So confused

So, lately has been a hodge-podge of good mixed with terrible. There have been good days, happy days, almost peaceful days and some horribly low ones too where I forget everything-even things I did or read just moments earlier. So often I can't remember what people tell me or what I read even as we're still sitting there talking or I catch myself rereading the same thing over and over unable to retain any of it. Lately I haven't even been able to keep my work straight making mistakes that I can't even fathom myself making, forgetting routine parts of my studies (and even writing the word 'stupids' instead of studies right there), and messing up study stuff irreparably... I feel so guilty for messing up the work I do. If you know what I do, you might understand. If you don't know what I do, it's probably for the best.

Yesterday morning I marveled at the stars in the sky when I left for work at 4:15. This morning the stars were even more beautiful and the cicadas sounded so beautiful-in their odd screaming sort of way. Where is this going? I mean, finding beauty in simple things is a good thing. When you're depressed you can't find joy in anything... The problem is I sit there debating for the whole drive to work and then the subsequent 9 hours while there (maybe even later) about whether being here to see the stars and sunrises and hear the cicadas and everything else is worth the pain of this world. So often my answer is no. Work is so frustrating, and it's been even worse lately since I've been screwing up so badly. I feel like I'll never get anything right there. The more time I'm there the more I screw up. Except, these screw-ups can cost millions if not billions of dollars for our clients. It's too much stress. i can't deal with it day in and day out... The worst part is having to appear completely normal and like a girl who has it together when I can't keep myself from crying, even at work, when no one is looking. I feel like my existence is beyond repair, beyond help and beyond hope. I'm so tired of pretending, but if I don't, I'll lose my job, so I keep up this facade and come home feeling defeated every day. The more I'm stressed at work, the less or more... I eat. I'm tired of being sick, I'm tired of work, and I'm just tired of tomorrow always coming.

How can I feel like this and still find the beauty in the stars and sunrises? Be excited about the coming autumn? How can I want to die-to not have to face tomorrow, yet be excited about the sights and sounds and the happy memories they bring back?

Voices Amongst Other Things

When I allude to hearing voices, I don't mean in a schizophrenic way, I mean the voice of my eating disorder. Though, my T tells me it's really no different. It's the same abusive, vulgar, and derogatory language often seen in psychiatric illnesses... Great, even he seems to be hinting at my craziness...

Speaking of my T. I have a 2 hour torture session with my T, psyciatrist, gen. practitioner, and dietician tomorrow... We need to be on the "same page." I'm scared about it. I'm worried there will be some ultimatum laid out-gain x lbs by y date or in patient.

Beyond that... My baby Samuel is so sick... He has essentially no motor control of his back legs and he doesn't seem to be able to swallow normally and therefore isn't drinking or really swallowing saliva well... I had full blood work done and his chem and metabolic panels are normal and his CBC just shows very slight anemia... So, no answers there... Seems almost like a stroke or that his brain is still bleeding... I guess all I can do is make sure he isn't in pain and when/if he is make the choice to put him down. I was inconsolably in tears last Thursday night when he seemed to be convulsing. Losing him will be a huge blow for me. He's really all I have. He's my little cuddle buddy... and, with that, we both need some cuddles before bed.

Courage-Superchick

No real explanation for this song. It's open, honest, and tells the story. I'm not through the night, I'm not sure I ever will be. This journey is a battle, a fight every day to find the light and to keep my eyes on it. The secrets and the shame of an eating disorder are what foster its strength. Isolation from the rest of the world causes someone to turn inwards. The only thing they can see inside is their disorder and it's the most comforting thing they think they have.

Superchick-Courage
I told another lie today
And I got through this day
No one saw through my games
I know the right words to say
Like "I don't feel well," "I ate before I came"
Then someone tells me how good I look
And for a moment, for a moment I am happy
But when I'm alone, no one hears me cry

I need you to know
I'm not through the night
Some days I'm still fighting to walk towards the light
I need you to know
That we'll be OK
Together we can make it through another day

I don't know the first time I felt unbeautiful
The day I chose not to eat
What I do know is how I've changed my life forever
I know I should know better
There are days when I'm OK
And for a moment, for a moment I find hope
But there are days when I'm not OK
And I need your help
So I'm letting go

I need you to know
I'm not through the night
Some days I'm still fighting to walk towards the light
I need you to know
That we'll be OK
Together we can make it through another day

You should know you're not on your own
These secrets are walls that keep us alone
I don't know when but I know now
Together we'll make it through somehow
(together we'll make it through somehow)

I need you to know
I'm not through the night
Some days I'm still fighting to walk towards the light
I need you to know
That we'll be OK
Together we can make it through another day

Angry

Angry
Rage
Sad
Ashamed
Afraid
Nervous
Anxious
Hate
Disgusted
Embarrassed
Hate

amongst other things express how I've been feeling, especially since Sunday... No details needed, if you don't know, you probably shouldn't. I am so beyond angry, I'm hurt and I feel betrayed. I feel like I was thrown under the bus out of some sick case of revenge. Now, as a result of pure and utter bull, I will be stuck going to therapy twice a week for an undetermined length of time. I'm not sure I have ever been more upset in my entire life. The last time I was committed to therapy and forced to take medications against my will, it was a result of a very serious choice I made in my life-The last time I attempted to kill myself. Now I'm committed to therapy and medications on some overblown allegations. I've gotten myself so upset I was throwing up last night in between sobs until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor around 4:30... I'm so done with this.

Like the Rain

Clint Black-Like The Rain

I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through
On the darkest day there's always light and now I see it too
But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
I hear it falling in the night and filling up my mind
All the heaven's rivers come to light I see it all unwind
I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane
When I hear it I just can't believe I never liked the rain

Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you I'm falling for you now
Just like the rain

When the cloud is rolling over thunder striking me
It's as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldn't see
That it's always good and when the flood is gone we still remain
Guess I've known all along I just belong here with you falling

Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now
Just like the rain I have fallen for you
I'm falling for you now just like the rain

And when the night falls on our better days
And we're looking to the sky
For the winds to take us high above the plains
I know that we'll find better ways to look into the eye of the storms that will be calling
Forever we'll be falling like the rain...

