Realization

And it couldn't have come at a worse time. Right before finals.

Having an eating disorder has had huge costs in my life. Well, duh! right? Well, yes, I always had a sense that it was physically dangerous and a little, a lot insane, but I never really thought it would prevent me from doing what I wanted to do in the future.

But it has. I relapsed hard this past semester. And the binging and purging and starving was time consuming. As a result, I couldn't study and I didn't study. And what was supposed to be the term that was going to turn around my career. Last year was rough, I was slipping and really depressed so I wanted to make up for it before going to apply to a Ph.D. program. Instead, I didn't make up for it; I am doing even worse. But as I am right now, I have no hope of a Ph.D. program.

And I would like to think that if I get it together, I could do whatever I want to. But guess what, I don't think that is realistic. Whatever I do now, I am still an unlikely candidate for a Ph.D. program. Which makes me very depressed. Like how can I not acknowledge that I have failed and I don't know what to do with that besides engage in my favorite coping tools-b/p and SI. . .

What do I do?

It is disturbingly cold here in BG and I am trying to make preparations for next semester and the summer. But doing so is rather difficult. Will the hospital come through? If not, what should I do next? Do I want to go get the horse job and finish my degree MIA? Will I get into a Ph.D. program? If I do, should I go? If I get into Oxford or hired at the Bank of England, how do I find the money to take Sky with me? What would I do with UP? How could I leave him so far away? And what do I do with all the relationships I have developed?

I hate food. It's not that I am afraid of it, or even that I find it evil or dangerous. I just don't like it; it is a little disgusting to me. Why? Seems quite an evolutionary failure.

I am as afraid of success as I am of failure.

I know the eating disorder is horrible. But it is very hard for me to believe it.

FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT. . . A FUCKING WHALE.

And talk about insanity. Despite the fact that the diet pills give me a huge headache by the end of the day, I'm going to take them and wash them down with Diet Coke.

Yay!

Ready. . . Inner monologue

Bitch. Fat Slovenly Bitch. You are controlled and insane about food. You need it. It makes you fat. It eats you alive. You are the one who is supposed to be so smart and so full of potential. And here you are you wich. You horrible, fat, ugly person. Person, too nice for you. Creature, slave, slave to food. You are such a stupid, horrible person and you cannot figure out how to function as a normal healthy person. No you are crazy. Insane. Lazy. Horrible. Stupid. Ugly. FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT. OBESE OBESE OBESE OBESE OBESE BITCH BITCH BITCH BITCH DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

Any questions?

What does it mean???

What does it mean when you know one thing and do the other???
What does it mean when you do and do not want to do something at the same time????

What can be a more apropos definition of insanity than the above???

Life

Get on the scale, get off the scale, get on the scale, restrict, restrict, good girl, binge, purge, binge, purge, cut, get on the scale, get off the scale. Stare at the pills. Insomnia, can't get out of bed, start all over.

One of my pet beliefs

I honestly believe that if I am organized enough, thin enough, controlled enough, clean enough, scheduled enough that everything will fall into place. Everything will be easy.

So much for rationality?

No Wonder

I refuse to eat and my arms look like I fought with a lawnmower that can spell. I cannot do it all. I feel like I have to do it all. And I get so frustrated with my responsibilities that I don't even know what to do. Am I talented, probably. Am I perfect, no. But I will be and then everything will fall into place.

I am very human. And I absolutely hate, hate, hate being human. I refuse to be human. One way or another, I will no longer be human.

Frustrating!

1.) Communication is hard, no matter how well you know the person.
2.) I am crazy and I do want my eating disorder.
3.) Yes, the medications are necessary, but I should probably wait until I see the Pdoc to actually start taking them again. Left in my own mind until then.
4.) I started burning; now that's fun!

For one of the richest areas in the country, Chester County PA is poorly wired for the internet.

Anyway, I'm here in Unionville with Bruce, but in a very different psychological spot than I was two summers ago. This time I can tolerate, even appreciate myself and my perfectionistic side has become much quieter. The part of me that thinks I am a worthy human being is much louder. That all makes Bruce much more difficult to handle. I work so hard to cut him slack in so many areas, but that relational devotion is not mutual. Making me think that I am probably better off to decrease my emotional devotion. Treat the job as a job, not as a family, not as a friendship, just a job. And Bruce is just a boss.

Where that leaves Susie, I don't know. Where it leaves Jan, I don't know. People I respect, some of whom you might say I even love. Before in my life, turning off parts of my history have been easy, cutting off relationships has been a blase issue. Now it means something. It genuinely hurts. Weird.

Been a while

and in that while, my life has spiralled up, spiralled down and plateued somewhere in the middle. I cannot make the skinny sign stop flashing, but I'm not as depressed or wired, but I am apathetic.

I'm crazy.

A new diagnosis

Bipolar II with Delusions. Never would have guessed that. But I do have delusions, but they just seem so insignificant to me--I believe that you can inhale calories. I believe that sitting on the same toilet seat that a fat person sat on can make you fat. Being around fat people. I believe that food is inherently evil.

And the Abilify, I think, is starting to have some side effects. And that is why I am so jittery.

Anything but Thrilled

So, a lot of little thoughts, with my general obsessive tendency, have been swarming upon me. Weight, human adequacy, meds, sickness, happiness, contentedness, the future, the past, the present. It is rather overwhelming and drains me emotionally and mentally. And it results in a psychic tornado that I cannot control.

It's really weird how large my range of emotions is in a single day.

Does it occur to anyone else that uncertainty is one of the biggest emotional factors in life?

Calypso

I am fucking DONE!

Still Unpredictable

I never know what I am going to do next, how I am going to feel, or what I am going to believe. Yes, there is some constancy, like many of my intellectual beliefs. Personally however, is a whole different ball game. It's all sorts of bonkers. When I get chipper, I am chipper and I make rash decisions to ride my horses bareback through campus. When I get drained, I can hardly get out of bed, let alone ride bareback. And these two phenomena can happen in the span of a few hours and the triggers are minor things. Nice weather and carrying water buckets. A still sick horse, who isn't mine and a nice trot. Something challenging can throw me either way. Trust, god only knows where trust is going to end up. Whether I feel incredibly distant or incredibly desirous of contact, or feel very close to someone. I never know.

Not being able to predict others is one thing; not being able to predict me is very different.

Get Down to Business!

I'm done with this. I've been slacking and god does it show. I'm tired all the time, weighed down by poor eating and self-loathing. This is the deal--veggies and fruits. No more silly empty useless calories, stupid white bread, processed cheese. Miss Jill has influenced me, but more than that--I'm crazy and that doesn't do much for me. But I will achieve perfection and my life will be perfect. Screw self understanding or responding to my body; my body has done nothing my fuck me over--my body needs sleep, not my mind; my body wants food, my mind is drugged by food.

BPD Breakdown

I cannot pretend anymore. I am sick; I won't ever be normal. I just lost it with my animals. Out of nowhere I was overwhelmed by anger. I don't know where the anger came from or what I was angry at. I was just angry. The easy answer was to say that it was the dog and cat and their not getting along. But I honestly thing that was only an excuse.

It was anger from nowhere. It was an overwhelming need to dig into myself. To hate myself. Not one thing about it was rational or responsive. Nope. I wanted to gush blood. I wanted to get into the ER, but I was too scared. I want someone to say "I see." But I won't let me get close enough to appreciate their concern.

Stuck. . . I think

I don't know where I am in terms of mental health. I don't know if I'm getting sicker or healthier or going nowhere. I am a little disconcerted about this stage in my life. I feel somewhat distanced from me. AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.