Songs for boys

In progress….

Where are you now - Ry

Circles - Adam

Dead boy in my room - Bogs 

Delicate - Bird

Chevy? TBD 

Blah blah binge purge

My binging and purging is definitely related to my anxiety. When it peaks, I can’t stop binging. When I start binging, I relentlessly purge. It wasn’t just weed. I’m just fucking mentally ill and eating disordered. 

Lovely. 

The pills help tho. Recently it’s beta blocker in the morning, lyrica couple times a day, benzo at night. I was trying to stick to halves. I’m going to discuss a higher dose when I meet with my NP. Today as soon as it all kicked in I was able to break the cycle. I was able to go outside even. I was able to make myself go to work and finish the work day. I need this to continue to be the case. 

The b and p’s also have nothing to do with where my husband is. It’s all hearsay. My ED doesn’t give a fuck what day of the week it is, who’s where, or what my schedule is. It just pops up and says, “fuck you,” and then I have to pay attention to it all day. It’s my addiction. Fucking disgusting addiction. 

I want a new swimsuit, but that prospect makes me anxious as well. Because idk what size or color or print or cut to go for, and I’m broke as a joke. 

Reasonable eats is the goal tomorrow. 

Breakfast: English muffin and eggs maybe. 

Lunch: pepper and cheese wraps with chicken.

Dinner: HelloFresh 

Total: 1200ish

I need to get myself under control. I hate this shit. 

In other news, I googled Chevy. A year locked up for multiple DUIs. I wish he didn’t hurt so bad. I bet he has no idea how many tears I have shed for him. I wonder if he ever looks me up or thinks of me. He’s the worst unfinished business of my entire life. 

Pills and thoughts

Lots of things have been stressful lately. Many of which I can do absolutely nothing about. So I haven’t been worrying about them. Is it denial? Maybe…

The amount of money I owe is slowly creeping upward, and my income is not. Court didn’t happen well. We need a lawyer. It’s all too much, so I’ve been taking things one day at a time. Moderation and slowly paying my bills late and ignoring some of them altogether. Idk what else to do. Once baby is in his program, I can hustle and catch up. Until then, it’s a little hustle and a lot of empty bank account days. 

My weight is slowly declining. I’m not over analyzing anything - I just have had a low appetite since I started meds, and it’s kinda hard to find something that sounds good to eat, so it’s easy not to. I have been having about two meals a day and letting it be wherever I want. I find often, I don’t finish it. Toward the end of the meal, I don’t even find what I find appetizing appetizing any longer. I’m not complaining, honestly. I think that part of my brain has been broken for so long. Idk what has made it better - maybe just less anxiety… I emotional ear like a motherfucker.  

My med changes are great. It’s not perfect, and I still had a terrible migraine today, but it was better than it usually is. It came on at 1pm, and by 7, it was over. That never happens. Even the cloud that I usually sit in after I have one for about 24 hours is gone right now. Normally it is a 48 hour process, but right now I feel fine and it’s midnight. I’ll take 12 hours over 48, thanks. 

I smoked once since I started all of this, and it was fucking terrible. Not the high, but my eating. I binged so hard and purged so hard as well… it’s like I’m a fucking junkie in those moments. I’ll spend my last dollar on junk food and inhale it and throw it back up. It’s fucking terrible. I won’t be smoking again for a long while.  

I think a life of pooping pills every day is better than smoking. I’m glued together with wellbutrin, propanalol, lyrica, and clonazepam. I don’t miss the weed, because I’m able to calm down. I didn’t realize how bad my anxiety actually was. I haven’t felt paralyzed since my doctors appointment, now that I think about it. And the lyrica makes my body cooperate. I’ve been having some side effects, but I think it might just be anxiety actually.

And I’m giving it til my appointment to make a judgement call. I think things are going well, but I scare myself overthinking everything as per fucking usual. 

It’s really fucking annoying to be like “I have fibromyalgia,” but like, I really do… I guess I never really realized my body was different than others. My husband is trying to get it. I’m trying to navigate it. It’s all very new and hard to mentally organize or understand.  

I hate this body. For so many reasons, I hate it. Why do some people get to be born into a good one? 

It’s not fair. 

But no ever said it would be. Off to find a yoga video to start doing nightly. 

Ran away

What the fuck is Cally doing? She’s in a hotel right now. Paid for by gay bff. After an evening of being treated like crap. After weeks of being treated like crap. Years at this point. 