PostSecret on Mental Illness

This postcard showed up on PostSecret.com on Saturday night... Is this where I went so wrong? That people have been forced to have a relationship with my illness instead of me? Am I my illness? Are we synonymous? I am depression, anxiety, self injury and the insidious eating disorder. It's not surprising that any attempt to have a relationship with me would only result in having to deal with all of my 'others' too. Who wants that? How can someone be expected to break through the disease to find me? Am I even in there? I find my eating disorder personified. Though I don't call it Ed, Eddy, Edith, Ana, or Mia, it is still mine and mine alone. No one else has an ed like mine. My eating disorder talks to me all the time-in my conscious thoughts and my every sleeping moment. On bad days my eating disorder talks through me and it's very words come out of my mouth-aloud... On those days words come out of my own mouth from ME answering my eating disorder... That is the definition of crazy-talking to your 'other self.' I can see how a relationship with me is nothing more than a relationship with my eating disorder. A relationship with my eating disorder leads to a relationship with the anxiety and severe depression that go with. Where am I in all of this? I'm the crazy one talking to my disorder... go figure. Truly, it's no wonder no one wants to be with me, women are difficult enough without getting a damaged and completely psychotic one. However, what another person sees isn't even the half of the reality of me. I still have some ability to hide the worst of it.


On another note, I'm at a friend's house tonight. We went out to dinner, I got boneless wings (with celery) and convinced his daughter that I like celery so much that I'm eating it even though I'm not hungry. She asked why I wasn't eating the chicken... I know the truth and you probably do too... That's my eating disorder screaming inside my head. It was a restaurant where nearly everything is deep fried, covered with cheese, or drenched in butter... Makes me want to throw up and not from purging... "I told another lie today and I got through this day no one saw through my games. I know the right words to say like 'I don't feel well' and 'I ate before I came.' Then someone tells me how good I look and for a moment, for a moment I feel happy. But when I'm alone no one hears me cry..." I lied to a kid... I ate celery for dinner... After getting a turkey sandwich for lunch and eating half a bite-I didn't like it... I had diet Mt. Dew for breakfast and lunch. Pathetic waste of space. I don't know which voice is stronger, the one screaming at me for being a pathetic waste of space and human emotion or the one disgusted with me for even putting that sandwich to my mouth and swallowing that celery-also calling me a pathetic waste of space... I feel it's the later. My eating disorder hates me more than I do. However, when I don't eat, I have a best friend. I feel strong and beautiful and my disorder agrees. How sick and twisted is that? Better yet, my ed and I will die together-best friends together for life and never apart even in death. how romantic.

So, as much as I hate this postcard, it's because it hits me hard... A relationship with me is nothing more than a relationship with my mental illness... I'm sorry I'm sick. I'm sorry you have to put up with me, it's not fair to you. I'm sorry...

I quit on today

Plain and simple, I quit... I went to work early and stayed late and dealt with too much shit in between. The new scheduling idea is stupid, we work more hours to do the same amount of work... This morning we were taking body weights on rats (they were having food consumption data, mass measurements and clinical signs done in the afternoon). Well, based on weight loss or obviously huge masses 10 needed to be euthanized. A coworker e-mailed the study director for permission. Because I didn't want it getting too late, I e-mailed the study director and asked for the verdict on the rats-he replied "suzy, please take the following rats to necropsy" and gave me the list of 10 animals. Well, I had to finish taking the data on them and then enter their 'death information' (why they were dying and who said it was ok), i had one animal left when the other tech came in and says "those rats are going to necropsy in the morning" um... they can't, i already entered their info! So, she goes and tells necropsy (apparently she'd already told them they were going tomorrow) and when I bring the rats in the lady at necropsy completely freaked out and wanted me to spell my name for her. I told her what happened (that no one told me they were going tomorrow and I wanted to get them to necropsy as early as possible as it's not nice to bring them at the end of the day causing the necropsy techs to stay late) and she just says "that's NOT what Becca said." So, this all went down at 2, they are supposed to work until 4. At 4, one tech was still in necropsy and was starting to clean up... seriously? Anyways, I e-mailed the communication between the study director and myself to my supervisor so she knew what was up when she got the call... I'm so sick of being yelled at for no reason, I was doing my job-why doesn't she do hers??? Everyone has been running behind lately and it's making things hard for all of us. I did several doses by myself today because the other doser didn't get there in time... I worked through lunch and straight though until well after my scheduled hours. Why is it that you bust your ass all day and all anyone can say to you is something to the effect of 'why did you f' this up?' I'm sick of it. I hate work and I hate covance. I can't handle the drama.

Being allowed or even encouraged to skip lunch due to scheduling is really dangerous for me. It's way too easy for me to slip back to restricting-especially when I'm so stressed and upset. Better yet, I come home and eat 14 pancakes (and not small ones) just for the sake of being able to purge. I hate eating, I especially hate binge eating, but, I just want to purge and it's so much better if I ate. All i want to do is purge, I've even purged at work. I know, pathetic. Why can't i just make people happy? I feel completely useless. No one appreciates me, i don't see the point in getting up much less going to work. It's pointless. I hate myself and the more i purge the more pathetic i feel, but if I don't, i can't handle it... The emotional release, the tears, the feeling of accomplishment... I'll never be good enough but maybe i can at least be pretty. If I lose weight and like myself other people will too. I just wish I was doing better at losing-I feel like I'm just getting fatter and uglier.

I haven't slept in at least 3 nights, I'm exhausted and this whole work situation is just so overwhelming. Work is this stress in my life that I can't get away from and I can't make any better.

Why the heck to people have to yell at me for nothing? ugh. I need to quit on today, if I think about it any more I'm just going to end up purging more or worse. maybe quitting is self-preservation.

I hate my life.

Preoccupation with Death

Warning bells should be going off in my head-I know this... I am completely fixated on death, dying, being dead, killing myself, being gone, being invisible, taking a break from feeling so overwhelmed... The list seems endless. I've been preoccupied with how fast the world is passing me by-leaving me somewhere lost in it's frothy wake. At the same time, I fear death. I'm completely terrified of leaving this world never knowing happiness. Death=Nothingness... I want happiness... But do I want an ending to this more than I desire to be happy? I mean, if I feel happiness will the next crash just take me that much further down?

Why do I cry; at the thought of winter being gone? At the thought that March has passed me by? At the fact Sam is getting older? At the sad look on my teddy bear's face-like he knows everything that is wrong in my world? Lame-I know... That's the story of my life-Lame-Completely and utterly a pathetic waste of space.

