Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Anxiety is me.

I skipped class today.

I had an anxiety attack yesterday, could barely function in class this morning, got phone calls to the effect of no clients next week, went home and freaked out at the boyfriend, got super high, binged, and passed out on the couch. I woke up at 9:30pm, which is ususally just when the boyfriend is passing out.

Now he's passed out, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm a mess.

My depression is in full swing. I didn't even e-mail my professor yet, because I don't know what to say about missing the first damn day of class... "Hey, I know I'm trying to be a counselor by taking your class, but I should probably be a client instead." or "I missed class because I'm such a bundle of raw nerves that I couldn't imagine leaving my house without practically crying."

I think I'm actually getting extremely depressed with all this alone time lately. When the boy is awake with me, we talk and laugh and chit chat and all that shit until we both get sleepy. We pick activities and movies together and focus on each other. Now he falls asleep by 10pm on the couch, and I have this sleepless life where I smoke and eat until 3am and have to pick out my own activities, but can't really DO anything, because I'm not single and able to go out or socialize... I'm just alone with thoughts that I can't handle.

The thoughts go:

He's not loyal and he doesn't love me. How could he? I'm a miserable fat cow. How could anyone love me? Even Adam didn't love me once he saw my crazy. How could anyone? It's not their fault. I'm like G. She's pathetic, and I'm only about 50 pounds away from there. If I don't stop being like this, I'll be alone like she is. Why can't I just lose weight? Why can't I just do what I need to? Why do I always think putting it off will be ok? I put off the changes another day and another and another, thinking one more day of eating will make me happy. But it just makes me fat and sad. Eating hurts me. Binging hurts me, but I do not know how to stop... I've had an eating disorder for as long as I can remember, and I just want to shake it. I want to be healthy. I'm starting to get old, and I notice it. I have white hair, and wrinkles forming, and I look tired and it's not as easy for me to get weight off anymore. It's sad that I'm already getting old and my brain and body still haven't figured this out. This eating thing. I'm pathetic. I'm a loser.

I'm a loser. I might be smart, some might think I'm pretty, but I'm a loser.

I don't fit in in the world. I never have, and I don't think I ever will. I just can't handle the world. Maybe it's because my parents kept me so far away from it in life, or maybe that just protected me from having to deal with it when I wasn't older and a little more capable. But whatever the case, I don't fit in here.

And the ONE person who I fully fit in with has SO much of my heart and emotions right now, that I'm horrified that something will happen to take him from me. I'm so scared of losing him lately that there are tears streaming down my face while I write this. I know I have messed around on him, and I think it was because I was trying to convince myself that if we ended, I would be ok. But I would not be. I would not fucking be ok. I need him more than I have ever needed anyone, and that is a hard fact that scares the shit out of me, because I completely can't control that fact. Just seeing this period of opposite schedules and how that makes me so freaked out, I know I would be a mess without him. He accepts me and digs down deep to get me and is so patient and understanding. He cares about me SO much more than I ever thought he would.

Today standing with all those girls in the prac room felt like journalism school all over again. It felt so scary and familiar. Like the lab at CF and the lab at Uni. I felt like I was right back to 10/12 years ago, and it was horrifying. I felt like an outsider. Like I didn't belong. Like I couldn't talk. I was just standing there, wanting to jump into the conversation, but unable to do so. I was quiet and weird. I was standing there, wanting to run and laughing at their jokes like I did in high school. I was unable to get outside of my head. I kept telling myself to jump into the conversation and say something, but I literally had nothing to say. Then when I did open my mouth, I just felt like a moron. The wheels were turning so hard that I could barely pay attention to what they were saying. I know I seemed disinterested or snobby, but the reality is that I am so fucking shy to this day, I don't know how I manage to talk to a single person ever.

My self-esteem is so thin and brittle. The smallest little shock sends me reeling back to my home to wallow is self-hatred. I do things to try to make myself feel better, but they only make me feel worse, because I should be able to DO this. I should be able to function in the world without having a meltdown. I should be able to go on a date and not purge in the bathroom. But I can't. So instead I stay home and sabotage myself. Because if I'm doing it, then at least I have control over it.

I'm unhappy again. And this time it's not because I'm with the wrong person or doing the wrong thing with my life. This time, it's just me I'm unhappy with.

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