Seeing her again…

Two things happened last week (including today) that I didn’t expect and wasn’t prepared to deal with. I saw one of my Ex-roommates and possibly ex best friends again. Not in a social setting but in a class we’ll be having together and at worship just a couple of minutes ago.
I thought I would be prepared for the worship service but I wasn’t. I was at the brink of tears more than once, knowing she was there but wouldn’t talk to me or acknowledge me. And she didn’t. I fled the building after the service. She, apparently, did too, for I saw her walking out a couple of minutes after me.
Seeing her in that class was even less pleasant. I was dumbfounded…. I was confused for the duration of the class and hope I didn’t mess things up terribly by being inattentive. I usually am not but knowing that she was sitting a couple seats down the row made me anxious. I couldn’t say anything right, couldn’t do anything right. I’m wondering what that will mean for the rest of the semester? I will have to sit through the class and though I know I can just not participate in the discussions I would find that pretty damn boring. Maybe. We’ll see. Maybe I’ll just let her talk and I’ll be quiet and take notes. Can’t be worse than that, right? But that’s what I thought before the semester started, too and now I’m in a class with her.

Apart from that. The eating? Nothing. Zilch. Today I didn’t eat anything and I’m not going to for sure. Yesterday I ate a “lean cuisine” meal with 170 calories and that was it. Too much, I know, since I didn’t do any sport and it also showed on the scale this morning. But right now I can’t eat, can’t even think about it. There’s too much shame and guilt and unworthiness. Why do I deserve to eat anything at all? I don’t think I deserve it… so why would I eat then? I know it will mess up my medication but right now I don’t care. The medication is supposed to make me feel better, not worse, but all it does is make me not care, especially not about my body. Never-ending story of my life, I guess.

But I’ll treat myself to a movie tonight and watch “Buck”… maybe… I mean I’ve been debating if I want to see it and it would keep me out of the house for a while but… I don’t know. I need to get off my lazy ass instead of working on stuff for school. 😉

 

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“Women Warriors” or “My new treatment team”

It’s like a snowball effect: Whenever something happens in life there’s a big chance that other bad things happen right alongside it. Just to make things interesting, I guess.
I’ve had trouble with my eating and my body image since I was a child but apparently Bipolar Disorder, being in the hospital, having my life blown up to pieces just made it worse and visible. And honest person that I am I couldn’t keep from telling the only people in my life who I could still trust and who would keep it confidential. My psychiatrist, my psychologist and the nutritionist that I had to see because my parents mentioned it to my psychiatrist when they were here.
Anyway. So after about two months of seeing all three of them separately but consistently they noticed I got worse and worse with my eating and over-exercising. Yesterday we had something like an intervention. Sort of. We all sat together in one room, three professionals and I… it wasn’t exactly intimidating since I knew all of them individually and had been in contact with them regularly before and because I like them all. Nevertheless it was weird. Interesting. I dubbed them my “Women Warriors” in my head when I was sitting there, since they are so committed to helping me get out of the Eating Disorder and also committed to helping me straighten out my life and finding medication that works for me.
I’m still exhausted and overwhelmed by it, knowing that they want to help me but not knowing why. Yes, because it’s their job but why care? It’s not like I’m important. My psych made some funny comments about me. She thinks I’m smart… yeah right. But I like her. She’s the funniest of the bunch though they all are funny in their own way and we did a lot of laughing and giggling in there. But in retrospect I’m scared and sad and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. I don’t want to disappoint them, maybe that’s it. I want to be a success and not let them down but even only thinking about it makes me want to recoil from them and hide in a dark corner. I don’t have the strength or the energy right now. I can’t fight this, on top of everything else, and be a success. Why do they have to put the strain on me as well, the push for success? I thought I had a break from that, now that I got away from my parents and only need to compete with myself and me. And there’s nothing in the world that I would do less than compete with me. I hate competition, I’m too much of a freedom lover to participate in that. Unless: I know that I’ll be the winner. THEN I like competition but only because I know I won’t be a failure. I can’t stand failing. I can’t stand being a disappointment. But with my Women Warriors it’s a different story now – I don’t want to disappoint them but I also don’t want to give up the choices I make when I eat. Or don’t eat.
CLUSTERFUCK!
And on top of that classes start in two days, I will probably have to see some of the old “friends” again and I am not allowed to go to the one group at the CHDC that I really wanted to go to. Just because one of my “friends” might be there. Why doesn’t she get kicked out? It’s an excellent question. But I won’t ask. I’ll take it, I’ll bow to it and let it go.
I hate my life at the moment, although I also like it. I just don’t know what to do about the deep dark holes in my life. And I always feel likes I’m dancing on a volcano. Yikes.

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Can’t go on (like this)

The words I can’t go on, I can’t do it anymore, are not in my vocabulary. Not in the active one I use every day. Of course I can do it, of course I can go on… it’s just a matter of starting it, right? I have no idea where to start and what to do. I have a week to polish up the 40-odd pages I came up with for my thesis. Not enough. Not enough considering that my brain doesn’t want to work anymore and will only give me brief moments of clarity during which I need to cram and write as much as possible. I did write the whole thesis in about 4 days. Amazing. Now I’m drained, tired, finished. Yet I need to push through and go on. On and on and on and on. I don’t know what the point is or why she’s making it so hard. It’s not going to get published, it’s not going to be something I will ever go back to and read again. If only I could say I won’t go on for a PhD. Would that make things easier? Would they let me off the hook easier.

I don’t know but I’ll need to go. Go and write. Go and finish it. Go and do. Nike. Just do it. Maybe that’s what I need to think about. There’s nothing else but to function… and there never was.