Let's see. I go to college and only graduate to appease people because i couldn't have cared less... So, I get this degree that is supposed to open all these doors and I work some stupid, mindless job with no hope of going anywhere except into another room of rats. Why did I go to college? I could have done this job as a high school drop-out. Ok, maybe they wouldn't have hired me, but that's the intelligence level required. I can't imagine a less mentally stimulating job... For the love of God, if a rat rips it's toe-nail off, I can't call the red stuff coming out 'blood' because I don't KNOW it's blood, it's just some random red-discharge coming from it's toe... are you effing kidding me??? So college was a waste of time, energy, and life. I am by far the least successful in my family. I can't get a good job, I can't go to graduate school, I can't do anything right. I'm stupid, unsuccessful, ugly, fat and completely useless. Yes, I hate myself and where I am and where I'm supposedly going. I take up space in this world-valuable space that could belong to someone worthy of being here, who wants to be here, who desires life and all it's false promises. Me? I've had enough.

Am I in a bad place? one could say 'hell yeah' or I could just say it's where I spend most of my days... Ever wonder why I so desperately sought an out from this place? My only question from all that seeking is why didn't I get out? Why am I here? No one can give me a good answer. I said earlier I want happiness... I really just want it to be over. I know I want to be happy, but, it's not possible. That's like wishing for fairies. It's stupid and is nothing but false dreams...

More songs

Dashboard Confessional-The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most
This is really a pretty simplistic song. Accompanied by guitar it is quieter and almost reflective. It talks about the happy exterior and how inside you're just dying, but nobody knows... Then, eventually you just can't anymore and the fear of having the truth exposed... It's a painful song, no doubt. Is anything on this list happy???

Garbage-Bleed Like Me
This is a very graphic song about both anorexia and self-injury. It puts words in my mouth after I put them there already. It says things I've said or tried to say before. "She starves herself to rid herself of sin" "the kick is so divine when she sees bones beneath her skin" "________ takes Dad's scissors to her skin and when she does relief comes setting in." These are direct and really unnerving phrases. The song also talks about alcoholism which is somewhere I don't really find myself much anymore, though, at times I've wondered... And it discusses someone questioning their sexuality which is not an issue for me.

Superchic-Hero
Superchic is a Christian group that leaves God out of most of their music, I absolutely love them and the emotional messages they give. This stanza says it all to me and is the reason this is on the list. I don't think I even need to explain:

"No one talks to her, she feels so alone
She's in too much pain to survive on her own
The hurt she can't handle overflows to a knife
She writes on her arm and wants to give up her life
Each day she goes on is a day that she's brave
Fighting the lie that giving up is the way
Each moment of courage her own life she saves
When she throws the pills out a hero is made
Heroes are made when you make a choice"

Death Cab For Cutie-Bixby Canyon Bridge
I've heard this song interpreted many ways, but I can never get this image of a person going to the place his best friend died after jumping from the bridge. He waits, hoping or praying that the soul of his friend will speak to him, but it never happens. Listen to it, hear it as you may, but know this song strikes me as a raw and honest song about the suicide of a friend.

Breaking Benjamin-Here We Are
This is a song about suicide, I don't think I should go further in or someone will get the wrong idea...

Tori Amos-Me and a Gun
If you have never heard this song... Hold your teddy tight and listen to the excruciating emotions Tori poured into this song. She talks about the fear of returning home-that her rapist will find her and be there. She also talks about singing while being assaulted-he told her to... and the things that go through your head. From experience, these "things" are a mechanism to block the truth from your memory. I often though of grocery shopping, my gymnastics routines, or even jumping in puddles-spring-flowers. She asks if her choice in clothes gave them the right to her and if it means other men can do the same. How she only survived because the man needed more drugs... Her voice is haunting, the words scar my soul, and the message resonates so loudly in my head I can't turn her off.

What Possesses a Man?

I feel an obligation to discuss sexual assault on some level. I don't know where this is going yet, but I sit here a need in my heart to not always be silent about this.

How the version of rape differs between men and women. Obviously these are not the men perpetrating the exact crimes that the women are responding about, but they are men and women who have been engaged in sexual assault with the men as the perpetrators.

Characteristic of Rape/Man's Version/Woman's Version
More than one attacker/16%/5%
Rapist hit victim/3%/9%
Woman took drugs or drank/75%/55%
Type of contact before/Below Waist/Above Waist
Amount of force man used/Mild to none/Moderate
Woman verbally told man to stop/36%/84%
Woman physically struggled/12%/70%
Event was definitely rape/1%/27%

The numbers I highlighted in red appall me. Men do not listen and they don't perceive physical and verbal resistance as real. It's not a joke, it's not a game, and it's not playing into some role-playing fantasy of yours.

These are from surveys done of undergraduate men in various East-Coast universities (714 students) The percentage indicates the percentage of students answering a 4 or 5 on a scale of 1-5 with 1 meaning strongly disagree, 2 meaning slightly disagree, 3 meaning neither agree nor disagree, 4 meaning slightly agree and 5 meaning strongly agree.

Statement/Percentage answering 4 or 5
I prefer relatively small women. 93.7%
I like to dominate a woman. 91.3%
I enjoy the conquest part of sex. 86.1%
Some women look like they're just asking to be raped. 83.5%
I get excited when a woman struggles over sex. 63.5%
It would be exciting to use force to subdue a woman. 61.7%

Have you ever looked at how men talk about sex with women and how they treat them as possessions?
"I could teach her a thing or two"
"I hope I score tonight"
"I could really put it to her"
or treat them as commodities...
"I bet I could get her if I tried."
"She was the best piece of ass I ever had"
"How would you like a piece of that?"
The list goes on and on... Men who view sex as something they get from a woman are already bordering on rape...

What about universities involved in fraternity gang rape situations? These are older events

• San Diego State University1985-At least 3 Pi Kappa Alpha members were accused of raping an 18 yr old Delta Gamma pledge at a party. The local DA said there wasn't enough evidence to prosecute despite the university charging 30 members for violation of the school's conduct policy after interviewing 45 individuals at the party.

• University of Florida 1983-Six Pi Lambda Phi members were accused of raping a freshman girl who was at the house for a "Little Sisters" rush event.

• University of Pennsylvania 1983-Nine Alpha Tau Omega were accused of raping a 22 yr old woman who was drunk and on LSD. No criminal charges were filed.

• University of Iowa-Three frat members pleaded guilty to assault causing great bodily injury to a 20 yr old woman in her dorm room.

• University of New Hampshire-Three sophomore boys (2 frat members) raped a drunk female in her dorm room. The university judicial board found all three not guilty of sexual assault, but two guilty of "disrespect to others" (whatever the fuck that means?) but a criminal court found two of the men guilty of sexual assault--60 days in jail and 120 hours community service.

