I read through my blog the other day and I am just so sad for my younger self. My posts read like a pre-teen wrote them, all drama and no substance, but the truth is that I remember how scared I used to be. It was constant voices in my head picking me apart, constantly having to be on high alert for the next situation in which food would be involved, constantly lying to the people I loved. It was exhausting. It was eating an entire candy bar with a smile only to spend the next two weeks replaying every single chew and hating myself for it. It was imaging putting a gun to my head but not being able to because I was positive that people would come to my funeral only to talk about how fat I was. None of that made it on to my blog, because I didn't have to tell you guys that. You knew. You lived it with me.
Looking back, I can admit to myself that I was probably never truly in recovery. I still obsessed about every calorie going into my mouth, and there was never a time where I was simply okay with eating the amount I should have been. I spent my time begging to throw up or slicing into my skin to punish myself. Honestly, there was not one single day all throughout that period where I even came close to normal eating. Even if I ingested all of the calories I was supposed to, they came from a binge. I wrote about losing my mind one day when I had all three meals, and then never replicated that incident again. I was obsessed with losing weight, but couldn't admit to myself how deeply entrenched in this I actually was. I didn't want to be eating disordered anymore, but I still wanted to disappear. Maybe that sentence should be in present tense.
I keep thinking back to the way old Blogger used to be, before everyone abandoned it. Remember when we would all log on and show each other pictures of our new haircuts, gossip excitedly about our real life thinspo, and roll our eyes as we typed out how our teacher/friend/colleague/random person commented on how good we looked? Half of my brain yearns so much for that again because it was solidarity, it was not having to be so goddamned alone all the time, but the other half recognizes that it had the potential to be sincerely unhealthy. I know that for me, every single number is a competition. Even still, after so many years of "recovery", when I hear someone's BMI or how much they weigh, or how many calories they burned at the gym, I have to physically stop myself from trying to be better than them.
(The other day my friend posted a picture from his treadmill that stated how many calories he had burned and I had my hands on my keys and was finding my gym card before I even realized what was happening. I don't want to think like this anymore.)
The girls I used to be friends with on here haunt me. I have an entire spreadsheet of hundreds of blogs that I used to read, and 90% of them are ghost towns now. Realistically, some had to have beat this, right? But also some had to have...not. I wonder which category I will fall into. It has been almost five years since I first started this blog, but my eating disorder was very much prevalent before that. That's such a large chunk of my life, how much more of this can I possibly do? But also, how could I even think about not doing this anymore?
I don't have it in me to continue this way. As much as it pains me to admit it, I cannot take care of myself without supervision. I have a roommate who I never see and a mother who does not notice when I come home smaller than I was before and this freedom has allowed me to restrict. No one watches me the way they used to, and I simply don't have the energy to fight with my own fucking head about having breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It seems pointless. I know what the outcome will be, why waste all of that energy?
I am struggling so much.
My hair is falling out by the handful every day. I have to clean my brush after every use because so much of it comes out. My nails are so brittle that tapping them against the table will shatter them. My metabolism has mostly kept trucking, but I am always so tired, always so cold, always so preoccupied with calories and exercise and the size of my fucking thighs. And the worst part? I am STILL nowhere near the weight I want to be. Cue hysterical laughing.
I hope that every one is doing so much better than I am. Please reach out if you need anything at all.
<3 Lee
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
Sunday, January 14, 2018
'Cause I Was Never Taught to Give It Up
It took a lot of faith to fight my battles and tackle a couple of habits I never thought that
I’d have to
But did, bottle the water under the bridge and toss another written page of my history to the wind
When it blows, cause all of this disaster has lead me home and left a lot of room for me to learn to grow
Yeah you are not alone
Third day in a row of posting, so I guess pretty soon it'll be time to disappear for three or so years haha.
Do y'all believe in signs?
