer and nervously picking at it and only being able to manage half because I was so sure my ass was going to expand instantly and I would lose control and be a giant fucking mess and then now, when I just order a donut without thinking and eat it without thinking and just have a good time. I can't even REMEMBER what I talked about with J while I was at the DP in the summer because I was just so god damn lost into my eating disorder. I sort of am just sitting here just....I don't know. This whole change?

I need to get the rest of my things together so that I am not frantically running around trying to catch the subway at last minute to get the bus. I hope that my bus is semi on time tonight so I can make it back for koom bi a because I just really want to be there for the last group and just, I don't know. Everything about this trip is just always so heavy (in a good way) in my whole entire being and group is the perfect place to just....get it all out.

I'm going to be okay.

brave.

It's 1:18am and I'm going to kick myself tomorrow when J wakes me up to go skating, but I don't really care. I'm sitting in the living room looking out at the city and I want to just cry because it's all so god damn beautiful - more beautiful than I can even put into words and I don't even want to try because I just don't think I can encapsulate it all. I love here....I love being here. I love being here with someone who loves and appreciates New York more than me because there is just so much to learn. Stories and places and pictures and smiles and laughs - soul opening laughs - and from the very first time I stepped foot into this city in 2009 I always knew that it was special to me. I'm so different from that girl. But that's what I really love about New York, no matter how long it's been, it's still the same and yet so different and it's really at these moments that I notice even the slightest differences in myself.

I wish I could just capture this moment. I wish there was some way to hold it in my hands and come back to it whenever I need to. It sounds ridiculous - all of this does, and I'm just so past the point of even caring. I want to let loose and scream and laugh and smile and eat really good food and love it. I want to dance all night and sing at the top of my lungs and be okay with it. Because fuck, I think about sitting in group when K asks me all the time, but what else are you? And it's such a god damn struggle to say anything, so I just say what I always say after its choked out of me, but I just want to scream right now that I'm brave and I'm beautiful and I'm funny and I'm smart and I'm caring and I'm kind and I'm so many things and have so much potential to be these things and be the person I'm supposed to be, whoever that is, and I can do that. That's who I am here. Everything is balanced and centered and my friends in the next room sleeping and I just want to say Thank You for changing my life. Thank you for sharing this with me and letting me be apart of it because fuck, it feels so good to be apart of something, whatever it is. I walk down the streets of NYC and know this is where I'm meant to be. I sit on the subway and I wish I could just explain it, you know? I wish I could make my mom understand, make people understand that this is the only thing I'm sure about in my life. That honest to god, my purpose in life is this city. it's not the future children I may or may not have, it's not the person I've been crushing on for the past year, it's not to cure cancer or be a book publisher or a doctor or anything. It's this city. That simple and that complicated.

My first night here in July I just laid on the futon and cried. I cried because I felt disgusting and so unworthy of being here and being friends with J and crying over a fucking donut and I'm sitting in the exact same spot and I just can't even put myself to that girl. Which is strange because its 130 in the morning and the night is when I always slip away, and I'm so god damn present right now and I want more than anything to stay here.

and it's all coming back to me.

Sitting on the bus right now. The internet is kind of shoddy, so hopefully this posts when I'm done. It's just a little before five, meaning I've been on the bus for the past five hours. Feels like a lot longer, really. It's been pretty good so far. I had a really awful experience with MegaBus in the past so I was about weary about riding it, but it's been smooth sailing for far (fingers crossed as I still have six more hours to go!). I've had two seats to myself near the stair case (extra foot room) for the entire ride. We have one more stop in syracuse and then one hand in the air for the big city. Syracuse is always a busy station so I assume it could get super busy there....who knows. Hopefully it's not too bad because S-NYC is still a good portion of the journey and I'm probably going to pass out soon.

I'm excited to go. I really am. I felt pretty much how I expected I would feel last night. I don't know, its that whole before you leave anticipation that rubs me in the wrong way. I just get really nervous and anxiety ridden and just really am not sure what to do with myself. I stayed up pretty late sort of just whatever, so I wasn't feeling 100% this morning, but popped some ativan and was good to go.

I'm excited. I really am. I have that feeling in the pit of my stomach that I know I'm going to be there tonight. That I'm going to sleep on J's futon and I'm going to hear the people and the traffic and the noise and the sirens and I'm going to be okay.

New York....I'm ready for you.

all of these lines across my face

I'm going to New York? What? That sounds really weird to be typing out. I mean, I knew that I was going to New York for NYE, but I'm getting on a bus in less than a week to go for a week. The offer came yesterday night and I've been hemming and hawing all night and all morning about it. So many reasons to go, and so many reasons to not, a big one being money. I really don't have the financial means to be going, and even NYE is pushing it. I haven't been working, clearly, and it is the holiday season meaning lots of shopping to do. But, everybody is encouraging me to go, and I know deep down that it is my choice ultimately.

I feel like something is holding me back and I'm not quite sure yet what that is, but I feel like I always feel this. That ambivalence. Minus the times that I just sort of decided to get on a bus and go and left the next day in 2010. I guess I had money then? Or was just completely off the charts in doing whatever the hell I wanted to do not caring about the consequences. But even in February I was unsure. I remember crying about over the trip at the kitchen table to my mom one night. I remember fighting with her in July about going. And then I look back on the person I was when I came home from those trips. I felt alive again. I look at where I am now versus where I was before I left in July and they don't even compare. I can't even recognize the girl I was in July. I'm not in an amazing place right now eating disorder wise, but I'm in a much better place than I was before. I'm no longer laying awake at 3am freaking out over what will happen if I drink a glass of water. I have been struggling lately, but not anywhere near that degree. I really would like to see J and the city and just be there. I know I'm taking a chance that now things may not work out at New Years, I know that. But, fuck, I'm sitting here thinking, this is a chance I have to take. Or, am willing to take? Whether it works out or not, if I take it, I've taken it. There is no going back.

Other than that. That's pretty much what is going on with me these days. Keeping busy with my Biology. I have a mixture of good days and bad days and I'm just sort of accepting that as the norm and trying to...keep going?

Still, I need better ways to cope and deal.

It snowed today for the first time this year and I haven't taped sheets up over my window yet. I haven't cut my hair or tried to drown myself in the bath tub or run around town in high heels and my bikini at 1 in the morning.

Winter...maybe I'm ready for you this year.

well i'm gone, this songs your letter.

I keep wondering how I got to this point. I keep wondering a lot of things lately. I have to go to work in the morning. Work...I'm sitting here self medicating and prolonging the night because I can't fucking stand the thought of having to go to work tomorrow. I can't stand the thought of actually having to interact with customers and coworkers and people and every head honcho from head office is stopping by and I just can't even fucking fathom being there. I really can't. And yet, I have nobody to blame but myself because everyone is telling me to just quit because I shouldn't deal with this stress and it's doing my head in and they're treating me like shit and yet, I just am fucking sitting here on the verge of sobbing, but god forbid I actually show an emotion, so self medicate. Yeah.

I want to say that I miss New York and J and central park and that moment I laid my head down on the futon and closed my eyes. I want to feel that again, and yet I feel like now I'm just some idiot who runs away when things get hard. Things are hard and I want to go, and I want to stay because I also can't fathom the idea of looking like a fucking dumb shit who can't get their fucking crap together all these years later. Hi. Do you really want to be my friend, because it can get pretty tiring after awhile and deep down inside,  I would actually get on my fucking hands and knees and beg you to not leave.

It's exhausting to fight a battle you feel you're losing.

and you'll find somebody you can blame

Meltdown. I had an absolute meltdown in group last night. By the time I had gotten to group, I was already in a bad mood. Traffic was bad and then the subway broke down and it was just a fucking disaster, so by the time I got there we were already halfway through check in's. I pretty much just blew everything off and was like I'm frustrated with my life, that's all. And it was just so fucking noticeable how pissed off and bitchy I was, and still, K, challenged me and asked me if I had an answer to her fucking question. I didn't, obviously. And so, again, she asked people to think of something. KB said I was a worthwhile human being and S said I was beautiful and I just started crying because I'm so god damn tired of being challenged. And of course, it didn't stop there. At the end when there was enough time to talk, I just expressed myself about being challenged; about every week that I hate that I'm put on the spot to answer a question I'm not quite sure I'll ever have an answer too. And I just couldn't stop crying. I said I hear what people say, and I just, how can I even think something of myself when I'm am the girl who always fall short; so close, but just never quite makes it all the way. And she just flat out challenged me with the truth. Told me I have lived my life like this so long, that this is my prison, that I have brainwashed myself so much to believe that I'm really guilty of all these things I'm not; all these things I believe I am...ugly, stupid, unimportant, worthless, uneducated, drop out, unemployed, fat. She told me I've conditioned myself to these thoughts that every week when she asks me if I have an answer to my question, she literally just watches me shut down. That the things I could maybe say or want to say, I can't even let myself believe them so I immediately just shut down.