• Franklin and Marshall College-Six member of Phi Sigma Kappa were accused of assaulting a woman from another university in their house during a party. The fraternity was removed from the university following this event.

• University of Virginia-a 17 yr old freshman became heavily intoxicated at a frat party and reports being restrained, stripped and raped by several men. She refused to press charges out of fear she would be disbelieved because she was drunk.

Just google "Fraternity Rapes" on google news... I'm sick...

Now, what about a couple of college athletic teams coming to light over similar situations?

• University of Minnesota-Three basketball players were accused of raping a woman in a hotel in Madison following a victory. All 3 were acquitted of 12 counts of sexual assault, but all three were dismissed from the team following the allegations.

• West Virginia University-Five Basketball players were accused of raping a woman in her dorm room. No formal charges were filed but 2 were suspended for the season and 3 for one semester.

• Duquesne University-Four basketball players are charged with raping a woman in their dorm room. Charges were dropped against 3 of them and the 4th was acquitted. Two of the men were expelled from school and two were suspended.

Allegations of sexual misconduct do not end here... The reports of sexual assault by other athletes and sexual misconduct by organizations (University of Wisconsin Marching Band???) go on forever. These events negatively impact the lives of the affected women for the rest of their lives.

Once you take gang-rape or group assault out of the picture, the list gets exponentially longer-of women abused and raped one-on-one by men.

This is getting way too lengthy, but one more truly disturbing chart of results...

Men=% of men agreeing that it's ok to force sex in the situation
Women=% of women agreeing they deserve to have sex forced on them in the situation

Situation--Men--Women
-She is going to have sex with him --54%--31%
but changes her mind
-She has led him on --54% --26%
-She gets him sexually aroused --51%-- 42%
-They have dated for over 6 months --43% --32%
-She lets him touch her breasts already --39%-- 28%

42% of women think it's ok for a man to force them to have sex just because he got it up??? This number is revolting to me. I was once there, maybe I still am... I mean, doesn't it hurt a guy to not have sex once he's sexually aroused? I'm sad that such a large number of women believe this too... Women-It's not ok, it's never ok, I don't care if you've already started having sex with him, if you want to stop, it's over and done-no more... I know I struggle to say no, but at least I don't believe a man needs to have sex anymore...

Anyways, enough of this today, it's emotionally draining and has undoubtedly brought me down. It's ok though, sometimes things need to be said and I have an obligation to do so.

Behavioral Triggers

I was asked years ago by a T to identify things that trigger my behaviors or trigger memories/flashbacks.

Touching or threatening to touch my throat
Eating in front of me
Eating loudly
Grabbing me from behind
Startling me
Holding me down
Being forced to eat
grabbing my ankles or wrists
yelling
Staring at me-I assume you're thinking I'm disgusting, why else would you stare?
Seeing thin and beautiful girls
Failure
Stress
anxiety
touching my scars
weighing myself
eating
icecream, brownies, cookies, cupcakes etc... I will binge and I will purge...
seeing fat people
seeing fat people eat.......

Damaged

Plumb-Damaged

Lyrics are needed to help me with this song...

"Dreaming comes so easily
'cause it's all that I've known
True love is a fairy tale
I'm damaged, so how would I know"

I've never known love and don't believe I ever will. Love is something that happens to others. Nobody wants to love a damaged good which is all I am. There are so many intact women out there to love, why would someone pick out the girl on the "defective-returns" shelf.

"I'm scared and I'm alone
I'm ashamed
And I need for you to know
I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can't take back what you've taken away
'cause I feel you, I feel you near me"

I am all of this. Scared, alone and ashamed. The isolation that AY sequestered me into has stood up to the years. 5 years later, I am still isolated from the rest of the people because it's easier to cope... People often say "I wish I could take it back," AY can never "take back" what he took from me. It's gone. My trust, my self respect, my belief that others are inherently good, my desire for intimacy, my comfort around others, my desire to live, and so much more... I feel AY all the time, he haunts my dreams and my days. I have lived in constant fear and anxiety since I left. I fear he will come to my apartment and hurt me-he knows where I live. I never said everything I needed to say-if I had, he would have stopped. If I had said it right, he would be in jail. If I was a strong woman, none of this would even be an issue. It would have been over and done so fast-AY's life would have been over as he knew it, and I would have moved on. Instead, I didn't say or do the right things, and 21 months later I was the one left without a life or a future and AY has continued his life as planned.

"Healing comes so painfully
And it chills to the bone
Will anyone get close to me?
I'm damaged, as I'm sure you know"

I don't know healing-why should I 'heal' myself just to be an assault victim anyways. I'm damaged, no one should get close to me. I'm disgusting, dirty-filthy, violated, and thrown out. Who would want to love someone who has already been loved out and thrown away? Sounds like someone who is awfully desperate is the only one who would even try. I belonged to someone else first, but, unlike a discarded teddy-bear, you can't throw me in the wash and I'll come out good as new, I'm dirty inside and out and nothing will ever change that. You can't repair what was done.

"There's mending for my soul
An ending to this fear
Forgiveness for a man who was stronger
I was just a little girl, but I can't go back"

I was recently asked if I had forgiven AY. The answer is yes. Have I forgiven myself? No. This is the final verse and it's a verse I haven't gotten myself to. I have not found mending for my soul or any semblance of an ending to this fear. I live in fear... I have forgiven AY... I was just a little girl; a sad, desperate, weak, and scared girl. I can't go back, but god how I wish I could... I wish I could take back my every action during those nearly 2 years. At the same time, I don't... What was done to me will always remind me of the stupid weak girl I was, and, in most ways, still am. If AY hadn't done this to me, some other man would have. I only wish AY had taken my life. Is it sick that thought goes through my mind whenever I find myself alone with a man? It's like a silent prayer "if you're going to assault me, please kill me too as I can't live through it again." That is a warped mind...

Children Assaulting Children

This news article haunts me. This toddler may never know what happened, I'm not sure I believe a single event that occurs at this age scars a child for life.

