Thoughts.

I’m sad.

Someone messaged me a really gorgeous message that it’s been a while since they’ve heard from me and they’re a little worried and could I please respond. No pressure but yes pressure.

I’m sad. I’m sad I scared her. I don’t even know if she was scared. I remember TC telling me when I got her post that when she sent it she had no idea whether I’d actually get it or not. I felt the same way then.

I do feel something. Even though I can’t name it.

I hate that I scared her. I don’t know how scared she was or wasn’t. And it’s not like I can even go and tell her she had no reason to worry. It’s not like what I’ve been doing has no potential of killing me. This person doesn’t really know what’s been going on. I’d never tell her. It’s. Yeah whatever.

I can’t really share my world with people. I can on here because it’s public so it’s not like I’m reaching out to a specific person. I can’t reach out in that way. I wouldn’t get what I needed. And even if I did I couldn’t risk not getting it. And I know I don’t deserve others to be there. I know I can’t reach out to others for I’m not worthy of their time. Which is also why all the people who respond here mean so much to me. Especially those who don’t know me at all. You know who you are. I haven’t read your blog. I don’t know your life. I haven’t been here for you. Yet you’re here for me. What’s ironic is how many people I have always responded to and been there for who haven’t been here for me. Most of them I don’t care. I know I don’t deserve it.

I wish she hadn’t been scared. I replied. And. I’m sad I scared her.

Somehow I’m still here. I’m not sure how come I still am. There were so many times during the past few months that I knew I wouldn’t be. Yet I’m here.

I bought myself something expensive yesterday. I’ve been wanting it for months but I haven’t bought it because I may not live, and if I’m not alive than it’s pointless buying it. As in I don’t want the money to be wasted. Buying it, whether I do or don’t keep it (I wonder if it may go down in price over lockdown) is an affirmation of life. Is a statement that I believe I’m going to be here to use and make use of it.

I emailed someone some of this. I feel bad. I know she’ll respond. I’m obligating her to respond. And for all I know this is all too much for her. She just replied and she completely missed the point. I succeeded in scaring her but whatever. Her emails mean way too much to me. I’m on edge until she responds. And then I often have to explain what I meant.

I need to sleep.

Journaling 101 22nd Sept 20

My head’s hurting and I want to try and sleep but I need to get some stuff down. Really 2 entirely different points. I feel guilty writing on here when others may read and I’ve read about 3 posts from others in the past 3 weeks. (I usually read every post of everyone who follows me – except religious or triggering).


Today I experienced again that when I don’t feel safe I can’t drink. In this instance it was that I was thirsty and wanted a drink but was on the phone and it wasn’t safe enough to let go enough to drink. It’s not just drinking. It’s any bodily need that requires letting go. I thought some things were due to other stuff but I’m actually wondering if it’s the same point. Just something I want written down. Not looking for others to relate as I doubt anyone will.


I was rereading E’s emails. All E’s emails, or most, are as she once wrote, love letters. They’re all filled with belief in me and care. She seems to think I’m beginning to trust her words. So I was reading her emails and came across a couple emails from AH – my ex therapist. He’s still my ex therapist for he’s the only person I’ve ever done any work with (SG too. But SG I don’t consider my therapist and never have). It made me really sad to read those emails. Because, they were some of the last emails he sent to me before we crashed and burned. I always blamed him for the mess up. For therapy ending. Not that I thought I didn’t have a part to play. Far from it. My feelings on the matter was that as a therapist it was his job to contain it, and that he was reacting to me and not handling me so ultimately therapy messing up was his fault because ultimately it was his job. Seeing these emails a couple years later, I’m no longer so sure about that. I can see how he was trying to contain it. I haven’t reread through all our conversations. I can see what I knew was his rejecting me at the time, and now looking at the words objectively I can see that he said he doesn’t know I’d speaking will be safe for me. He was trying to hold it together. I’m not going to reread it now. It just made me so so sad. I remember all the emails. I don’t think all the words he said were correct. He said he was happy to keep it to email/whatsapp for that point in time. He told me he was there if I ever wanted to be in touch. I wrecked it. I shut the door. I took every word as him telling me I was too much. I’m not actually blaming myself at all. I know that I did the best I could. It took me a year to get over the wreckage of therapy. And until today I blamed him – from an objective point. Now, I saw his emails. And I don’t blame him. I wonder what it would be like to reread everything. I always said he never apologised. But in those 3 emails I saw he apologised at least twice…. I don’t know that he was wrong. For being unable to handle my reactions. Because reading his words I could see how he was trying to contain it. How he was trying to give me the safety. I know he could have Don’s things differently. I don’t know if it would have helped. I know from other therapists I’ve spoken to. I know he went above and beyond and some of the things he did most therapists wouldn’t have done. It just made me sad. So so sad. Seeing those emails. Seeing that, actually he wasn’t the reason therapy ended. I was. He was there for me. He said he was enough times. I just couldn’t hear it. That doesn’t make anything else I was upset about at the time less true. For example I said he didn’t ever understand what I said. 2 points. One, it could be he didn’t more Two, he did and I just didn’t hear it. Couldn’t. In theory when you have 2 people who are both putting their 100% in, and they’ve built a relationship – done the impossible, you’d think they could do anything. You’d think they could contain it. But I couldn’t. And he couldn’t. And seeing those emails I could see how he tried his best to. And that just makes me so sad.