She's right. Because I want to tell her that I really am a worthwhile person and I am beautiful and I am inspiring and I am kind and caring and funny and helpful and I type these things and I feel guilty. I feel swallowed by guilt, like I've just broke some cardinal rule of how I'm supposed to live my life. Like I've committed an eighth sin. It fucking aches to write things I don't believe myself to even have worth to amount to. I want to believe I can change, but I write these things and try to feel them and I just feel trapped. Thundering, all I can hear is, how can you be any of those things when deep down you know the person you are, the things you've done/haven't done. Who are you kidding? You're a piece of shit and that is all you have ever amounted to.

And then I got home and everything about work surfaced. I laid for hours in bed with my sister just talking about life and so badly I wanted to be connected to all the things going on in her life; so badly I just want to slip out of myself and into the pieces of her life, or someones life, anybodies life, so that I can maybe understand what I'm supposed to be doing or where I'm supposed to be going and maybe, just maybe, it will be enough for me to hold in my hands and carry back to my own life. I laid awake till 3am when I decided that I needed to make myself a feast because that's what I do. That's who I am. And then I sliced my fucking finger open trying to cut a bagel and made a mess. I had to wake up my mom who was angry that I was eating during the night, terrified I was eating during the night, and we talked and talked and I just didn't hold back because it was 3am and who I am in the dark of night is not who I am in the day and sometimes its just easier when it's night and you don't have to play respectable girl whose got it all together.

She called into work for me today. I need a job, but she asked me, at what cost?

I don't know.

I'm not sure of anything these days.

and the cancer spread and it ran into her body and her blood

So where I'm at these days, hmmm. I'm sitting in Starbucks again, surprise, even though I cannot afford the 3.31$ mocha that I'm drinking. Been a lot of that lately, and still it hasn't stopped me.

Where to even start. I hate that the weather is changing. I hate that I can feel the shift. I hate that I feel that shift inside of me. Despite everything that I'm doing and working on right now (which somehow went from nothing to everything), I still feel so directionless. I feel lost. After work yesterday, I just showed up at my moms office and started crying and I just wanted to tell her, it's more than just work. It's more than anything I can even comprehend right now, but I didn't. I feel...I don't even know if stuck is the word. I think about the future and its a black hole. I think about all the work I'm putting into getting my sciences and I find myself thinking, What even is the point? Why am I working so hard towards this when I don't even know if it's going to work out. And I know, I KNOW that is not a reason to not do something, because yeah, it may not work, but it also may. It's so much more than just that thought and yet I can't even come up with the words to express it.

I feel like I can't tell anybody but my mom about the job situation. I'm happy to have a job, trust me, I am, but I was really misguided in the interview. It IS commission based, and so the stress of trying to make sales is really hard. I worked for three hours yesterday and barely made 50% of my sales goal, which means that if I don't improve that on my next few shifts, I lose 50% of my hours for the following week. Well, as it is, I only am getting like 15 hours. So then what? 7.5 hours a week? 70 bucks? That's the thing, I work a lot of days, but not a lot of hours. Shifts are like 2-3 hours. So by the time I get there and back I'm spending almost just as much I'm making at 70 bucks a week. I am going to keep it regardless for now because its like Blockbuster - money is money. My mom has offered to help me out with my cell phone bill, but I've yet to tell her about that maxed out credit card bill. I also am swimming up to my ears in debt with student loans and owing my sisters money. They keep telling me not to worry about it right now - that they would rather me save my money for school and pay them back second, but it's just like, I hate having it hang over me. I hate money, and yet I'm sitting in starbucks drinking a $3.31 drink. Not even the Christmas Cup is making me feel better.

Tonight I'm going to group and even that, digging up subway for was a nightmare. Dimes. I'm paying for the subway in dimes, because thats really how I've been rolling these past few days. I just want my first paycheque to come in from roots so I can start putting a dent in my bill. I actually entertained the idea of going to work at McDonalds full time. I really don't even fucking care at this point. I wanted to stay out of the food industry so bad, but I just don't even care about myself right now enough to do what is best for me. Like, in my mind, what I see right now is, needing to pay off my debt. And doing what I need to do to do that. And I know that pisses people off and I just don't care. I am so tired of always owing money and I have nobody to blame for that except myself. So really, get myself in? I need to get myself out. I dabbled in the idea of getting my job back at Tim Hortons, but I doubt they would go for that. Not to mention, I just remember how fucking miserable I was. But like, I'm at a point where I just can't even remember that, or am ignoring it or something. Like, that's what it keeps coming down too. I really don't even know. There is something so much bigger going on and people are just like, oh what's wrong, you seem off, is everything okay? Like no, everything is not okay but I don't know why and I am not sure how I'm supposed to figure it out. I don't know how to fix something when I don't even know what the problem is. I want to chalk it up to winter. I want to chalk it up to the fact that I always go crazy, but that's such bull shit because it's an excuse and its a cop out and I'm tired of that for my life.

Still, I wish I could figure out what I'm feeling because than maybe shit would just get easier. Or I'd know what to do or what road to take to try and fix this shit.

I hate this weather. I feel so cold from the inside out.

this is where the healing begins

This weather is disgusting. I'm sitting in Starbucks with a hot chocolate trying to figure out exactly what it is that I am doing. I still feel very..."lost" despite all the opportunities that have turned up for me. It's a very weird paradox that I feel most mornings when I wake up. I'm excited, I am, but then, there is another part of me that just cripples my spine and I'm scared/anxious/nervous/whatever. I lay awake at night and stare at the ceiling trying to figure out whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing - the steps that I need to take, am taking, to get there. I don't know...night rolls around and suddenly its not...enough? Or maybe it is enough and I'm just dooming myself to failure because it's a pattern I'm so familiar with.

K, reminds us every Tuesday night that Recovery is about getting uncomfortable, and if you're uncomfortable, you're in the process. I guess it makes sense...well, I mean, of course it makes sense. I guess that's how I feel lately. Uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with the idea of returning to the working world, of starting something new, of working towards something. I'm so used to shit hitting the fan in one way or another. The video store was an awesome job, until we went out of business. School was an awesome aspect of my life, until it wasn't. I know, I know, that's no excuse to just give up, but that doesn't make it any easier to keep one foot in the world and fight.

For the past three weeks, K, has asked me what defines me? How do I see myself? Think of something positive because the words and labels, I associate myself too are part of the reason I can't connect to myself; have a relationship with myself. I hear that things that people say; when V told the group that I was inspiring. And it's...it's like, okay, maybe I am or could be inspiring to other people. But to myself? Like lets get real. I've been kicked out of school and dropped out and I'm always that girl who just doesn't quite make it. One step forward and then two steps back. And so, I feel guilty and unworthy of anything that I can think of myself to be, except negative things because that's all I have ever amounted too. And it's easier. It's easier in the end to just give up or not try because then what have you lost? Really? So when K, asks me what defines me, I don't know what to tell her because the things that fall out my mouth, or the things I should or could say, just feel like lies. I guess, I just really don't know. 

And it pisses me off every week when K challenges me. When I'm midsentence and she cuts me off to fucking challenge me. To tell me the brutal truth. And I hate...love? hate? love? Hate...it? To tell me that it's quite obvious I don't want to connect to someone else, can't connect to someone else when I can barely connect to myself as an individual. The last person to step so fiercely on my toes...I can't even remember. It makes me angry, it really does. But when I sit back, there is a rational part of myself that realizes how lucky I am that someone cares enough, notices enough, to challenge me. I'm lucky to have friends who look out for me and care about me. V and J and B...Most of the time, I honestly don't even know where I would be without them. 

And on a completely other note. I did get a job last week. I dropped off a couple of resumes in town and then at the mall because they were hiring seasonal. I ended up getting an interview at a clothing store and they offered me the job 40 minutes post interview. I know, that despite the anxiety I feel about starting all over again somewhere new, I am excited about this. That's really what I have to remind myself about. One of the major perks is being able to wear sweatpants to work, provided they are the sweatpants from the company, which is pretty fantastic.

I've also started my grade 11 biology class. It's all prep so that I can apply to nursing school this year to start in the fall of 2012. It's a long ways away, and it's another one of those things where sometimes I think, whats the point? Why am I even trying because I'm doomed to fail always and why even put the time in. Why not give up while I'm ahead and then I can say I at least failed on my own terms. I seriously don't even know how to change my thinking, except to just keep fucking moving forward, even if it's baby steps.

Moving forward.

Eyes open. 

allthewaytonyc

I don't know where I'm at these days, and not even in the "oh god, everything is so awful, I'm so confused, nothing is making sense", kind of way. I can't quite put my finger on it. Things, haven't been going so great, but I don't feel so...stuck? Is that even the right word? It's one I've been using a lot lately to describe myself.

