Untitled Poetry.

When I was a girl,

I thought I’d live forever,

and although that cliches been written,

my life has just begun.

 

The demons on the outside,

the devil lives within us,

every magazine and movie

to show us what we should be

 

We hide away within ourselves, 

shaming our reflection.

We cover up our emotions,

with negative devotions.

Head in the toilet,

head in the clouds.

This really is living out loud.

But  no one can hear you

when you scream out for help,

“She just wants attention”, 

they convince themselves.

 

Once you’re broken and you’ve withered away,

with no sight of the shore, 

with every symptomatic struggle

you fall deeper into slumber

of yesterdays goodbyes

and tomorrows never mores.

They send you away,

“Three meals a day!”

That’ll be the cure.

 

Outside successful, inside a messful,

a numbness so divine,

you’re running out of time.

 

You scream, you cry,

in the shadows of the night.

Yesterdays tomorrow.

Tomorrow never comes if you’re trapped in the night,

trapped in a body you fight.

 

Lies undone.

Faux promises broken,

of dreams that would never come.

A life unlivable. 

A suffering so deep you never sleep,

until that final sundown,

where you find eternal peace.

 

 

-Written August 29th, while in residential at renfrew.

 

one month

my life since officially starting my recovery has been more stressful than ever.

my psychiatrist recommended I get an assessment at the Renfrew Center. I did. 

At renfrew they suggested I go for inpatient.

friday morning I’m leaving my family, my friends, my job, my whole life to sit in a building and eat.

i had to tell my mother. she’s been awkward.

i told my friends. they’re more supportive than i ever thought they could be.

i cry everyday. im conquering my biggest fear and climbing my tallest mountain.. and although i want to be recovered more than anything in the entire world, i physically can’t handle it. I don’t think I’m strong enough for this, I don’t know if i can survive this.

i’ve stopped interacting with people. I’ve stopped talking. at work instead of being chipper, i work in silence. my boss things im on drugs because of the bags under my eyes. I’ve worn myself to the bone, literally. 

at 109 pounds, I will be checking in on friday, with no cell phone, no internet, no facebook, twitter, blog, news, or outside world. see you in a month. i love you all.

 

prozac

i have been absolutely miserable since my appointment at CPC. and not emotionally. I didn’t think I was going to live through the last two days. on top of having horrible sun poisoning, the doctor there put me on prozac. just 10mg, but its hit me like a train. she said you wouldnt feel any difference for about 2 weeks, and after this week im not sure what difference im supposed to feel because i feel like I’ve been hit with a mack truck. 

at first i thought I had a concussion, but theres not real way I could’ve gotten one. my head is on FIRE. constantly. since saturday. I’m ready to rip it off.

I’m nauseous and light headed. I’m spaced the fuck out. I cant connect one single thought, and I feel like an airhead. I sit directly in front of the air conditioner and i sweat profusely. my stomach hurts. I either sleep 16 hours or 3 hours. I’m constantly tired. I’m dehydrated and coughing. My vision goes blurry at times & I feel like im dying.

Like do these symptoms ever go away? Is it even worth it to keep taking this? It’s affecting my everyday life. I’ve only purged 2 times since friday, but at the same time I have no appetite and lost five pounds. I’ve never been more miserable in my life and its almost like its easier and more reasonable, for me and those I have to be around to just be eating disordered. 

I tried calling out of work last night, but they wouldnt let me. I’m overworked, overexhausted, and over this. I want to go to the gym, but even the THOUGHT of running and shaking my brain makes my head hurt. I called my doctor on monday to ask her if i could stop taking this medicine.. she hasnt called me back, and I can’t do this shit for much longer. It’s stopping my life and all the things I need to get done I have no motivation to do because i feel like garbage.

CPC

I’ve been half blogging… Half writing.. Never finishing a thought. Today’s the first day I go to CPC a psychotherapy place.. A place for psychos. A place for me. I’m scared. I’m about to cry. In freaking out. I don’t know how ready I am for this.. I thought I was.. But the reality of this.. It’s so much scarier

OUR SECOND BIRTHDAY!!

ITS ANANYMOUSB’S SECOND BIRTHDAY!!!

to celebrate, read some of my favorite “recovery” pinterest pins.