Is honesty a negative thing?

On being genuine. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.

I can’t live with or handle anything at all incongruent. Or, I find it hard to reconcile. I had a workmate who became a close friend. Then we lost touch because she was so busy. She’d call me if she needed anything. I eventually learned that I can’t count on her as a friend. Then I learned and saw that she feels really close to me still. I find it really hard to understand that.

I say what I think. When I try to sugarcoat it I trap myself. I just say what I think. And I don’t think it’s problematic because I’m just sharing my truth. I’m sharing the reality. Not just as I see it but as it is. So if I’m talking to my family I’ll tell them the what and why – unless I think it’s detrimental, then I won’t.

I’m just honest. That doesn’t mean I never lie to protect myself. And when I have lied or do anything that goes against any of my values it’s really jarring for me. I find it really hard to reconcile it. Lotsa black and white thinking here too. All or nothing. If it’s one it’s not the other.

I’m writing this, thinking about it, because of something I can’t write about as I’ll risk hurting someone I care about. I just see how I’ve gone to an extreme. How I can’t handle what to me is incongruent. How I was honest and I don’t know whether genuinity is a good thing.

I don’t know whether being me is a good thing. I feel like how I do with being so straight is hurt myself and others. I can’t live untrue to my values and beliefs. I’m going to destroy some people by bring true to myself. I mean that in a very real way. Obviously it’s going to be too bad. But if I could live without the genuineness there wouldn’t be all that collateral damage. The knowing that one day I’m going to be destroying some people, that now I’m living a lie for my own gain and in order not to hurt them. Someonce once told me it’s not. That was before I knew the choices I have made, life I am living, choices I will make. It is a lie. For I’m letting them believe and know things that aren’t true because I can’t yet deal with the fallout. I’m not yet ready to destroy them.

I don’t know whether the honesty is a good thing. I don’t know whether being genuine is a good thing. I don’t know whether the hurting others is worth it. Hurting others now because I can’t live with incongruence. I can’t lie and pretend (I was honest now because if I don’t share my truth it’s constantly hurting me, and whatever the fallout now, it’ll be less painful). I don’t know if it’s a good thing. It’s something I love about myself. Yet it doesn’t seem worth it.

Is this what staying with reality looks like?

A repost of my last post about sitting with the pain. That I woke myself up now coz can't stay with it, can't let myself think about it, but I haven't done anything and maybe that's what it means.

This is what I wrote on instagram now. The last line is what I’m thinking about here. (It will be easier to understand if you’ve read what I wrote here.) I said that the truth is I still don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve woken myself up, but I haven’t done anything. What I missed out is that maybe this is what being with it looks like. Shaking in bed. Putting on music. Not letting myself think at all because I can’t think about it. Maybe this is what staying with reality is about. I wonder. I wonder if that’s what the real world looks like. The not knowing. The just letting the not knowing be. And nor knowing a lil bit more.

Sitting with reality

Something just happened. It huts too close to home for me to write about it yet. And, I don’t know how to handle it or what to do with myself. I don’t feel anything for it would hurt too much so it doesn’t yet hurt at all.

Just sitting with it
Just being with it
The I don’t know what to do with myself
I DON’T know what to do with myself .
Too much
Too big
I don’t know what to do.
Just be with it
Just let it be
The too much
The emptiness
The lack
The shaking
The nothingness
I don’t know what to do with myself.
I don’t need to know.
I don’t need to act on it.
I don’t need to make it okay
For it just isn’t okay.
I don’t need to do anything.
There isn’t anything to do
Just be
Just let it be
I don’t know what to do with myself.
Maybe I don’t need to know
Maybe, just maybe,
I don’t need to do anything
Maybe I can lie here
And do nothing, knowing that
I don’t know what to do with myself
And I don’t need to know. Maybe.

I find it a little funny how sometimes I talk such sense. Funny because I’m living it. I don’t know what to do with myself. And I’m just stating for now with the not knowing. I find it kinda funny how in some ways I talk and live such sense, when I’m also destroying myself.