I do. When the boy left me, I asked the universe for so many signs. I need to know whether it was time to move on from him or not. We've been best friends since we were fifteen, and he was my first love. We had plans to move in together and probably get married soon. I want so badly for there to be a reason we keep coming back to each other. But I don't know if the signs I'm receiving are because I so desperately want to see some or if they're actually there. I am still so angry. I am still so hurt. I am still so completely in love with him. Thinking about being with someone else makes me sick. And there have been so many signs. I got a piece of mail from his branch of the armed forces, the plane shook while I was praying "if we're meant to be together, have us encounter turbulence", I saw a license plate with his initials, and every single book I pick up either mentions his name or the place he was stationed at while we were together, just now as I was writing this, I somehow found a piece of paper that has to do with him under my leg even though I have no idea how it got onto my bed, plus a million other smaller ones. Or am I looking for all of these things? Am I so preoccupied with him that I unconsciously note these coincidences while letting the signs I'm not supposed to be with him pass me by?
I am just really fucking struggling.
In other news, I don't know how much I weigh. I mean, I stepped on the scale and took note of the number that popped up because of course I did, I'm eating disordered. But my scale does this cute lil thing where it shows 15.6 pounds higher than what is accurate. I don't know how to fix it. First time I stepped on it I almost killed myself right then and there. So. I know the number it showed me, but I have yet to subtract the 15.6 from it. I obviously have a rough idea, because I can do simple math like that, but I'm putting off figuring out the official number for as long as possible because right now I can keep telling myself "well at least I'm definitely not this weight" and feel okay about it. Knowing the real number would mean throwing away the last vestige of my sanity and giving myself completely back to the constant number game.
And of course a little voice inside me asks: what would be so bad about going back?
This entire post is clunky and terrible but so am I sooooooooo at least I'm consistent.
My roommate came home today, which is fine, I like her, but I wasn't expecting her back until Monday and I had all these plans to clean before she got here but now I'm hiding in my room because my anxiety says its been way too long since she arrived to go say hi now, and the apartment is terrible so she thinks you're terrible and its better to just stay holed up even though I'm am literally so freaking thirsty.
Its casual.
Okay y'all. It's time to wrap this up. I hope everyone is doing okay.
<3 Lee
I’d have to
But did, bottle the water under the bridge and toss another written page of my history to the wind
When it blows, cause all of this disaster has lead me home and left a lot of room for me to learn to grow
Yeah you are not alone
Third day in a row of posting, so I guess pretty soon it'll be time to disappear for three or so years haha.
Do y'all believe in signs?
I do. When the boy left me, I asked the universe for so many signs. I need to know whether it was time to move on from him or not. We've been best friends since we were fifteen, and he was my first love. We had plans to move in together and probably get married soon. I want so badly for there to be a reason we keep coming back to each other. But I don't know if the signs I'm receiving are because I so desperately want to see some or if they're actually there. I am still so angry. I am still so hurt. I am still so completely in love with him. Thinking about being with someone else makes me sick. And there have been so many signs. I got a piece of mail from his branch of the armed forces, the plane shook while I was praying "if we're meant to be together, have us encounter turbulence", I saw a license plate with his initials, and every single book I pick up either mentions his name or the place he was stationed at while we were together, just now as I was writing this, I somehow found a piece of paper that has to do with him under my leg even though I have no idea how it got onto my bed, plus a million other smaller ones. Or am I looking for all of these things? Am I so preoccupied with him that I unconsciously note these coincidences while letting the signs I'm not supposed to be with him pass me by?
I am just really fucking struggling.
In other news, I don't know how much I weigh. I mean, I stepped on the scale and took note of the number that popped up because of course I did, I'm eating disordered. But my scale does this cute lil thing where it shows 15.6 pounds higher than what is accurate. I don't know how to fix it. First time I stepped on it I almost killed myself right then and there. So. I know the number it showed me, but I have yet to subtract the 15.6 from it. I obviously have a rough idea, because I can do simple math like that, but I'm putting off figuring out the official number for as long as possible because right now I can keep telling myself "well at least I'm definitely not this weight" and feel okay about it. Knowing the real number would mean throwing away the last vestige of my sanity and giving myself completely back to the constant number game.
And of course a little voice inside me asks: what would be so bad about going back?
This entire post is clunky and terrible but so am I sooooooooo at least I'm consistent.
My roommate came home today, which is fine, I like her, but I wasn't expecting her back until Monday and I had all these plans to clean before she got here but now I'm hiding in my room because my anxiety says its been way too long since she arrived to go say hi now, and the apartment is terrible so she thinks you're terrible and its better to just stay holed up even though I'm am literally so freaking thirsty.