She took pills and a shower and won’t eat for a while. 

I don’t care anymore. He needs to wake up. I need more. I need a partner and not another child. I need him to get that he can’t treat me however he wants. So I’m making a point. 

Will it backfire? Will it give him a taste of his own medicine? Will it be the end of us? Will it fix something?

I don’t know. I don’t care anymore. I just know I can’t live like this anymore and I need him to realize I have options. I might not have a family, but I have options. There are people right now who I could be with. People who would give me the world. I could take my baby and leave and never come back and I would be happy. 

I don’t feel the same way about my husband anymore. Because he’s killing it. I wish he would stop. I really am trying to hold on. I really am trying to be ok and help him. He’s determined to be miserable. And I can’t do shit about that.  

I can’t live my whole life miserable and trying to make him happy. Trust me it doesn’t work. He’s about to get whatever I feel like giving and not an ounce of effort more. If that’s enough for him, cool, and if not then he can leave. 

I’m done being treated like I’m not good enough. I won’t take it from my parents, husband, anyone. Fuck off, world. Cally doesn’t have any fucks left to give. 

I just realized I don’t even have to rush home tomorrow… I have to work and check out at 12:30 but I don’t have anywhere I’m supposed to be really and I have $29 because of bestie.

Pills now. Nighty night. 

Lately things

Tried to post on social media today. Panicked and deleted it. Couldn’t decide on breakfast for two hours. Couldn’t decide on lunch for two hours. Skipping dinner. Took a handful of various pills instead. 

I am always so fucking anxious. And fibro is kicking my was. 

It’s the 1st, and I haven’t paid rent or about $800 worth of bills for last month. Can’t do shit about it. Can’t pick up my $11 rx, because I have $9 to my name til Monday. And then I’m only getting $400. I’m so fucking tired of being poor. We’re doing worse both working, because dumb shit keeps coming up. I need to really buckle down this month and demand to work more. We discussed a schedule that should work. I just need cooperation. 

I’m so tired all the time. Mentally and physically. I get in my head beating myself up about it, but objectively there is a lot of shit that I have to deal with. Too much. That I can’t do anything about. I just hope it gets better soon. The baby going to school so that I can basically double my income is what I’m holding my breath for. Because right now I can’t pay my $1,500 taxes at all.

I’m kind of terrified to even get hopeful about it this school for him. It seems to be too good to be true. It’s a program he was recruited for, and I worry he won’t get in. Because in my mind, the 40 hours he will be there a week means a taste of freedom for the first time in 4 years. And maybe, just maybe, I can go on a date with my husband and take the occasional secret afternoon off that no one needs to know about and have a little money to shop with. I’m so hopeful for those things I could start crying. 

But in the meantime, the benzos are treating me well. No weed is working well. I feel better lately and am finding a rhythm with taking them.m. I think I’m doing quite well on the majority of days lately, which is an improvement. I might be held together with pharmaceuticals and toddler hugs, but for right now, that’s fine with me. I have noticed that I am feeling a lot more emotional lately, and I think it’s actually a good thing. I’ve been processing a lot. Grieving a lot. I think I was dulling with weed for so long and now that I’m not I’m actually being emotionally productive. 

It feels pretty good. 

I felt so fucking good last night at middle kid’s game. It was like a part of me that’s been missing for years is suddenly back. She’s poorer and fatter and older and more awkward, but she is returning. She feels out of place, but the jealous stares from other moms feels good. Running up and down the stadium looking fit feels good. Having an outfit to wear feels good. Having a cute haircut feels good. Yelling and cheering in the windy weather felt good. Living is getting easier. I hope that once I get my fibro meds I will be in an even better place. 

I just need to figure out how to exercise more. I have things I want to do and use - it’s just a matter of schedule. Who would have thought that eating, sleeping, and exercise would be so fucking hard to accomplish in life…? I remember when these things were so easy. I remember when I could afford fucking $11 for medication. And when I paid rent on time. 

It’s hard lately not to be resentful of my husband, but I feel like I’m finding a good place with it lately. I know he’s doing his best. It’s just that his best is not good enough. But how could you ever tell a person that you love that? I never would. My parents did that to me my whole life. I chose him, and I will make his best work for me. 

Anyway pills and such. Goodnight, lovelies. Whoever reads this nonsense, I hope you're doing well.