 

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Stress and more stress

Am I going back to the same place that I was at a couple of months ago? More stress than I can deal with? I feel like I’m reaching my breaking point but I’m too weak to even reach out for anything or anyone. I just want to finish it off, finish me off, be done with it. I don’t want to do this whole stuff anymore and one of the reasons for not eating is probably (surely?) that I just can’t take it anymore. So might as well just ignore all of it… only that’s not the way I was raised. I was raised in a way to say “push through and don’t complain”. So I’m not complaining, at least not to people (well, there are none anyways). I’m only complaining to myself, to this blog, complaining to my body and treating it badly. And I know I should go back to my thesis but I just can’t get myself to open the document and start typing. Although that is essentially all I have to do. So… go back and type. Go back and type. Go back and… type….

I wish there was someone to lean onto, someone to turn to and look at, someone who would smile at me and hold me and be there. But there is no one. There used to be for a brief while, for three days, and now that is what I miss, if that can even be described as missing someone. I miss the feeling of safety and not being alone. But that’s fine. It’s life. Life = lonely.
Tried to stab myself with a knife today. I managed to poke a small hole in my stomach but that was it. I didn’t even have the guts to do it right. Next time? Who knows…? I want to scream, I want to scream and be heard. Last time I did I got myself admitted to the hospital. That won’t happen again for sure… so I won’t scream. There’s no point. Useless.

Back to thesis. Back to thesis.

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DBT & stuff

I had to go to the first two sessions of the DBT counseling I’m doing. One was two hours of wasted time, the other one was one hour. Totally useless if you ask me as I’m an intelligent and self-reflective person. I know how to discern what I’m feeling and how to deal with these feelings – I don’t need to sit in a room full of weird people who ask stupid questions for two hours when I could just be given a book and read about it. AHHHH! That’s about all I wanted to scream as I was sitting in this room! I mean, seriously, how hard can it be to read a piece of paper and apply it to your life? I was SO bored but of course couldn’t let that show. Well… I hate to know that I have to sit through that for another five months but who knows, maybe I’ll be able to get through it without losing my sanity. I already thought about bringing a blank piece of paper to write on it in German so I can at least be occupied for two hours. Just like a good seminar. And we get homework, too, which I do by making up scenarios based on previous incidents… like I’d be sitting around in a circle talking about myself. For real?
The one hour individual session only resulted in me being given a “journal card” that I have to fill out every night with how the day way, how I felt, yada yada yada. Useless and booooring. But alright, I filled it out for the whole week tonight and can go into my appointment next week with confidence that I did my “homework”. It’s like the whole journaling thing that Brinkmann had. Only this time it’s worse. AHHHHH!!! And I just hate male therapists. As if guys can do anything right? No way, they are simply dumb apes who managed to learn how to talk and that’s all. I wouldn’t want to confide in any person with a y chromosome. Ever. Apes is all they are, dumb and shitty.

 

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2nd post in less than an hour –

does that mean I’m on the brink of doing something I shouldn’t be doing? All if know is that I’m getting restless and feeling utterly lonely. Left alone by my “friends”. Those people who said they were friends but when I needed them backed out. Ha! I’m glad I know who my friends are now but at the same time I am very sad because those people I loved so dearly are not my friends anymore. I wish I could be angry, too, but it doesn’t happen.
And then there’s this “I don’t care” feeling. I just don’t care. Yeah, they hurt me, yeah, I am hurting but – it doesn’t matter and I don’t care. It doesn’t affect me at all… yet on a deeper psychological level it probably does and I just don’t realize it. That’s my take on things. But again, if I were to talk about all of this with my shrink she would probably be very alert and want to send me to the loony bin again. And I’m NOT going back there again. Not so much because it was bad, it was somewhat ok, but because it costs quite a lot of money to be confined to limited space for a week. $10,000 that I don’t have, even if my insurance would pay for the rest of it! And while I’m talking about my insurance – I viewed all the claims filed and everything for the last couple of months… there was one that said “suicide ideation call”. Great. Officially a loony. lol. Can’t help but NOT take it seriously as I know I wouldn’t go that way again… meaning I wouldn’t ever be this dumb again to tell someone what I was planning. I saw where it got me and what it did to my social life. Never again!

Yet I wish I could be angry. I wish I could hurt someone. I wish I could make someone pay for it. But I know it’s just me and my stupid body has to pay for it!!!!!!

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Amazon search

Lol – so I just did an amazon search with the term “methods of suicide” to see if I would get any hits. Amazon spit out “Your search ‘methods of suicide’ did not match any products in: Tool & Home Improvement” – made me laugh! HOME IMPROVEMENT. I mean that’s what it comes down to, right? I’d be improving my home if I killed myself. Unfortunately I’m too responsible for that. Sort of. I have to housesit animals for a while and until I’m done with that I just can’t do it. Seriously, it’s one thing hurting people but it’s a whole other thing to just leave animals behind who can’t fend for themselves.
That’s also what I told my shrink today so she wouldn’t send me to the hospital again. I don’t want to go back there again but I know if I told her that I have not only thought about killing myself but also have the means to and have even written letter of goodbye to the people important to me… she’d probably have me admitted again. Yikes! I always thought shrinks were there to talk to but apparently there’s a line and I’m afraid to telll my shrink anything important again because the last time I did she had me admitted to the loony bin. Can’t pay for that again!!

Apart from that I’m recovering from the vacation with my parents, eating too little and drinking too much, overexercising and not doing the thesis writing I should be doing. Life as usual. Also haven’t heard from my other thesis yet… I’m not particularly afraid I didn’t pass. I don’t care is more like it. With all these meds and the general exhaustion I can only say that I seriously don’t care about anything right now. My life, my work, N-o-t-h-i-n-g.  Good or bad? I don’t know. I just wish I could put an end to this.

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