Its casual.
Okay y'all. It's time to wrap this up. I hope everyone is doing okay.
<3 Lee
Saturday, January 13, 2018
Releasing With Your Hands (T.W Rape)
But the rain can't wash you if you're laying in the dirt
And the pain can't change you if you blame it on the hurt
I don't know why I'm here. Which is true of life in general, but more applicable to right here, right now. I don't know why I'm back on Blogger. Maybe it's more comforting to release these words out into the internet where there is a chance someone can read this, reach out to me, and tell me I'm not as desperately alone as I feel. It's not like I've ever been a big blog, obviously, but I reread all of my posts last night and the outpouring of love and acceptance I used to get really overwhelms me. It reminds me of a different time in my life when I didn't have to be drunk to feel genuine happiness.
In September of 2014, I wrote 'This man, he looked right at me and said "When you are angry, when you refuse to forgive someone for something they have done, that's you handcuffing yourself to that person and letting them tag along with you for the rest of your life. You have to overcome the bitterness."
But what if I can't??'
That was almost three and a half years ago and I still have not uncuffed myself. I still have yet to label myself "survivor". Instead, I watch spoken word poetry on the subject and try to imagine telling my therapist that I was raped. It is too difficult for me to face, so instead I continue to pretend like that event has not tainted every piece of my life, has not affected every detail of me, has not dictated the way I allow myself to love and be loved.
And the pain can't change you if you blame it on the hurt
I don't know why I'm here. Which is true of life in general, but more applicable to right here, right now. I don't know why I'm back on Blogger. Maybe it's more comforting to release these words out into the internet where there is a chance someone can read this, reach out to me, and tell me I'm not as desperately alone as I feel. It's not like I've ever been a big blog, obviously, but I reread all of my posts last night and the outpouring of love and acceptance I used to get really overwhelms me. It reminds me of a different time in my life when I didn't have to be drunk to feel genuine happiness.
In September of 2014, I wrote 'This man, he looked right at me and said "When you are angry, when you refuse to forgive someone for something they have done, that's you handcuffing yourself to that person and letting them tag along with you for the rest of your life. You have to overcome the bitterness."
But what if I can't??'
That was almost three and a half years ago and I still have not uncuffed myself. I still have yet to label myself "survivor". Instead, I watch spoken word poetry on the subject and try to imagine telling my therapist that I was raped. It is too difficult for me to face, so instead I continue to pretend like that event has not tainted every piece of my life, has not affected every detail of me, has not dictated the way I allow myself to love and be loved.
How do you begin to forgive someone who you truly believe does not deserve forgiveness?
How do you begin to heal?
I do not want to be the person who hurts others because they cannot process their own hurt anymore. I do not want to be my father. I do not want this continuous cycle of violence that has been synonymous with my last name. I do not want to be incapable of letting another human being in.
I feel more okay about the future than I ever have before. Most days I can silence the anxiety and dread that swirls within me when I think about what comes next in terms of long-term plans. And yet I still find myself white-knuckling it every day, willing every fiber of my being to not step in front of that semi, do not stop your car on the train tracks and wait for the train to come, do not go buy a gun, do not spend all of your money on pills, do not disassemble your pencil sharpener, do not buy a rope and test how sturdy that ceiling fan is etc etc etc.
We did this activity in the psych ward where one person sat in the middle of this huge tarp, and the others gathered the edges of it in their hands and pumped it up and down as hard as they could. It was a metaphor for anxiety, because while you were in the middle, all you could see was the tarp waving all around you, never ceasing. Anxiety doesn't let you take a step back. It grabs you and holds you as tight as it can until you cannot remember how to breathe. Meanwhile, all around you are the sounds of your friends laughing and joking, and you do not want to ruin their fun by exclaiming "Help! I am drowning in this!" so you endure it silently until your turn is over and it is time to crawl back to the edge of the tarp.
I think about this activity a lot, probably for all of the wrong reasons. It was supposed to teach you that if you would just look up from the anxiety, you would see your whole support system standing around you, ready to do anything they could to lessen the pain. But instead it taught me that no one will ever be there for you when you really need them to be. It is all on you and you alone.