I constantly ask what possesses a man to sexually assault a woman, to think that kind of contact, control, and abuse are acceptable. When a 7 and 9 year old decide to have sexual contact with a 2 year old girl, there is something so drastically wrong with their heads I can't wrap my own around it. I will admit naivety, but, I'm not sure I knew what sex was when I was 9 years old. If I did, there was no part of me that thought having sex with a baby was a good idea... Where is the teaching of proper and age-appropriate play? I don't feel, at this time, that this should be classified as rape. I believe rape is a conscious choice to hurt and demean another person while exhibiting sexual power over him/her and I hope these two children were NOT acting on power and control... That said, this story is not about simply touching a girl. That is not uncommon among children-I forget the number or where it was from, but over half of children have touched themselves or others sexually before the age of 10. This is not in some pedophilic or sexual behavior, it's curiosity. Yes, it's taught to be inappropriate-and it is, but it's fairly harmless and common behavior. Such normal childhood behavior would not have landed these children in treatment based fostercare... What were these two young boys exposed to that put this idea in their head? Beyond the idea, they knew it was wrong. When questioned by authorities, both denied doing it each implicating the other boy. To lie in a situation like this shows the boys knew their actions were wrong-though, perhaps not how wrong... I feel pain for these boys, whatever they saw in their young lives to give them the idea to sexually assualt a baby horrifies me. One lives with his mother, the other with his grandmother-I am disgusted by these people who have clearly failed to teach these children right from wrong and how to treat other human beings...

However, stories like these make me wonder how many men who abuse women were exposed to this as young children. It's not an excuse-there comes a point where people are responsible for their actions and reactions regardless of how they were raised. It still raises the question of the culpability of the parents in situations where a teen or young adult abuses another person... What role did their upbringing play?

There have been numerous times I've wondered about what AY saw and was exposed to as a child. I know his dad divorced his mom when he was 10 and his dad moved to China. I really know nothing else. He never really spoke of it-the one time he did he was crying (rare display of emotion). It must not have been pretty. His step dad was very controlling of him and his mom and was certainly not a positive influence in his life. I want to know if these past man-woman relationships in his life warped him so badly that they pushed him to be the abuser that he was?

The childhood that AY didn't cause him to do the things he did to me, but one has to wonder the influence they had on him and his view of treating women.

This is just one set of events in AY's life that I wonder about. JN has a set that is entirely his own.

Anyways, about the article. I hope the guardians are punished for the behaviors of their children. I will be utterly appalled if they are let off in a case where they clearly were exposing these young boys to ferociously inappropriate behavior. If 7 and 9 year olds can conceive the idea of rape, how do you think these same boys will view women and sex as teens and adults? It is no wonder that some men do not show respect toward women-they are raised believing girls are just objects that they can do unto as they please.

The List of Songs

I guess I need to start somewhere on this list of songs. The first 3 are fairly similar and were the first three that popped in my head. Apparently my mind is wrapped up in the battle of wanting, needing to cut myself and my conscience trying to stop it.

Plumb-Cut
I wish I could find her actual music video, it's so powerful. My scars define me, they define my every move-what I wear, who I go out with... Many have faded, there are new ones too. Some will never leave. I feel, if I show any of my scars that people just stare. They can't look me in the eye, look at who I really am as a person, they can't get past the scars... People have this preconceived idea of the attention-seeking nature of self injury. I don't want to be judged, please. I don't want attention, and, if I did, I wouldn't wear long-sleeves and pants when it's 95 degrees out to cover the scars. On another note, this song talks about tears of pain, not of sadness. I am not sad, I don't cry because I'm sad. I hurt, in ways I don't even understand, in ways I can't put words or even thoughts to... I cry because I'm in pain.

Between the Trees-The Way She Feels
This song is just that-The Way She Feels. Cutting relieves all those tensions, pains, and frustrations from the day. My blade is like a friend, but it's empty... There is nothing in that blade but all the crimson tears my skin can shed. "Left alone to deal with all the pain-drenched sorrow relief." That's what cutting gives me. The pain (emotional, not physical) release is unexplainable. The anxiety is gone, it's over. The tears come, they almost always come. Just sitting there watching the bleeding, my face soaked with tears... I don't understand how it calms, but it is like this white sheet of peace being draped over me. Once the tears stop, the pain is gone. It never lasts though...

Riah-Across Her Skin
First and foremost, my father never never never sexually abused me. I was, however, abused as a second grade child. What did that makes me, 7? I don't remember a lot of it and, in many ways, don't feel it affected me much after the immediate time. My favorite T disagrees... It's a child's coping mechanism to block out what occured and the confusion surrounding it. I really don't recall many details. I can't take the pain, I know the wounds on my heart and soul will never heal and I cut. Again, this song is incredibly powerful, the raw reality is painful for even me to listen to. I want to cry for the little girl who wrote this song and poured every emotion she had into it.

Cuts are physical wounds, you can see them, you know how they got there and that they will heal. You can see them heal, it makes sense. Physical pain makes sense, I can understand it, and, unfortunately, I embrace it. Physical pain shatters through emotional numbness and distracts you from nerves/anxiety. I remember, even as a young gymnast, beating my feet on the floor until they hurt so bad I could no longer feel the pounding every time my foot hit to quell my anxiety at meets. I would have lumps and massive bruises from this. I remember doing this as young as 7 or 8 but it may have been even earlier. I've finally surprised myself, I never realized I had been causing myself pain to relieve anxiety for that long. I figured it started in 6th grade-the first time I cut. Oddly enough, it was within 2 weeks of the first time I purged. Funny, in a way, how a 14 day period began a life-spiral that I wouldn't find my way out of. That time has lead to 13 years of eating disorders and self-injury.

Songs that put words to how I feel. When I feel more up to it, you'll know why these are all on here. In the meantime, listen, you can probably figure it out.

Plumb-Cut
Riah-Across Her Skin
Between the Trees-The Way she Feels
Plumb-Damaged
Dashboard Confessional-The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most
Garbage-Bleed Like Me
Superchic-Hero
Death Cab for Cutie-Beneath the Bixby Canyon Bridge
Breaking Benjamin-Here We Are
Tore Amos-Me and a Gun
The Molly's-One Day I went out Walking
Alice Cooper-Only Women Bleed
Death Cab for Cutie-Transatlanticism
Clint Black-Like the Rain
Superchic-Courage
Greenday-Wake Me up, When September Ends
Tori Amos-Silent All These Years
Superchic-Beauty from Pain
Linkin Park-Numb
Papa Roach-Last Resort
Evanescence-Breathe No More
Plumb-Manic
Superchic-Stand in the rain
Korn-Alone I Break
E. Yip Harburg-Over the Rainbow
Simon and Garfunkel-Sounds of Silence
Bright Eyes-Lua
Nine Inch Nails-Hurt

Everything in this life is a lesson...

Everything in this life is a lesson, or else it is beautiful.

Aren't we supposed to learn from lessons? There has not been a lesson in this life that I haven't needed repeated.