It's 1:05am. I've got to stop doing this. I've been watching the Manhattan in Motion video in repeat, because really, right now, I long to belong to the city. I long for that moment I got off at the wrong subway stop and didn't care. All that mattered was running down 14th street with an oversized suitcase behind me because the city was waiting for me, someone was waiting for me and that fucking moment she opened the door and I threw my arms around her and held on for longer than necessary because I knew what it felt like to belong again. To be apart of something. What I wouldn't give for that moment. I catch glimpses of it, sometimes can feel it in the quietest parts of myself and it all just comes rushing back in. All of it. The street vendors in times square and running in the water at Coney Island and the ice cream truck pulling away from us and Italian dinners and guzzling water and garlic na'an and I swear to god, somedays, it feels like yesterday. Like, if I reached out I could touch those moments. Hold them in my hands.

There's a lot to update on, and it's 1:15am and all I can think about is laying on the couch eating Crumbs cupcakes with you and not caring about the calories while we watched Coming and Going and it had to be have been one of the most monumental moments of my short life so far. And maybe its because for the first time in what felt like for fucking ever, I was enough. Who I was, was just enough and there was no pretending. No anything. It was all just enough.

If I close my eyes and quiet my mind, some nights it feels like I never left. The steady hum of the air conditioner? The traffic and sirens and people outside, the cat squawking in the other room.

It's just all so god damn beautiful.

in a frozen ground

I've been meaning to blog for ages. And it's not that I haven't had the time, it's just that I haven't had the energy. Also, I'd much rather be sitting in a Starbucks and blogging, however, getting there is next to impossible now that my car has broken down. It's done. It's a goner. It broke down a week ago while I was on my way to go and get gas. I knew the car was a ticking time bomb and just waiting to go off. It belonged to my brother who left it here when he move six hours away for school. He left it here to die.

Simple, right? Oh no. Not at all. Earlier that morning my mom had asked me to bring my dad down to her work in said car because she needed someone to stay with my grandpa while she and my grandma were running to an appointment. She only asked my dad to come because a) She knows I don't feel comfortable being alone with my Grandpa (which has everything to do with how he treats my grandma) and b) She didn't want my dad just chilling home alone. All fine and dandy, yes? Yes. Until we actually get to the coffee house (did I mention mid way to my moms work she calls me and says meet at the coffee house instead) and there is no parking. I've been driving less than a month, and still getting the in's and outs of parking, and when given the option, I always pull through or back in because I hate backing out of a parking space. So the only spot available I could back into, but I wasn't quite sure how to maneuver the car being on the other side of the road (sounds simple, right? Not for me.) ANYWAYS, this erupted a huge fight between me and my dad which ended with him calling me a "Fucking Bitch," and then throwing a kleenex box at me and storming out of my car. And of course, I reacted horribly. I called my mom and told her I was done, I was over it and blah blah blah.

Somehow, this translated into me getting into trouble. Yes. YES. I was pretty upset. When I explained to her what happend a few hours after the fact (she had to rush to the appointment), it didn't go well at all. In fact, she told me it was my fault and that I provoked him. FIRST, she told me that when she asked my dad what had happened he had no idea why I was so upset and that I just kicked him out of the car and all this other bull shit. Yeah, okay. So when I explained to her what happend, I of course was told it was my fault and that my FIRST mistake was provoking him. What's that? Oh right, the woman who just got punched in the face by her husband, that was her fault too, wasn't it? I cannot even begin to fathom what that felt like. I was screaming in my car, SCREAMING. The wind was knocked out of me. I couldn't breathe. My mother? Saying this? TO ME? I hung up and went inside and started throwing all of my shit into my suitcases. I didn't even know what I was packing and what I needed, I just kept grabbing things and throwing them in. My sister ended up calling me because my mom informed her what had happened and it was a nightmare. I threw everything into the trunk and I'm not sure where exactly I thought I was going to go. I ended up at Starbucks just to clear my head and when my other sister told me she was on her way home I decided to go home as well, and that is when, my car quit on me.

I have never been so terrified in my entire life. I was going uphill (and I drive automatic) when it started to feel like it was shifting back and forth and not working properly. So once I was over the hill, I accelerated and did not speed up. Pedal to the floor and my car would not go above 40. The RPM was in the red zone. I flicked my flashers and pulled over, turned off the car and of course, it would not turn back on. So I sat in my car and sobbed. I called my sister who came and got me while we figured out what exactly to do with the car. I couldn't afford 100$ for a tow. My mom was livid. And I knew that there was nothing that I did wrong. That car was here to die, and whether I hadn't gone out that day at all and left the next day when our fight blew over, the car still would have quit. But with everything that happened in the morning, kaboom. World War 3.

Things have settled down since then. My mom has apologized, which means a lot to me. Apologized for the things she said to me that day, and for the way she's responded to things I've told her within the past few weeks. I feel like we've made some progress (?), but at other times I feel like we've just acknowledged how fucked up everything is. I have gotten so close to telling her that she just isn't the same mom that she used to be now, post diagnosis, and that makes me angry. It makes me angry because I'm 21 and I still need my mother. It makes me angry because I feel forced to drop things I'm trying to work through because they are suddenly "less important" than what's going on. Miniscule in the overall picture? To her? Maybe. I don't know. But to me? Not at all. This is my life, and I've been mixed up and on the wrong path for eight and a half years. Change doesn't happen overnight, and I feel like I've been making so much important progress since coming home from NYC. Since therapy and now Koom Bi A.  But I feel, I don't know. Guilty for it? Bad? Or no, I feel like I'm supposed to feel guilty for that and bad for that. Bad that my dad is being robbed of his brain and instead of focusing on making him comfortable and spending time, I'm focusing on myself and trying to sort my life out. I'm angry at my mom. I'm angry because I'm 21 and I'm trying to sort out my life and fix things and figure things out and this is the most crucial time in my life, or it feels like that. And it's...I feel like, I feel like she wants to take that away from me. And I don't mean that in a horrible sense of "My mom is such a bitch!" I mean, it scares her to know she has limited time with her husband, and I think that translates to her being scared of the limited time her children have left with their father. And maybe she's right, maybe my friends are right, maybe one day I'll look back on this and regret that I didn't care enough. That I put myself first. That instead of spending that "limited time" with him, I chose to invest so much time into my life. But, what else can I do at this point? I think of where I was before NYC this summer - before Jill - before those nights of sleeping on her futon thanking a god I don't believe in for letting me remember what it feels like to be alive - and I can't...I can't go back to that. I can't go back to that miserable, sick, sad girl who hated the idea of another day, of a tomorrow morning. What kind of "limited time" can even be spent if I'm spending my days binging and purging and over exercising and literally begging to fucking die. I can't do that anymore. I literally don't have it in me.

And so this is where I am. Neither here, nor there. It's been a rough week. It's been a bitch, but I have to be proud of myself for the things I have accomplished in spite of that. The fact that as much as I was just ready to bail, I didn't. As much as I didn't want to go to Koom Bi A on Tuesday, I went. In spite of how much my family makes me feel like shit for needing medication, I made the appointment to talk to my doctor.

I can do this, and that terrifies me.

But I can do this.

Seriously over life right now.

10072011

I've been staring at a blank screen for like 45 minutes. I don't know what to write about today. I don't know how to write about today. I hurt.

I've just been camped out in my room because at least here I can pretend that I'm choosing to isolate, instead of my mom ignoring me. It's so weird that I fight like cats and dogs with my sister Melissa, yet whenever shit like this happens and nobody is "on my side," Melissa still talks to me. Still acknowledges me. Still goes to bat for me.

I'm a fucking mess.

tears of an angel

I really don't know how to explain it. I wish I did. I feel like when the night comes around, I'm a completely different person than I am during the day. It's like, the sun goes down and the world goes to bed and I can feel myself lose hope, lose optimism, lose my belief in myself. I don't get it. I honestly don't fucking understand it. My family is all curled up in their beds sleeping and I'm laying awake wondering what I'm doing with my life, wondering if I'll ever figure it out, wondering what would happen if I just didn't wake up in the morning.

When I used to lay awake years ago, I would dig my fingers into my palms because I couldn't bear to touch my body. I couldn't bear to run my hands over my legs, thighs, hips, stomach, arms...I couldn't bear to know I had a body, was a body. I fucking disgusted myself. I lay awake now like 40 pounds heavier and wonder why I'm fighting. I feel my heart beat and sometimes it just fucking hurts. I don't know. I'll wake up tomorrow, I'll read this entry and I won't even fucking recognize the person who wrote it until the sun sets and then I'll read it and slip into this silhouette that follows me throughout the day and know exactly who wrote it, will feel it.

I remember back in 2009 before christmas holidays, I was walking in the wet snow at night to Union Station to catch my train back home. It was so could outside, but I felt it from the fucking inside. Like nothing, fucking nothing could warm me up or thaw me out. I just remember walking, drinking starbucks from a christmas cup with Greg Laswell on repeat on my iPod. I was so fucking suicidal and avoided the subway because I knew I would probably jump in front of it if I went down into the tunnel. And so I just fucking walked on feet that ached and I was tired and cold and lost and hadn't eaten in four days. I was so fucking lost, I was so god damn lost and some nights, that image is just glued to the back of my eyelids and I cannot get away from it.

