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.