My trauma will always only belong solely to me. I have to learn how to be okay with that, how to process that, how to overcome that all on my own. More than anything in the entire world, I do not want to be here again three years from now writing about how I haven't yet figured out how to uncuff myself.
Dear Bella, you said you found my last post uplifting, and so if you are reading this, I am very sorry for how dismal this one turned out to be.
I love you all, please know you can always talk to me about anything.
<3 Lee
Thursday, January 11, 2018
The Comeback Kid
It's only been like a year and a half since I last posted, I'm sure y'all didn't even notice I was gone right? Lol. There's been a lot of changes in my life. I hit an ultimate high weight (surprise, I'm still eating disordered! Shocker). I started my junior year of college. I fell really hard for a guy from my past only to have it disintegrate in front of my eyes and land me in a psych ward. Losing him was so unbelievably hard because I thought I was going to marry him. We had our whole lives planned out, and when he didn't come back, I kind of lost it and tried to kill myself yet again. This time though, the hospital took it seriously and they slapped me with a 72 hour hold and dumped me in the psych ward. It was scary and hard but it ended up being one of the best things to ever happen to me. I met some of the kindest, funniest, most beautiful souls in the world, and got the opportunity to open up about some of my trauma and then just laugh about it. It was the most freeing thing I've ever done. When I got out, I decided I needed to start actually working through my problems, so for the first time in my entire life, I talked about growing up in a concrete way. With my previous therapists, I had always said stuff like "growing up was hard" or "my dad was...tough" but this time I fully admitted to her that he had abused me. She gave me a PTSD diagnosis, which wasn't surprising, because I knew I had it, I had just never admitted it to myself. It was scary, but I did it and I am a better person for it. I'm working on being friends with the guy who broke me. I gained my long-time friendship with a guy named C back, after months of not talking over hurt feelings and unsaid apologies. I fooled around with a previous ex and then gained the maturity to end things before he got hurt. I got right with God. I started analyzing my bad behaviors and figuring out where they stemmed from and learning how I can fix them. 2017 was objectively the best year of my life, but it was so spectacularly brutal too. I can't lie, being alive is so f-ing hard you guys. But I know that 2018 is going to be a good year. I can feel it. I really hope y'all can too.
I love you.
<3 Lee
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
The Killers
My friend has this sticky note pinned above her desk that has a quote from The Killers written on it. It says "I'm so much older than I can take" and if that doesn't sum things up, I don't know what will.
I am so tired.
I am so tired of living in this body in this world that can't ever seem to get anything right. I am too large, too loud, too awkward, generally just not enough and too much all at once.
I live with someone who is basically my sister reincarnated. It's really weird and it makes me miss her sometimes. She calls, but I never answer because how am I supposed to tell her "Sorry I never came to see you when your baby died. I was busy trying to kill myself." She'd go nuts. She'd call my parents screaming and that's the last thing I need.
I am so weary.
I'm finally getting my life together, but it's like I'm still missing out on so much.
My sleep schedule is mostly okay now, but I didn't sleep well last night and therefore accidentally slept through my gym time this evening. That wasn't fun. But I did buy myself a book that I've been waiting for forever. It got released today and since I was already in the town that the nearest bookstore is in (a good 16 miles away from where I live), I bought it.
Long story short, from the book, I got a tattoo idea and a bunch of signs from the universe that I'm supposed to go to Portland soon. I'm real big on following signs from the universe, so I'll probably go with some friends next summer.
I don't want to step on the scale, but I also can't just...not. So. There's that. I'm gonna take my body measurements and do some before pictures pretty soon. Maybe I'll post them. We'll see.
This post was everywhere, but I'm just trying to get back in the swing of posting things so that's okay.
Hope y'all are doing okay.
<3 Lee
I am so tired.
I am so tired of living in this body in this world that can't ever seem to get anything right. I am too large, too loud, too awkward, generally just not enough and too much all at once.
I live with someone who is basically my sister reincarnated. It's really weird and it makes me miss her sometimes. She calls, but I never answer because how am I supposed to tell her "Sorry I never came to see you when your baby died. I was busy trying to kill myself." She'd go nuts. She'd call my parents screaming and that's the last thing I need.