 

 

rando rant

over the last few days or weeks ive been focusing on finding myself. finding out who i am and what i want out of my life. 

this has made me realize alot.

i am who everyone around me wants me to be. im “that person” to everyone. the one they can count on, the one that makes them laugh, the one that they can trust, the one who they can depend on through anything. and although those are admirable qualities, the reason for this is because i change who i am and everything about me to fit the needs of those people. ive excelled at reading people, because at one point or another ive probably been that person. the person who was cheated on, the one who lost someone they loved, the one with drug problems, the broke one, the homeless one, the one searching for something or someone to mean something to them. the last one is the easiest to read, because that IS me, and i wonder constantly how i can somehow be a wall for those people, even though I can’t be strong enough to hold myself up. 

i think about my dreams. everyone always asks me what my career goals are. “going with the flow” doesnt seem to be an acceptable answer. “youll have to figure it out soon” they always warn. but I never will. i’ve always had my goals and dreams set for me. people set these goals that they know i can accomplish… and thats not the problem. I can accomplish anything i put my mind to, this i know, but its exceeding those goals. It’s the unwritten implication of the goal. going above and beyond. 

i cant make one good decision for my life, i can’t do one thing right. yet im expected to have it all figured out, to have all the answers. and it seems after the fact, whn i figure out the “acceptable” answer to whatever the question may be, it just flows out. It’s meaningless. i feel nothing about it. then once you figure out the answer like… “what do you want to major in?” “oh, maybe history”… they throw you through another loop.. “what do you want to do with that?” i dont fucking know. i answered your question, get off my back. and its like im stressing myself out thinking about the rest of my life.

people might say “think about the present, think about the day to day” but how is it so damn easy to think about the day to day when everyone you talk to wants to talk about the future? 

 

hungry

the biggest obstacle, also the weirdest, for me to overcome is this rain. 

im not sure if ive ever consciously realized this before, but rain is an ENORMOUS trigger for me. i woke up this morning in a bed that wasnt my own, and all i could think was “what can i binge on when i get home?” and then i realized…. nothing. i felt unsatisfying proud. i made it home without any stops, except to light the cigarettes i chain smoked to get through it. Im laying back in bed trying to distract my mind as i realize that im eating. and im not eating an apple or a yogurt, im eating a kit kat. I chucked it across the room, looked out the gloomy window, and want nothing more than to purge.

i keep telling myself no… but a part of me is saying one more time. just once more. i didnt even get a “last meal”. but if i give in, will i still want to recover after? will i fall back into old traps? my hunger is insatiable. my urge to purge is consuming me. i fell my skin stretching out. I look pregnant after i eat. i dont like this.

done.

Mark it on your calendars, ladies and gentlemen, i have just experienced my final purge. This summers going to be absolute hell, recovering from this well.. hell. but I just cant do it anymore. i refuse. if i eat bad, i suffer the consequences. i learn my lesson, and move on. I can’t balance these secret lives anymore. They’re swallowing me whole and I cant fight like this any longer. Life is going on with or without me so it’s my decision whether or not I want to join the ride.

City and Colour – Paradise

this wall

ive never felt  so bipolar in my life, as i have the last few weeks. I’ve never felt so mentally insane, so crippled, so… out of the norm. Day and night part two… my mentally insane self.

by day im fine with meaning no one to anyone. i do my thing, i keep busy, i pay no mind to the boys i care nothing about hitting me up and blowing them off.. im tired, so tired. I feel bulimia eating me, i just want to sleep.. to be left alone.

but at night.. nighttime is my wall. my disconnect with a sense of urgency. I’m manic at night. I want to be everyones everything, but this wall. I cant climb over this wall. I cant break it down. I’ve built it around my body.. and everyone… my friends.. guys… my mother… myself… is on the outside. 

i ‘date’ people who are emotionally unavailable, because during the day i could care less about them.. but at night i crave touch. not sexual touch. dont kiss me. just hold me. 

even my mother.. emotionally disconnected from her, i want to hang out with her… but i cant bring myself to ask. im hiding this deep secret. this betrayal. i cant face it. 

i dont see myself in the mirror. I don’t see me. I don’t know what i look like, but that figure standing there is too fat to be bulimic. im withering, shes still there. I’m invisible, shes still there. I’m so far gone, and yet, shes still there.

a body double perhaps. because she looks fine. no wonder people don’t ask questions. outwardly she looks so healthy, but im just dead.