I don't get it. I lay here, every night, thinking that all I can and will ever amount to is my eating disorder. That why I am even fighting for any sort of life when I'm not going anywhere. All my friends will graduate this year and start a new chapter of their lives and I haven't even made it through first year. I don't have a job. I'm fucking in love with someone and too much of a chicken shit to even do anything about it. I feel like I'm just...here...occupying space. Wasting space.

And then morning comes and I'm driving down ninth line in my car thinking about buying running shoes bceause I'm going to train for a marathon, and that my life is worth living and that I'm on my way to figuring everything out, it's just taking me a little bit longer than the rest and that that is okay.

And for now, thats enough to get me through the night.

Winter's coming.

pumpkin spice latte

I've neglected the blogging world, quite clearly. I can't believe it's already October. When did this happen? Since getting my drivers license last month (score!) I've been doing a lot of driving, and its just crazy to see that all the trees are changing colors and falling. I can tell that winter is coming, fall is definietly in the air. It worries me a little bit. I feel uneasy; I don't feel quite ready for it yet. I don't know, it's weird. Last year I sort of had this, take the bull by its horns attitude about winter and, it actually went alright? At this time last year I was settling into Fazooli's and its just so crazy to think that that was actually a year ago. Sometimes, everything just feels so far away.

September was a crazy busy month for me, as it usually is. I dont even know where to begin. School started a few days after my last entry on the 7th. But things in my house also took a turn for the worst. A lot of things happened between me and my mother, and when school finally rolled around, my head was in a completely different space. I couldn't focus in class. It felt wrong to be there, I couldn't stop crying. I honestly felt like I couldn't breathe in class, and I just ended up throwing my stuff into my bag and leaving. It was hard, because I honestly felt like I was at a point that I was ready for school, but then other things got a better hold of me and I just felt knocked off my feet. I withdrew from my classes. Cancelled my loans. It was the best decision for me. And if I want to be 100% honest, I didn't even feel myself belonging in my program or the class. I think, maybe, all along I knew that. Maybe all I really did want was to want to want school. If that makes sense. I've been doing a lot of thinking about it lately. I just...I don't even know what I'm doing at RU. I look at my reasons for transferring there in 2009 and its such a load of bull. It's not where I belong or what I even should be doing. That's the thing, I don't know what exactly I should be doing, but I've been learning the things that I shouldn't be doing. RU is one of them.

I feel like that is just a huge weight off my shoulders to admit. Like, it's something I've known deep down inside, but because I clung so tightly onto the idea of school I was afraid to speak it, breathe it, say it out loud because than what? Who knows. I've been doing a lot of looking into colleges lately. These days, colleges also pair with universities so you're getting dual training and a diploma as well as a degree. And the best part, its not so much at once. You can do your two years of college, take a break for a year or so and then go back to university to finish. Something so much more suited to my style of learning. My sister was telling me this morning that that would be perfect for me - that I could go back and start college in the Winter term and finish in less than two years if I wanted...That I could get a working holiday visa for Australia or the UK or somewhere and explore and travel and live and it's just...its so me. I mean, I'm not sure about traveling to the other side of the world, because I have this overwhelming need to always be near NY, but it's just. The idea of it all, isn't so suffocating. It's...refreshing?

In regards to the fight with my mother. It all boiled back down to my dad. Because it always does. I don't want to get too much into it, because god, it was fucking awful, but I don't know. I notice a huge difference in the person I am because of how I reacted to the situation. I reached out. I reached out to my sister, to my mom, to my friends, to people because I couldn't be on my own. I couldn't just absorb it like the sponge I am used to being because it was killing me. It was eating me alive to be on my own. And look what happens when you reach out. You move forward. You work through it. We've worked through it. Sometimes, the memory of it still stings, and I know that that is because it is all just so recent. But still.

My friend from the UK came to visit me at the end of the month for ten days. I'm talking about a girl I have known since I was 13 years old, who I never met. We had talked about this day, for god, 8 years. EIGHT YEARS in the making. There were some rough moments, as there always is when you are spending 24/7 with somebody for an extended period of time and I think her and I were both ready for some space by the last day, but saying goodbye was hard. Harder than I anticipated. It was hard to let go, to let her get on the bus and leave and know that its unsure of when we will get to see each other again. It's not like J or K in NY where it's just a bus ride away that I can hop on whenever I feel like it. We're talking about a fucking ocean. And ocean that did its best to keep us apart, but it was just...I don't even know how to talk about it and put it into words - that moment we actually hugged, because its just so god damn beautiful I'm afraid I can't even say it without imperfections and distortions because thats this world. It was just...and then walking away from the Bus Terminal, I felt empty. I felt like I had left something behind - sort of the empty hollowness I felt when I stepped on the subway last July in NYC and pulled out of Union Square away from J, away from the city. Away from my life.

We told each other...lets not wait 8 years again, okay?

And then, the next day, I lost one of my best friends to the United Kingdom as well. Packed up his belongings into two bags and got on a plane to start a new chapter of his life. It's weird. We spent the entire summer not talking to each other, and we fight more than cats and dogs and he irritates the hell out of me, but he is also always there for me. Will always be there for me, and goodbye was hard. I sometimes feel that all my friends lives are taking off and I'm still here. I'm still here trying to piece my own together and figure it out so I can have that - that moment where you literally feel you're life take flight and begin. I catch glimpses of it when I'm in New York, and I think thats why it's so hard to come home. To stuff myself into...a box?...my reality...here. But that's just it. It is my reality. And I'm learning to accept that and work with it and go with it. Everybody keeps telling me that I'm strong, that I'm figuring it out, that I'm moving forward even if it doesn't feel like it, and I just...I gotta believe them. I gotta believe that I am changing and evolving and moving forward even if I don't feel it, because the minute I stop, the minute I give in...it's over. I gotta make myself believe that I will make it, until one day, I really do. And I will. Right now I just...I feel like the world has more to offer me than I do it. And that's okay.

I imagine what all my friends are doing right now wherever they are. K and D in the UK. J and K in NY. My old roommate, my friends from high school....

I can't believe its October. Where has the year gone?

you can take everything i have

Long time no blog? Pretty much. Things have been pretty busy on my end for the past week and I haven't really found the time to sit down and blog. I started my job last Wednesday and have worked quite a few shifts since then. I've actually settled in nicely and am really liking working there. It can get a tad bit boring when there aren't any customers in the store, but we've constantly got movies playing and that really helps pass the time. It's a lot of standing which I am not 100% used to yet, so I need to find a comfier pair of shoes than converse. Lol. There is a downside though. We're going out of business probably by the end of the month/beginning of October which is fucking balls. I'm not exactly sure the exact date, but it sucks because I actually do like this job. And I feel like I'm sort of back to the beginning in terms of finding something to do now. I'm not even sure where to begin looking, but because I have been working, I feel like the process of finding a job is so much easier.

On Saturday, I did the NEDA walk in my city. It was phenomenal, and incredibly emotional. It was a weekend of hope. Just complete hope, love and belief. I feel like I have so much to say about it but I don't even know exactly how.

And then, of course, there is school, which STILL, I'm not even sure what is going on. After getting the job, I told him that there was a possibility of school happening for me, meaning my availability would now be different. And he was 100% okay with that. So, as of now, I do have Wed/Friday off. But I still have no idea what is going on in regards to school. I have dabbled in taking one class because that I can afford on my own, but my mom thinks I should just take all three, and then in the next breath doesn't even think I should be going. She is beyond back and forth on the matter and I can't even deal with her shit anymore. I STILL don't know what is going on, but just incase I do end up going to all three classes, I am going to attend all of them on Friday and see what happens. Hopefully, this all works itself out.

But of course, there is always another side. I'm scared. Okay, I'm a lot scared. I haven't been successful in the past, and I know that's because I was 100% invested into my eating disorder, but I don't know...reading over the course syllabus the other night...the fear settled in. The what if's, settled in and I'm scared that I would screw this up again. I'm "healthy," and I'm doing really well, but I'm still so fucking scared. I know fear isn't a reason to not, but fuck, it's catching me off guard a lot.

Sigh.

the safest way to fly is to know how to fall

I guess I'm just really frustrated with my life these days, which is a little bit weird considering that I have a lot going for me. I got the job, as I said earlier, and I start this Wednesday and I'm really excited about it. I'm excited to have money again. I'm returning to school the second week of September. My friend is coming to visit me in September...I have so much going for me, and I'm sitting in my bedroom right now just feeling really lost.

I hate to even post this, but I started this blog with the intention of just laying it all out there. So I am.