I don’t know what to do with myself. And for the past few hours I’ve just stayed with it. With the not knowing. Without acting on it. Just doing nothing. And being unsure what on earth to do. And doing nothing. Just being with it.

Random.

Today was a calmer day. Used less cocodamol. Swept a bit the mess I made last night with what I did. Ate too much (for what I feel I should eat. Honestly I’m also grateful I ate more than I wanted to). Not sure how come I’ve used less but I did. Tried to get through to my GP but didn’t manage to – he wasn’t in. I told the secretary I think it’s negligent of him. She didn’t disagree with me (she was drained by my persistence, I think I drove her a bit mad, and there wasn’t anything she could even do but I’m glad she understood me at the end and agreed with me). Even though it’s nearly 3am and I should be sleeping. I’m grateful I didn’t freak out at all today. I’m grateful for all of you who’ve been here – I didn’t expect it and really appreciate it. I’m grateful for E’s email today checking up on me. I hadn’t even told her about last night- she can’t handle me telling her what I’m doing to myself and knowing there is nothing she can do. Grateful for TCs minute phone call to say hi. Tried to find people in ACA who have real recovery, not just newcomers. Going to look on instagram tomorrow. Hoping it’s not as hot. Heat exacerbates dizziness. As does not enough food. I rather not be dizzy. Looking forward to course starting Thursday. Theoretically it’s tomorrow.

Today had responsibility given to me, that I felt I had to take, that wasn’t mine. Is in no way mine. Took 3 hours of my time. It’s a perfect example to bring to someone and ask them what exactly my responsibility is. There are 2 people I would ask to discuss it with. Really I’d ask them if they knew who I could and hope they’d say themselves. But both of them are people I need advice from about my life. Who after I speak to my GP – is that ever going to happen – I want to run what he says by them and ask them for their advice. So I don’t want to use them now as I won’t be able to then. Actually that is even factual not just about me thinking I’m using them.

Love, light and glitter

How do you perceive the world?

I just wrote this. Not sure what I’m trying to say with it ..

Sometimes I feel like everyone sees things so differently to me.

I just saw a post on Instagram about fat phobia and my only thought was, but why would someone think or feel that way? Like obviously everyone likes everyone and doesn’t judge and is accepting of everyone. 

Sometimes I think I live in a world of rainbows and unicorns. I see the world that way. And no one else seems to. And it’s weird in a way. And jarring.

And of course I see the world…. I’m destroying myself at the moment (pretty literally). My siblings make sure to educate me constantly. My friends have all been through, are going through, so much.

Yet I still think of the world and people as all good and awesome and everyone else seems to think differently. It’s just, I don’t even have the words to put it down what it feels like. Like I perceive something and it seems like almost everyone perceives it differently. And no, I don’t want to change.

Do I password protect my last posts?

I’m thinking about this. About password protecting my last posts. Because they’re on the darker side and that’s not what my blog is meant to be about. I don’t care for my sake if they’re up. I posted them, and it helped me to write, and you people here have been invaluable. Thank you for being here, and for believing in me. Thank you for your messages C and J. I’m just not sure if I should keep the posts up. If it’s helpful to anyone or not at all. I’d love thoughts…

This week has been a good one. It’s been chaotic and good. And busy. Still messing up and living with destruction, but it’s not the only thing at all. And I’m proud of how I handled my sister – I may still write about it if it’ll help me to. I overreacted in my mind, but in reality I really handled it well. And been trying to get back to journaling which really helps me. A friend bought me a diamond art painting which I did, so ordered another, and have the awesomest I believe in you box to keep the diamonds in (I hope you’re reading this 💕).

Happy weekend….

Been making some pictures for instagram. Haven’t posted most, but here are a couple.

Love, light and glitter

You are one choice away from the life of your dreams.
You are perfect just the way you are.
Your weight does not define you. Your body size does not define you. You are beautiful just because you exist. You are perfect just the way you are.
Will you tell someone they look good because of their weight or because of their smile? Will you tell them they have a nice dress/bag or that they look so skinny?
When I began losing weight I received a lot of backhanded compliments. Wow, you look so good, you lost so much weight. Are you telling me that I didn’t look good until now?
Just because I chose something once (or constantly), it doesn’t mean I have to make the same choice again.
Your feelings do not define you.
Your body size does not define you.

Today’s thoughts/update

This is more of an update for myself.

I want to figure out a way forward. I don’t know what that looks like or would look like.

I am still using. Living with ED. I don’t count SH for it’s not constant but random so in my mind I’m not. Also because if it doesn’t blister I didn’t do anything. But they aren’t taking over my world anymore. Last night felt like hell on earth. But today was really okay, which I’m grateful for. Also grateful that wasn’t sick today even though I definitely used way way too much. I slept. And today is a new day.