I am so weary.
I'm finally getting my life together, but it's like I'm still missing out on so much.
My sleep schedule is mostly okay now, but I didn't sleep well last night and therefore accidentally slept through my gym time this evening. That wasn't fun. But I did buy myself a book that I've been waiting for forever. It got released today and since I was already in the town that the nearest bookstore is in (a good 16 miles away from where I live), I bought it.
Long story short, from the book, I got a tattoo idea and a bunch of signs from the universe that I'm supposed to go to Portland soon. I'm real big on following signs from the universe, so I'll probably go with some friends next summer.
I don't want to step on the scale, but I also can't just...not. So. There's that. I'm gonna take my body measurements and do some before pictures pretty soon. Maybe I'll post them. We'll see.
This post was everywhere, but I'm just trying to get back in the swing of posting things so that's okay.
Hope y'all are doing okay.
<3 Lee
Thursday, September 1, 2016
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack
Hey y'all! I'm just gonna start by jumping right into what I've been up to the last few months.
Last year was my Freshman year of college, and I had a blast for awhile there, but eventually everything fell apart as usual. I had a good friend, and a nephew both die and that destroyed me. My grandpa was having health problems, I broke with a few good friends (for the better!), and it all resulted in me not ever attending class second semester. So. I failed all those classes and having never failed anything in my life, that was pretty fucking terrible y'all. But it's okay, I'm back and I'm doing okay.
I live in a house with three other girls and I HATE one of them. I'll call her L. Oh my God. Shoot me. One of them is EXACTLY like my sister (A)and let me tell you, it's real weird living with her. She constantly yells at our other roommate K., which makes me feel bad for K. But it's a roof over my head so that's good.
I'm trying to drop out of my sorority for various reasons but the girl who's in charge of processing that basically told me "If you stay for another year, you can be Alum, and during this year you won't have to pay dues or go to any events or anything". Uhm. Okay? Sounds good??
I'm starting a fitness plan soon (I know, I know, when AREN'T I starting a fitness plan, right?) But I think this time it'll be for real (quit laughing) because my best friend and I are going to hike this incline that is basically 2,744 stairs straight up a mountain sooooo if I don't follow through on this plan, that's for real going to suck. Let's hope it sticks.
I'm heavier than I've ever been in my entire life so there's that.
I had this terrible break up awhile ago and it's still fucking me up, but I think I'm finally starting to heal from it.
I'm taking this dance class as one of my courses at college and I was pretty worried about it because I am in no way physically fit at all, but it's actually super fun, all the people are nice, and I nailed my choreography last class which is something I have tons of trouble with so yay me!
I've been super on top of my homework and I think this semester is going to be really good for me. I live about 5 minutes walking distance away from a counseling center so I'm thinking of going back to therapy. It's so close, I kind of don't have a reason not to. The only thing stopping me from doing it is this deal I've made with myself that if I go back to therapy I have to actually work through my issues instead of doing what I normally do and pretend like I'm fine. The truth is, I know exactly why I'm so fucked up. I just can't bear admitting it out loud. If I go back, I'm going to have to remember something I spent a long time and a huge amount of energy trying to forget. So...Idk but I'll make a decision soon.
I also tried to kill myself on April 4th, and soon after my mom got me a dog so that was unexpected. She doesn't live with me at my house though, she stays with my mom and I really miss her.
Anyway, I'm glossing over a lot of things, but I'm just real excited to be back. I hope everyone has been doing real well.
Love y'all
<3 Lee
Last year was my Freshman year of college, and I had a blast for awhile there, but eventually everything fell apart as usual. I had a good friend, and a nephew both die and that destroyed me. My grandpa was having health problems, I broke with a few good friends (for the better!), and it all resulted in me not ever attending class second semester. So. I failed all those classes and having never failed anything in my life, that was pretty fucking terrible y'all. But it's okay, I'm back and I'm doing okay.
I live in a house with three other girls and I HATE one of them. I'll call her L. Oh my God. Shoot me. One of them is EXACTLY like my sister (A)and let me tell you, it's real weird living with her. She constantly yells at our other roommate K., which makes me feel bad for K. But it's a roof over my head so that's good.