I don't know who I am separate from my eating disorder, or maybe...I don't know. Because I write that and I feel like, are you stupid, of course you know who you are. Look at this life you've got right now - look at the people who are in it...this is who you are separate from your eating disorder. I'm not saying I want to throw my life away and relapse, it's just that I'm struggling. I can feel the shift in the season and even though autumn is my favourite season, it means winter is coming and that has shifted something in me. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I can feel it. I lay awake at night long after I've shut my computer down just thinking about what my life was before all of this. I mean, before I rebuilt what I have today. Why the fuck do I hold onto that? Why do I so desperately cling onto the eating disordered Kim. I don't know. I fucking go through old journals and I seriously do not fucking recognize who I used to be, and in the next breath a part of me wants to recognize who I used to be. I want to be able to place my hand upon it and remember it. I feel like my life is just do disjointed and separated. Like nothing goes in order, like chunks are missing. Like who I was before does not add up to who I am now. I struggle with this, because I want a clear cut path. I want to follow myself to find out when I got here, but its like... it's like a different lifetime.

I'm so tired of things not making sense. I fucking crave and long to be apart of something, be apart of someone? I feel like this "family" hasn't been a family for a long time...especially with my dad's diagnosis. It should have brought us together, and it only made us drift farther. When I got sick I lost the relationship with my mother and I didn't know if it would ever be something we could salvage, and we did...but these days, I'm having a hard time wanting to be around her because I'm always her scapegoat for all the shit going wrong in her life, and theres a lot of it. I don't deny it. She has a lot on her plate, but somehow, she always finds a way to take that out on me. I've gotten to the point where I just can't even stand to put up with her...eventually, I'm going to stop caring one of these days and she'll have actually pushed me away. I just can't fucking deal with it anymore. It's too much.

My brother is also moving out on Thursday, thank god. These past 8 months have felt like an eternity. I can't stand him. I hate being around him. It fucking aches to be in the same breathing space as him. I don't know why I've been thinking so much about who my family was in the past....but I have been. We used to be, well, pretty close for such a big family. And my mom wanted nothing but the best for us. We didn't have a lot, but she gave us what she could and it breaks my fucking soul in half to know that my brother sold most of the childhood things she gave him so he could fucking buy beer or go to the bar or have money to spend on his trashy girlfriend who cheated on him and left him more times than I can count. I get it. We grow up, we sell the things we don't need...but I don't know, it hurts to know he sold the things she worked so hard for to buy...for things like alcohol.

I miss New York a lot right now. Maybe I just miss belonging.

i could sleep

Tonight, I'm just in a bad mood. No reason, I'm just grumpy. I'm grumpy because I just got all my pills out that I take every night, and it feels like too much effort, which sounds incredibly stupid because really, it doesn't take any effort at all to swallow a bunch of pills. But it feels like it's going to take all the effort in the world because most 21 year olds aren't taking like 6 pills before they go to bed. They aren't supplementing because they have shit ass bones and bodies and just everything ruined from years of an eating disorder. I'm just cranky. I'm just cranky because this is my life and I'm tired of it. Not in the suicidal kind of way, but just in the way of, I'm 21 and this is what I've done to myself.

I start work next Wednesday. I'm excited.

I'm still going to school. I'm beyond excited.

But for now, I am just going to force myself to take these pills, cuddle up in bed with cabenson bear (lol what?), watch old school ER and go to bed.

Being an adult

I know I've been an adult for quite a few years now, but I've never really...I don't know what the word is. I still live at home, meaning I have to follow my parents rules, and I get that, I do, but because of that, I consciously make all my decisions under my mom's supervision. In wanting to go to NYC in July, I knew that it could be a horrible financial decision and so, instead, I asked my mom if I could go instead of making the choice for myself...like most adults would. I guess I've been doing this for...well my entire adult life, and never really aware of it. I guess I believed that I still needed her "permission" on certain things.

And here I am, faced with making a really important "adult" decision that nobody can really make for me. And I can honestly say I don't know what is the right choice. I'm confused. I'm confused by what is right and what is easiest and...I guess, what is...not wrong, but...not the smart choice.

I got a job today. Yay. I needed a job no matter what. I've been out of work since December when I walked off my shit ass job, and I've suffered financially because of it. And now, I have a job...as school begins. I've been dreaming of returning to school since already taking a year off, and now I'm at a crossroad. When I applied for the job and had my interviews, I told them I wasn't returning to school and therefore my availability was completely open. But then something came up that made returning to school possible, while working.

What do I do? Do I take another semester or two off and work? Do I return to school and tell them right after they hired me that my availability has changed? I feel like...I feel like taking the semester off is just the easier option because I'm afraid to confront someone who has just hired me, but then I feel like maybe that is also the right choice - to be able to work more to save more. I don't know. I really don't.

And nobody can make this decision for me. I have to make it myself.

I have to be an "adult".

corner of your heart.

there is so much to write

and I don't even know where to start.

I think I'll just say, I'm glad I didn't quit therapy.

blindsided

I love that this always happens to me - I'm doing really well, eating disordered wise - I'll be on the right track and actually making an effort. As in, I'm eating everything that I'm supposed to, talking all my vitamins and supplements and THAT is when, Bam, something happens as a result of my eating disorder.

My tooth fell out. Well, thank god not all of it, but a good portion of it did...WHILE I WAS EATING ICE CREAM. ICE CREAM. Something that doesn't even require you to fucking chew. Something as soft as ice cream was enough to make a part of my tooth fall out. I called my mom sobbing about the whole ordeal, and through my tears as I explained what tooth it was and how it had happened, she asked me if it was a tooth that had been filled a few years prior, because perhaps it wasn't a part of the tooth, but instead the filling? I want to believe its a filling (I have white fillings in my teeth that have been filled so its hard to tell if its actually my tooth or the filling...), but when I run my tongue over the tooth, about 1/4 of the the tooth on the side is missing. I know what a "cavity" or dead hole feels like prior to being filled, and this doesn't feel like that. But of course, I won't know anything until I can get into the dentist. Which I have to wait until next month for so I will have insurance to cover any procedure that will have to be done. Sigh.

Seriously. FML.

08182011

jealousy is an ugly monster.

this could be the first day of my life

I've been neglecting blogging lately, and I'm not even sure why. But tonight I feel like there is so much to write about, even though I should probably go to bed since I have to be up early...

To start, I got a few anonymous formspring questions asking why I deleted the post about New York/Suicide. Simply, I reread it the next morning after posting and realized that although the point of this blog is to be openly honest about my struggles and my life, it was too personal to just put out in the blogosphere for anyone to read. It's also not what I want to associate New York with, ever. New York is my safe haven, my home, the love of my life, and although everything I was feeling was dark and, well, fucked up, it's not something I hold to New York. It's not a reflection of who I am and what I feel about the city, but rather a reflection of what was going on in my life at the time. No, I didn't save the post, no I don't have a copy of it anywhere, and no, I will not repost it or send it to anyone who asks for it (which is impossible, as like I said, I don't have a copy of it).

And now that that is out the of the way, we move onto school. So not only did financial aid not turn out the way I had hoped it too, I also realized I screwed up on the application. When applying you have to select your school and the program your registered into. Well, stupid me wasn't really paying attention I guess and picked "Contemporary Science (BSC)" instead of "Contemporary Arts (BSA)" which is the program I am enrolled in. So, I'm heading to campus first thing in the morning to try and get this sorted out before school starts.

School...it's still up in the air. I really don't know what is going to happen with it if I can't pull the money together. But I'm trying to think of ways that I can. The good thing is, I can do my tuition in installments, I'm pretty sure (will double check tomorrow). This was an option when I was at Laurier in 2008/2009. The downside was that, the more installments you chose to make payment in (like two payments instead of one lump sum) makes the price increase. Making smaller payments does make it easier to afford upfront, but it is more money in the longrun. I am going to clear this all out with financial aid tomorrow. Fingers crossed this all works out for me because I'm really fighting to get back in the fall. I know I said I was going to do this on my own, and I really want to do this all on my own, and this is a last resort, but if push comes to shove, I do have a back up plan. I don't want to have to use it, but, I mean, this is my education, my future, and it is something I have to fight for. And that may mean doing things that are hard and uncomfortable and not really on the top of my list, but it has to be done in order to do what needs to be done.

And on that same note, I'm still undecided about what the hell I am doing in terms of my degree. Everyone is telling me I shouldn't go back unless I'm 100% sure in what the hell I want to do, but I feel like...I feel like that's just such an awful restriction to put on myself. I know nobody takes me seriously anymore in regards to school and my major, which is why I'm so hush hush when people ask, but...A few months ago one of my good friends put a lot of things into perspective for me. She said: " You can be whatever you want to be. People put way too much pressure on themselves at way too young an age to figure out 'what they want to be'. Decide what you want to be now. And go do that. And if in 5 or 10 or 15 years you want to be something else, then go do that." I'm not rushing things this year. I'm not diving in, head first. I'm sort of just...dipping my toes back in. Getting a feel for what it is like to be a student again...navigating the waters. I'm not sure where I'll end up, but thats what this year is about - figuring it out. And I know, deep down, I know I can do this.