Just tonight, I get a call from AY. I answered... I feel defeated; I just gave in to him again. Do I want, so desperately, the reason he abused me that I will destroy any little shards of life I have regained just to know? The sad truth is, I will. If he promised to tell me the reason, I'd let him end my life. I just need to know. What possesses an individual to rape another, to put a pillow over her face so his roommate cannot hear or perhaps, so he didn't have to see my face. What possesses an individual to hit another across the face for showing up 5 minutes late for our "sex date"? What was it about me that told him I would never tell? How did I come off so weak that he knew I would comply? What sets a girl up for an abusive relationship? What kind of a girl tolerates the abusive behavior?

I came back from GB one evening determined to understand why I had been raped, not once, but over and over (I have a number, there is just no point to posting it). I needed to understand why he would hit me until I was silent, until I performed any sexual act he desired. I needed to know that it wasn't my fault. But, it was and is. I know this. That evening I picked AY up from his apartment after dark, he told me to drive to the lake side of Lot 60. I parked and we walked down lakeshore to a place where there was some sand along the water, a ways off the path. At that moment, I wondered whether he planned to rape or kill me, I was ready for either, but I hoped he would end it, end the pain and the memories forever. As I said above, if he gives me the answer, it can be over and I'd be ok with it. He spent the next 3 hours telling me that I brought it on myself, that by continuing the relationship I showed him it was ok. He denied ever hitting me and told me I was a liar. He also denied forcing me to have sex or perform sexual acts. He said that someone must have put these ideas in my head. I sat there in silence, unable to say a word. Some truly heinous things were said that night, when I felt he was done, I stood up and he followed me back to my car. I dropped him off at his apartment and am not sure what happened after. There was another time I searched for answers. It was just over a year ago when I met him at his apartment and ended up falling asleep (spending the night). Again, I wanted the answer as to why. What happened that night I don't wish to even mention, but the answer was never given. I left the following morning hurt, betrayed, and with a renewed sense of self-hatred I hadn't felt in years. I have put my very life on the line for this answer. I don't understand my need to know, but, at the same time, I do. I need to know in order to change who I am so I can prevent another man from doing the same. I need to know what I did so wrong that made me deserve what he did. I need to know what I could have done to stop him. I need to know what role I played in allowing the abuse to continue. I just need to know.

This is the same man who I fear living in the same city as, the man who calls me leaving messages that only say my address and apt. #. This man who terrorizes my dreams and my days is the same one I want to fall on my knees begging for answers in front of. This is the man who I still answer when he sends me messages... The very same man who destroyed the fragile yet rewarding life that I once had. The man who destroyed my everything is the man who I can't let go of.

What have I done to deserve this prison?

Black is not a feeling

One day in therapy (a long time ago now) I was asked how I was feeling. I said black. We spent the next 45 minutes discussing how 'black' is not a feeling, it is a description of a feeling. I still dwell on and loathe that conversation. Fat and ugly and ginormous are not feelings either... but that's another day. I feel black, or very close to it-the darkest shade of gray you can imagine. Indifferent about life, or so it seems. I feel every moment is just dragging me down further. I once wrote (and the letter has been lost) that depression is like sliding down a muddy slope, once you start it's nearly impossible to stop-you have to kick your feet in with everything you have, hoping against hope that there is a hidden foothold somewhere in there to slow you enough to catch your balance again. I feel like I've rolled over, I don't even care if I get a foot into the hill or not, in fact, it seems like I'm trying to avoid it... Being happy is too hard, it's easier to quit. Probably means I wasn't happy in the first place.

Back to feeling black. What does it mean? I feel hopeless, worthless, betrayed, apprehensive, unwanted, afraid, fat, and pure and unadulterated guilt. I suppose I either have to delve into these and explain or this is another pointless exercise.

Worthless. I have been used and abused then kicked to the curb on more than one occasion. Who on earth wants someone with even half the emotional baggage I possess? I sold myself in college, I hated myself so much I probably would have done it for free-I came close enough. I was hit, kicked and forced sexually by my 'boyfriend,' (AY) I was forced to sleep with AY's male friends. I did drugs-hard drugs, I drank, I cut and burned myself.

Betrayed. AY took the trust I had in the goodness of all people and destroyed it. AY did things to me that aren't done in prison without the slightest remorse. Never once did he ask me if I was ok, and to this day he has neither apologized nor admitted he was wrong. The man-JN who 'rescued' me from AY (as he so often reminded me-he was my rescuer) wasn't much better. I was emotionally gone and obviously vulnerable... It started ok, he seemed to care and doted on me. Held me through the worst of the nightmares... Then he slept with me because he deserved it and I owed him for getting me away from AY. This went on for over a year before he went to jail for abusing a teenage girl. maybe that goes in the worthless category-sleeping with a child molester after I knew he was guilty.

Unwanted. I can't even get the time of day from most people much less some forced invitation for a 'date.' No one has so much as pretended to be interested in me in ~4 years. Reread 'worthless.' I'm unwanted because I deserve to be unwanted.

Apprehensive. I am constantly on edge, have irrational fears, and am often borderline neurotic. Most people don't see this side of me, it goes on in my head. I guess I'm good at putting on an act... I live in the same city as both AY and JN, AY knows I'm here and knows my address-I don't know how. I fear he will break into my apartment and be waiting for me, or come in the night when I'm asleep. Rightly or wrongly, I fear he will follow through on threats against me and my family still. It will be 5 years in May and I still worry he is unstable enough and angry enough to come after me. I worry about work-whether I'll continue to have a job and whether or not I can put up with the politics and teenage drama there. I worry about hurting the people I love. I worry whether or not those same people love me back... I worry about AY and JN and whether they're hurting other women. I worry about a very dear friend nearly every minute. I worry about how what I say and do every minute might affect someone or offend them...

Afraid. see above. I'm scared of so many things. I startle and flinch, I have flashbacks, panic attacks, and prefer to avoid the world. I avoid pain, I hate it...

Fat/Ugly. Without knowing me, you won't understand. I have a warped perception of myself. I see fat and I can feel it. It's there. My perception isn't warped, by the way, someone told me that. He'd probably tell me i was pretty if I hadn't showered in a month and was wearing some dirty sheet... No wonder I don't believe him when he says my perception is wrong. If I was pretty, someone would pay real attention to me, not just because they have to.

Pure and unadulterated guilt. I have wasted my life, I have hurt the ones I love and, worse yet, the ones who actually loved me back. This one is the hard one, I feel so much guilt for the things I do and don't do every day but the big things overwhelm me. I owe a lot of apologies that I have refused to give and I need to forgive numerous people still in my life. That needs to be another day.