Whenever I half wake up in the night I jerk myself awake to use. It’s actually not really a choice.

I asked S if she could help. She gave me the name of someone who does energy work as she can’t at the moment. This person just sent me a form you’d have to fill in first, and I’m not happy to fill it in. So I’ll think about it.

I spoke to my GP today. He called me a couple weeks ago. I’d spoken to this therapist I saw from the NHS. Backtracking is that 1.5 years ago I asked for a referral for DBT. Actually this goes back 2.5 years ago come to think of it. So you have to commission it because it’s not offered in my borough. And there’s no private services. The commissioning team sent the referral to another psychology service that offer 12 sessions CBT and asked them to see if they could do that instead. So this is the NHS therapist I spoke to. The first 3 times i spoke to her were an assessment. I freaked out on her twice. Then was session 6 which she wanted to do a risk assessment. Pushed it off. Session 7. And I stupidly answered her honestly. Either way, she is the person who is best to request it. Who can say their service can’t help (either way ‘they’re not a crisis service and don’t deal with any form of risk’). I asked my GP to speak to her and ask her to request it. He said he’ll try. Whatever that means. He told me a couple weeks ago that he wanted to put a referral through to the other service. Which honestly is a waste of time. I didn’t mention it to him now or ask him about it because I don’t know that I want him to. It’s just a rigmarole that has landed me both times I did it nowhere.

I asked my GP what he thought about going privately for therapy. He didn’t think there was a point. I don’t know if I agree. I half do. There’s also the point that I can’t be honest with most people. If I’d tell anyone what I’m using (cocodamol) every day they’d either call an ambulance which is just a waste of time, or they wouldn’t believe me, also a waste of time. And a large majority of private practitioners aren’t ready to deal with any risk factors. I contacted 4 private therapists. 2 aren’t seeing anyone new. Another I spoke to yesterday and she said she doesn’t work with anyone where she’ll have to put in that kind of work to get the client on board. The 4th I saw briefly in the past. It didn’t happen due to a cultural misunderstanding. She is a great therapist who would be able to do it. If she gets back to me, and if it could work out. I somehow doubt it though. I intuitively know that it’s not a good idea, but I contacted her anyways to do my part. This was before I spoke to my GP. (I don’t consider his thoughts to be the bible. Just a thought). I’m not going to look further though.

What do I want? I don’t know what I want. I know that if I try reach out for help I’m also reacting in the opposite way. Yesterday I really reached out and last night the force of destruction was strong enough that it was scaring me.

Really I want to speak to S. I want her to do some clearing for me. Make the world safer. She can’t at the moment. I have to think about whether I want to speak to the person whose number she gave to me. This person does kinesiology which I like. (It’d be remote). Just, you’d have to fill in a form that I’m not comfortable to. And I don’t really have the money. And it’s not S. I texted R’R that I’m thinking about finding that way forwards (I’d let him know I was messing up. That’s one thing different in a sense now. I’ve really reached out to people. Which isn’t something I do easily. And I’m terrified of crossing boundaries). He replied that I should let him know if he can help in any way. I can’t think how he can at the moment. I may tell him by believing I’ll get there. Wherever there may look like.

This is long. And says nothing at all. For I still don’t know what moving forwards looks like. I don’t know how to. I don’t know what I need or want. I wish I could tell everyone to just leave me messages every so often, no such thing as too often, telling me they believe in me, they care, are there, I’ll get there and I’ll do it. Although I’m trying to believe it, it really helps me. Any message of hope/encouragement/belief does. (That’s why I’ve been emailing someone every so often. I know how much such things help me, so if I can give it, I will).

Every moment is a new moment. I’m grateful for how much calmer today was. Grateful to be okay today. Grateful that I tidied my room a bit – well, there’s now a path on the floor and you can see some of the carpet. I’m proud of how much I tidied! Even if to an outsider it’s a wreck still. Been posting pictures too (thanks to K actually). I really like photography. I need to find more movies I like for free. I half wonder if i should just pay for a subscription somewhere where I can watch anything I like. At the moment movies are the best thing possible for me in the evening (when I don’t spend nearly an hour on my phone writing things like this). I don’t really want to spend the money that’s not spare, bit maybe I will.

I can’t run anymore. But I should try and exercise. And I applied to an MBSR mindfulness course. I think if they ever do one face to face I rather that. Will see what happens.

Anyways, this is long enough.

Who serves whom?

Just a thought.

If I use (applies to self harm, ED, anything), who is serving who?

Is using serving me, or am I serving using?

Really, in my head it goes

Do I serve (at the alter of) using, or is using serving me?

Who serves whom? Does the Power of Using serve me, or am I serving the Power of Using?

I find that thought quite sobering. I mean figuratively, but literally, too 🙂

Love, light, and glitter