In other news, that is completely unrelated to school, I got a call today from the movie place for ANOTHER interview. I'm really excited about this, but at the same time, would just like this process to be over. I applied for this position before leaving for New York last month (July 15th) and even had an interview the day I applied. I had given up hope, but they called me a few days after I got home from the forest, for another interview. Even though I thought it didn't go as well as I hoped, it apparently did because they called my references and called me today about an interview next week. I feel like this is such a lengthly process for, well, a sub-standard part time job. Don't get me wrong, I really am thrilled, I just wish the process would end because at this rate, I'm going to be thrown into trying to get accustomed to a new job (if I do get hired) while starting school again at the same time. Not exactly how I had planned things to go. But, c'est la vie.

I guess that's really all that there is to say. I hate writing, "Oh, I'm doing really good these days," because I guess a part of me believes that its too good to be true. It was only a matter of weeks before things fell apart when I came home from New York in February, but here I am. It makes me wonder...when did I give up at the beginning of the year? When did I just...stop fighting? And more importantly, WHY? I have been thinking about this a lot lately, and the answer is, I don't know why. I don't know why things fell apart. Sure, it probably had a lot to do with things going on in my family, but I don't know, it just seems like there was...more to it. But, as much as this has been on my mind, I'm trying not to dwell on it. Because I've been home from New York for almost a month now, and of course, OF COURSE, I still miss it and miss J and everything about it, but it's not so suffocating. In fact, there are some nights I just lay awake realizing how truly lucky I am to love something and be a part of something that affects me so much. To know that regardless of what is happening here, where I am, where my reality is, there is always something...waiting for me. That's pretty remarkable...

And it's the reason why I will never stop fighting again for the rest of my life.

life in motion

"You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place."

don't slide

And once again, school is up in the air. When I did the original estimation for student aid they predicted a larger chunk of money than I had been expecting. While I know original estimations are based on minimal information and often are a couple of hundred dollars above what you actually get, I wasn't expecting the original estimation to be a couple THOUSANDS of dollars above what they are estimating now with all the in depth information.

They predict now half of what they originally predicted, which puts me in a predicament. (See what I did there?). While 60% of that aid is released in the first semester, I don't think its enough to cover tuition and student fees, without including the cost of commuting to school as well as textbooks. When I originally set on returning to school in the fall, I made sure my parents/family knew that I would be doing this on my own from them, financially wise, and that's really how I intend to do it. Which means, school may not be a possibility anymore. 60% of the aid would be pushing it to make it in payments because it leaves me in a lurch if I haven't found a job (which I'm still searching for and waiting to hear back from the movie place). Which makes me nervous. And the thing is, what they estimate now could be higher than what I am actually going to get.

Discouraged. I feel pretty discouraged about it. It makes me upset to know that come next month, I may not be in school YET again. But, I'm trying to remind myself that if that is the case, there is still January, and going back in January is better than taking ANOTHER year off. It's just, from this point, five months. And that feels like forever right now, does it ever, but it also gives me something to work towards. Because with student aid and any income from working, I could make it happen. It would be hard, and money would probably be really tight, but it is a possibility.

37 days until K comes from the UK and I can hardly, hardly, hardly wait.

your love compels me forward

Schedules for school have been posted. I can't even begin to tell you how I felt when my blackberry vibrated in my pocket yesterday with the email. Of course, I knew what classes I wanted to slash hoped to be taking in the Fall semester, but the fact that each course has now been designated a date and time, makes it just that much more real. And...frustrating.

I had forgotten just HOW frustrating it is to build a schedule. I was really sure in the three classes I wanted to take, but because of timing conflicts, I can't fit them all in. And thus begins the process of trying to find the times of my back up courses and somehow fitting those in. I really was hoping to condense my three classes into two days (well, one day would have been nice, but I knew a lot of my classes had T's on top of the actual L's that are NEVER on the same day) so I figured two days, hopefully side by side, would work out. Nope. Not at all. It's frustrating to have the L be offered on a friday and the T be offered the Tuesday. LOL. WHAT? But you know what, the days happen to suck, but my FAVOURITE prof is teaching it, which is a bonus. Yes, its less convient, but it works, right? And I'm probably going to have to push my schedule to three days instead of the original two. But guess what, it will have to work. I'm looking at somehow trying to fit Pop Culture into my schedule, and if I can't than Music in Film and if I can't than fairytales and fantasies. There's a english class being offered called The Nature of Autobiographies... AutoB's are my favourite kind of books to read, except there is no course description for the class and so I'm a bit ambivalent to sign up for it without knowing what the context of the course is...

In news other than school, I got a call today from my friend/former boss. Apparently the place I had a job interview at last week called her for a reference. Maybe the interview really DID go better than I thought it did - I mean the fact their checking up with my references. Maybe I did stand out? I'm cautiously optimistic, but it is very nice to know that they pursued A to get a reference about me. Fingers crossed!

when will you realize vienna waits for you.

Yesterday in the Apple Store, my sister asked me about school. She asked if I planned on going back to University in the fall and what exactly I was taking. Am I going back? I'm going to do everything in my power to get back. For the past few months I have been talking about switching from a general English degree into nursing. A part of me still feels this pull - into this major,  Which really makes me think, working as a nurse would be an ideal job for me. But I dont know if I'm smart enough. That's hard...that's hard to accept, because it was something I could see myself doing, long term, but I don't know if I would be able to hack it. So, it threw me off when she asked, because for months I have been planning on taking my required sciences to switch. And now...How do I tell people I've changed my mind, yet again...How will they take me seriously?

When I first started school in 08 I was in Journalism. At the time? Program was not for me. I was more focused on my eating disorder, which was clearly evident after being kicked out. I jumped from program to program and that's what I did for two years. I love Journalism, I love working under pressure and I love the general nature of it. Fuck, lets be honest, I loved my general English program at Ryerson, I was just too sick to care enough about school and making the best effort.

But, I've said it a million times, being out of school has taught me exactly how much I not only need to be in school, but how much I WANT to be in school. It's August, school is less than a month away, give or take, and all I can think about is stepping foot on campus again. All I can think about is being in class and learning and participating and writing essays and reading textbooks. Actually, reading them. The commute to school...all of it. Even the unglamorous~ side of school like waking up at 4 in the morning to catch my train in the middle of winter at 5am when its dark and cold on the platform. Trying to find a desk on the 8th floor of the library because its got the best light and view. School crowds my every thoughts these days, and I love it. I love thinking about it and dreaming about it and what I especially love, is planning HOW to make it happen and how to make that plan work.

I feel like I'm coming alive again. I feel like New York was that "push" I needed to realize that I was becoming "one" with my eating disorder again - as in, starting to view myself as my eating disorder, instead of realizing that I am not it and therefore, can live separate from it. That's the thing, it is 100% possible. I'm not sure how, I just...I know that it is. I'm so tired of it taking everything from my life. No, I'm so tired of LETTING it take everything from my life. Of laying down and idlely just giving up and taking the backseat in my life. I have SO much to fight for, I have so much going for me, and I need it to be enough, because its all that I have.

I feel pretty optimistic right now, and I know that at some point, I will feel like I've "lost" that. Who knows, I could have a fight with my mom tonight about school and feel exactly like I did two nights ago. That's life. You don't know whats going to happen, you never do, but you can choose how you respond to a situation.

so we could remember the lives we had?

Two posts two days in a row? I'm on a roll. But this is just too good to not share. I'm sitting in my bedroom right now shaking and crying and am just so overwhelmed in the most amazing possible way. It has taken SEVEN years; seven years of failed plans and attempts and everything under the sun, but finally, my best friend IS COMING TO VISIT ME.

I can't even... WHAT IS AIR?

i've still got sand in my shoes.

I feel like I had so much to say, so much to share and talk, talk talk. I sat down to write this blog post after putting it off all day, and I'm lacking a little bit on the words.

I came home from New York City over a week ago. It was hard, but not harder than anticipated. A few months ago, I seriously contemplated packing up the essentials and crashing on my friends couch to escape my life, for even a few days; dreaming of pretending to come home and really just floating from park bench to park bench in the city. Reinvent myself to be someone better than the person I am here. And it wasn't the money that held me back from going - it was the knowing that at some point, I would have to come home. That I would have to return to this life. You can run for a while, but sooner or later, your silhouette comes knocking at your door and you've got to slip back in. I remember how crushed I felt leaving the city in February, so I knew that would have been ten times amplified if I had just ran away from my life here.

And yet, although my reasons for going were purely for a break, to breathe again, I knew, somehow, that I would be okay when I came home. That I could come home and not fall apart. Could come home and hold onto what I New York and J gave me during my brief stay there. That's the thing about New York - no matter how many times you go, no matter how many places you visit and revisit, there is always something to give. And with that, comes sacrifice - all the pieces of myself I had to sacrifice in order to get from New York what it had to offer me. I feel lighter. I feel...happier?

I feel optimistic about my life - and I say that very cautiously, because I know where that has gotten me in the past. I'm so quick to make these decisions to really put an effort into working on things in my life which automatically makes me think I can do it on my own. In the car today I thought of all the things that were waiting for me in my life, both short term and long term; the goals I have for myself. And how I have to be healthy and keep my life in order to achieve them - as if that is enough. As if wanting something is enough. I sat there thinking, "Well, since I'm putting in an effort I'm going to quit therapy and do this all on my own." And it's bull shit. I know I need to still go to therapy, even though a part of me feels like a failure for needing too - failure for...needing help?