I'm sure there is so much more leading to this horribly dark place I feel I am in. But, this is wearing me out... Don't have the energy to continue tonight.

The baby that wasn't

It's come up over and over lately, at least in my own head. Things I hear, see, read, and even smell trigger memories in me. Probably the most dangerous trigger for me is touch. Touch has been used to hurt me more than I can even recall. I know why it's so raw in my mind, 6 years ago I chose to terminate a pregnancy that was the result of rape by a man who would assault me for the longest 21 months of my life. I look back on that choice with nothing but distain and self-hatred. How could I so simply decide to take that action? How could I lay there, emotionless during it all and "it all" was a very long and painful process, pain I still feel psychological twinges of today. I did what I felt I had to do at the time. Had I kept the pregnancy, no one would have believed I was raped and hit, belittled and humiliated, controlled and forced to submit... No one would believe he threatened my sister's life if I left, and no one would believe he was the cause of many injuries-not gymnastics... Unfortunately, no one knows about the baby that isn't, and no one believes the reality of those 21 months. That baby was destroyed for nothing other than my own selfish wants, my shallow fears, and my inability to communicate with anybody. 8 months later I would miscarry. He took my birth-control from me, told me I didn't trust him-he never used condoms. I couldn't get more, my prescriptions ran out. I took antidepressants, he said I was weak and a whiner. I cut, he said I was attention-seeking. I purged, he told me "good, at least you won't be so fat" and "God, how much do you eat, no wonder you look like a turkey." I cut myself every time he raped me and every time he laid a hand on me. If I could scar my body he wouldn't want to touch me-who wants an ugly girl? I still cut, no one should want me, I'm used, abused, and cast away to the curb like the trash that I have always been. I cut the other day, when I was drunk. I'm sad I did that. One is fairly deep. I have not cut so impulsively in a long time, rarely without thoroughly considering what I was doing. I have made myself uglier than I was the day before.

I digressed. There are so many emotions I have regarding the abortion I had when I was only 18, emotions I can't put words to and certainly can't tell others. I'm not sure I can even express them in my own thoughts. They're there, the hate I feel toward myself is so raw and so real, I want to scream-bury my face in a pillow and scream until I can't anymore. Maybe then the tears can come. There are so many unshed tears from the time I was with AY. I have never cried about the abortion or my first miscarriage-which I undoubtedly caused by means of bulimia. The physical and sexual abuse were minor compared to what I went through emotionally. I can handle physical pain, a lot of it, I could numb out the sexual aspects, but I couldn't ignore the fear. Looking at it now, I have a lot of intimacy issues that stem, undoubtedly, from the abuse AY did to me. The flashbacks are terrifying-they bring me to a place I barely remember in the conscious, but, when my mind takes control I remember every single second, every touch and every word.

Those 21 months destroyed the little shreds of life I had left. The 5 years that have followed have burned the remnants to irreparable ashes. The pain he caused was like causing paper to just glow with fire, how it continues to slowly smolder until nothing is left even after the fire is taken away. That is what has happened to my life-he started the fire of fear and worthlessness that has continued to burn away any tiny pieces of me that might have still been there.

How is it that I hate myself more than the man (face it, he's not a man or even a person, one wouldn't do the things he did) who beat and raped me, who threatened my family to keep me with him? Maybe because I was weak enough to believe him... Because I let him control every aspect of my life and manipulate me like some little chess piece (he played on some national level) to get what he wanted-dominating sex...

This is as disorganized as my mind-I hate trying to decipher my thoughts some days, now you get a chance to try... good luck-at least there was some editing here before it got to you.


What is rock-bottom?
I may not be a drug addict, but this skims the surface of what I have been thinking about

It's a Journey-I'm not on it

I find myself not hanging on this journey of life. All I feel is myself slipping back into blackness, a zone of not caring about anything. Certainly don't care about myself or what I do. I wish I could disappear from this world. The best part is when I said to four separate people today, "I was hoping I was dead, but then I heard my alarm go off" and all they said was "really???" and "that's funny." Maybe I'm too good at pretending to be content (happy is too strong of a word).

My mind is stuck in a cycle of self-deprecating thoughts, most don't seem excessive, I mean, there is truth behind them, and all sorts of cynical thoughts about others. Sitting in a restaurant, all I can feel are peoples' eyes on me-judging what i eat and how I eat it. It makes me feel fatter and uglier than I am. I walk down the street and see people staring at my chubby sides and big thighs, it makes me want to wear huge clothes. at least then they can't see the truth... the list goes on.

I'm just exhausted. When you're so tired you can't keep your eyes open yet someone inside of you is forcing you to purge anyways, you know you have ceded all control. I know I have none right now, however, I can chose whether or not to eat, I guess I do still have control.

Wherever the journey is going, I'm not going with it, I'm staying exactly where I am. Obviously I fell off whatever was taking me along.

Power and Control

A friend told me I needed to look at this. The only parts that aren't applicable are the Using Children section and the part about making me do illegal things... That's really hard to look at and read knowing that it was my life. In some ways I wonder if I seek this control and abuse still. There is comfort in the familiar, there is also fear.

What did I do?

I can't quit on myself, B won't let me. I drank myself past any acceptable place last night, it wasn't that i drank that much, but, I know I drank it pretty fast. I really don't remember it. I hurt myself both physically and emotionally, and, worse, I hurt the one person who gives a ** about me in this world. There are many things I do that I know are wrong and I shouldn't do, but for others to not only know about them, but to see... I don't know what is known or was seen last night, I'm disgusted with myself. I know I said things last night I wish I hadn't. B worries about me a lot already, I know this, but to add whatever I said. Though, I've always believed you never say anything drunk that you don't think about sober. They call it 'truth serum' for a reason. I still wish I knew what I said. It has been a very very long time since I've been like that. I know I cried though I don't know why. I feel so low, that I hurt someone to the point they can't or won't talk about it to me.

I remember telling B one time that talking is ameliorative. Might be the only time B had to stop and think about what a word meant. My vocabulary is much larger than I tend to use on a daily basis. Writing (talking) is restorative and therapeutic; it's ameliorative. It organizes your thoughts and feelings and gives you a concrete way to move past them. Once they are spoken or written, they are in the past, they're gone, and it's done. The mind doesn't move on like that, the mind still can't let go, but they world has. The world has long forgotten about yesterday so why do I insist on holding on so strongly to that which has already been cast away?

