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.