I'm trying to drop out of my sorority for various reasons but the girl who's in charge of processing that basically told me "If you stay for another year, you can be Alum, and during this year you won't have to pay dues or go to any events or anything". Uhm. Okay? Sounds good??
I'm starting a fitness plan soon (I know, I know, when AREN'T I starting a fitness plan, right?) But I think this time it'll be for real (quit laughing) because my best friend and I are going to hike this incline that is basically 2,744 stairs straight up a mountain sooooo if I don't follow through on this plan, that's for real going to suck. Let's hope it sticks.
I'm heavier than I've ever been in my entire life so there's that.
I had this terrible break up awhile ago and it's still fucking me up, but I think I'm finally starting to heal from it.
I'm taking this dance class as one of my courses at college and I was pretty worried about it because I am in no way physically fit at all, but it's actually super fun, all the people are nice, and I nailed my choreography last class which is something I have tons of trouble with so yay me!
I've been super on top of my homework and I think this semester is going to be really good for me. I live about 5 minutes walking distance away from a counseling center so I'm thinking of going back to therapy. It's so close, I kind of don't have a reason not to. The only thing stopping me from doing it is this deal I've made with myself that if I go back to therapy I have to actually work through my issues instead of doing what I normally do and pretend like I'm fine. The truth is, I know exactly why I'm so fucked up. I just can't bear admitting it out loud. If I go back, I'm going to have to remember something I spent a long time and a huge amount of energy trying to forget. So...Idk but I'll make a decision soon.
I also tried to kill myself on April 4th, and soon after my mom got me a dog so that was unexpected. She doesn't live with me at my house though, she stays with my mom and I really miss her.
Anyway, I'm glossing over a lot of things, but I'm just real excited to be back. I hope everyone has been doing real well.
Love y'all
<3 Lee
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
You're adorable as hell but I'm glancing at your wrist
I've been gone awhile, but that's so me,
I don't know what to say, really.
It's my first year of college and I'm doing okay, but it's been hard. I haven't made many friends and although I was accepted into a sorority, it doesn't really feel like I'm apart of it, you know? Although today when I walked through the house doors to grab my Big presents, they all cheered and seemed happy that I was there. It was nice, coming in to that kind of response.
This week is just a week full of presents from my Big sister, who remains anonymous until our retreat on Friday, but I'm pretty sure I know who it is and I couldn't be happier. She's the only one I've really connected with, and I work with her too, so I'm thrilled. I think I just need to be more involved.
I'm going to the doctor soon to get back on my depression medication and see if I can get something for my anxiety.
I think last I wrote, I had lost my soulmate and was dating some other guy. In August, my soulmate came back and it was a blissful month together, but ever since then we've been fighting and breaking up. This time, it's serious and I know I need to make a change. So I'm doing it. I'm gonna get better. I have this anger inside of me that I can't seem to get rid of at all, so I'll be working on that. I need him back. I know we're meant to be and watching him with someone else will kill me, especially because now I know I won't ever feel the same way about anyone as I feel about him. I love him too much to let myself destroy this.
I miss my home. I miss my mom. I miss high school, and kissing him in front of my classes, and going out to lunch with my friends and just doing stupid kid stuff. The weight of my responsibilities is crushing me. Honestly, maybe it's the anxiety and the depression talking, but sometimes I think I'd really like to die. The thought of just pure nothingness fills me with so much joy. I believe in Heaven, but if nothing happens, it's still a win/win. Of course, I won't do this. I'll schedule therapy sessions and take my meds, and just generally be a good little girl for awhile.
Truth be told, I'm fat. That's the one illness I refuse to give up. I'm convinced that I can get down to my goal weight and then just leave all of this behind. Of course I know it never ever works like that, but I'm the kind of person who needs to keep making the same mistakes over and over until it finally occurs to me that I'm an idiot.