I found myself in a bad place during my year living in DP. I drank a lot, took sleeping meds all day long to keep myself drugged out of any level of awareness or at least caring, cut and burned myself often and would often go days without eating. Many who know me think DP was probably the lowest time for me, maybe if you include the last 5 months of college everyone would agree... I look back on that year and wonder what is so different now. On the whole, I don't drink any more, that is a good thing. I still drug myself out when not at work (oh, I have a job, that must make SP a better time for me), I cut (maybe less, but the desires are still there) and burn, purge nearly daily, and still go frequent stretches without eating. Since DP I've gotten a job... Otherwise I've wasted 2 more years that I've still been sick and have put 2 more years worth of ED damage onto myself. My throat hurts just to swallow, you can imagine what eating is like, my whole chest hurts-aches really when I breathe, and the reflux (presumably from damaging the end of my esophagus by purging so much) burns so badly I often can't sleep. When you have to purge every last drop of liquid from your stomach in order to reduce the reflux you should know there is a problem. Ok, I know, but I don't seem to care.

I made a comment last night about my fat butt. B told me I have a very warped mind. Sometimes I get weak and let ED slip through and do the talking. ED hates me right now, he knows how fat and ugly I am, and worse yet, how enormous I will look in my bridesmaid dress in May. ED is screaming at me to quit being weak and to lose weight so I can be pretty. It seems ED has been loud enough to have his words spoken by my voice lately. Again, things I never meant for others to know or to hear. Hearing the voices inside my head must be incredibly disturbing for others. Knowing what I hear all day and all night though... It's no wonder I think I'm crazy. I have some crazy guy, conveniently called ED, berating me 24 hours a day. That's the worst part of an imaginary (abusive) friend-they never sleep. When i sleep and escape ED, haunting memories of AY are there to torture me. If you think ED is the abuser, you've never met AY. Some days I don't know if being awake or being asleep is better, to pick between those two choices is distressing. It's that krieg that has driven me over the edge numerous times, that battle in my head has almost ended my life more than once.

All I want is some moments of pure tranquility. The last true moments of peace I recall were when I was sitting on a beach on Lake Superior. I hardly remember that day-it was as if I were in another world, yet I can recall so many details. I sat in complete silence for over 10 hours that day, tranced by the sound of the waves on the rocky shore. Waves sound more soothing on a rocky beach than on fine sand-hearing the rocks tumbling over each other under the water adds to the serenity. The North Shore of Lake Superior has been my secret hideaway for many years. The beauty and power of that lake never gets old. As much as I love that place, an unplanned trip would likely be some last desperate attempt to save myself. I can think of nothing else that would drag me on a 7 hour journey to the middle of nowhere. I remember my last trip, the 10 hour day on the beach... I took nothing along that i could hurt myself with. I took just 2 of all of my drugs, enough for the two days I figured I'd be there, no razors, no pens/pencils/safety pins/paper clips or anything else sharp, metal or that I had tried using before to hurt myself. I wasn't going to die there on that trip-I made sure of it. While it's not an overly active thought right now, it'd be a beautiful place to let go-black thought of the day...

After last night, I went to work at 5, got done what was needed, went home "sick" the rest of the morning, maybe mentally sick, not physically, and am going back shortly for an afternoon event. I'm not sure why I agreed to go back, but, it'll be good to get my mind off life. Maybe my favorite rat won't be so pissy today because yesterday, he tried to bite me three separate times... no more extra peanuts for him :(

Peace and love-I hope I can find them too...

dark place

So, I promised myself this blog was for my recovery and until I made the first step, this blog was just going to hang out here in cyberspace. I lied. I want to write this in a journal, but, I remember the pain contained inside those worn pages like it was yesterday. I hold those words in my hands, run my fingers over them, and even see the occasional blood-stained page-from when the pain exceeded anything I could begin to comprehend. I don't want these words forever scrawled in ink upon pages I will cry over for years to come. That is something else entirely. How do the words written on those pages bring so many pains back to the surface? I can read those journals, knowing exactly what will be on the next page, yet the knowledge of those words doesn't bring up nearly the emotion that reading them does. Anyways, I digressed... Much of the pain and betrayal of my past might be covered later, the causes will likely not.

I spent a wonderful weekend with a friend, had some drinks, talked casually, had some fun, and even managed to go to church (on a non-christian holiday) for the first time in probably 6 years. In fact, I was even convinced to sing in choir... now, i must have been in a good mood. Granted, it's not a church I feel any desire to return to. Now, a mere 12 hours later, I sit here in tears, not knowing why or even where they're coming from. I feel myself sliding down into an emotional low I haven't seen in months. I had a dream the other night I hadn't had in a while; maybe that was the catalyst that pushed me back to the edge? The dream you ask? you would have to know me, really know me to understand... I can't move, I can't scream, and I can only barely pry my eyes open. It's the feeling of being drugged yet fully aware of what is happening. Maybe I was drugged enough on my sleeping meds? But, I know the events did not occur again, without a doubt, they were not repeated yesterday. In fact, I think I forgot my sleeping meds. that wasn't the cause at all... Perhaps this played a role in taking me where I am now? I don't know. I realized before work that my computer charger was left at my friend's house. This simple mistake resulted in so many tears I had to stop driving. I talked to him, he offered to drive it to me (almost 4 hours round trip), I refused, I offered to make the trip-he said ok, but I know I can't go. Emotionally, I don't think I can make it, emotionally, I'm not sure I can handle the kindness of bringing it to me. I'm not sure I'm in a place to see him-to see anybody...

I feel like a needy child. I want so badly to be held and told it's ok-to be rocked and cared for, to just not be alone. I am not a child, but I still long for that contact, security, and love.

Maybe I should have seen this fall coming. The other day I picked up my blade, for the first time in nearly 6 months and ran it across my thigh. The blood is disturbingly soothing. This weekend I ate a lot, I feel disgusting and I look it too. Maybe this also is taking me down. Tonight, the desire to both purge and to cut threatens to overcome me. It'll calm me enough to sleep, but I know better. Purging is coping that no one can see, when you cut, you offer that shame for the world to see.

I need to go sit in the shower, anything to take my mind of it's incessant obsessions. I am scared of this feeling, I don't want to lose my footing and fall again. Everyone thinks I'm ok, I'm not strong enough to pretend... I'm trying so hard to avoid unhealthy coping mechanisms is the first step in recovery-maybe I've come further than I previously thought. I doubt it, I give in almost every day, in fact, I have today already...

Not Now

Some day I'll share my story, my journey, my life... But, now is not the time.