I need to work on this. I feel like who I was in my last session compared to now is huge. I feel I need to shift my goals and focus with my therapist because of the tremendous change I feel I have gone through. This...this is a more realistic and wise decision than quitting cold turkey and throwing myself into the world on my own. I've done that before. Look where I ended up?

Today is my first day truly home. Following New York, I instantly jetted off to the cottage and had another week away. It feels good to be home. It feels good to be in my own space, my own room, my own bed.

I miss New York. I miss J. I miss all of it. But not in the soul crushing, heart wrenching, gut aching way I'm used too.  It's different...

two weeks away feels like the whole world should have changed

Two choices.

I can go home and hold onto the amazing memories I made this week; hold onto that and let it fuel me back onto the path I was on when I came home in February. Optimistic, realistic and a solid grip on life.

Or, I can go back home, continue to relapse and derail my entire life yet again.

07172011

because we're going to get donuts tomorrow morning and I'm having a fucking panic attack and my friend's sleeping in the next room and I can't fathom having to eat a fucking donut tomorrow. But I hate being this gross, disgusting person and how do I say no and refuse and then what? Let her see the gross, diseased, miserable person that I truly am - that was hiding when I met her last year? I am so beyond worth nothing and I don't get why she cares about me, why she asked me to come because I fucking hate myself so god damn much and I don't understand how anybody can stand to be around me and I just want to sob and call V because I really don't think I can eat a donut tomorrow. I made a long standing promise to myself that I would never purge in J's apartment or engage in behaviors because I cared too much about her and respect her too much, but how do you fucking promise yourself that? It's like Februrary when she went to book club and all I did was go b/p in times square.

gross. needy. why. I fucking hate needing.

much further to go

I was a mess this morning after Harry Potter ended. When I finally got home I had about an hour to kill before I had to get my parents up to leave for the bus station. That's when the anxiety really started to kick in. Should I go? Do I deserve to go? What if the anxiety doesn't stop crawling up my spine and paralyzing me? Will my mom be okay for a whole week without me? Fuck, will I be okay without my mom for a whole week? Can I do this? Back and forth, back and forth, and I can't just quiet my mind down. It's always go, go, go.

With that being said, I am happy to be here. I cannot express what it felt like to throw my arms around my friend and exhale. To breathe in the city. Its 1230am right now and I hear sirens and traffic and people and subways and I want to soak it all up. I want to fall into every story, be a part of it, breathe it, live it. I want more, always want more even though I feel I have nothing to offer this city. I have nothing. I am nothing. Or so, that's how I feel these days.

Crying quietly in the next room over from my friend so it doesn't wake her because I don't deserve this, or her. I feel unworthy. I feel unworthy of the friendship. And I cried, I cried when she offered to come see me in Toronto because nobody has ever fucking just done that for me. I cried because I feel like the biggest piece of shit who does not deserve it. Deserve her. Diseased, miserable person that can't be around people like her in case I infect. Infect. Parasite. Gross. Fucking shit gross. I can't express the level in which I despise myself - the sinking, crawling, squirming feeling of wanting out of this skin. I want out.

Exhausted. Going to try and get some sleep now. Put on a brave face tomorrow. Get my shit together.

07132011

I feel too fat to go on this trip to see my friend. I just want to crawl out of my skin. I feel like I'm rotting from the inside out. Disgusting. Digusting. Disgusting.

That is how I feel.

i know everything will be alright?

It's booked. The ticket is booked. I'm going. And I am so incredibly anxious about it. I'm actually really happy that I have a therapy appointment tomorrow to talk about why I'm feeling so anxious and try to do something about it.

Don't even get me wrong, I know that once I am there I will be okay and all this anxiety will dissipate and I will be able to enjoy myself and have a good time and everything. I felt very similar in February before heading out, but now things are a little more intense. Money is more tight, I'm less focused and balanced...Basically, I'm a mess. But I recognize this. I recognize that the way I am going is not a way I want to go, nor can it be an option. I'm trying to do the things I know I need to do, like therapy and actually trying to follow a meal plan.

I guess what I struggle with is the fact that the only reason my mom was supportive of me going on this trip is because she thinks it will "fix me." Like New York is some kind of therapeutic treatment center or something. That worries me, because I feel that when I come home she will expect more of me. I'm afraid that I will expect more of me; that I will have to fall into this role of perfect girl whose got it all together. Who can find a job and then balance that on top of paying of student loans and still going to school and staying healthy and being able to make it work. I can't. I'm not saying its impossible, because it is possible. And I know that I am ABLE to do that, but I also recognize that won't happen after a week in New York - that it will take time and a lot of work and a lot of more mistakes to figure things out. I know this, but sometimes, its so hard to remind myself of this, especially when I'm fighting with my mom and feeling like I've let her down. Back in February she told me that when I came home I had to pull my pants up and find a job and start shit. And its now July, and what do I have to show for the past 4 months?

I hope that this time away and with my friend will be able to help me clear my mind enough to come home with a better grasp on myself. A better grasp on how to sit down on my own and devise a blueprint of what I want short term and how I'm going to achieve it; something concrete as a base so that I don't feel like I'm constantly spinning my wheels aimlessly.

This was a giant mess of a post...but that's okay, I think.

i'm coming home to breathe again, to start again.

My head is a little bit clearer today, which I didn't expect because my anxiety got a better hold of me than the natural rhythm of day to day life and resulted in my camping out in my bedroom trying not to act out on any behaviors. But I digress...

I'm going "home." I consider New York to be my home, even though it's not really where I live, but its where my heart is, where my soul is - it's where I know I am supposed to be. I'm the person I am supposed to be when I am there and things just seem clearer and easier and not so heavy. It's beautiful, but it's also hard, because as much as it is my home, my reality is here in Canada and it will be here for a very long time with all the ties and commitments and responsibilities I have to it. This is something I really struggled with at the beginning of the year when I came home from NY in February. It was agonizing. I didn't want to get out of bed because it just felt all so god damn heavy and sad and unbearable. And it was so easy to close my eyes and plan a life in New York and how to get there - use school as an excuse to move, or save up enough money and then live pay cheque to pay cheque for a year or two and figure things out. But it isn't that simple. It's not. My reality is here. My family is here. My life...is here. But, that doesn't mean I can't pack up a few of my things and visit my friends and the city when I need to come up for air. Being here, in Canada, can feel a lot like drowning on dry land with all the shit that goes on. I'm actually so grateful my friend emailed me inviting me to come and stay with her - it's a break I'm looking forward too, immensely. When I posted the other day, my plan was to leave next week, but with July being as crazy busy as it is I had to postpone until the first week of August. It's pretty far away, but at least I know that it is there. That I have a date in sight to hold onto and look forward too.

I'm still super anxious about the behaviors. I'm hoping though that by going back on my anxiety medication this week will help me to better deal with all the anxiety that seem to be drowning me lately. I don't expect it to solve everything, or suddenly make my life a cake walk, but I feel it in combination with therapy will help me to come up with way better coping mechanisms than what I have got. But I'm cautiously optimistic...

Speaking of therapy, I haven't really made a post about it. I started therapy again last month with a new therapist from the hospital I was admitted to when I was 16. I've only had one session so far, but she is super nice and once we got past the initial awkwardness, things were actually shockingly comfortable. I don't ever have much luck getting comfortable with therapists/psychologists (minus Dr. Carter from TGH's ED unit), so I really lucked out. It was all pretty standard for my first session. She talked about herself, I talked about myself just so we could get a better idea about each other. I have another appointment on Friday and she said that's when we'll jump into things more than we did last time.

I guess that is about it for now.

i took the train all the way to brooklyn heights

I'm going to New York next week, and I want to say that just knowing that in less than 7 days I will be reunited with one of my closest friends and in my favourite place in the world is making me happy. But it is really starting to just stress me out. I'm trying to force myself onto some sort of "normal" meal plan because I can't be engaging in ED behaviors while I am with her. This is a promise I made to myself a long time ago, not to mention, lacking funds right now I shouldn't even be going and so the fact that I am - I need to make the most of it.

I wish I had more energy to write an actual update, but I've got a killer headache & I am exhausted.

and life goes on

It does - no matter what happens, life goes on, even if we don't always want it too. I knew saying goodbye to my Uncle was going to be painful and sad and hard, but I didn't expect it to be so unbearable; for it to affect me so deeply. Yes, he was my Uncle, of course it's going to hurt, but there is so much history behind the relationship that doesn't need to be dug up. It's over. It doesn't matter who hurt who and who stopped coming around or who really didn't put in the effort in the last few years. What matters is that he was my Uncle, and he passed away. It is sad. It is going to be sad for the rest of my life.

