So, since I have no psycho-iatrist, I have no meds. Since I have no meds, I am one heartbeat away from being committed to the psycho ward/looney bin/crazy tank. My emotions are all over the range. Sad, content, committed, depressed, excited, hopeless, frantic, ect… I am fighting with D. day and night. Not just verbal fighting but throwing things, explosive outbursts, and an apt to curse him out. Parts of me just can’t control it. It builds and builds and builds. Tonight, I took my laptop to the living room to do my computer crap, blog, e-mails, etc… and I’m surprised I didn’t hurl my laptop at him.
Instead, I gathered sweet foods in the house, took the carton of ice cream in the bathroom, sat on the floor, ate, and then gave the food to the toilet bowl so it wouldn’t be hungry.
It’s getting too hard to handle. I don’t, don’t, don’t know if I can make it. Make it to anything or anywhere. My weight continues to slowly decrease. Painfully slow. I wish it would go faster. But never mind that. I had chest pains today. Scared me for the first time because I wasn’t working out when they occurred; I was just watching a movie. I find it ironic though that as intense as this relapse is appearing I actually applied for a summer job and have been called in for a mass interview next month. It’s at a water park and I would love the job. I spent one summer as a guest at this water park and it was better than going away on vacation. So how cool will it be to work at the water park! I don’t know if I’ll be in treatment or not, but I’m going to proceed as if I’m not.
I reapplied to my university. I had to withdraw this same time last year because of the eating disorder and I am determined to go back this August. I miss the university setting and I love to learn and read and really want to be a teacher. We have so much to offer our future students, it would be criminal not to finish school and at least try and be a teacher. If it’s too stressful, there are other jobs in the school system that would probably suit us just fine.
I came across this quote and found it thought provoking:
We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. ~ Tom Stoppard
I don’t know what to think of it, but I wanted to include it in my meaningless post. I guess what strikes me is about how we burn our bridges and have nothing to show for our progress but waste and want. It’s a rather cynical take on the human condition and trying to get better. Does recovery mean all or nothing? Maybe it should. Anorexia has to be all or nothing. You can’t have a little bit of an eating disorder and relinquish some of it, too.
I love quotes and songs and writings. One of my alters stores our words for us and for the past decade has kidnapped all the words that could adequately convey how we feel inside. Sure, we can say we’re sad, but the woman with the words could say it in a way that would take your breath away and MAKE you feel through her use of words exactly how we feel and what we are going through. I know she’s still around; what I can’t figure out is why she isn’t as vocal as she has been in times past.
Words from this alter would be just as helpful as meds would be. Words, whether in books or music, are very therapuetic and can save a soul. But I’m usually too zoned out to focus on the book, which is a fear I have of these postings: that they are random and unfocused and hard to follow.
No matter. Don’t sweat the small stuff. I can only hope and pray that we’ll gain better ground and be focused soon. We have to by August for school. It feels like this time it’s all or nothing.
That’s alot of pressure to put on ourselves. Gulp.
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