College is hard. I'm constantly on the verge of tears. I don't have the energy to do anything. Ever. I roll out of bed five minutes before I have to leave, and throw on sweatpants and a ponytail. Most days I can't bring myself to shower. I just don't have enough spoons lately*
I don't think I can do this. I'm too scared, I'm not good enough, it's too hard. But like my ex-boyfriend always says, that's quitter talk. So I'll tough it out. I'll try everything I can.
My few saving graces are that I got the best roommate ever, I have my best friend here with me, I have people to eat with every day, and I love my teachers. I may be struggling, but I have a support system.
I'm so contradictory. I don't know. I'll post again soon.
Love you all. Be well.
<3 Lee
*Spoons, for those of you who don't know, is a common metaphor for depression. The average person has an unlimited amount of spoons on any given day. But someone with depression, or really any mental illness only have about 20. Showering costs 5 spoons, remembering to eat costs 10 spoons, social interaction costs 3 spoons, putting on clothes takes 2 spoons, doing homework takes 7 spoons, getting out of bed takes 5 spoons, brushing your teeth takes 3 spoons (I'm just assigning random numbers to random things, and obviously some people have waaaay more spoons than others, I'm just giving you the general idea) and so on.
I don't know what to say, really.
It's my first year of college and I'm doing okay, but it's been hard. I haven't made many friends and although I was accepted into a sorority, it doesn't really feel like I'm apart of it, you know? Although today when I walked through the house doors to grab my Big presents, they all cheered and seemed happy that I was there. It was nice, coming in to that kind of response.
This week is just a week full of presents from my Big sister, who remains anonymous until our retreat on Friday, but I'm pretty sure I know who it is and I couldn't be happier. She's the only one I've really connected with, and I work with her too, so I'm thrilled. I think I just need to be more involved.
I'm going to the doctor soon to get back on my depression medication and see if I can get something for my anxiety.
I think last I wrote, I had lost my soulmate and was dating some other guy. In August, my soulmate came back and it was a blissful month together, but ever since then we've been fighting and breaking up. This time, it's serious and I know I need to make a change. So I'm doing it. I'm gonna get better. I have this anger inside of me that I can't seem to get rid of at all, so I'll be working on that. I need him back. I know we're meant to be and watching him with someone else will kill me, especially because now I know I won't ever feel the same way about anyone as I feel about him. I love him too much to let myself destroy this.
I miss my home. I miss my mom. I miss high school, and kissing him in front of my classes, and going out to lunch with my friends and just doing stupid kid stuff. The weight of my responsibilities is crushing me. Honestly, maybe it's the anxiety and the depression talking, but sometimes I think I'd really like to die. The thought of just pure nothingness fills me with so much joy. I believe in Heaven, but if nothing happens, it's still a win/win. Of course, I won't do this. I'll schedule therapy sessions and take my meds, and just generally be a good little girl for awhile.
Truth be told, I'm fat. That's the one illness I refuse to give up. I'm convinced that I can get down to my goal weight and then just leave all of this behind. Of course I know it never ever works like that, but I'm the kind of person who needs to keep making the same mistakes over and over until it finally occurs to me that I'm an idiot.
College is hard. I'm constantly on the verge of tears. I don't have the energy to do anything. Ever. I roll out of bed five minutes before I have to leave, and throw on sweatpants and a ponytail. Most days I can't bring myself to shower. I just don't have enough spoons lately*
I don't think I can do this. I'm too scared, I'm not good enough, it's too hard. But like my ex-boyfriend always says, that's quitter talk. So I'll tough it out. I'll try everything I can.
My few saving graces are that I got the best roommate ever, I have my best friend here with me, I have people to eat with every day, and I love my teachers. I may be struggling, but I have a support system.
I'm so contradictory. I don't know. I'll post again soon.
Love you all. Be well.
<3 Lee
*Spoons, for those of you who don't know, is a common metaphor for depression. The average person has an unlimited amount of spoons on any given day. But someone with depression, or really any mental illness only have about 20. Showering costs 5 spoons, remembering to eat costs 10 spoons, social interaction costs 3 spoons, putting on clothes takes 2 spoons, doing homework takes 7 spoons, getting out of bed takes 5 spoons, brushing your teeth takes 3 spoons (I'm just assigning random numbers to random things, and obviously some people have waaaay more spoons than others, I'm just giving you the general idea) and so on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)