His funeral service brought up many memories of my Aunt, whom I was very close with. I wasn't expecting it to turn into almost a small tribute to her, but in a way, it did. And I cried. I cried for all the moments I have lost over the past 6 years she hasn't been a part of my life. I feel robbed. Cancer robbed me of my Aunt, of her seeing me graduate high school, or her seeing me get better, of traveling the world, of new years parties and everything else we should have gotten to do together. I miss her. It hurts like a son of a bitch. I felt like I didn't just say goodbye to my Uncle on Tuesday; I felt like I said goodbye to her...again. And there is a dull ache in my heart that I don't quite know how to deal with.

But of course, what's life if you don't get kicked again a few more hundred times after an already craptacular week. I have been having problems with a "friend" for...over a year now. And I hate myself for even saying that, because the fact that it's been fight after fight for over a year now is just an indication to end things, and I have been too much of a coward to do so. I always cave in; I always give one more chance, one more chance and here we are about seven thousand chances later. I don't even want to get into it, but what was said hurt; it stung. Maybe its jealously, maybe its anger, maybe its just annoyance or a whole combination of all of them and them some, but I guess I'd rather cut the people out of my life who make me miserable and be lonely, instead of holding onto them and feeling the way I felt last night. Sometimes, I wonder if its just because of who I am or the things I've been through that make it so hard to be a part of my life. I don't know.

And in addition to the funeral and friend drama, there also is work and family drama. No, I still don't have a job, but I have to deal with crap from my old job tomorrow...in court. I've known about this since January, and believe me, I am not impressed. I don't want to go to court, I don't want to talk, I don't want to be involved in any sort of manner. I always used to be the person who would watch shit television about law and judge the victim for not wanting to put the bad guy behind bars. That's me now. Not giving two fucks. My anxiety is on high already about the whole situation, and what makes it worse is figuring out how I'm even going to get there in the first place. I feel like a giant inconvenience because I don't have my own car, or the proper license to get anywhere and with only one parent that can drive, it makes getting around pretty hard. And everyone makes it seem like its such an inconvenience in their schedule to have to get me there. I hate feeling like that and I do believe that sometimes people's lives would be easier if I just wasn't around. I know how that sounds, and no, I'm not going to throw myself off a bridge, but sometimes I think people lives were easier when I was in the hospital or when I lived on my own.

I just really would like to catch my breath.

overwhelming sadness

I've spent the day laying in bed sleeping on and off and feeling sorry for myself. Just when I thought yesterday couldn't get any worse, my world got turned upside down.

My uncle passed away.

It was sudden, and to be honest, I don't know why I am so shocked. The man has been through so much, so much heartbreak these past few years. Just two weeks ago his son had a heart attack and died. His wife, my Aunt, passed away in 2005 after she lost her battle to breast cancer. I like to believe that they are together again, six years later. Amidst the sadness, I have to believe they finally found each other again last night and are once again, fully together. I have to.

I don't have anything poetic to say. I don't really have much of anything to say. I disabled my wall on facebook because not many people in the family know yet and we have to call people tonight so I am trying to keep it off facebook. If you know me and have me on facebook, please don't comment on a status or tag me in anything in regards to my Uncle's death. I just don't want someone else in my family finding out through my facebook.

"Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our losts ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."

wandering lost

I feel very standstill. I feel like there is no purpose in my life. I feel like there is no reason for me to be here. I feel no attachment to this world. No, this isn't a suicide letter. I'm not planning on killing myself - I'm just struggling to find direction and purpose in my life. It's hard when I don't have school or a job or really many friends in this area to get out and do things.

Today was a horrible day in general. There is a lot of family drama going on right now and it's stressing me out beyond belief. And I of course have terrible coping methods which of course doesn't help the situation either. I also stupidly decided to check the balance of my credit card this morning which sent me into a whole fit because I went into overdraft without realizing it and my lack of a job makes that impossible to pay off. I don't want to keep borrowing money from my parents and my sisters, so that just was really upsetting. And then I really missed my friend who lives in New York and I really wanted to be hanging out with her and just, well, escaping my reality.

Here's what I realized while laying on a park bench on Main Street. Running isn't going to solve all my problems. New York isn't going to solve all my problems. Being with J isn't going to solve all my problems. It's a temporary fix. I remember what I felt like when I came home from the city in February after spending a week with J. I was devastated. I was upset. I didn't know what to do with myself and spent time just feeling sorry for myself in bed. I guess while I was there I sort of forget that everything I had just left behind would still be waiting for me when I got back. And that's just the thing, everyday the weight of all the things I carry does get heavier, but because its a day to day process, its not very noticeable. Take yourself out of that for five days and come back, and its like being hit in the face with a bag of bricks. I was thrown back into my life and my problems and my responsibilities and everything I had run away from. I honestly don't even think I would be able to make it through the "coming home" portion if I had just picked up and left for New York tonight like I had planned. My life is here. My responsibilities are here. Unfortunately, so are my problems. And even if I left for New York with no intentions of coming back, my problems would follow me. You can run for a while, but you can't hide forever.

I am trying to remind myself that come September, I will return to school. I have to hold until September. That's what I have been wanting, isn't it? A date? Some sort of set point. I guess when I walked off my job in December, school was still up in the air and there was no "Okay, you will be back at a job/school on this day so you just have to wait until then." It was all, what if I never find direction? What if I never find a job or go back to school and aimlessly spin my wheels forever. September gives me something to hold onto. If I don't find a job from now until September, there is still something waiting for me - that is dependent on me; my attachment to this world. This has been one of the hardest years of my life, I'm tired of being fucking kicked to the ground - my break has to be coming soon, right? Things have to look up? September. I just got to hold onto September and slowly, if I work really hard, things can start to look up.

It's a process. I'm not investing my happiness into school because it only sets me up for failure. I realize in order to be happy - I have to create it. School won't give it to me. Working hard and succeeding at school is creating happiness. In order to work hard and succeed at school, I have to be healthy. It's all a chain. I know I can do it.

Still, it would be nice if I could go to sleep and wake up and it would be September.

Awkward?

I guess I'm still really sensitive about a lot of things. I woke up fairly late this morning and everybody was sort of doing their own thing. My sisters were in one room talking and the minute I walked in they suddenly decided to disperse. So I went and made myself some breakfast, came back upstairs and ate it. When I went to bring my dishes downstairs they had resumed talking (in a different room) and the minuet I walked in, dispersed again. That's when I started to get the feeling that maybe they were not necessarily talking about me, but just didn't want to include me. So I played with my cat for a bit and when I came upstairs they were talking in the hallway and when I saw me, went into one of their bedrooms and closed the door. They made plans to go out to one of our favourite dessert places and then go to the festival that is happening a few towns over. I guess I wasn't invited.

Now, I don't know about anyone else, but I get really awkward in these situations and my mom always tells me that I should just ask if I can come. And I guess on some level she is right - if I want to know if I can come, I should just ask. But I am awkward about these kind of things because if that person really doesn't want me to come one of two things is going to happen. One, they're going to invite me because they themselves are too awkward to say no (and the entire time be pissed that I am there), or two, they're going to say no (and I'm going to then have to struggle with even deeper feelings of rejection). So I find its easier to just stay quiet.

I guess I'm just upset that I wasn't invited to get out of my house for a bit. Always being at home has sort of made be go a bit stir crazy so I jump on every opportunity to get out of the house because everyone else in my family has an outlet to leave whether its work or an extra curricular activity or a car to just get up and leave.

Sigh. I wish it was just as simple as getting on a bus and going to New York to be with friends.

introductions

I always, always, always, give up on blogs after I start them, but I'm going to try and stick legit with this one. I posted a few things at wordpress, but didn't really like the site, so here I am, blogspot.

I'm so turned around in my sleeping patterns. I have a hard time going to sleep at night, and I know that its because I sleep in everyday till almost one in the afternoon. It's so strange because just a few short months ago I was going to bed at 1030-11pm every night and getting up just before eight am. But that was when I was healthy; that is when I cared about myself and therefore took care of myself. It hasn't been like that for a while now...

I've been trying to convince myself these past few days that I can't let myself fall further into my eating disorder - that there is too much for me to lose and too much to fight for. I rebuilt a life out of nothing - literally, nothing. I have "dreams" and "goals" after wandering around aimlessly for years just spinning my wheels. I have friends beyond the eating disorder world; friends who didn't know the girl I was (am?) when I was sick. Sometimes in the quietest hours of the night I can sometimes feel a dull ache of what my life would be like without all these things I worked for; all these things that are apart of my life as a result of all the things I lost and had to give up.

Tomorrow I am going to try and break this stupid cycle of waking up late. I'm going to set my alarm for around 6:30am and try to be out of the house at 7am for a run. I would like to do running at the track until I can build up my stamina to run. Things like the 100m dash and the 200m dash and 400m. I need to get some exercise back into my life. I haven't exercised in probably a week and I can feel it. Not that I have much energy these days.

I'm going to go and try and read more of my book and then sleep. 6:30am comes early no matter what.